Facts and Fiction, Groningen, International, Netherlands, P U Krishnan, Short Stories, Travel

The Next station is…

Whiter than snow and as smooth as monumental alabaster… Now I know that the poet was not exaggerating things. Here in Europe, we see such dames who walk in beauty like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies or crisscross the roads on he their cycles. Some of them are friendly with “opposite sex” having opposite colors!

So far I have had a glimpse of Europe, a taste of its cultures, its beauty… all based on my visit to a couple of countries. But, on seeing the rural sides of these countries, I do get an impression that it was not for nothing the poets of yore were never tired of writing about those enchanting hills, meadows and brooks and the songs of those birds.

All those high rise buildings and fast life disappear from my mind when it goes back in time to see a Wordsworth or a Keats or a Shelly, sowing the seeds of those immortal lines!

Yeah, The world is too much with us; late and soon
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.

Suddenly, I wake up to the announcement,

“The next station is”

Author: P U Krishnan

First things first. I am one of those retired chaps who are young at heart. I watch cricket matches and jump for joy when Tendulkar scores yet another century. I read newspapers and books too, though I am not crazy about them. I think I have a mind free from hatred and I owe it to the wonders of nature and music. I scribble something now and then and call myself a writer! Though I have settled in Ooty, a lovely hill station in Tamil Nadu—I must emphasize the fact that I was born and brought up in Tellicherry in North Kerala and studied in the good old Government Brennen College. Of and on, my mind goes back to my ancestral house at Tiruvangad in Tellicherry in front of an ancient Sri Ram temple. I am indebted to this wonderful place which inculcated in me a love for cricket and literature. But all said and done, I am an Indian first.

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