The Trojan Horse And The Great Loss

Theatrical Release Poster

Most of you would be familiar with the Greek story about the Trojan horse and I am sure quite a few of you would have seen the movie 'Troy' starring Brad Pitt, Orlando Bloom and Eric Bana. As part of Indifiction Workshop, the challenge this time, was to "Write the story of the Trojan War with a narrative that creates a comic mood" covering more than 80% of the events in less than 3000 words.

The story below is my attempt at the same. One of the toughest genres in fiction writing is definitely humor. Would love to hear your comments and feedback. Do read and let me know how you found it.

What follows is a story with a lot of names that would require you to perform some gymnastic acts with your tongue to get them right. So for now let's ignore my name.

Being a soldier in the Spartan army, my duty usually ended up being on guard outside various royal chambers – those occupied by the guests, princes, princesses, monarchs, their mistresses and so on and so forth. It was not easy to stand in the same position, without any expression on your face, in that horrendous armour and ridiculous suffocating headgear, but it had its own benefits. No one in the royal clan found it necessary to speak in hushed tones when discussing important matters. Even in such instances they would not abstain from displaying their genetic trait of bellowing like an elephant with a gastric problem. How would gossip not spread?

I knew Paris had all the makings of a trouble-maker, the moment he landed in Sparta with his brother Hector from Troy. Who else would offer king Menelaus, a donkey’s brain soup as a gift, no matter how famous it is in Troy? Menelaus was shamelessly gorging on it anyways as if famine had stuck Sparta.

He only came to his senses when he found Helen, his wife missing. It was the day, the Trojan princes departed! No one in Sparta ever fathomed what he had found attractive in her, despite the squint that she had and the snorts that she let out every now and then. When Paris smuggled her out, the question became all the more baffling. “I would say good riddance”, one of my comrades had commented. Menelaus looked terribly comical almost like a raging rhino when angered but none of us dared to even smile. He stormed out into the palace corridors, tripped over a carpet, fell flat on his face and broke his nose. When Agamemnon the king of Mycenae and his brother, saw him with the plaster around his head, he burst out laughing. “I warned you” he giggled “Your poetry is absolutely beyond tolerance. I asked you not to recite those awful lines to her. Who do you think you are, Homer? I knew she would flee if you continued to regurgitate all that non sense to her in the name of romance.”

I am not very sure what instigated Agamemnon (I did warn you about the names) to attack Troy. He did not seem to give much importance to Menelaus and his stolen wife. Someone told me, he wanted uninterrupted supply of donkey’s brain soup that was very expensive in other parts of Greece. Eventually he prepared his army to launch an attack on Troy.

The next day Achilles and his cousin Patroclus landed at Agamemnon’s door to join him in his quest. Apparently Achilles had gone to his mother for advice. As part of an experiment to invent a new beauty potion, she had consumed some drink made out of shellfish which had pushed her quite far away from sobriety. In an attempt to say “Good Day”, she kept repeating “Go Die” and Achilles took it to his heart.

I had heard many rumors about certain strange obsessions that Achilles possessed ranging from tooth picks to swords and daggers. I became quite convinced of the truth in them when the Greek army attacked and desecrated the temple of Apollo. Briseis, a member of the Trojan royal family was breathtakingly beautiful. I really have no idea why of all the things he whisked off her washroom slippers. She in turn seemed to have the same brain impairment. Charging like a grizzly bear, she followed the returning Greek men to retrieve her washroom sandals and ended up being captured. Achilles had started wailing like a child whose lollipop had been snatched, when he heard that they had taken her to Agamemnon. He was quite a sight sitting in his tent in his spiky armour and blowing his nose and sniffling. There was one thing about Briseis that no one in the Greek camp knew and proved really really costly. Her voice that resembled a symphony of a thousand peacocks. When she was presented before Agamemnon, she let out such a piercing cry, the tables and chairs started cracking and the chandeliers started falling. Agamemnon became immediately prepared to entrust her to Achilles. After all, his heel was the only sensitive part in his body, not his ears.

