Maalathy, my host for this India trip, tried to make it look easy to pry herself away from her two boys. We were going to be away for ten days. The boys will stay with her mother, and her Dad was coming on this trip with us.
“Why does he have to go? ” I wanted to know. We were already going to hire a cousin who will drive.
“For security, ” she said matter of factly.
We watched the goodbye rituals–powder on the face and pootu on the forehead to keep them safe.
Our first stop was Ooty–the tallest point of India. It took us nine hours to reach there. It was 50 degrees Celsius, very cold for our party.
When morning came, we packed our bags and went to the Rose Garden.
The roses would only be ready in March. But as a gardener, I could take note of the preparations necessary for a good display.
From here we proceeded to the tallest point of India. It reminded me so much of the Mines View Park of Baguio, with all the stalls lining up to the top. The only ones missing were the children who would try to catch the coins that the tourists were throwing.
I felt very much at home here. The houses looked the same, the stalls were the same, the cold of the Baguio that I remember, was the same. It was truly a little bit of Baguio in India for me.
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