Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts

Thursday, 16 June 2022

Red Sun Yellow Sky


I've been an absentee blogger since April 30th 2022. All I have as a way of explanation is a bag full of excuses. 

This April, our first holiday since February 2020 crossed paths with my first #NaPoWriMo. I wasn't sure how I'd cope. But I did well:)

I was able to post daily and even got featured twice! Yay!! I absolutely loved the discipline of  crafting a new poem daily (to prompts-- no less). But what I loved even more was reading some amazing poetry and posts throughout April. 

Every time I participate in the April challenge of blogging from A to Z, I promise myself that I'll be as committed to my blog after the challenge is over as much as I am while it is on. But. But. Every year, all I'm left with is a bag full of excuses to offer.

I hope, fingers crossed, that with this short post, I'll put myself back in the saddle and ride, nay, trot along rather gently with my other blogger buddies. You see, I owe a lot to my blog and my blogging journey. Everything that can be counted as anything of substance in my writing career is somehow linked to this blog. The writing process-- its discipline of writing regularly escapes me when I'm not blogging. And funnily enough, it's only when I'm in this sacred space of writing and sharing that my writing stretches its limbs and shakes off its lethargy.

I do post on Insta every now and then but the 'instantaneous' quality of those posts (known as captions for a reason) is so short lived that I barely get the chance to dip my toes and its the next morning, the next week and just like that a whole month has gone by.

The tile of this post is "Red Sun Yellow Sky" because it's the title of the story I'm sharing here with you.

I had the good fortune of sharing this personal story on 26th March 2022 on a zoom session hosted by Shanty Rose who created a fabulous storytelling forum called "Across and Beyond the Arabian Sea". We, the story tellers, were asked to share personal stories on the theme of 'The Gift/Gifts". This is what I shared--


Thank you for listening to Rana's story. 

We are all stories after all. But, it's thanks to challenges and forums that stories embedded in us get aired.

I hope to see you all soon with some pics and posts about my first ever trip to Turkey.

How's the last month or so been for you? Are you making any travel plans? Is summer a time of the year you look forward to or dread? You know I'd love to find out, if you'd like to share.

Stay well. Keep safe and hydrated. Till we meet again.

Friday, 15 January 2021

Happy New Year!

Dear Readers, 

Happy New Year!

I hope you've all been well and healthy.

My January turned joyous when I saw this animated illustration yesterday. It's been done by the amazingly talented @bohrasisters. 

I've been following them on Instagram for sometime. One of their recent animated illustrations reminded me of my grandfather. So, I sent them a message and we connected.

I wasn't sure why I reached out but I could see my memories reflected in their art. So, I shared a couple of my A to Z (April 2020) memoir posts with them.

Then magic happened.

They were as thrilled as I was to illustrate some of my memories. 

Here's the one that arrived yesterday:

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.
(Picture: clicked in 2019, Jhinjhi Village, Uttarakhand, entroute Kuari Pass)

                                                                                                                        

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.

 

************************
Papaji, my grandfather did indeed bandage his plants and feed milk to his radishes. He even soaked seeds in milk before planting them. Whenever we asked him, he'd say it makes his radishes sweet like milk. We often ate vegetables pulled straight out of the ground, unwashed. And if Mummy complained about hygiene, he would say: "A little dirt will make them stronger.

I continue the 'talking to our plants and trees' tradition in my garden in Doha. 

A note about the names:
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

"If you need soda or sprite for the evening, please get it when you go to the waterfall." informed the caretaker of the homestay when we checked in. 

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.
Something in those lines nudged me to tell my story, our story: a simple story of four ordinary Indian women travelling from Bangalore to Kudremukha for a weekend to trek, to share dreams and disappointments, to laugh out loud, to make fun of each other, to plan the next rendezvous, to enjoy delicious food, to sip fresh filter coffee in the morning and vodka tonic in the evening, to ask for spicy peanuts to go with the drinks in the evening as easily as demanding (politely, of course) bhajias with coffee. 

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.
Leaving you with this cheerful portrait of Ms. Bano (I forget her first name: sorry) who is a Gujjar from Madhya Pradesh. She, along with her family, is hired as a tea picker to work on daily wages on this tea plantation in the Western Ghats.
Enjoy a happy and peaceful weekend.

Friday, 25 August 2017

A Chennai full of stories.

Can you recall the first stories you were told? Did they come from books or from hearts? Were you tucked in bed or sat on a lap? Was it on cold winter nights or on warm summer days?
All of my first stories sprung from my grandparents: Beji and Papaji and a couple from my father.

A veritable mismatched pitara (treasure trove) of Krishna's antics, Rama's principles, the horrors of 1947 partition, the sweetness of the fruit that grew in their garden in Shinkiari in North West Frontier (now in Pakistan) mixed with faint memories of Beji-- of when as a little girl, she visited the tall Buddhas of Bamiyan (which are no more). She couldn't remember if someone in her family took her with them or told her stories of the tall Buddhas but she spoke as if she'd been there herself. Maybe she'd travelled in the descriptions she'd heard.

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...
Last month, on an early morning walk in Doha, Ambika mentioned that she'd be travelling to Chennai for work. 

She's a friend and a surgeon and she'd been asked to lecture/conduct workshops etc. at Chennai, Madurai and Tanjavore.

"Can I tag along?" I asked shamelessly. The cities she had just mentioned have been on my ever growing bucket list and I couldn't resist this opportunity.

"Of course."

The flights looked okay. That was that. I plunged into research to ensure my Tamil Nadu adventure would be a fruitful one.

Friends who live locally were contacted. Google was put in top gear.

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's passion for the place, her knowledge and her melodious voice all came together to take us on a journey that started on a hot July afternoon is bustling Mylapore in 2017 and after meandering through stories of Shiva, Parvati and their two sons and the one about the treaty signed by the Muslim kings who own the land on which sits the temple tank as well as the one about the pink saree that Mother Mary is adorned with at Mylapore Church, it ended with a strong cup of filter coffee and dosa. If I ever have a chance to visit Chennai again, any tour by Akila will be the first thing I'll add to my itinerary.

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.

Spiritual pondering inside Kapaleeshwara temple:



Why did the chicken cross the road?
To enter the temple.
 Preparing for a festival. Story telling through dance and drama and all the colourful props.

Shakti worships Shiva. Yes, she's the peacock...it all links back to ancient texts and legends--stories as old as humanity.
Parvati and Shiva temples are adorned with red and white stripes. 
Perhaps, like the lingams, the colours hint at  the feminine and masculine energies of the universe.
Why do people whisper in Nandi's ear? 
Because he has the power to reach Shiva even if the latter is in the deepest meditative state.
And I thought secretaries are a modern invention!
Legends and beliefs aside, I whispered a little prayer of my own. 
If and when it comes true, I will let you know.
Akila with her audience:)
By the time we stepped out of the temple, the hot sun had decided to descend. 
The temple tank
The setting sun lights up the houses opposite the tank.
We had the privilege of entering the temple priest's house with Akila.
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.
But remember this: we are the authors of our stories--no one else. It's only us. Always us.
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?