While the Greek camp was trying to save itself from the fury of Briseis’s voice, Paris challenged Menelaus to a duel. The only act of valour he had committed until then was the throwing of the fly that had fallen into his donkey’s brain soup. All of us were baffled what gave him the courage and motivation to fight our raging rhino. Helen? Nah! Not with that sort of squint! Anyways, if love can be blind, it can be squint too. Actually, he only had to do a little bit of research to win in the fight. Menelaus had a major weakness. If one slightly touched him on his left hip, it tickled him so much that he would drop his weapons and roll on the ground laughing. Paris was not aware of this. How intelligent would someone be if he drank only donkey’s brain soup all his life? He was squashed by Menelaus like a mosquito on his thigh. Hector somehow had come to know of these facts and rushed to his brother’s rescue. Menelaus was also pea brained in some aspects. Having such a weakness would anyone wear armour with an opening at the exact spot in the name of fashion? Slaying him became a piece of cake for Hector and that’s what finally happened.

That night as I stood guarding Achilles’s tent I heard sweet nothings from inside. The Greek soldiers had been falling into a coma one by one on hearing Briseis’s cries. In an attempt to save his men, he had pulled her inside and the pair had grown fond of each other. Well if love can be blind and squint, it can be deaf as well I suppose.

At day break, I was trying to stop my drooping eyelids from closing when I saw a battalion leaving towards the walls of Troy. At the lead was someone who looked a little like Achilles. “I wonder who that is.” I told my companion on guard. “Can’t you see that pot belly in front? That’s his cousin Patroclus” he giggled. One of the most distinguishing features of Patroclus was a paunch that resembled the biggest of our Grecian urns. I must say he had done quite a good attempt at the disguise. Unfortunately he should have remembered that he was going to fight Hector one of Troy’s greatest warriors. With his paunch hanging like an oversized necklace in front of his body, running was totally out of question for Patroclus if required. It did not come as a surprise to me when I heard that he had met his end at Hector’s hands. I was also told that poor Hector had lost two of his swords while trying to insert them in Patroclus’s stomach. They had become bent and useless. Finally he had managed to slit the latter’s throat.

On seeing Patrochlus’s corpse Achilles was reacting like a mad wild wart hog. He had entrusted Briseis’s washroom slippers with him, and now that he was no more, there was no way for him to figure out where it was hidden.

“Do you have any idea how much those slippers meant to me?” Achilles thundered at Hector outside the Trojan fort. “Nothing fit my feet so perfectly ever before” he growled and kicked his leg in the air bringing his feet close to Hector’s face. While the spectators gasped in absolute disbelief and horror, Hector collapsed like a landslide and fell on the ground, dead. In order to safeguard his own life, Achilles had never washed his feet ever since his mother dipped him as an infant in the river Styx. The obnoxious odours proved fatal to poor Hector who was totally unprepared and defenseless in front of it. To avoid embarrassment, Achilles screamed out loud and diverted attention by tying Hector to his chariot and dragging him along.

Priam the Trojan king came that night to get back Hector’s body from the Greek camp. Achilles grabbed the opportunity to send Briseis away as well. His ears had won the battle with his heart. They were tired of bleeding everyday listening to the earth shattering outputs from her vocal chords.

After all this, many in the Greek camp felt it was best to just return to Sparta. But Agamemnon was adamant about the donkey’s brain soup. All the generals started racking their brains for ideas to defeat Troy. That’s when Odysseus came up with the idea of the Trojan horse.

Where do these men get all these ideas from, I don’t know. The plan was to make a huge horse statue and all of us were to hide inside it. It was poor soldiers down the order like me executing such ingenious plans. By the time we ended up finishing that horse we were all exhausted. Like all customers the world has ever known, Odysseus and his peers kept changing the demand and the design every few hours. Finally when they grew tired of redesigning we ended up bringing the horse to a shape. It did look like a cross between a bison and a giraffe but we nevertheless called it a horse.

