Day 3: Vizrama - Relaxation
The alarm rings at the crack of dawn, but my body and mind fight. The comfort of the cozy blanket, the birds chirping, the humming of the air-conditioning keep me in bed. I tell myself: five more minutes and doze off. Suddenly I wake up to the soft knock of housekeeping. It's already past nine and my dosa idli time is running out!

Two new guests arrive at the resort. The setta saree girls welcome them with flowers while the musicians play the flute and tabla. My soul is at peace. 

It's hot and humid today. I stop by a shed selling green coconuts. He cuts the top off and hands it to me with a straw. I finish it in one go. I want to have the soft coconut flesh inside, so I take it back to him. He cuts it in half. I ask for a spoon. He takes it back and cuts a thin slice from the side that I can use to scoop. How ingenious!

The Ayurveda doctor is standing near by. He has an amazing smile. I have a thing for smiles. I keep a secret list of people with great smiles. He is now number 18 on my list. (Abishekh Bacchan is number 5). I tell the doctor I will come soon for my daily dose of Ayurveda after my rendezvous and photo shoot with the butterflies.

I tiptoe my way into the butterfly park. Somewhere a cuckoo is forcefully announcing spring. The butterflies are all made up and ready. But they don't sit still. I am going to get a chase today. One poses. As soon as I am done, he flies off. I am guessing it's a he. Apparently all males in the animal, bird and insect kingdom are prettier than females. Or so I was told. Although I have my reservations. A big bumblebee flies in to get photographed. This time I run away.

The butterfly and bumblebee chase has prepared me well for my Ayurveda treatment. Yesterday it was 'Rasayana Uzhichil'. Today it's 'Kizhi'. Hot, and I mean HOT, herbal pouches are placed on strategic points on the neck, shoulders and back. It magically takes away all the joint pains. I feel as light as the Blue Mormon butterfly I had just photographed.

Famished, I walk into the restaurant by the backwaters. Lunch is a Kerala thali. I opt for chapati instead of rice. The 'Tendli', an okra and yoghurt concoction blows me away! I can't pronounce the names of two other dishes so the setta saree beauties write them down for me. The 'Kootucurry' and 'Mezhukuvarty' are delectable combinations of everyday vegetables like yam, carrots and chickpeas. They are mixed with curry leaves, mustard and coconut which turns them into delights from heaven. To finish off, there's the famous Kerala payasam. Despite being an ardent fan of my mother-in-law's legendary payesh, I take a small spoonful to taste. There's a cooking demo that's held every day in the afternoon. Initially I hadn't been too keen. After this thali lunch, I change my mind.

As I wait in the garden for the cooking demo to start, I am given complimentary Chaya Vallam –masala chai –  made by a woman on a Vallam (country boat) nearby. The vast backwaters in front invite me. I must make plans for my houseboat trip. 

At the cooking demo, I discover the secrets behind the divine taste and colour of the curry. I learn to make mouthwatering Kerala Fish Curry with coconut oil, curry leaves, kokum (Malabar tamarind), Kashmiri chili and rock salt water. Recipe, anyone?

There's a hammock just outside my bungalow that entices me every day. I weigh the chances of climbing on it and tipping over on the other side into the water. It has happened to me once in Pokhara and I was twenty kgs thinner then. I succeed this time. I am three pages into 'The Moor's Last Sigh' before the lapping water, the breezy coconut trees and the chirping birds put me to sleep.

My second awakening with a jolt! A speedboat has stopped in the water just beside me with two guests back from a ride. It's good timing. The evening meditation session is about to start. 
Coconut Lagoon resort is beautiful. There are water bodies all around which means that even if the meditation place is just across from my bungalow, it's a long meandering walk along the canals and water ways. This is a great way to get my daily dose of ten thousand steps.

In the evening, still full from lunch, I skip dinner. Instead I watch a Kerala folk dance performance under the open sky. The dancers try to teach me the name of the dance: 'Thiruvathara Kali'. The name is difficult to pronounce but the fluid movements and incredible South Indian music mesmerizes me. 

Reading, writing, meditation, and coming face to face with my inner self is what 'Vizrama', as they say in Sanskrit, is all about. I am finally getting a dose of that.