Imagination adds color and mystique to facts and sights. I experienced this unsavory epiphany as I detrained at Kanyakumari rail terminus in the blazing sunlight of noontide. Cape country brings everything to an end especially the land mass and the railroad. The road terminus didn’t look like one as the road went past the end point too though only to take a curved road back. But the land mass and rail failed to do a kindred act as they called themselves off quite abruptly and visibly. Lands end always fascinate a geography enthusiast .Just before ushering into the cape of comerin I had espied the virtual petering out of the 1600 KM long Western Ghats.  It had made a grand sight as it had fired up the imagination of a geo freak.  But the starkness of the railhead site, largely deserted terminal building, general heat induced lethargy of the humans there made all attempts to conjure up an aura of mystique a full blown disfunctionality. Even the cab and hotel touts seemed poor kin of their high-strung upcountry counterparts. As we climbed down to the nearby seafront the little town we had to cross sported Stinking and seedy eatires, cool drinks and cheap sweetmeat vending kiosks et al of a typical Tamil mofusil town. Having a visceral hate for low end eateries I and my family was to turn complete crestfallen in this maze of such interminable establishments. But tenacious asking around at last paid off. A man tipped us off about the aim we desperately sought after and we drove the wolf from our door in the cool interior of Hotel Sangamom as we partook of the fare there wolfishly.

As we emerged out of the cool enclave the sun turned further harsh on our senses. Suddenly we found ourselves part of a winding queue which was to take the boat to the Vivekananda rock memorial. The structure perched itself fantastically on the large rock outcrops some 1KM offshore. A motley crowd peopled the queue and they spoke all diverse national tongues .The bizarre skinned and robbed global citizenry too stood in the queue mouthing strange tongues but English like sounds redeemed the situation minimally though . Being a point of convergence of three   oceans the sea scape generated untrammeled wind activity rendering the cape waters eminently choppy.  The ferry was quite large so the first time sea goers waiting in the queue had little cause to worry. But the enormously undulating waves tossed those large vessels into the air in macabre glee. As it landed back on water surface the surfing seas performed a repeat acrobatics. All this happened in full view of the queue standers on both sides of the channel. Even the bravest maiden voyager felt like giving a scoot. But humans have learned to feign courage and stand their ground in the face of worst fear.  When our turn came to embark we donned the protective gear heaped up on the shore by the post voyage itinerants.

Mid channel we too underwent rock bred trepidation superlatively. Vivekanda’s exact date of penance performance is apocryphal though it took place circa 1892 for sure. Intramural vivekanda in the company of his Guru couples [sculpted in comparative diminution] exuded serenity and calm .But just outside this abode of peace everything turned upside-down. When we ushered ourselves on to the southern side of the monument the winds turned especially powerful. As we took in the sights and the wind broadside with élan there materialized in front of us a white young couple. The girl was in a dire copulative [sorry a euphemistic phrase unaffordable] mood and appeared so badly mount prone that the guy had to but play along. The wind was just orchestrating the show as it tried to push up her short skirt to a virtual wardrobe void. The rock face was extensively painted over and I was told that the paint cover was to act as a protective coating against disintegration causing saltiness of the winds .Some 300 meters away in the sea stood the Thiruvalluvar statue as tall as a typical Manhattan high rise. But it stood on a much lowly and vastly emaciated rock mass. It too was a ferry destination but the boats didn’t ply on our day of visit citing rough sea and treacherous currents. Several people were lost to tsunami some years back and the waves rose to the full height of the towering statue before they lashed the coast. So now the ancient Tamil bard stands towering in his time tested poetic calling so does he remain as a testimony to the goliath configuration of the tsunami waves