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Nowhere else in the world the sun sets as beautiful as in KANYAKUMARI. As it glides down gracefully in the horizon, it casts its golden spell on the bosom of the ocean below, making it rise and fall in gay abondon and then full of ecstasy, assuming various hues and shades, forms and shapes, recedes into the vast lap of the evening, leaving in its trail memories of moments no artist will ever be able to capture.

One wishes to breathe those sublimemoments again and again. Life is what it is because of them and because of similiar moments which nature makes available to man out of its infinite bounty. Of course man cannot live without the other essential like food cloth and shelter. But then if these alone were to be the sine qua non of his existence,  god might not have been created him.

Knowing my weakness a close friend fromkerala gopakumar took me all the way from trivandpuram to kanyakumari during my last visit to his state.  En route I wanted to stop for a while at nagercoil in tamilnadu to see the house in which kamraj used to live and to pay my homage to the memory of that giant among men wgo stood head and shoulders above his compatriots in the matter of practising what he preached- simple living and high thinking. I wanted to see the house and the wooden bench on which kamraj used to sleep. I could see neighter. Nagercoil that day was in the midst of a turmoil. Some political party had organw a big  rally in support of some holly cause somewhere and this had blocked the traffic all round.

” The house in the shambles,” said gopkumar, ” what is there to see in it?” Yes what was there to see in that house? Bar mazar-e ma gariban, neh chirag-e, neh gule; neh par-e parvana sozad, sada-e bulbul-e:I heard my own voice, , thought of the magnificent memorials they have built for the great on the bank of the yamuna in delhi and wrang my hands in despair.

The sun was about to set in KANYAKUMARI. It had finished its foreplay with the ocean and was on the verge of taking its final dip into its mysteries before hiding itself in the darkness of the night. Sitting on the sands, as I watched this awe inspiring spectacle of nature, my view was suddenly cut. A young couple munching someone amd stood between me and the sun.

The boy was wearing a black synthetic suit. Nothing could be more anachronistic.  The gorl was laden with gold. Apparently they were newly married.  And apparently also they belonged to the neo-rich class. Their loud talk suggested this.

” All the way from kapurthala,” said the girl, “you have brought me here to show me what? Just sun and sand?

“How did I know, ” retorted the boy, “that there will be nothing here expect aun and sand? Those tourism fellows in delhi were so much full of praise for this place. Anyhow don’t you worry. Next ywar we will go to vilayat. Tgat is a wonderful place, unlike what you see here”.



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