South India. From the Bay of Bengal to the Arabian sea.

Chennai, previously called Madras by the British East India Company. They acquired the settlement from the local Nayak rulers in 1639. Legend has it that the name Madras stands for “Mad King Stum” A British insider’s joke about the Nayak king who sold the city for a penny. The truth is more obscure and may have come from the name of a near by fishing village called Madrasapattinam or maybe from the Portuguese. As with many things Indian, it depends on who you ask. Here, listening to our guide decode the city’s colonial evolution via its distinct Indo-Saracenic architecture — a vibrant blend of Indian, Islamic and Gothic styles, it is quite impressive. After visiting the colorful, 1500 year old temple of Lord Shiva, (one of the three Hindu gods: Brahma the creator, Vishnu the preserver and Shiva the destroyer) with ancient sculptures and beautiful painting covering the ceilings and walls, we are still as confused as we were before about Shiva’s many different reincarnations and avatars.

Next stop is the tomb of St. Thomas and Cathedral with its distinct Neo Gothic architecture. It is named after the apostle who came to India in 52 AD to preach the Gospel and spread the teachings of Jesus Christ. St. Thomas, was martyred by four guards who killed him with a spear. Here, in the museum we see a jeweled relic containing the spear point that killed St Thomas along with some of his bones. We are surprised to see a large Catholic population in South India, primarily due to the extensive missionary work undertaken by the Portuguese during the 16th century.

Temples, Churches and Palaces.

By now, something in me unwinds, I allow myself to shed the shock of arriving in a place that is so completely foreign to me. A sense of peace is settling in as I let myself embrace the road and the wonders it entails.

Standing in front of Krishna’s Butterball, a massive 250 ton boulder that has been balanced miraculously on a slope of a hill, in the historical coastal resort of Mamallapuram. It reminds me of how small I am in front of nature. Throughout history, kings and conquerors tried to move this boulder but they failed to budge it from its position - the rock stood immobile. It is not just a marvel of nature and science, it is also a symbol of the playful nature of God Krishna, the god of love, compassion and protection and a reminder of the delicate balance between the mortal and the immortal.

Almost two hundred years of French occupation, starting in 1674 can be seen in the White Town area, also known as the French Quarter in Pondicherry.  Many of the structures are colonial buildings built by the French during their rule, yellow in color and draped with distinctive bougainvillea. I am strolling slowly along the coastline with the sounds of the waves crashing nearby, toward the beach bazaar - a delightful mix of handicrafts and local foods. A day tour takes us to the unique and spiritual tranquility of Auroville. Auroville is an experimental township, a place that is designed to be a universal town where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities. Ashrams, yoga centers, meditation courses and hippie communities living in search of a slow and conscious life are populating the community village. A noble idea - with a golden dome.

Tanjore

"Take your shoes off" I am instructed by the guards before entering the Hindu temple - a sign of respect as feet are considered the lowest part of our body and are associated with the outside world. "Again"? I complain to our guide. "My feet get so dirty it is hard to wash it all off" But rules are rules and I realize I have to submit. It is late afternoon and we have arrived in Thanjavur or Tanjore as it was formerly called. The Unesco heritage site Brihadishvara temple we are about to see, is one of the greatest temples in India and an architectural marvel. Built by Raja Raja for Lord Shiva and completed in 1010CE. The main temple is entirely built of granite. More than 130,000 tons of granite is said to have been used to build it. What is most astounding is that there is not a single granite quarry within a 100 km radius of the temple. So how did they transport it? A herculean task. The topmost block of the temple weighs more than 80 tons. How they placed this amount of weight at the topmost part is another puzzle. Inside the chamber, is a lingam, a twenty ton, single piece of stone symbol of Lord Shiva's divine power. I can feel the devotion, the centuries of prayers whispered into this stone - it is timeless but yet so much still alive. The Temple stands as a testament to ancient engineering prowess with - remarkably - no cement, soil, or binding agents used in its construction, all of this while our Western world was still in dark ages.