We all somehow managed to get inside the horse and seal it from inside. A general in the close circles of Odysseus banged his head on an iron rod while climbing in. The blow ended up upsetting his mental wiring. Throughout our stay inside the horse, he kept singing “Horsey, horsey, Trojan horsey…You look like a buffalo but you are a Horsey”. It was pitch dark and stifling hot inside and there was no option of silencing him either. “Briseis was heaven compared to this” many of them murmured. Some started sobbing uncontrollably unable to tolerate the ranting. Some found it musical and joined to sing along as well. It was pandemonium.

As planned, the Trojans dragged the horse within the walls of Troy. In the wee hours of the morning we opened the secret door and stepped out. After crouching for a long time inside that ludicrous horse most of us had sprained backs and sore legs. The incessant chorus of ‘Horsey Horsey’ had also driven some of my comrades to their wits end. The Trojans on the other hand were scattered in a myriad of postures around us in a totally inebriated state. Imagine what would ensue if a battle happens between a bunch of totally drunk soldiers and a bunch of partially insane ones. I had no more energy left in me and did what I considered best. I stealthily managed to sneak into one of the royal chambers and hid myself in a huge chest.

The earth was relieved of quite a few souls that night. Glaucus, Priam and Agamemnon to name a few. While I was waiting inside the chest I heard some noises outside. When there is a choice between saving one’s life and curiosity the latter always takes precedence. I lifted the chest lid inconspicuously and peaked out. Andromache, Hector’s wife was standing in front of a huge mirror her arms spread out flanked by Helen, Paris and Briseis.

“This is where the secret passage his. Hector had shown it to me. We should be able to get away safely.” The others nodded. “Hector Hector Abracadabra” she yelled. Nothing happened. “Wrong Password!” she muttered under her breath. “Hector Open Sesame” she tried again. No reaction again. “Let me try” Paris offered. He took a deep breath and screamed “Donkey Brain Soup”. The mirror did not budge. They all turned and looked at Briseis who nonchalantly responded “Alright” and stood before the mirror. I knew what was about to come and pressed my hands close to my ears with as much force as I could muster. She let out her quintessential scream and the mirror burst open revealing a passage behind.

Andromache went in first followed by Helen and Briseis. “Wow! Look what we have here” a voice was heard. Achilles came charging in brandishing a menacing sword. Paris stood in front of him, took aim with his bow and arrow and fired. The arrow managed to travel two feet. Huffing and puffing like a bull, he fired another ten arrows while Achilles stood with his arms folded and grinning. Not one managed to brush even a hair on his body. That’s when Paris’s eyes grew wide and his face developed an unprecedented expression. He had spotted him! His arch enemy! A fly that buzzed around and landed on Achilles’s heel! Ever since one had fallen into his donkey’s brain soup he had developed a blood thirty vengeance against their entire clan. Before Achilles realized what was occurring he snatched a fly swatter nearby and brought it down with a vehement force. Achilles let out a cry like a yelping dog and fell flat on his face. The Greek soldiers found Achilles the next day with a single fly swatter on his heel.

The saddest part of the story is all the men and women who knew the secret recipe of the donkey’s brain soup perished in the war and the delicacy was lost forever to the world.

