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Thursday, 16 June 2022
Red Sun Yellow Sky
Friday, 15 January 2021
Happy New Year!
It's a scene from the post that follows. You may have read it in April, but if you've not, then enjoy:) And even if you have, come along for another reminiscing...
This post is an amalgamation of genres. Imagination has been allowed to fly to the land of fantasy despite the lockdown. Names of two main characters have been picked purposefully: one from a children's book and the other from Greek mythology. Their names may be imaginary, but all the characters in this tale are real. All events are real too, well mostly.
Thank you and I hope you enjoy it.
Milk for Radishes
Surrounded by
High Mountains of the Himalayas in the north and Shivalik Hills in the south,
lay a valley called Doon. The green, green valley gurgled with gushing waters
of River Ganga in the east and River Yamuna in the west.
Legend has it that a wise Wizard once lived in this land. The people of the valley
called him Papadash the Perfect. No one knew where he had come from. Some say
he hailed from a faraway Western Kingdom of the Northern Frontiers: the land of
Perpetual Spring. But, everyone in the valley knew one thing for sure: the fact
that Papadash the Perfect had magical powers.
People of Doon, the Valley of Green,
had heard stories about the wise Wizard's ability to talk to plants to help
them grow. It was believed by the young and the old that he sang lullabies to
the climbing vines so they could sleep peacefully at night.
For it is common knowledge that only a well-rested vine can bear sweet
grapes and this is the way of the world.
Also, in the Valley of Doon, not
far from Papadash's Great Garden, there lived a little girl whose only dream
was to be the Most Green Gardener of all times.
Her name was Artemis.
The Moon had hung so low and so
full on the night of her birth, that her mother decided to name her after the Goddess
of Moon.
“We shall call her Artemis.” she
told her husband.
Artemis grew up in a field of Wildflowers
where her mother and father lived. They were the Beekeepers of the Valley.
“Half for us and half for the bees.”
Her father would sing when they went collecting honey.
For it is common knowledge that Man was assigned by the gods of All Things
Sweet as nature's Beekeeper, so the bees would never, ever go hungry and this
is the way of the world.
By the time Artemis was six years
old, her dream to become the Most Green Gardener of all times had taken root in
her heart.
“Why don't you work as an apprentice with Papadash?” suggested her mother who wanted to help her daughter but didn't know how.
Artemis's big brown eyes opened
up like saucers. She dashed off before her mother could finish saying what she
had to say.
Dragonfly’s wings, transparent and
tender, rose up in protest. She had spent the entire summer teaching Artemis
how to dance like a Dragonfly ballerina. In fact, Artemis had only recently
mastered the art of hovering still in position 5 on the very tip of the guava
tree branches. It was a secret the two friends shared. They were preparing a
dance to surprise mother and father on Summer Solstice day. This apprenticeship
would get in the way, thought dragonfly and decided to follow Artemis.
With her wild hair blowing in the breeze, her apple red cheeks flushed with excitement, Artemis reached the Big Metal Gate of the Great Garden where Papadash the Perfect lived.
"Ah...Ah…hh..." Artemis
huffed for breath as she stood face to face with the wise one, looking up into
his gentle eyes, trying to get a few words out.
"What is it child?"
Papadash asked.
"I want to be your apprentice forever and
ever and... I want to be the Most Green Gardener of all times and ...I want to
most certainly I want to and ....you have to say yes... and I cannot go back
now... And I want to and... please and..." Her words rattled off like a
woodpecker's drumming: on and on with no gaps for gulps of air.
Dragonfly flew in. She hovered anxiously
between Artemis and Papadash.
"Child." said Papadash
softly and put both his hands on her shoulders to calm her down. "What
took you so long? I've been waiting for you all these universes."
He smiled. His eyes twinkled. He
patted Artemis's wild hair and took out a twig that had hopped on for a free ride.
Artemis's heart was singing like a
lark. She was trying really hard not to jump up and down. Instead, she used the
back of her hand to wipe off drops from the tip of her button nose. All that
running had made her nose run too.
Before taking her hand to lead her
down the crisscross bricks of the path that led to the Great Garden, Papadash
bent down to pick up a bottle of milk that was lying by the Big Metal Gate and
slid it inside the deep pockets of his robe.