One of the most intriguing mysteries surrounding the Brihadeeswara Temple is its apparent lack of shadow. I walk around the massive structure, expecting relief from the sun, but there is none. The temple stands untouched - no shadow creeping along the walls. This optical illusion is attributed to the ingenious design of the temple's structure, where the arrangement of stones prevents the formation of a distinct shadow. Stories suggest that when the temple was completed, King Raja Raja Chola questioned the architect about its stability. In response, the architect Perunthachan proclaimed, "Even its shadow will not fall, Raja!" Adorning the outer walls of the Brihadeeswara Temple are intricate carvings depicting the "81 postures of Bharatanatyam," a classical dance form native to South India.

Chettinad

As luck has it, we stumble upon one of ours most unexpected findings in Tamil Nadu. Driving through sleepy, tranquil villages we stop at Chettinad. There, we climb on a bullock cart going on a tour of the old area - just like in the olden days. In its former glory, Chettinad was a booming community of decadence. A group of successful Vaishya merchants and bankers, (the merchant caste, not Brahmins- the highest Hindu caste) built their palaces and mansions here about one hundred years ago. Wide courtyards and spacious rooms are embellished with marble, teak and furnishings were mostly imported from East Asian countries and Europe. Suddenly, all I knew about the humble charm of rural India is up in smoke. From our bullock cart seat, we pass by street after street filled with dilapidated houses. Many have more than sixty rooms, some as large as one and a half acres. They are party houses on a scale unimaginable in the West. So why were they abandoned?

The golden era of the Chettinad ended during WWII. Their trading took a hit from the British, which led to a decline in wealth. With their economic systems in shambles, most of the Chettiars left. This is one story we get. A different version, which is whispered around by the locals, tells the story of how the daughter of one of the merchants fell in love with a royal, out of her own caste. She ran away with him and they got married. The Vaishya merchants wanted to kill her as is the costume, but couldn't because she married a royal. So out of shame, they all left. True or legend? As with everything in India, it depends on who you ask.

Madurai.

Temples, churches and palaces adorn the streets of Madurai - one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world - I am taken back in time. Its skyline is dominated by the 14 colorful gopurams (gateway towers) of Meenakshi Amman Temple. A multi-tiered, technicolor wonder, heaving with carved mythical figures of Hindu gods. The ancient structures are simply marvelous and speak volumes about the Dravidian architecture. Sadly, this year, some of the gateways are covered for a feat of cleaning that occurs every twelve year cycle and photography is prohibited inside the temple.

Madurai has a inexorable link with Gandhi. It is here that Gandhi saw peasants wearing simple cotton dhoti and decided that he would shed his expensive outfit for a dhoti and a shawl. By doing this, he became a part of the common people for whom he aspired to fight. It is also here, that Harijans, a caste of untouchables were first allowed into Meenakshi temple, marking a historic chapter in the fight for the rights of the untouchables.

Kerala

Not hammer - strokes, but dance of the water, sings the pebbles into perfection. - Rabindranath Tagore. Abraham Verghese : The Covenant of Water.

Finally Kerala. I've been imagining being in this land that is shaped by water ever since I read "The Covenant of Water". This sweeping novel about three generations of a family in Kerala made a big impression on me - hence, I needed to experience it with my own eyes. Kerala, often called "God's own country" is positioned between the Arabian Sea on the west and the Western Ghats on the east. These slopes support tea, coffee, rubber and spice plantations as well as wildlife. It is the hometown to our driver extraordinaire Suresh. A proud Malayalis (Kerala's natives), who is excited to show us how much better Kerala is than anything we've experienced so far. Kerala has the highest literacy in India and is noted for its achievement in education, health and gender equality. Kerala became the first state in India to reserve 50 percent of their seats for woman in local and state government - a big wow! Their cuisine is rich and spicy, it is usually served with Matta rice which is a type of red rice that Suresh, can't wait to have a mouthfull of it. To my relief, the roads are better, with drivers more in the rhythm of law and order - Hallelujah!