About Indifiction Workshop: Indifiction Workshop is a story writing workshop for bloggers interested in fiction. This was initiated by 'The Fool' who blogs athttp://luciferhouseinc.blogspot.in and C.Suresh who blogs at http://jambudweepam.blogspot.in
Link to the exercise : http://indifictionworkshop.blogspot.in/2013/05/exercise-for-edition-7.html
Plot By: Jointly by judges of edition 7 - The Fool who blogs at http://www.luciferhouseinc.blogspot.sg/, Nabanita Dhar who blogs at http://nabanita-blacknwhite.blogspot.in/ and Mixi who blogs at http://fisheyes-meanie.blogspot.in/
Link to this post on Indifiction Workshop: http://indifictionworkshop.blogspot.in/2013/05/the-trojan-horse-and-great-loss.html

A dialogue that was touching

Recently I saw the movie 'Dolphin Tale' on TV. Its the moving tale of a little boy who develops a bond with an injured dolphin. There is a question about the latter's survival as doctors have had to amputate its tail after an accident. The boy along with a few others attempts to save his friend by fixing a prosthetic tail. 

Its a poignant tale. One specific scene stuck to my mind.

There is one character in the movie , a champion swimmer Kyle who loses his leg in a military explosion. In a particular scene, the scientist who designs prosthetic devices, Dr Cameron McCarthy(Morgan Freeman) has a dialogue with Kyle to pep him up and bring him out of his feeling of doom.

Kyle says something like 'All along my life I have worked for only one thing' (meaning to say that its lost now after his accident).

Freeman nonchalantly responds 'The good thing is you have a million other things to choose from'. 

That dialogue was like 'Wow'. A very simple statement but yet it carries so much meaning, depth and above all 'Hope'.

We cannot always change what happens to us in life. How we react to it and what perspective we take is something we can choose. Its not always easy to stay positive. Life can be cruel at times too. One's spirit can go a long way in turning things over and finding new meanings. As he rightly said, when you lose one thing there are a million other things to choose from.

The Wind, The Chimes and The Beast

Indifiction Workshop is a story writing workshop for bloggers interested in fiction. This was initiated by 'The Fool' who blogs athttp://luciferhouseinc.blogspot.in and C.Suresh who blogs at http://jambudweepam.blogspot.in

The 6th edition of this exercise revolved around retelling of the fairy tale 'Beauty and the Beast' in a contemporary setting.  The winners of the previous edition Medha Kapoor, Prasanna Rao and Janaki Nagaraj have come up with the plot for this round which can be found at http://indifictionworkshop.blogspot.com.au/2013/03/exercise-for-edition-6.html.

My version of the plot:

Story Title: The Wind, The Chimes and The Beast

Story:

Boochandi: 

The sun should have disappeared by now at the horizon behind the vast expanse of the sea. I cannot see it from where I am lying but I catch the azure hue of the evening sky from the corner of my half closed eyes. I can hear the sound of the waves hitting the shore a few yards away from my seaside mansion. The palpitations in my body seem to be rocking me with a tremendous force. I feel sticky with sweat and something is trickling down my left ear, blood perhaps? A strong gust of wind blows and gets the wind chimes swinging. My wind chimes! They are hanging on my balcony right above me. Despite the shooting pain I feel near my heart, I let myself immerse in their musical noise. Then I hear that! Like it’s almost real! Laughter! Her laughter that used to dance with them every time I shared a joke with her!

The searing pain emerges as muffled growls from my mouth. I have sent the servants away and not a soul can hear me. I can feel my lips forming her name – Karishma. Again! And Again! My eyes drift into darkness and images of my past and that specific day keep flashing rapidly. The day I became what the locals call Boochandi, the beast!

Please continue reading at http://indifictionworkshop.blogspot.com.au/2013/04/the-wind-chimes-and-beast.html

Would love to hear your comments. You could leave them here or at the link above.