Blue Bird of Middle Himalayas,
perched on Mulberry, watched as they reached the shade of her tree. Papadash turned to Artemis and
said, "Now, I know I said I've waited for you for many galaxies which
is true, but this apprenticeship is very, very special. You have to accomplish a
Task before you can be accepted. For this is the way of the World of the
Wizards."
Artemis's eyes opened
wider. She shook her head up and down to show the Wizard that she was
listening.
"You can be my apprentice for
ever and ever as long as you can spend One Day--Today, with me in the Great
Garden without asking a single question."
"That's easy!” chimed Artemis,
cheering up at the thought of such an ordinary Task.
Dragonfly, too, cheered up.
Papadash the Perfect nodded kindly and carried on walking holding her hand. He bowed his head low as he passed under the pink blooms of Bougainvillea.
For it is common knowledge that all blooms and flowers are a gift from the
gods of All Things Beautiful and bowing to show them respect is the way of the
world.
The first stop they made was by a
short Pomegranate tree.
Papadash picked up some mud, mixed
it with water in his bowl of brass and turned it into a paste. Artemis watched
silently.
He then took a big helping of the
paste and applied it on the trunk of the tree like balm.
"You'll be fine young man.
You'll survive. Those silly cats don't know how to climb. I'm sorry! Here...
here." Papadash kept talking to the Pomegranate in his soothing voice
while applying the paste.
“You can ask him, he won’t mind.” Whispered Dragonfly in Artemis’s ear softly.
“No, Dragonfly. I want to pass the test.” Artemis stated clearly to her friend.
Next, he took a long strip of
cotton cloth and wrapped it around Pomegranate's trunk like a bandage.
"There!" exclaimed
Papadash, happy with his workmanship. "This will do."
A tiny whirlpool of questions was
beginning to churn inside Artemis's tummy. Bandages for trees? But she reminded
herself of the Task and kept quiet.
They bid Pomegranate goodbye and
Papadash added, "Get well soon." before he turned towards the patch
that was the Giant Bed for Radishes.
Artemis saw rows and rows of bright
green leaves sitting up straight in the Giant Bed.
"They like their Bed fluffy like you do." smiled Papadash. "So, I rake the soil and mulch and mulch. Air loves to tickle Earthworms you know. And when Earthworms are tickled happy, they make the Bed fluffy like clouds."
"How does he know about my bed?" wondered Artemis but bit her lips hard to stop the words from escaping her lips. This Task was making her tummy ache with all the questions that were piling up inside her belly.
“Go on….you know you want to ask him.” Encouraged
Dragonfly.
Artemis ignored her and carried on.
Next, Papadash took out the bottle
of milk he had been carrying in his robe and undid the lid. He bent down
towards the Bed of Radishes and poured out a little bit.
"There...there...my
babies...drink up the sweet milk. It's fresh from Cow. She knows you need it to
make you sweet and ripe." whispered the wise Wizard to each Radish as he
poured a little milk down into the soil.
It was getting too much for
Artemis. She had never been silent for this long. And the whirlpool of
questions was churning inside her like a hurricane now. If she kept quiet any
longer, she'd burst open like a seedpod, she thought.
The wise Wizard uprooted a Radish.
It shone smooth and white like the moon in the afternoon sun. He shook it a few
times to get rid of the fluffy soil and gave it to Artemis to eat.
She was happy to take a bite for
this would stop the question from escaping her lips.
"Crunch...Crunch..."
Artemis could not believe how sweet the Radish was.
She thanked Radish and the fluffy
soil for giving her such a tasty treat.
For it is common knowledge that all food is a gift from the gods of Soil and
Earth and saying thank you to them is the way of the world.
By the time she had finished eating
the Radish and saying her thank you, Dragonfly had filled her ears with more
questions.
Artemis could
hold back no more. She blurted, “How do you know Radishes like milk Papadash?”
But, before she could finish her question, she was back at the field of Wildflowers, under the guava tree where Dragonfly had taught her all the movements and poses.
“No!” sobbed Artemis. “This cannot
be.”
