Rare feast

When the bus came to its final halt in Koomankavu, the place did not seem unfamiliar to Ravi. He had never been there before, but he had seen himself coming to this forlorn outpost beneath the immense canopy of trees, with its dozen shops and shacks raised on piles; he had seen it all in recurrent premonitions - the benign age of the trees, their riven bark and roots arched above the earth. (O.V.Vijayan, The Legends of Khasak) Somewhere around Chidambaram, I was startled awake as the bus took a sharp turn. It was a hamlet trapped in time; mud huts, hay piles, dung cakes, old trees, e... full info

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