When the 'Kabab mein haddi' became a Kabab.

S, G and I went to Coorg this weekend. And everybody i told this about, before and after the trip, came back with the same retort - "Oh, kabab mein haddi haaan?"

Little wonder, i was completely pissed off. But momentarily, because if they wanted to be left alone, they would have kept quiet about it and not called me at all. So anyway, after momentary pissedness, i ran home, packed my bags and went over to stay at their place so we could leave at 5 in the morning to Bamboo Loft, our home stay in Coorg. (Note be, their apartment has THREE bedrooms, so i slept in one of them while they slept in the other. So stop clicking your tongues. Hmph.)

Our drive to Coorg in G and S's new Alto was pleasant and short, if one can call it that. The estate owner of Bamboo Loft had given us directions for the shortest route from Bangalore to his place, so we ended up saving at least two hours of travel. Despite stopping for breakfast and lunch - each a comfortable 45 minutes - and for a bit of picture-taking, we reached Bamboo Loft by 12:30 in the afternoon.

I can best describe the home stay in one word: breath-taking. The entire structure, the rooms where we were staying, was made of bamboo and was on an elevation. Sky lights dotted the roof which was draped in stacks of hay, a bit of order in its disorder. The beds were super-comfortable, the pillows supersoft and the room basic but clean. Big windows gave us a view of endless coffee plantations doused in mist and resplendent with bird songs and chirping crickets. Needless to say, the setting was completely romantic. So i decided to veto the original plan of me sharing room with G and S, and moved out into one of my own. A wall away from theirs, but still, it wasn't the same room so i was happy.

Most often, when i'm in a new place, i'm terrified of closing my eyes because i think the shadows will come alive and by morning i'll be dead as a stone. This time round, the initial fear gave way to peace. Absolute, smiling peace. I was lulled to sleep by the cicadas and the moonlight streaming in from the sky lights. It's a different thing that i almost froze to death because of the cold, but my sleep otherwise was restful. To illustrate, G woke me up at 6:45 the next morning and i was up without a second though and out in the freezing cold to watch the mist lift from around the home stay.

The morning was white. One couldn't see beyond a 100 metres because the mist had enveloped everything. Surprisingly, though, it wasn't very cold.

Post breakfast, which was a grand affair of Puri palya, honey, butter, jam, bread, scrambled eggs and tea, we set out to Dubare Elephant Camp, cracking bad ones all the way - Dubaare aa gaye Dubare par, Dubaare mat poochna etc. From there, we headed back to the Bamboo Loft, finished lunch and hit the Golden Temple. Once again, i was overwhelmed with the place. Rows of monks in maroon robes chanted prayers while two more blew into gigantic horns, creating a somewhat trance-like setting. We also caught some interesting sights - a little monk-boy showing the middle finger to his companion and running away, another singing a flirty Hindi song while walking past us, and so on and so forth. After an hour or so, we headed back towards Bangalore, taking a longer route this time by default.

I hated leaving Coorg so early. Wanted desperately to spend a few more nights at Bamboo Loft and soak in the silence of the place. Back in the city the feeling just grew stronger, what with the traffic and pollution and shit. If i had a choice, i would make enough money and go stay there for as long as possible.

And yes, i'll make sure i have a man of my own then.