Gods own country.
Close your eyes. Think about Kerala. Consider all that flashes in your mind.
Coconut trees against calm seas. Water. Ample water. Fishermen – throwing their nets. Greenery. Sharanam Aiyappa. K.J. Yesudas. Marxism. Meen curry. Wills Filter. Elephants that look like they are about to attend a Jayalalita organized wedding. Onam. Amply endowed women who wear pavadai and blouse but terminate ‘dressing up’ abruptly at the point when it is the turn of the saree. Olympics. Football. P.T. Usha. Banana chips. Jack Fruit. Bare chested men beating tightly stretched leather with sticks and blowing furiously into curved, incredibly long and incredibly loud wind pipes. Assortment of writers and reporters. Khadi kurta clad bespectacled JNU students studying political science. Karunakaran. Joseph George and an assortment of your good friends with two first names. All those ammu kutties and Omana Kutties.
And nasal twangs and that incredibly unique accent.
Godes von kendrey. Simbly sewpppperrb. Ariyo?
Now I did not make the following clip. I dont own it and I dont know whose voice this is. I am not even sure if I am allowed to put it up here. But I know the guy is from Kerala. Do you agree? And I know it will make you laugh.
You can take a Mallu out of kerala. You cant take the Kerala out of the Mallu.