M is for Mudras in Modhera #AtoZChallenge

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the third 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'm exploring the 'Enemies of Ichigo Ichie' this week. Yesterday, it was 'projections'. Today's focus is on 'analysis' and 'impatience.'

Let's step into a day in January of 2017 in Gujarat for today's post.

Thank you.

Arti

*****

                             "There is a common saying that goes, 'If you want to be happy, don't analyse everything.' 

The joy of the moment can't be defined, dissected, understood; it can only be lived."

"Ichigo Ichie demands that we give ourselves over to what we experience without any kind of expectation."

Quotes borrowed from The Book of Ichigo Ichie                

January, 2017.

By the time our group of six had paid for the entrance ticket at the Sun Temple in Modhera (an 11th century Chaulakya Dynasty temple), the mid-day sun was high in the sky. It was January but the bright heat was threatening to dampen our exploration. 

As is usual for me, after deciding on a time when we'd head back, I broke away from the group to explore the temple with my camera. 

Something caught my eye:

red. green and graceful.

From across the pond, with limited zoom,

a scene was born.

They didn't look like casual tourists.

They must be dancers, I thought.

I'd seen banners and posters at the entrance announcing the dance festival.

First two, then six and then seven.

I spotted others clicking them.

My heart skipped a beat.

Stumbling into a dream,

I clicked

dancers breathing life

into stones and relics.

They took their time to adjust, 

change, agree, disagree and finally settle to strike their dancers' pose.

I was lost 

in their sequence, of course.

What synchronicity!

such luck...

to witness ancient carvings come unstuck

from pages of history 

to float ethereally

like an open mystery.

Every moment I absorbed patiently,

mudra* magic unravelled right in front of me.

'Kshanabhangur'

lost in a breath, in a split second

the bubble burst as soon as I heard

the outside world.

I hope you enjoyed these magical moments in Modhera as much as I did back when travelling was easy.

Patience pays and analysis doesn't. Had I rushed ahead to tick all the must-see boxes of the Sun temple, or asked around to find out what was going on, why those people were allowed inside the 'out of bounds' area, I would've missed it all.

We ended up buying tickets for the dance festival. And we came back later that night with great expectations only to be bitterly disappointed. 

In my opinion, the artificial and garish lights cast an ugly glow on this ancient temple and the gazillions of speeches and garlands to thank all the 'important' people to kick start the festival made us very, very impatient for the dancers to come on stage. 

But when they did, the loud speakers washed away their delicate movements. It was such a cacophony of sound and light that it felt more like a mockery of our ancient culture than a celebration. I may sound harsh but sometimes, actually most times, less is better when it comes to showcasing that which is already so beautiful--classical dances, poetry, architecture. We should be preserving it, not distorting it with 'newness'.

The dancers I clicked would perform Odissi dance which  is considered to be the oldest (traced back to 2nd century BC) and the most graceful of all Indian classical dance forms, at the festival. 

Their mudras and poses from the afternoon would outperform their evening presentations in my view. 

According to Deepam Odissi Academy Muscat's website, "A Mudra* is a symbolic hand gesture used in Hindu and Buddhist iconography, performing arts, and spiritual practice, including yoga, dance, drama and tantra.

There are a total of 28 mudras in the Abhinaya Darpan or the The Mirror of Gesture."

I'm sharing this translation of a prayer that appears in The Mirror of Gestures and according to this site and others I came across while researching, it is taught to Indian classical dancers.

Translation

Where the hands are, the eyes follow

Where the eyes are, the mind follows

Where the mind goes, there is expression

Where this is expression, mood is evoked

Doesn't the prayer sound  like Ichigo Ichie to you? It's all about paying attention.

Leaving you with a short Odissi dance piece performed in Venice. It's beautiful. Enjoy.

Coincidentally, I came across a blog post on 'G' day which explores the famous poet, Jayadeva's Gita Govindam which is an integral part of Odissi dance and music. You can read more here: Gita Govindam - the ultimate romance

This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z  powered by theblogchatter.com 

K is for Khamir #AtoZChallenge

What's the first thing you do when you start planning your holiday?

The first thing after you've decided your destination.