Munnar

Munnar, (translates to three rivers) is 1600 meters up high in the clouds. Chilly weather and misty hills - that is why the British chose it for their summer resort during the colonial era. It is surrounded by rolling hills dotted with tea plantations as far as the eye can see. The views from the mountains are grand and incomparably beautiful. A nature lover’s paradise. Cardamom, cinnamon, vanilla, cloves, black pepper, turmeric and nutmeg are grown here. In fact, Munnar is often referred to as the “Cardamom Capital of the World”. My story of Munnar wouldn't be complete without mentioning the Ayurveda healing massage I received here. As soon as I walk in, not knowing what to expect, I am given a piece of white cloth, like a diaper to tie around my privates instead of my underpants. "it is better this way" I am told without further explanation. Within seconds, warm, herb infused buttermilk flows on my head and into my hair. I close my eyes, my ears are plugged with cotton while the therapist slowly massages my head and adds more and more oil and herbs. I feel a heated warmth spreading upon me, slippery oily liquid flows into my brains via the roots of my hair. I give up trying to figure out what's happening - this practice calms my mind. Ayurveda, meaning" science of life" is an ancient tradition that aligns mind, body and spirit. Later, I lay on a treatment table, face down while some warm stones are placed on my spine. I am like a sponge saturated with oil. Oil dripped into pores of my body I didn't even know existed. I feel relaxed and rejuvenated. I take a long shower and I am off for a long healing nap.

Thekkady and Periyar National Park

It is misty in the early morning when we go on a boat in Periyar National Park Tiger Reserve in Thekkady. The fog sits low on the horizon and visibility is almost nil. Periyar National Park has a picturesque one hundred year old lake and is a protected area for tigers and elephants. We are told that there are forty tigers living in the park along with leopards, elephants, wild dogs, deer, primates, sloth bears, gaurs and many birds. We are geared up with binoculars and great anticipation. When the fog finally lifts from the lake, we search with our binoculars for wildlife, we pan left and pan right, we listen to the distant sounds and NOTHING! Our guide desperately searches the shore, he wants to give us something, anything! Finally, he finds a solo turtle, a few birds here and there, and one gaur laying in the grass across the water (much like a water buffalo, but larger). Not much to show for - Darn! All we get are stories. In this area, we are told, the tigers live only ten to eleven years while a normal life span of a tiger is sixteen years. The tribal people figured out that the tigers around here are lazy and not exercising enough. There is plenty of easy prey like deer and gaurs around, so they don’t have to work hard to find food. The tribal people decided to trick the tigers and set up firecrackers to scare the tigers - the tigers run - they get plenty of exercise - everybody is happy. Do the tigers live longer afterwards? I don't have the answer to that question.

There is a tribal community village within the park, they know the forest inside out, so off we go on a jungle trek. How delighted we are to encounter an elephant, a male gaur, close up, langurs (local type of monkeys with long tail), giant Malabar squirrel and so many birds.

Kumarakom

"Look, a Serpent Eagle!" It is down and the first light of sun spills over the lake. We are a small group armed with binoculars surrounding our guide who excitedly points out the many different birds that are flying the skies, sitting on top of the trees or just diving into the water for breakfast. We are in Kumarakom, a cluster of small picturesque islands around Vembanad Lake, a favorite haunt of migratory birds. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and fish mingled with the distant aroma of lilies. Here and there, we hear the excited calls of one of us spotting a unique bird we haven't seen yet and taking pride in being able to identify it. There are egrets that stand statuesque in the shallow water, waiting for the perfect moment to strike the fish. Cormorants that spread their wings to dry under the soft golden light and the rare and magnificent Siberian crane, that has been traveling thousands of mile to come here. it is surreal watching the world wake up in slow motion to a bird's living orchestra.

