Irinjalakuda, Kerala - the town after the celebration.

It's as if the whole place decides to crawl out a day after Christmas with eyes squinting at the sun and lazy limbs failing repeatedly to open shutters. Christmas is over my friends! The mass, the singing, the free supply of treats and excuses to make merry with other friends, families, husbands, wives... The scaffoldings from makeshift stages where pretty young girls danced just last night, they're still there, but the sight of them doesn't give one hope as it used to; only resentment as to the the percieved length of three hundred and sixty four days. It's no wonder that the handmade cribs stay till january - so that not everything has to go away at once.