We are an airline family. No, we don't own an aircraft (sadly). The husband works for one which means that we are blessed with discounted air travel as long as there are seats available on the plane. There lies the catch 22 of every airline family. The most popular destinations, therefore, are almost always out of reach on staff discounted tickets.

But, this quirk has worked out quite favorably for us as we end up travelling to 'off the beaten path' kinda places and love it.

One has to be ready to fly out at half a day's notice (as long as the boss okays your leave) and pack efficiently for hot and cold places at once. A couple of years ago, we were all set to spend a weekend in February in cool Kathmandu but the flight filled up. Luckily, we found out before we left for the airport. The only other option was a flight to Kerala, a few hours later. Out came the woolly jumpers and in went the bathing suits. We've done this sort of last minute travelling long enough for it to feel normal now.

The first thing I do when I know that there's a 75% chance we'll get on is to google: local artisans or artists and a place to stay -- yes, in that order. The artisans' details with phone numbers etc. are jotted down on pieces of paper lying around the house. These pieces travel with me in my handbag/backpack. I've manged to meet, visit, see and talk to quite a few people on my lists. Visiting local artists/artisans tops the 'to-do-list' for me when I'm travelling. Luckily, others in the family enjoy it too:)

So when in February this year, while travelling through Kutchch, my travel guru and buddy, Apu, mentioned that a friend of hers knew the director of  Khamir (the one on my list) and that we'd be given a tour of the place, I was ecstatic.

"Khamir in Kutcchi means pride." stated the director, Juhi Pandey.

"I read that it stands for yeast (like in Hindi...khameer) to show that this centre is like a catalyst..." I interjected unnecessarily.

"Yes." She carried on. "It is that too." She smiled and offered an explanation.

Note to self: stop blurting out googled facts to the people who know what they're talking about. Actually, just stop blabbing. Full Stop.

Notes I can take, follow their instructions....not so sure.

I didn't squeak a syllable after that. The sun was beating down on us and I could sense that the rest of the group wanted to listen to her, not me!

"After the earthquake," Juhi continued, "a group of weavers from near here came to us and asked for a loan to build their loom sheds. They said the only way they could get back on their feet was if they started working again. They said that although charities had re-built their homes, without work, they wouldn't be able to sustain themselves."

Juhi's silver earrings kept distracting me. They were gorgeous.

"The people of Kutchh are very proud of their heritage and when they insisted that they didn't want a hand out but a loan which they'd pay back, an idea was born and Khamir is the result."

Check out their story and other details here: KHAMIR and have a look at some of the photos I took:

 Under Indigo

 She laughs when we go Ewww...at the fact that cow dung is used to make the natural dyes used at Khamir vibrant and long lasting.

The yarn is boiled with it!

 To witness a process as ancient as the Indus Valley Civilization pumps me up with so much joy.

 Colourful human history
Some of the dyeing techniques are dying.
Here at Khamir, those techniques are being revived by giving the artisans the support they need to create and sell.

 Pit looms --where the weaver sits in a pit, so his feet dangle below the loom.

 Even the ugly plastic gets a useful makeover here

"Where did you get those earring from?" One of us asked Juhi.

The name of the jeweller was added to my list immediately.

No visit to a place like Khamir is complete without visiting their shop. So off we went, our group of women, to do what we (most of us at least) enjoy a lot -- yes, shopping; at least looking and oohing and aahing if not buying.

I bought this beautiful saree. The fabric wasn't woven here (it's a Chanderi) but the colours and the batik motifs were adorned to it in the village of Mundra in Kutchch.

Looking forward to seeing you here tomorrow.

Live lightly:)

B is for Bhunga(s) of Banni #AtoZChallenge

"Belief in oneself is one of the most important bricks in building any successful venture." 

Lydia M. Child

When Apu, my travel guru and guide, mentioned that we'd be staying in a bhunga in Kutchh, I found myself mouthing the word again and again. Try it -- say bhunga aloud (the u sounds like it does in put). How does it sound to you? To me, it sounded like the buzzing of a bee. The song 'Bhumro, Bhumro' kept popping in my head. 

Bhungas are circular mud huts.

