Kozhikode, close to my heart
Biryani, an evening walk around Mananchira, kites over the beach, and a city that feels like a warm hug.
Biryani, an evening walk around Mananchira, kites over the beach, and a city that feels like a warm hug.
Some cities you visit. Some cities stay with you. Kozhikode is the second kind for me.
My wife and I travelled there together, and I still think about that time more than I probably should. It wasn't a big, fancy trip. We didn't tick off a list of sights. We mostly walked, ate, talked to people, and ate some more. And somehow that turned into one of my favourite memories of us.
Let's be honest, half the reason anyone goes to Kozhikode is the food. The delicacies there are just alluring. You walk past a restaurant and the smell alone changes your plans for the evening.
We went to Paragon, because you have to go to Paragon. We went to Rahmath, because everyone told us to, and everyone was right. And then there was Kuttichira biryani, which is a whole different thing. The rice is small-grained and fragrant, the meat falls apart, and every plate tastes like someone's family has been perfecting it for generations. Which, honestly, they probably have.
I've eaten biryani in a lot of places since. It's good. It's just not Kozhikode.
Missing those. A lot. Some nights I seriously consider whether a flight is a reasonable price to pay for one plate.
In the evenings we walked around Mananchira square. Nothing special happens there, and that's exactly the point. People sitting on benches, kids running around, families out for a slow walk after dinner. You just become part of the city for an hour.
And then the beach. The photo at the top was taken there, at sunset. The whole sky went orange, and the old broken pier stood out in the water like a row of dark teeth, gulls sitting on top of the posts. Someone walked slowly along the wet sand and their reflection walked with them. Everyone in the city seems to come out at that hour. Nobody is in a hurry.
What I remember most, though, is the people. They are nice in a way that doesn't feel like politeness. Someone gives you directions and then walks you halfway there. A shopkeeper asks where you're from and suddenly you've been chatting for ten minutes. You leave feeling like you made friends, even if you never learned their names.
Kozhikode is so close to my heart. Part of it is the city. Part of it is the biryani. But mostly, I think, it's that it was ours.
— Desly