Homeless at home

You can take a Malayali out of Kerala but you can8217;t take Kerala out of a Malayali: That is a common adage given to most Malayalis around the world, even to Pseudo Malayalis like me.

Going to one8217;s native state is often a cultural confusion

You can take a Malayali out of Kerala but you can8217;t take Kerala out of a Malayali: That is a common adage given to most Malayalis around the world, even to Pseudo Malayalis like me. A Pseudo Malayali is one who has never lived in the state, is not totally connected to its culture and cannot properly pronounce pazham

banana and other such tongue twisters. After spending most of my life in Delhi and Mumbai and visiting Kerala occasionally, I had become a Pseudo Malayali for my home-state8217;s denizens. While in the North, I was just a 8220;Madrasi8221;.

Despite the cultural confusion, I wanted to experience kerala on my own, without my parents tagging me along to relatives8217; homes. I want to explore Kerala like other tourists do, but knew that I will find it easier than them after all I am a Malayali at heart.

The myth was to be shattered soon. While studying in Chennai, I shared my hostel room with five other girls. Three of them8212;Majusha, Sharika and Saumya8212;were Malayalis born and raised in Kerala. Every time I opened my mouth to speak in my mother tongue, they had a good laugh at my expense. I was the official circus clown for the Mylapore Room 8 my hostel family. But the jokes for me stopped when I realised that half of my faculty who were Malayalis did not even realise that I too was one of them unless I told them my name.

When I decided to embark on a journey on my own, my friend, Ayesha Arvind, always ready to try new things, readily joined me. The other five, including another girl from UP, Anindya Upadhyay, warned her of the dire consequences. 8220;Bus drivers will get confused and you will land up at some obscure place, because Dhanya won8217;t be able to pronounce them properly?8221; They laughed while helping me pack.

From Chennai, Ayesha and I reached Palakkad without any major event. But the journey and the confusion had just begun. After a roller-coaster bus ride, we had to reach a place called Cherkepadi, a place in the interior of Palakkad district. But thanks to my amazing language skills, we reached an obscure place a little outside Palakkad. While another bumpy bus ride took us to the right place after two hours, I finally admitted that my Malayalam truly sucked. But no one put it better than the conductor chetta, 8220;Naat na alale bhasha onum sherikya aariiliya le?8221; You are not from town and don8217;t know the language right? he smiled. Later he gave us directions and we reached our destination.

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The rest of bus journey was totally worth it. Not only we got have an adventure, but we also partook of some breathtaking sights. When we reached my grandmother8217;s home, her joy was boundless I was seeing her after four years, without my parents chaperoning, and she was proud I could manage on my own.

As for Ayesha, she was totally spellbound by the countryside. But what really awed her was the simple hospitality and warmth of the people-whether the roadside tea stall-owner who gave us free tea to forget our tiresome journey, or the auto rickshaw-driver who helped us with our luggage without us asking.

Yes, both of us were home.

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