Dear Readers,
Welcome to the second week of the #Blogging from A to Z April Challenge 2021. My theme this year is based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."
I've put together a collage of such moments which can be seen as chance occurrences, coincidences, pre-destined or random (depending on who you ask) for this month's challenge.
Thank you.
Arti
*****
The word 'Idiom' (n), according to www.etymonline.com,
comes from Greek idioma meaning "peculiarity, peculiar phraseology". Fowler writes that "A manifestation of the peculiar" is "the closest possible translation of the Greek word,
from idioumai "to appropriate to oneself,"
from idios "personal, private," properly "particular to oneself."
You can find more fascinating facts about the origins of the word here: www.etymonline.com ***
The seagulls must've woken me up. I hadn't put the alarm because I didn't want to disturb the husband. We were on holiday after all.
I was wide awake. The sky was still dark.
I got out of bed, brushed my teeth, washed my face and got dressed in the bathroom.
"I'll see you later." I whispered to him. He groaned in his sleep.
Equipped with my camera, I left the hotel and stepped out into the still sleeping Old Town of Cochin.
A street cleaner was creating cloud dusts with his broom while the security guard at the entrance of the hotel looked on.
Almost as soon as I turned the corner, a fading word on a faded wall caught my eye: Idiom, it said and under it BOOKSELLERS in block letters. What a fabulous name for a book shop, I thought and clicked. I made a mental note to visit the shop.
The husband knows how I behave in bookshops. Once I enter, I don't leave.
When I recall that quiet morning in Cochin, I smile. This was last year. It was our last holiday before Covid-19 descended upon planet Earth. On that sunny and sultry morning, I was congratulating myself for waking up early because I could explore this part of town alone, without any crowds or honking traffic.
What I thought to be precious solitude then (March 2020) started looking like stifling punishment in a matter of weeks after we left. Silence on busy roads is so rare a commodity in India and yet just a few weeks of lockdowns had turned the same silence unworthy of want.
How fickle and transient are the flavours of time. How important than ever before is to pause and take it all in, to stand and stare and pay attention.
Come along with me while I explore the quietude of a busy city on a March morning that dawned on the right side of Covid-19.
Once upon a time, before Covid-19
joggers, walkers, cyclists
could come out all at once
and spill
without masks or restrictions.
I looked up:
Idiom
Will come back to the store
for sure
I made a mental note
and carried on
capturing
moments as hunters do.
Everywhere I looked,
on doorsteps,
on domes of cathedrals,
there were moments
waiting mid-flight,
in plain sight.
Scooters, bikes and cars
began displacing joggers
as I made my way back.
Morning rituals of a city, hotel surrounded me
as I sat on a bench;
sipped water, followed by tea.
I was happy to be with me.
Amber window panes paused the beginnings of the day
distorting them into treasures of fragments
and embalmed them forever.
Later that day, I went back to check out the book store. Adjusting to the darkness inside, I stepped in. Ah! There are no words to describe the feeling when you step inside a book store that has been curated/managed by a book lover. It's a moment so precious, a feeling so blissful that I stood there in the coolness congratulating myself for sacrificing my afternoon nap to be there at that minute.
I had stumbled into an Aladdin's cave of books in Cochin. I couldn't be happier.
Lying on a table, near the exit, was a book which was covered in clear plastic. The plastic was dusty. The artwork on the book had a haunting quality despite the dust.
I asked the gentleman at the till if I could see the book without its cover. He nodded kindly.
We got talking. The afternoon melted away.
I found a few gems that I lose myself in often these days. One day, I'll tell you more about the treasures I discovered in a shop I chanced upon which lives up to its name's ideology. For now, these photos:
The spellbinding cover of 'Creation' published by Tara Books -- the one that caught my eye first.
One of the colour plates created by Badri Narayan in the book 'In worship of Shiva' published by Orient Longman Limited Such finds, in my view, are magic--plain and inexplicable. Leaving you with this poem I wrote inspired by the teleportational powers of a book shop.
What's a Journey?
Does it come entrapped within two bookends
of a beginning and an end
measured in time? distance? space?
or is it just a displacement
achieved
in a step, a moment, a lifetime?
Are all journeys homeward bound?
Or are the homes we seek to reach
dwell hidden in plain sight :
in a book, a look, a touch, a smile?
Perhaps our journey's end is always in sight
but we walk and walk and walk
pretending to be lost
hankering to be found
despite.
*****
Are you a bookshop fiend?
Do you miss browsing in these times of lockdowns and restrictions?
Is your favourite bookshop still alive?
You know I'd love to hear, if you'd like to share.
Wishing you all a restful Sunday.
See you with J on Monday.
Stay safe and well.