Alleppey and the house boat

On our way to Alleppey we find ourselves along the road with many people going to a local Hindu festival. As is always the case, we are invited to eat with them and take photos together with them - a phenomenon I still can't understand. Colorful festivals and tradition, reflect the rich culture and spiritual essence of the region. On average, these festivals last seven or even ten days. When do they find the time to work?

As our traditional wooden houseboat gently floats along Kerala's canals and river channels in Alleppey, I feel that time slows down. I am sitting on deck with a glass of tea, watching a moment of perfect stillness cradled by rippling water. Wooden canoes glide past, carrying locals to their routines. Villagers tend to farming or just wash their laundry in the water. This is a luminous water world, teeming with wildlife and dotted with agrarian communities where inhabitants till the earth and fish the waters for a living. As the sun begins to descend, the sky transforms to soft pinks and fiery oranges. The water mirrors the sky - a reflection of gold and crimsons. At night, we anchor and are served a home cooked Kerala meal - one of the best dinners I have had so far. While we try to sleep, we hear the women sing far in the distance, they sing for the harvest festival all night long. it is a slow melody, a bit melancholy, invoking the favor of Lord Shiva and is etched into my soul. Inside, there is a gentle rocking motion of the boat, I embrace the rhythm and I fall into a deep sleep.

kochi

Our Kerala trip won’t be complete without a visit to Kochi, with its long history with the Jews. Kochi, formerly Cochin, is considered the “Queen of the Arabian Sea” as it was one of the first European settlements in India due to its ideal positioning for trading. Kochi port has been at the heart of the Indian spice trade for many centuries and was known to the Greeks and Romans as well as Jews, Syrians, Arabs and Chinese since ancient times. Vasco de Gama, the Portuguese explorer first colonized Kochi in the 16th century before the city was conquered by the Dutch in the 17th century and the British in the 19th century.

We are settled in a beautiful small hotel in what is known as Jew Town. From here, it is only a few steps to the oldest synagogue in India, the Paradesi Synagogue. Entering the large main hall, we find a display of antique objects which add grandeur to the place. Founded in 1568 by Spanish and Dutch Sephardic Jews, it has served as a center for the Jewish community ever since. The light falling through the large open windows onto the beautiful 19th century glass chandeliers shed light on the teak ark that houses the gold and silver decorated Torah scrolls. Standing in front of the ark, I feel my ancient roots with the Jewish people which passed from one generation to another and then on to me. We are a people with a long history.

The origin of the Jews of Cochin is debated, with some believing they came as sailors from King Solomon's ships, while others believe they came after the destruction of the Second Temple. The Hindu king gave permission in perpetuity, or, in the more poetic expression of those days, "as long as the world, sun and moon endure" for Jews to live freely, build synagogues and own property "without conditions attached. Today, there is only one Jew living in this area. It gives me hope to see people from all over the globe, different religions, all coming to admire the synagogue and its history.

Much of the action in Kochi is centered upon Fort Kochi. Here, amidst a patchwork of churches, laid-back cafes, colonial-style buildings and grassy palm-shaded areas are the many vendors, souvenir shops and the tourist hustlers alike.

Please help me decode the Indian head nod. While meeting locals on the road, I feel unsure what they mean by performing a side-to-side head motion, often called the "Indian head wobble" or "head bobble." It is not a jerky or firm motion, but round and continuous, somewhat like a numeral eight lying down. Do they mean a clear yes? Or Is that a kind of no? A maybe? A sign of uncertainty? Annoyance perhaps? It leaves me unsure. The Indian Nod can range from slow and soft to rapid and vigorous, even from front to back, and side to side. Confused? So I just smile and nod back like saying, "I have no idea what you mean but I agree to whatever you say". Maybe, it is altogether a subconscious gesture, and Indians may not even be aware they're doing it.