Saturday, Meeta and I leave for Arraku Valley in Vizag. Will be living among the rolling coffee gardens for some five days.
Till Vizag by train, and a further journey of four hours. Have heard its bloody beautiful. Arraku is on the Waltair Kirondol line, which was built way back in the 1960s to transport iron ore. A cross between an iron heart and a toy train.
Incidentally, the word Arakku reflects the mix of borders and boundaries. It lies on the edge of Andhra, and is touched by the tip of Madhya Pradesh and Orissa. In Oriya, Arakku means ‘red soil’, or so I think!
And of what Meeta tells me, no cellphones and no television. However, the blessed office will give us the laptop of course to ensure that nothing breaks our steady work enthused concentration. (Right?!?!)
Late last night when I was talking to her, we figured this would probably be for the best. I feel beseiged with life sometimes. And it would help to take a backseat. While there is a lot of work, both of us are faff queens, and write pretty fast, so hopefully the work should get done soon. And most of the work involves being on the field, which should be fun.
In all this however, the cellphone not working does irritate me a bit. I need to keep in touch with my pehelwaan. But I am sure things will come around.
I don’t know if all this fits into the larger ploy of needing and wanting to get away from the madding crowd.. or to be closer to the madding self. Hopefully I wouldn’t sit to ponder why the twain have never met.