hiding fromthe indian summer in a banana leaf tea tavern in pathanamthitta

i got here at noon and immediately regretted it. the heat is like a drunk uncle clinging to your collarbone, and the humidity? imagine being marinated in a cloud. my borrowed fan from the storefront gagged when i turned it on. the guy behind the counter, mohammed, said this heat can melt your worries unless you're a politician, then it just hardens them. so here i am, sweating through my third cup of chai, scribbling notes on how the mango trees in the courtyard are basically crying sap from the stress.

someone told me about a stray cat named karan who teaches stray puppies the art of not caring. i saw him yesterday perched on a pile of scrap metal, tail flicking like he's conducting an orchestra of chaos. the tavern’s AC broke last week, so mohammed installed a bamboo cooler that blasts 28% of the humidity out. it’s a miracle the walls haven’t developed sails and started leaving the premises.

today i stumbled into a fruit market so overcrowded, the vendors had started wrestling over pineapples for sport. the scent of jackfruit hit me like a punch to the tonsils. a local kid kept blowing raspberries at the bananas, claiming one was his future child. another customer swore the ripe onions were plotting to overthrow the tomatoes. i’m not sure if it’s the heat or the fact that i’ve been here since monsoon season, but everything feels sentient here.

if you’re desperate to escape, the closest thing to sanity is the 45-minute drive to kumily. don’t bother with kochi unless you’re allergic to ‘vibes.’ i heard a rumor that the backwaters there are possessed by a particularly resentful eel named raman, who drags away anyone who dares to whistle near the water. for now, though, i’m stuck here with a chemistry textbook, a butterfly net, and a hand-drawn map of the most dangerous neem tree in the village.

pro-tip: wear socks. cotton socks. the floorboards are alive. they’re waiting for you to step on them and turn into a caterpillar. - overheard advice from the post office clerk who keeps rubbing eucalyptus on his shoes like he’s fighting a fungal revolution.

You might also be interested in:

• https://votoris.com/post/the-muddy-museum-thudding-of-new-york
• https://votoris.com/post/a-digital-nomads-muddled-morning-in-lokua-ghana
• https://votoris.com/post/lost-in-the-rhythm-of-manila-a-drummers-accidental-detour
• https://votoris.com/post/dust-static-lost-in-the-echoes-of-palomar-springs
• https://votoris.com/post/midnight-wanderings-in-portland-after-a-rainy-chase