Tag: Travel diary

The Sunrise Never Came. The Waterfall Made Up for Everything.


This was the final day of our 30-hour trip with Santhanam’s family. The day did not go exactly as planned, but it ended up giving us some of the best moments of the trip.

No Sunrise, But the Kids Got Their Morning Swim

Santhanam’s family and my wife went to the Kanyakumari sunrise point early in the morning. Unfortunately, it rained and there was no sunrise to see.

I stayed at the hotel with the kids. At around 7:30 AM, I took my children and Santhanam’s daughter to the swimming pool. My son enjoyed the pool so much that he continued swimming until he became completely tired.

We then went back to our rooms, took a shower, packed our things and checked out of Hotel Rajeshwari International.

A Wonderful Breakfast and an Unexpected Temple Visit

We stopped at Hotel Chitra and had a wonderful breakfast. We ordered poori, masala dosa, uthappam and coffee.

Inside Vivekananda Kendra, there was also a temple with large statues of Shiva and Hanuman. We visited the temple and walked through an exhibition showing stories from the Ramayana.

We went there only for breakfast, but we also got to spend some peaceful time inside the Kendra before leaving.

A Huge Queue Changed Our Plan

Our original plan was to visit Vivekananda Rock Memorial and the glass bridge. But when we reached there, the queue was huge. We did not want to spend several hours waiting, so we cancelled the plan and started driving towards Thirparappu Waterfalls.

It was around a 90-minute drive from Kanyakumari.

The Children’s First Waterfall Experience

Because of Onam, we got a combined ticket for the waterfalls and boating for just ₹60 per person.

This was the first waterfall experience for both my son and daughter. The water came down with good force, and my wife, the kids and I had a wonderful time standing under it.

Yamuna with Aradhya and Advaith enjoying their first waterfall experience at Thirparappu Waterfalls
The children’s first waterfall experience at Thirparappu.

After all the walking and driving during the trip, the force of the water helped reduce our body pain and body heat. We felt fresh and relaxed when we came out.

We then went boating. The place was surrounded by trees and greenery, and the children enjoyed the boat ride as usual.

Both families enjoying a boat ride surrounded by greenery at Thirparappu
Boating together after our time at the waterfalls.

Cancelling the Vivekananda Rock plan and coming to Thirparappu turned out to be a good decision.

Padmanabhapuram Palace Was Closed

From the waterfalls, we drove for around 40 minutes to Padmanabhapuram Palace.

The palace was closed because of Onam. We spent some time near the entrance and then left. We could not see the palace this time, so that is something we can plan for another visit.

A Quick Visit to My Aunt’s Property

From there, I went to see my aunt’s property in Nagercoil, located next to Canara Bank. I wanted to check its present condition and make arrangements to find a tenant.

After completing the visit, we started our return drive to Madurai.

One Last Stop Before Reaching Home

We stopped at Hotel Haris for dinner. By then, all of us were damn tired, so we had a light dinner.

The hotel had a play area, and we allowed the kids to play for some time. I am still not sure how children find the energy to play when all the adults are already waiting to crash!

After dinner, we continued the journey and finally reached home.

Thirty Hours, Two Families and No Regrets

With this, our 30-hour, two-family trip came to an end.

We missed the sunrise, cancelled the Vivekananda Rock visit because of the crowd and found Padmanabhapuram Palace closed. Still, there were no regrets.

The kids experienced a waterfall for the first time, we enjoyed boating, visited the temple and Ramayana exhibition, ate good food and spent quality time together.

It was a short trip, but it was a truly rejuvenating experience for both the mind and body. We returned home fully tired, but also fully satisfied.

Coffee, Coastline and a ₹5,000 Hotel Deal: Our Kanyakumari Escape


Tuesday, 25 August 2026

Waiting for the Green Signal

The day began quietly at home. I stayed back until around 2 PM so Yamuna could finish her office work without pressure. Once she was nearly done, I went to Delhi World Public School and picked up the children early.

Onam Outfits Saved the Clock

By the time we returned, Yamuna had packed everything and was ready. The children had attended school in their Onam attire, so there was no changing, dressing or last-minute preparation. Our neighbours and close friends, Santhanam and his family, joined us—and by 3 PM, our Kanyakumari escape was underway.

Coffee for Us, Ice Cream for Them

Our first break was at Sri Krishna Pannai Paal. The adults settled for the comforting combination of coffee, chai and hot vada, while the children naturally chose ice cream. Refreshed and recharged, we returned to the car and continued south.

When 250 Kilometres Felt Like 25

I drove the entire distance—nearly 250 kilometres—but it never felt like a long journey. Interesting conversations with Santhanam’s family, mixed with the children’s chatter and excitement, made the kilometres disappear. Sometimes, the right company is better than any playlist.

Santhanam versus the Hotel Tariff

We reached Hotel Rajeshwari International at around 6:30 PM and asked for two deluxe rooms. That was when Santhanam revealed his negotiation talent. The original quote was ₹4,800 per room, but he managed to secure both spacious rooms for a total of ₹5,000!

Peace Beside the Highway

The hotel turned out to be a pleasant surprise—large rooms, a peaceful highway location away from the town’s congestion, and even a swimming pool for the children. The setting was calm and comfortable. The food, however, did not appear to be its strongest attraction.

Returning to a Reliable Dinner Table

Instead of experimenting with the hotel food, we returned to Hotel Chitra Pure Vegetarian Restaurant. It was our second visit, and the restaurant proved dependable once again. We enjoyed a good, satisfying dinner before heading towards the sea.