The Woman on platform 10

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 38; the thirty-eighth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "The Woman on Platform Number 10"

The sun had just risen from its overnight slumber and was sneaking his rays everywhere with a rejuvenated vigor.  "Hot News!East Pakistan becomes Bangladesh" a newspaper boy screamed at the hurrying passengers. 'Kaapi Kaapi Kaapi',  the coffee seller bellowed. The aroma and vapors arising from his can blended with the morning air drawing the crowd like ants to a sugar hill. Porters in bright red attire scurried their way through oncoming loads and people, eager to start a new day.
The Trichy express was expected only in another two hours on platform no 10. Due to the same and the fact that it was at the fag end of the railway station , it was relatively less bustling compared to the other sections of the railway station.
A few people were curled up on the platform on stretched out newspapers or blankets, some still asleep, some awake and aware of the surrounding activities yet reluctant to open their eyes. Hardly discernible among the stretched out men and bundles was an infant, seven months old. He was cradled between his parents, his mother's guarding hands resting around his diminutive physique. A year of trying their luck in the city had proven futile. They were now headed back to their native village. The child slightly moved his hand, whimpered and then broke into loud wails. Like a switch turned on, his mother rose with a jerk. Adjusting the folds of her sari, she gathered him in her arms, drew him to her bosom and gently brushed his soft hair with her slender fingers. His sobs now disappeared in the feeble sound of his suckling. A few minutes later, his hunger satisfied, he started staring at the lights above and giggling. When he broke into a wail again, she knew what was wrong. She gently removed the white cloth tied around his waist, now dripping wet. After wiping him with a damp cloth, she wrapped another cloth around his waist and made a neat knot. She woke up her sleeping husband, handed him the playing child and went to a tap nearby. After washing the cloth well, she spread it on her iron trunk suitcase to dry. 'Chella Kutti'(darling little one) she spoke in baby tones when her son looked at her.

Around four decades passed.

The sun rose once again repeating his act of thousands of years , yet with the same rejuvenated spirit. Two porters hurried along, one of them engaged in a serious discussion with someone on his cellphone. The snack stall at the corner of the platform had vada, samosa, burgers and pizza slices arranged neatly next to one another.
The child now in his forties, moved through the platform, slowly. The frail hand of a woman was hooked in his, that of his mother. Her skin was pale and she was dressed in a light blue robe, something that resembled a nighty. He made her sit on a bench and sat next to her. Her eyes were looking at the sights around her but without any life. She did not seem to be cognizant of where she was or, for that matter,of the fact that the man who brought her there was her son. She kept tilting her head from one side to another. He bought a bun from the stall and put it in her hands. She quickly unwrapped it and started gnawing at it. He released her hand from his own , started walking ; first slowly and then rapidly and made his exit without looking back even once. The woman finished the bun soon. She was not aware that the person who had come with her was now gone. Her bladder became full and started leaking.  The urine made his way down her legs and wet her clothing. She was unperturbed by it or rather unaware of it. Oblivious of her condition the woman on platform 10 continued to stare at the unknown.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: C.Suresh, Participation Count: 7

Soul Stirred

Yesterday evening I decided to take up a chore I had been procrastinating for quite some time. Its an apparently easy one but does require a lot of ones energy. Ironing clothes! Despite possessing a good quality steam iron from Philips and a really convenient ironing board its still hardwork.

I fondly remembered the man in a lungi and a colored vest standing in the corner of every street back home in Chennai with his hand-pulled cart and iron box filled with hot coal rendering his services to all the residents at such an affordable price! Ironing just meant gathering the washed clothes in a bundle and handing it over to him.

Yeah, things are different outside.Here I have not seen any ironing services so far and laundry can cost you a fortune. Best Solution: DO IT YOURSELF!

I have read theories about work being easier when its accompanied by music and yes, that's so very true. I have seen videos of women in tea plantations rendering some folk songs with gusto and the fishermen in some parts of the country singing some lovely tunes to the beat of their oars. Oh yes, these videos are from movies and I really don't know how far this is true.

Anyways I switched on FM Radio and it was the evening special compilation of Malayalam songs.

My mother tongue is Tamizh but the whole of my childhood i.e till I reached Std VIII was spent in God's Own Country. Hence I can read, write and speak Malayalam (There I go, bragging about it! Simply cant control myself on that front!). I am quite familiar with the movies and songs that were released then. But I would get a negative score if you test me on the more recent releases. I have kind of lost touch except for the occasional movie I get to catch on TV.

