Roberto Romei Rotondo

Up Kodaikanal.

 

up kodaikanal 

The bus trundled along the stony path hugging tight to the side of the mountain on its right with nothing in places but a few inches of dirt to the unguarded precipice on the left below.

A windowless vehicle.

I sat somewhat nervously at first but as the ride progressed I blended with the joyful chatter and laughter and confident ease of the locals on their way home.

A baby cries. The mother passes her child to me, and why not, as I was the closest to her, and proceeds to slip out her teat for her other babe to feed.

Meanwhile the music from the speakers up front is blasting full out, almost as loudly as the blast of the klaxon bleating at every turn.

A man in his thirties is chewing paan, spitting the red juices out the window. A spittle accidentally splashes my shirt. I tap him on the shoulder. A row of blood red teeth flash radiantly into a smile as his head bobs regretfully from side to side. Very sorry, very sorry. Do you have school pen for my child?

I stand to stretch my legs. I glance uneasily to the right.

Not to worry, yells out the driver. We’ve been this way a thousand times before.

Besides, if its our time there’s no preventing the karma. 

There are dozens of little effigies dangling above his dashboard. So which is your god? I ask. Oh depending on my disposition, but my favourite is Kali. A devilish one, he says, giggling. Catch her in the wrong mood and she’ll chop your head clean off. Just like the wife, eh? Ahh, yes yes, absolutely correct, just like the wife. And yourself? Do you have a god? Yes, Jesus. And what does your god say? Oh, basically to treat others good and have a little faith. Ah, I like your god, I think I’ll put him up with the rest soon as I find an icon of him.

I think we need all the gods in the heavens, I tell the driver. It's very misty up ahead. Hard to see, don’t you find? Not to worry. I go by feel. Besides, we’re driving through clouds which means we’re there. Welcome to Kodaikanal.

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