Where Three Seas Meet

After dinner, we walked around Triveni Sangamam and visited the iconic tip of the Indian mainland. The roaring sea, cool night air and illuminated Thiruvalluvar statue gave the place a completely different character after dark.

Anand Nataraj, Yamuna, Santhanam’s family and the children near the illuminated Thiruvalluvar statue at Kanyakumari
Two families, one memorable evening beside the sea at Kanyakumari.

Messi, Ronaldo and a Little Shopping

The children’s excitement continued through the nearby shops. We bought them IPL, Messi and Ronaldo T-shirts and stopped for a lively photo session. Between the shopping, laughter and photographs, the evening gained the cheerful disorder that only a family trip can create.

Aradhya standing beside the rocky shoreline and powerful sea at Kanyakumari at night
A quiet encounter with the powerful night sea.

A Bench, the Sea and a Mental Reset

The most peaceful part of the evening required no activity at all. We sat on a park bench facing the sea and allowed the sound of the waves to slow everything down.

Santhanam and I had a relaxed conversation. Yamuna and Santhanam’s wife became absorbed in theirs, while the children remained happily occupied. Everyone had their own little space, yet we were enjoying the moment together. It was a genuine mind detox.

The Fastest Check-In Was into Sleep

By the time we returned to the hotel, the driving, walking and excitement had caught up with us. There was no energy left for late-night conversations or elaborate plans for the morning. We reached our rooms, settled in—and everyone simply crashed.

Some journeys are remembered for the destination. This one will be remembered for how effortlessly 250 kilometres passed—in conversation, laughter, food, friendship and a few quiet minutes beside the sea.

The Summer That Stood Still


The Summer That Stood Still

Every year, summer vacations come and go. But once in a while, a summer arrives that feels different—a season you know you’ll remember long after it ends.

For me, this year’s summer vacation began on April 26th. What followed wasn’t just a holiday for the kids; it became nearly two months of uninterrupted family time, laughter, road trips, and moments that money simply cannot buy.

The adventure started with a four-day trip to Munnar, followed immediately by four days in Bengaluru. From there, we spent two weeks in Chennai, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together without deadlines, meetings, business calls, or schedules dictating our lives.

The journey didn’t stop there.

We moved between Madurai and Chennai, attending tuition programs, reconnecting with family, and most importantly, giving the children something increasingly rare in today’s world—time with their cousins. There were sleepovers, endless conversations, shared meals, games, inside jokes, and the kind of bonding that only happens when children spend weeks together instead of a few hurried hours during festivals.

One of the highlights was another trip to Munnar, this time with cousins joining the adventure. Watching the children create memories together was perhaps more enjoyable than the destination itself.

As the school reopening approached, reality slowly began knocking on the door. We attended the first day of school, squeezed in another quick Chennai visit, and then, for the final few days, stayed together once more before my sister’s family prepared to leave India.

Yesterday was the hardest part.

There were long hugs, emotional goodbyes, and that silent understanding that everyone was trying to be brave. The children held on a little longer than usual. We adults did too. By evening, we were on the road back to Madurai, reaching home close to midnight.

And just like that, the summer was over.

Looking back, I realize this wasn’t really about Munnar, Bengaluru, Chennai, or Madurai. It was about something much simpler—being present. Being available. Being together.

As parents, we know these summers are not permanent. Every year, our children grow a little older. Soon, academics, friendships, college plans, and their own lives will naturally take center stage.

Perhaps that’s what made this summer special.

It reminded me that childhood is not measured in years; it is measured in the number of summers we get to spend together before life gently pulls everyone in different directions.

For now, my heart is full of gratitude—for the journeys, the laughter, the cousins, the family, and the memories.

And if God is willing, may there be many more summers like this.

The destinations will fade from memory. The hugs, laughter, and time spent together never will.

Yesterday in Tirunelveli: Courtesy, Care, and Too Much Good Food


Yesterday was one of those days that quietly reminds you why real-life experiences beat all stereotypes.

I travelled to Tirunelveli to meet the Mayor, to personally invite him for an event we are organising. The meeting itself was smooth, respectful, and reassuring. He was warm, courteous, and graciously accepted the invitation to honour the occasion.

But what followed after the meeting stayed with me far more deeply.

The Mayor asked one of his friends to accompany us — not just to guide us around Tirunelveli, but also to Ambasamudram, where we were to meet another friend. What I assumed would be a simple courtesy turned into an unexpected lesson in hospitality.

From the moment we stepped out, we were no longer “guests” — we were looked after.

Lunch was arranged without fuss. Evening snacks appeared almost magically. Conversations flowed easily, without agendas or urgency. At some point, I realised something important had happened.

I had to break my diet — not out of temptation, but out of respect.

And strangely, I felt no guilt.

There is something about the southern districts of Tamil Nadu — a quiet, unspoken culture of care. No loud displays. No forced politeness. Just a natural instinct to ensure that the person with you is comfortable, fed, and at ease.

What struck me most was that no one made a big deal of what they were doing. There were no announcements, no expectations of return favours. Hospitality wasn’t a performance — it was a reflex.

In a world where meetings are rushed, calories are counted, and kindness is often transactional, this felt refreshing. Almost old-fashioned. Almost sacred.

Some places don’t just welcome you.
They take responsibility for you, even if only for a day.

And Tirunelveli, yesterday, did exactly that.