The Mountains High of the north and
the Shivalik Hills of the south still recall tales of the wise Wizard who lived
once upon a time in a Garden where Radish drank milk. The River Ganga and
the River Yamuna babble about his magic that turned the whirlpool of questions
inside Artemis into songs of belief, of magic and of the way of all the worlds
across all galaxies and universes. The Wind carries tales of Dragonfly’s
selfishness who wanted her friend to be only hers and how Artemis worked hard
for a whole long year before she found the path that led her back to the Great
Garden to ask Papadash once again if he’d take her as his apprentice.
For it is
common knowledge that dreams are worth pursuing through disappointments and
hardships and that is the way of all the dreamers of this world and beyond who
are able to turn their dreams into reality.
I continue the 'talking to our plants and trees' tradition in my garden in Doha.
Papaji's name was inspired by my daughter's favourite book character when she was a toddler. He's called Balderdash the Brilliant. Artemis was an easy choice.
Friday, 31 August 2018
A story: Of four women on a road trip in India
It was almost time for lunch. The plan was to explore Elle Neer waterfall before sunset.
The caretaker's simple and matter of fact suggestion implied that we may be pouring a glass or two of our chosen poison at the end of the day.
So what's the big deal?
Nothing, really. No big deal.
But there's a reason why I'm sharing this here on my blog today.
Let me explain.
Almost a month ago, I read Deepa Krishnan's facebook post of 21st July 2018. Her post was about the "singular lack of multiple narratives about Indian women" vis-a-vis women's safety in India. Krishnan had shared this Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's famous TED talk video focussing on the "danger of a single story" and written, "If you keep telling one story it becomes the defining image of a people." on her post.
Some of you who've read the last para may think: so what's the big deal? Where is the story?
And therein lies my point. There is no story to spin. Four of us: all women, travelled in a car driven by a woman, found a beautiful home-stay to spend two nights, trekked a bit, got very, very wet under a waterfall, got bitten by leeches, cackled over silly jokes and then travelled back to our homes, lives, jobs, husbands, children etc. --all in one piece without a single man bothering us in any shape or form.
The roads were Indian and the humans who guided us to step carefully over slushy mud to see a gorgeous horizon or to bathe under a thunderous waterfall were men (yes, Indian)--gentle, kind, caring men. Indian men cooked delicious dosas and prepared hot steaming coffee on demand and served us our food with a smile.
The humans who sat and chatted on the little porch overlooking the gorgeous green and grey of tea gardens smothered in fog were all men, too: c0-owners of the home-stay called Thengaali. They were happy to receive feedback on how to make their place even more comfortable for future guests from our group of four women. Apu pointed out that they should put extra hooks for clothes in their bathrooms. They nodded and promised they'd get that sorted.
This is the 'other' story--the one that is repeated day in and day out in streets and on roads of India but never ever gets reported. Why? Is it because it's inconsequential? Or, perhaps, it's not spicy enough to sell?
Of course, there are exceptions. There are parts of India where we're less likely to travel like we did from Bangalore to Kudremukha. Those kind of places and areas exist in every nook and city of this world--from Chicago to Birmingham to Jakarta. Common sense should be the first thing you pack when you plan a holiday whether you're a man or a woman.
There are states in India where the caretaker will not be happy to serve you sprite or soda with vodka--whether you're a man or a woman.
There are men who'll be reading this post and wondering how my husband allows me to go off gallivanting with my girlfriends like this.
There are women who'll be reading this post and wondering the same. Perhaps there will be more women than men. I don't know.
Perceptions and prejudices are part and parcel of the human story. I'm not an expert but I'd say prejudices and perceptions are evolutionary tools that helped us get to where we are today. One perceived danger and avoided it. Over time that perception morphed into prejudice. Or perhaps it did so when we lived as tribal nomads. Thus, helping tribes to keep their own safe against perceived or actual danger from other tribes.
That was then. This is now. We have moved from tents to tower blocks, but we insist to carry those prejudices with us like second skin.
Single narratives protect and nourish this second skin.
Everything you feel, goes through the pores of this second skin. It becomes your reality. If you don't know otherwise, what you know becomes your truth--you don't question it.
