My research work was quite at doldrums as I found that the database of Bangalore aquatic flora wasn"t up to the desired mark. Since I am not a full time research scholar I chose a topic in consultation with my research guide, something which involves travelling and literature survey. I wanted it to be pure Botany and what better subject than Taxonomy that could fulfill my desire. My guide suggested me to visit the Malabar Botanical Garden at Kozhikode (Calicut) at Kerala before my Christmas vacations are over. I never had been to Kozhikode and rarely knew about the train route or the bus facility and I had never dreamed of the jam packed crowd. It was a travel with no pre-planning as it was decided on the eleventh hour. I chose a bad time for my travel, just two or three days before the New year commencement. The buses were completely filled and not even a luxurious bus was accessible as they all had been reserved. I tried outside for any private transport that ferried across to Calicut but there rarely existed any such bus. I had no other go but to catch a KSRTC( Kerala transport and not to be mistaken with Karnataka transport). Even this bus was reserved but for a few seats that were vacant and I sat along with another co-passenger with a sight of relief only to find it was short-lived. The dense bearded conductor spoke to me in Malayalam and asked me to make a seat for a girl in her 16s. I tried speaking to him in Tamil, Kannada and English with a raga of Malayalam but to little effect. I made way for that girl with her uncle only to realise that it was the conductor"s chivalry which made me to be the scape-goat. Within my mind I cursed the conductor with the worst curse that I could imagine or my decency would allow. I thought I would manage the entire journey by standing but it was stupid of me to think so. I had under-estimated the distance to be travelled and also the jam-packed bus. I stood for around half an hour and since it was the least luxurious bus I had to bear the brunt of the ups and downs that the bus underwent throughout the journey. Standing the travel, I became the shock-absorber of the bus. My body couldn"t withstand any more jolts and I felt nauseating. I tried my best to control but all my efforts were in vain. When it went beyond my control I covered my mouth and requested some of the passengers towards the window to open the windows for me to vomit. But lack of empathy coupled with lack of sympathy and the cold chilling wind prevented them from offering the window. I had no other go but to look for an alternative, I couldn"t travel towards the door of the bus because I could see some of the regular, sturdy passengers who were fine-tuned to these conditions had completely stretched their body on the floor of the bus with no thought for their co-passengers. I had neither the windows nor the access to the door of the bus, to puke. I had to think fast and I did. I got the expensive monkey cap from my pocket gifted by my dad to beat the winter and I completely puked in it. At the next best opportunity I threw the cap out of the window after making sure no one was behind or in front of the vehicle. This was just the beginning and as the crowd started thinning up, so did my rate of vomitting increase. The more the hair pin curves, the more the twist of my alimentary canal. I probably puked more than 26 times. Adding salt to the injury was the cold, biting, wintery wind and also the disgust that I felt of my uncleanliness. Atlast after 16 hours of miserable travel I reached Kozhikode-half dead and half alive. I had no strength to search for the best lodge, I just walked into a lodge nearest to the bus-stop and somehow struggled to the room with my bag and baggage. The first thing I did was wash my clothes and have a bath. The lodge didn"t provide me any hot water and I was too tired to complain about it. The cold water washed away my uncleanly feeling and I hit the bed. I woke after four hours with my body still feeling the after-effects of the jolts. I caught up brunch in some restaurant and I could feel the coconut oil lingering on my tongue. I had no problem with the oil. I saw many pretty women with long, black and curly hairs vying around. I probably assumed that the secret for their long hairs might be both the internal and external intake of coconut oil.

The streets were filled with many red flags probably the dharnas from the trade unions. Most of the non-veg hotels of Kerala are filled with puttu, parotha and beef apart from chicken and fish. I liked the novelty and enjoyed the food for a day or two but started longing for the masala-dosa, idli and chutneys. Luckily there was a hotel which offered these and my taste buds were appeased.

With very kind and needy help from the co-passengers I was able to aboard a bus to Malabar Botanical Garden. Most of the buses did not have the English placards and everything was in Malayalam. The conductor luckily was quiet a good person and he helped me to get down at the desired destination. I was quite happy to see that the conductors were very honest and they paid back the change unlike Bangalore were I have met most instances of 25p and 50p daylight robbery. I was fully armed with all the photographs of the aquatic plants that I had to get it identified from. Dr. Ansari who is in-charge of the Botanical Garden was very helpful and his research scholars were as good as him. Kerala is a Botanist"s paradise. I observed that many variety of plants surviving and hanging down from the compounds of different houses. Throughout my journey I rarely felt the heat of the sun as I always was under the shades of the trees.

I learnt a lot from the Botanical Garden and I felt deeply indebted for their assistance. The work from this remote Botanical Garden with quite a history behind, is quite huge and tremendous which only a fellow-Botanist could acknowledge.

I strongly recommend fellow Botanists to organise study tour to this place. You will have a feast for intellect especially the aquatic plants apart from the well maintained Botanical Garden.