Amman: a morning

Taxi ride from Amman airport to the city

December morning
a terrace
in Amman
by the lemon tree
no lemons to see or even a tree
only a  stump -- evidence that there was once a lemon tree here.

Chimneys high and low
swirl out puffs of smoke
in patterns of their choice--
circles, eggs or just wispy threads.

An English Breakfast teabag sits in the cup I hold and wonders why it's not been taken out yet.
I like my tea strong.
The bag doesn't know this yet but
it will be plastered to the side of the cup and squeezed with the back of the spoon till the very last dribs dribble out.
For now, it swims in hot water and watches vapour rise above the rim and vanish into the blue sky above.

Impermanence of existence:
Breath
Body
and
Bonds
Every moment is a reminder.

White smoke of chimneys climbs up and turns transparent.
Sky is smoke or is smoke the new sky?
I wonder--
who's cooking today?
A mum?
A dad?
or a hired hand?
Will it be eggs or pancakes for breakfast?

******

It's been a while since I've written or blogged. My days have been beating to a rhythm of their own lately. Reading books and articles, checking out pinterest pics for designs of saree blouses has been seeping into my ordinary. I've just got back from a short trip to Bangalore. A beautiful pink cotton and a sky blue silk saree came along in my handbag. Yes, I do tend to pack my new purchases in my handbag -- much to my family's amusement -- because I feel that in case of a misplaced or lost baggage situation, at least I'll have my newbies with me. Logic and saree lovers don't see eye to eye. Period.

Summer and politics has kept TV screens and news channels busy in this part of the world. True to my nature, I've switched myself off and escaped to the land of books and a tiny bit of travel and walks and meditation and sitting with eyes open and day dreaming--like I used to when I was 5 or 6 or even 10. That part of my inner child or childhood is growing inside in leaps and bounds and taking me along on so many lucid journeys that I forget to visit my laptop to write.

I woke up early today. Old rumblings of a desire to write and share were knocking my insides, so I crept out of bed, looked at my phone and knew I had a couple of hours of absolute quiet before the husband and son would wake up. A glass of lemon water and a cup of adrak wali chai later, I started to pour out my post at the kitchen table.

Amman came up--a memory, a feeling, a wispy cold breeze I'd love to feel now (when the sun is glowering at us in his 50 degree suit).

I'd spent a total of five, maybe ten minutes when the husband walked in with his noisy slippers--phacchaaak, phachaaak, phachaaak...

I tried to ignore and carry on but failed.

"I've only just started...and your slippers are so noisy..." I complain without looking up.

He knows. He knows how I get when a post needs to be knocked out of me. He grabs a banana from the counter top.

"Want a bite?" he asks "it's the last one."

Love for his generosity mixes with regret at being so short with him--his slippers have always been noisy. I decline with a nod and go back to my screen.

"There's no milk in the fridge and no fruit left." he mentions as a parting shot just as he exits the kitchen.

 We'd planned to go grocery shopping today. But my fingers want to type and the heart is filling up with the usual blogging excitement, so I'm gonna write, share and then cater to the needs of our empty fridge.

"Let them eat toast." I think to myself and keep going on my laptop. 

Back to Amman, a city worth a stop. I was there in December of 2016. I spent a solo sunny day of exploring and a rainy half day with Angela. The people, the food, the art, the history, the local crafts--I loved it all. Here's a collection of photos I took.

Streets of Amman ...

Peeping inside gardens visible from the street -- treasures to behold and cherish

The missing 'U' in laundry service: Apt, I think as 'they' do the dirty work not 'U'!

I think I get the message:)
The husband has always maintained this philosophy but when one sees it on a billboard, one gets it!

Awash and empty... post rains.

 We stepped inside to escape the rain, and found a treasure trove of local crafts beautifully displayed and curated...at Jordan River Foundation.

The rain stopped me from taking my camera out but if you're in Amman, DO NOT miss out visiting:
1. Wild Jordan
2. Jacaranda Images

You can get all the information you need on www.visitjordan.com

Pick up or download (from above website) the Map of Downtown, Luweibdeh and Jabal Amman.

It's the best guide to explore the city in a short time--with easy to follow layout showing 

art galleries, studios, markets and restaurants.

 I ended my Amman tour with a cup of coffee at Books@Cafe-- loved it.

His smile says it all: Jordan is full of smiles and helpful, kind souls.

Hope to see you soon.
Smile--it's Sunday:)
xoxo

Petra portraits -- of humans, animals and stones

It's been too long.

I've missed you. Let's meet soon.

Does the first weekend in December work for you?

How about Petra?

Done.

Just over a week ago, Angela and I found ourselves, bathed and ready, waiting for the door that led to the breakfast buffet to open at 5:55 am. The doors opened at 6 sharp and we entered. This was a first for both of us, waiting for a restaurant door to open for breakfast. Angela had another first to follow -- her first time in Petra. This was my second time in 7 years but this time I 'd brought my blogging eyes with me, i.e. my camera.

Going through 500 plus clicks to pick just enough to give you a feel of the place but not spoil the surprise for those of you who are planning to visit Petra in the not so distant future, turned out to be an enjoyable and tedious task. Reliving those magical moments (and there were lots of them) has put a song in my heart and even though the kitchen sink is full of unwashed dishes and there's no sign of dinner, I'm humming a happy song.

Come, feel the sun on the ancient rocks.

See how each layer, sediment and pigment lights up under the blue sky.

Lose yourself in the kohl rimmed eyes of the charming Bedouin men who flirt with you with such confidence and charm that you can't help but smile back.

Sip sweet sage tea offered by Bedouin women who show you pictures of their children on their phones and whose skin glistens and eyes smile.

And just like the clip-clop, clip-clop of the hooves on stones laid down almost 3000 years ago by the Nabataean tribes fades when the animals cross over to the sandy patches in this ancient land, dissolve in the silence of the stones.

Listen with your eyes.

And let the silence of all those who've walked these parts before us keep you company...

These pictures are in no particular order. I surrender to this wonder and let Petra show me the way...with just a few words, I promise, just the bare minimum...

Monsieur Camel, they whispered. 

 Ahmed, our guide.

 This is Hassan. He sells silver bracelets.

Saw him cleaning the Siq on our way back.

Look up!

The 450 year old tree.

Straightened her red jacket, she did...as she caught sight of us wielding camera and phone:)

A rich man's cave, joked Ahmed, with two car garage:)

 Audi and his donkey, Michael Jackson

And we walked into an Asterix comic strip; as if the obelisks around weren't enough.

Made in India:)

That's a fully grown man in the foreground-- the Monastery.

Fifteen year old Mohammed whose family lives in the Bedouin village, down in the valley. 

He sells snacks in this shop and sleeps in a cave nearby as it's not practical to go back home everyday.

 

Fix roofs, add solar panels and then breathe-- inhale, exhale.

 Camel caravan...his legs wrapped in toga and the camel's belly become one with stone and history.

Art's never far...bought a portrait...will share another day.

Sad eyes, happy laugh.

clip-clop...clip-clop

Silent stones

and 

eyes

that speak volumes

tug at you;

at the bit in you

that was there when light first touched earth

the bit that feels the connection

of air and ether

 of the cosmos within

and human history on show.

Hope to see you soon.

Have a wonderful weekend.