So, the whole point of this post is to present a side of India that doesn't get talked about much: the safe and unbiased side--where men are so comfortable with themselves and their place in society that they have the courage to treat women as an equal and advise them to stock up on soda and sprite before the corner shop up in the hills of western ghats shuts for the day.
It's become fashionable to call such men feminists these days. I'm married to one such man. He seems normal to me.
After reading Krishnan's post, I've decided to share examples of ordinary men and women in India who live a life of equality as often as I can. I want to infuse my two pennies worth into the human narrative of the country I was born in.
I'm aware that reporting and talking about men behaving badly is very, very important. I'm aware that drinking alcohol is not a measure of liberty for either men or women. I'm aware that there is a long and arduous journey ahead of us before women can feel truly equal to men--not just in India but everywhere in the world. I may be a dreamer but my feet are firmly grounded in reality. Yes, I'm aware of the stark naked unfairness so many women face every day.
But, stories that are ordinary and mundane and not anti-men also need to be shared. Otherwise, we are in danger of painting a single 'image of a people.'
What's your story? Please share instances of 'good' whenever you can, no matter how small or inconsequential it may look.
Friday, 25 August 2017
A Chennai full of stories.
All of my first stories sprung from my grandparents: Beji and Papaji and a couple from my father.
Stories hold that power: the power to transport you in time and space, in memory and in sense, in smell and in taste, in touch and and in feelings. Stories are like the threads of a tassel that bind us together as a family, a community, a country, a people, a history, a nation, a race and humanity. Stories trickle down traditions, read across pages of epics and race down memories. They escape lips and sound out that which we know has always existed within us as carriers of this cosmos, but love to be reminded of our place, our destinies, our heritage and our aspirations anyhow.
The distance between birth and death is as long as a story.
But don't be fooled into thinking that your story is separate from mine or that each one of us can package our own individual story in a neat little box and tuck it away. No, sir. Our stories are all tangled together, entwined and connected. We may be bouncing in our own private orbits and we may think that what we see and experience is unique to us and doesn't effect others, or vice versa, but in the end the trampoline of cosmos we're bouncing on is the same for all of us. Our actions send out ripples that go on and on--so it is important that we pay close attention to how we conduct our lives.
I digress. Sorry. So to Chennai...
I kept Dr. A informed of the itinerary that was taking shape. She's a busy surgeon with just enough time to sleep at night. I'm a self professed traveller living off of my husband's salary, who can even take afternoon naps.
"This adventure is beginning to sound like Thelma and Loiuse." texted Ambika one day after I'd found a great home-stay off the beaten track.
"I like Ambika and Arti better." I texted back.
"Besides, I'm not planning to end like Thelma and Louise--not done with my travelling yet." I thought to myself. I didn't type that.
Instead, smiley emojis were exchanged. Bags were packed, flight boarded and we were off.
Thanks to a recommendation sent by Shefalii of Photoconcierge, we started our Chennai adventure with a walking tour conducted by Akila Raman of Story Trails.
Trust me, you've got to experience it to know how amazing it is. We started at four in the evening and ended at seven. I can honestly say that those were the best three hours of story-magic I've ever experienced.
Akila told us so many wonderful stories and with such skill that I didn't feel like an audience. I was that little girl again-- the one who'd sit next to Beji on her clean kitchen floor and listen. And Beji would open the portal of time and space and I'd watch Kanha steal butter. As if by magic, I'd become a character in Beji's stories. That's exactly how I felt that evening in Chennai. Thank you Akila and thank you Shefalii.
The shots that follow are from inside his home.
9 yards of silk and brocade hangs in the courtyard:
Earth can yield--lamps, bricks, pillars and slabs--same source but such different lives.
Street food: served with love.
The beautiful church in Mylapore.
It was built on the tomb of Saint Thomas and is known as San Thome Basilica.
It is a Roman Catholic minor basilica
Mary in pink.
I saw this rose on the floor of the temple priest's house and wondered how it got there?
Was it in a garland?
Was a woman wearing it in her hair?
Did someone leave it there on purpose?
And just like that, a story started taking shape.
That's how easy they are--these stories of our lives.
And if we choose to play the victim, then it's our choice.
For my part, I choose to be the hero of my story--every time--
no matter what drama is unfolding around me.
What about you?
What's your story looking like this morning?