Three days after we broke our vows of silence we took refuge in paradise: Varkala. After some serious effort, we found a picturesque, solitary, cottage huddled between a coconut grove in the mangrove. We haggled a bit with the rickshaw driver “owner” and he generously agreed to a minimal amount. It was quiet and private and we were the King(s) and Queen of this little jungle Kingdom (snakes included). The Black beach was our front yard and we would begin our day rising with the call of the mosque to meditate at it.
On our daily walk, we would befriend the fishermen who would haul their nets early each morning and haggle over the distribution of fish amongst each other. After meditation and the first swim we would religiously make our way over to Jairam Café. A simple peaceful little cheap restaurant we discovered on our first night at Varkala; and where we found the weird and wonderful gathered. Jairam became pivotal as our creative space, so much so that the staff arranged a set of tables solely for our private use; where we would leave our things, open and scattered, disappearing for hours for a swim and stroll, to return knowing our things had been safely guarded. Such was our trust and friendship.
And with the feeling of the ocean breeze and the open space before us we felt full of creativity: to draw and paint and photograph at leisure all day. Or simply to lie in the hammock and read endlessly. After two weeks of bliss we are finally ready once again for some serious labour of love. We are heading to Mitraniketan’s “Pottery Unit”.
Listen to this man’s beautiful voice as he calls to prayer. We enjoyed his voice several times a day, sitting in our cottage.