Tuesday, January 10

 
 
YEAR:  2017 | Tags:  | | |
 
 

 
 
 

Trivandrum, 17:30

 
 

The weather seems to have changed dramatically. Humidity and a feeling of impending storms have filled the last few nights. Last week I woke up feeling chilly in the nights and turned the fan down. This week I have woken up sweating and turned the fan up.

We had breakfast in clammy air under a cloudy sky, with mist blocking the view of the sea. We have arrived at the time when we need to empty the fridge, so breakfast contained some interesting items in unusual combinations.

Irma left for Kovalam Junction to buy Uday and his wife a starter kit for Elvis. Naa and I wrestled with Elvis and Polly who have both decided that attacking people’s feet counts as a good game. As soon as the cat emerged from her secret lair all hell broke loose. The animals both alternated between fighting and foot-biting and both got more and more manic. Looking after them became, quite literally, a pain.

At 14:00 Uday popped by to give us some jackfruit curry and make arrangements for us to deliver Elvis tomorrow evening when he finishes work.

An hour later Santosh arrived to take us to Trivandrum to meet Sohan, the film-maker. We meet at the Gandhi Study Circle in a tranquil space at the end of a series of alleys in the middle of the city, close to Pothys. We meet Sohan and a sixty nine year old American whom I will call Greg, who has owned the building for twenty eight years. He spends six months here every year, and six months in Connecticut restoring old buildings.

We will spend a couple of hours talking and listening, with Elvis quietly asleep under the table. We will discuss the possibility of bringing Sohan to Finland to show his movies and give workshops in both film-making and yoga. As we leave I will take a series of photos of the house, the entrance and the alleys.

When we get home we will say goodbye to Santosh, promising to call him when we come next December. We will eat the jackfruit curry that Uday brought for us, and some cakes that Irma and Naa had chosen from The Muffin House, where we stopped on the way out of Trivandrum.

Suddenly the cat will appear and the dog will go wild. Instead of sitting down for a final beer on the terrace we will find ourselves dealing with two manic animals, both intent on causing havoc.

The beer will remain in the fridge unopened. Perhaps it will form part of tomorrow’s breakfast.