Coming back to the scenario, as I was ironing, a particular song was played. There are songs that you listened to as a child deeply implanted in some part of your memory. When you listen to it again, you realize you know the song but cannot recollect when and how. This was one such song. "Kanneer Poovinte " from the movie Kireedam.

There are songs which as you listen would enter your ears and then make their way quickly to the chasms of your heart, and stir your soul - gently , lightly yet beautifully. Once the song gets over, you start feeling bad that it came to an end. Yet, it leaves you with a nice feeling. This had that effect on me.

I am not sure how many of us actually have time to sit and listen to songs that touch our souls . We are caught in this world of work, chores, errands, run, run, run not to mention the dance and item numbers that seem to blare at us from every direction.

So, whoever managed to read all that I have blabbered above till this point - Go ahead. Take out your ipod, mobile phone, laptop or whatever source you have. Tune in to a song you really love and lose yourself in it. Now! Gift yourself five minutes of peaceful music. Do it immediately and rejoice. What is life after all without simple pleasures? :)

Para Sailing Experience and Langkawi - CableCar/Sky Bridge

When I visited Penang way back in 2007 my three month old pregnancy accompanied me. Para sailing was totally out of question. During our Langkawi trip, when I came across the same in Pantai Cenang beach it was kind of irresistible. There are things in life which you should try whenever an opportunity presents itself. After all , no clock - historical, biological or plainly logical is going backwards right?

Para Sailing

It costed us RM100 per person. There were more expensive options in other parts of Langkawi(nearly 50 to 100 RM more). I guess the slight difference lies in the amount of professionalism but we decided to opt for the cheaper one.

My husband and I decided to go together. They strapped a parachute to our shoulders and this in turn was connected by a rope to a boat in the sea.

The man instructed my husband "When its about to end, I will blow the whistle. Then you tug at this rope with both your hands and pull it towards your chest. Remember both hands!" Almost simultaneously he started yelling "Run, Run!" The boat was speeding away dragging us and we ran with as less clumsiness as we could muster. Our feet just touched the water when we felt ourselves being lifted and then we were in the sky clinging on to the parachute. It was amazing! There was a nice breeze, it was quite calm and we seemed to be gently floating. Oh Yeah! The view was breathtaking but we had decided to risk only our lives and not our material possessions on earth like iPhone, iPad or the digital camera. Hence no pictures, just lovely memories of that view.

After around seven to eight minutes , the boat completed a huge circle and started approaching the place on the beach where we had started.

By now, my husband and I were deeply engrossed in some conversation, I cant really recollect the subject now. A whistle distracted me and I slowly asked 'Are they whistling at us?'

The men on the shore were maddeningly waving their hands and whistling at us - Basically signalling us to pull the rope as instructed.

Now we forgot the 'Both hands' part and my husband proceeded to pull it with one hand. There was no noticeable difference in our stand! Then I remembered 'Hey both hands'.

This whole act is to maneuver the parachute to move it towards the land so that when we descend we would end up on the shore and not in the water. On using both hands we moved towards the shore and by now we were only around 10 to 15 feet above the ground. A man was seated at the beach and thanks to his stars that carefully guarded him my feet just managed to avoid giving him a solid kick on the chin.

When we reached the ground it was one of the best sights of the day for those at the beach. I toppled and fell, my husband toppled and fell over me and the parachute fell on us. Almost immediately the men came and helped us out of the tangle!

It totally lasted only around ten to fifteen minutes, but was an experience that I would cherish for life! As I said, don't have any images, just one of the beach.

Langkawi Cable Car & Skybridge

One of the major attractions of Langkawi is the cable car ride , a very steep one that takes visitors to a Sky Bridge atop the Mount Matchinang.