This was in February of 2017. But before we slept in one, we saw a few bhungas on our way to the Runn of Kutchh. The road trip was tailored around visiting as many villages in Kutchh as possible to see the artisans and craftspeople I'd heard so much about. The thing that struck me the most was that Kutchhis don't create beautiful objects just to sell, they live in them, they wear them and they decorate their homes with them. Their earthy wisdom is palpable in everything; from their beautifully dressed children to their elegantly decorated homes. No sir, no one in the family's ever been to an Art school.

"They have divine grace in their fingers." said the guide at Calico Museum when she showed us pieces of Kutchhi handiwork. And I agree. Everything they create shimmers with their proximity to their roots, their earth and their mud.

 When the ceiling is so colourful, can you imagine how warm the people who live in these bhungas must be?

This is a shop in a bhunga. The village women use Ajrakh fabric to make quilts and bedspreads with  running stitch (all done by hand).

The men sell these and other hand embroidered wares like bags and cushion covers.

Perfectly balanced colours and composition

We stayed at the Gateway to Runn Resort This resort is run by the villagers of Dhordo. The place is beautiful BUT a word of warning: go easy on the chachh (buttermilk). We had a few cases of tender tummies in our group!

I couldn't resist using this 'bird on a bhunga' shot on my 'B' day:) 

Plus, it's one of my only bird shots that looks decent.

The people of Kutchh are hardworking and proud. Every Kutchhi I met, whether he was a weaver or a housewife who embroiders or a herdsman who works as a waiter in a resort during high season has these qualities. 

The older ladies may not be able to read and write, but they rule. 

She is the matriarch who sells her wares with immense charm and gentle persuasion.

When you look into those eyes, you know she doesn't need any meditation class to find her peace. She lives and works and in her free time she creates beautiful patterns with threads and needles and fabric and mirrors.

The quote I used to start this post describes the spirit of the  people of this region perfectly. If you read about their history, the climatic changes faced by them and the earthquakes that destroyed so much so many times, you'll find that the men and women of Kutchh are great builders and weavers and embroiders because they believe in themselves, their art, their land, their people and their heritage.

I want to be like them when I grow up.

What's the one thing you've done (recently or not so recently) with your hands to make your home more beautiful? 

I'd love to find out:)

Check out Architectural wonders to find out more about Bhungas and the people of Kutchh from Banni region.

I'm tempted to promise a post about their colourful clothing...it's a C you say? I know! 
But I'm travelling and the Internet may not be on my side, so we'll see. 
Ciao for now:)

A is for Adalaj step-well #AtoZChallenge

"All, everything that I understand,

I understand only because I love."

Leo Tolstoy

Welcome to my blog. This is my second A to Z challenge and like last year, I am theme-less. Words are my wine; I love them. So I hope I can share 'words' that talk to me. They may come strung in sentences or held in quotation marks to give them the importance they deserve. At times they'll flow freely in poetry or ramble down memory lanes and at times they may refuse to step out at all! We'll deal with their blockades when we come to them.

All's well for 'A' though, who I found impressed upon a well-thumbed menu at the Library Bar (in Split, Croatia) last night. The lighting was dim but the words by Tolstoy shone like diamonds. I start my challenge with them. 

I do hope you'll enjoy your time here. 

*****

An entire month of challenge lies ahead.
Pause for a bit in the shade.
Rest your feet.
The road ahead is unknown.
Walk in
to draw from the well.

Wells, we all have,
wait inside us:
to find our silence.

Stirred up
Churned up
It takes time to become still.

Come,
sit and sip from your well of tranquility.

*****

I saw my first step-well in February this year at Adalaj in Gujarat, India. Wells are called 'vav' in Gujarati.

"Set in the quiet village of Adalaj, this vav has served as a resting place for hundreds of years for many pilgrims and caravans along their trade routes. Built in 1499 by Queen Rudabai, wife of the Vaghela chief, Veersinh, this five-storey stepwell was not just a cultural and utilitarian space, but also a spiritual refuge. It is believed that villagers would come everyday in the morning to fill water, offer prayers to the deities carved into the walls and interact with each other in the cool shade of the vav." 

The information is from Gujarat Tourism website. 

For more details, check out: 

Adalaj Step-well 

Enjoy the weekend.
Flutter your wings and be free:)
See you with 'B'.

All is well

All is well in the Jain household.