When we went the sky bridge was closed for renovation but we did go up the viewing decks. Beautiful views from there and a bad choice for people scared of heights.

Dataran Lang (Eagle Square)

The Eagle Square is a landmark in Langkawi in the city area next to the ferry terminal. A huge statue of an eagle stands overlooking the ocean. Nice place to take some lovely photos and a good view in front.

We went when it was very hot just before taking the ferry to Penang and hence did not linger too long but it one goes in the evening or so , it would be pleasant and more enjoyable.

Langkawi - Resort and Mangrove Tour

When we were residing at Kuala Lumpur, we never got a chance to explore Langkawi.Now my in laws have come here and we wanted to go on a family vacation. After some brain storming we finalized Langkawi and Penang.

IN SE Asia, Indians get VISA on Arrival in Thailand and Indonesia. But for Malaysia you need to get a social visit pass before arriving, Processing typically takes a week.

Langkawi is a group of nearly 99 islands and is well connected by flights(quite a few low cost carriers) to many parts of the world.

The Resort:

The best part of our stay was the Berjaya resort where we had booked a family chalet. Nestled amongst nearly 70 acres of thick vegetation bordering the ocean, it houses a variety of flora and fauna. The chalets are  made of wood and you need to utilize the 24X7 shuttle service to get from one part of the resort to another.

The board on our room door read 'Please lock the balcony doors before leaving to prevent monkeys from coming inside'. In addition to the room service menu, the hotel had provided each room with a booklet on the varieties of animals present in that forest and what one needs to do in case we encountered a monkey or a python.

During our stay we did spot a couple of hornbills , a few monkeys . One morning we saw an animal clinging to the trunk of the tree outside our room that looked a little like a squirrel and a little like a mongoose and at one angle like an injured bird. We even thought we were imagining things. When we returned in the evening it was still there, but the next morning it was gone. The hotel brochure showed us that it was the flying lemur.

For images of the resort take a look at the hotel website here.

Mangrove Tour:

The day we landed we hired a local travel agency to take us on a Mangrove tour, a popular activity there. We were taken at first to a boat jetty by road and then in a speed boat from there.

The boatman skillfully maneuvered his machine as it waddled through beautiful mangrove forests. (Wikipedia:Mangroves are various types of trees up to medium height and shrubs that grow in saline coastal sediment habitats in the tropics and subtropics )

After stopping at a local fish farm , the boat proceeded to the next destination - Eagle feeding. 

The boatman threw some pieces of meat in some machine which scattered it in the water and the kings of the skies came charging down in flocks scooping them up with amazing grace and grandeur. In fact Langkawi gets its name from these winged wonders and translates to reddish brown eagle.

The boat went in through some caves and crevices and then stopped at a place called Gua Kelawar(Bats Cave).

Bats Cave:

One needs to pay an entrance fee(around RM4) to go in. At the counter they also rent flash lights as its pitch dark inside the cave. We walked along the path carefully and when we directed the flash light above us, the ceiling was full of bats! EIKES!! I wanted to scream out loud and flee but there were boards asking us to maintain silence.In some time we got used to them and they did not seem all that repulsive.We also moved away from the space directly under them. Can you spot them in the pic below?

The cave also houses some very beautiful stalactites and stalagmites. In some countries they would give each of them a specific name based on the shape and have a guided tour but here they left all of that to our own creativity. I felt the below one looked like a tiger. Or maybe a snake?

The area around the Bat Cave was teeming with monkeys. One has to be be careful around them as they can snatch your belongings especially if it contains food.  One succeeded in giving me a good scare by making monkey faces at me. How monkey of him!

From there the boat set off again and merged into the Andaman ocean from the swamp areas. Then it was half an hour of super fast boat ride. In the cool evening, with the sea breeze madly blowing our hair, it was a heavenly experience.

The mangrove trip lasts around 4 hours in all including the road journey and costs around RM300 per boat.

More of Langkawi and Penang in further posts.....