That's saying something, considering Valentine's day came and went and no battles were fought, won or lost. Even the silent treatment didn't get aired or administered this year. What's going on?

Has the husband (and my Valentine by choice, not default) passed all his 'how to please the wife' training modules?

Has he, after nearly 25 Valentine's Days, decoded the elusive code to make me happy?

No and no.

Was it a piece of jewellery? Roses? Dinner?

No and No and nada!

So what happened?

I grew up. Simple. This year, at the ripe old age of 45, I suddenly felt all grown up and responsible for my happiness.

Flashback to when I was twenty-something and the husband was still a boyfriend...

This is what I expected from him on Valentine's Day and failing that, my birthday which was a few days away:

There'll be a beautifully wrapped box with a gorgeous dress inside with matching shoes, waiting for me in my room when I get back from work. On this box, there will be tickets to a concert and a voucher for a day long spa treatment with a love note from him telling me that a limo would pick me up at such and such time to go to the spa and then to the concert hall.

Cities changed, from Chennai to Calcutta to Delhi to London and now Doha, we wed and he became the husband, but my list of Valentine/birthday desires remained the same, more or less. Odd, when I think about it-- he didn't even know my shoe size then! And limo? At the salary we were making at twenty-three?

I digress.

My plans may sound awfully familiar to all of you who've either read Mills & Boon or watched Pretty Woman. I didn't say my romantic imagination was original. In fact, it's anything but. It's just what I'd expected for our first and every subsequent Valentine's.

REALITY check.

He did buy me a card for our first Valentine's.

I looked at it and watched the above-mentioned desires fall off the boughs of my romantic heart, one by one, like leaves in Autumn.

Disappointment often disguises as anger and mine did too. I was furious.

He misread the anger and assumed I had an inexplicable hatred towards cards.

Every Valentine's since then, he's asked me the same question, "Should I get you a card?"

My practical, pragmatic hubby has no idea...no clue ...not a peek into the workings of his wife's expectations.

And why should he? He NEVER expects me to get him anything either.

"Call yourself a feminist?" my seventeen year old son taunts.

Hmmm...here's a thought. Maybe, feminism is about taking charge of one's happiness and being responsible. We can't be flinging the baton of equality when it suits us and then wait for that 'surprise' from the man to tick all our expectation boxes and make us happy. Do we even know what this surprise looks like?

I don't. But I've always managed to make him feel guilty because he doesn't either!

Yes, it's taken me two decades to get this.

And the result?

My best Valentine's day to date.

National Sports Day coincided with Valentine's Day this year, so he was at home. We went for a run in the park and I clicked this picture of a rose, growing in a friend's front yard.

Ah! the joy letting go of expectations brings...

A rose becomes my garden. 

******

 "All is well." has such a calming ring to it. The minute you hear these three words, the heart beats softer and starts to smile, No?

A few weeks ago, I happened to be on a Heritage Walk in Ahmedabad. A kite stuck on electric wires declared All is Well. Who was I to disagree?

It was early morning. Children were getting ready for school. Mothers were busy packing their lunches. Shops hadn't opened. Brooms had cleaned the streets recently. Chants of prayers emanated from Hindu homes. Jains dressed in white made their way back home from temples. Call to prayer had rung out an hour earlier from the nearby mosque. Some windows were shut and some were half open. Agarbatti (incense) infused zephyr blew down the pols and narrow streets. All was indeed well with the world that beautiful morning.

Are you ready to hop on?

Smiling faces agreed to be photographed. 

 Getting ready for the day's business...the ironing-lady.

I was admiring this beautiful door, when it opened and ...

the lady of the house beamed a smile...her son is in grade 5.

"Return to your Center"

The couple's Tao Te Ching by William Martin

If you make a show of your love,

it will hide itself.

If you babble on about it,

your words will fail.

If you grasp and cling to it,

it will slip through your fingers.

You cannot approach that which has no beginning.

You cannot lose that which has no end.

You do not have to protect it.

How then can you experience it?

As a swimmer experiences the water.

Dive in.

If you're feeling somewhat separate

and distant from your beloved,

do the things that stabilize you.

Walk, dance, paint, meditate,

write, build, play or sing.

When you return to your center

you will find your beloved waiting.

******

Have a happy, peaceful dive.

till we meet again...