Gardening in Doha... Diagnosis-Obsessive Compulsive Gardening Disorder

While my friends in London take out their lawn mowers,
I clean out the pots that held pretty petunias.
While they watch the drama of their flower beds unfold
And gear up for the Chelsea Flower show,
I dust off the baskets which were burdened with blossoms
just a few weeks ago.

Yes, 'tis that time of the year in Doha
when old must give way to the new
The concerto of colours that was played out in my yard
must now bow out to the curtain call
of the searing, sweltering heat of the desert.

I thank thee...my  phone with the camera button
for letting me capture these flippant beauties in their prime
for I may never have the time to "lie on my couch
In vacant or in pensive mood"
like dear old William Wordsworth
but with your help
I can reminisce vividly when
"They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;"
or scroll down my computer screen
"And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils."
Or in my case-
Anything that grew in my yard
in this thirsty land.      

My love affair with my yard
became public
on Valentine's day
but my family are
now thinking of sending me to rehab
while I keep saying: 'No! No! No!
(cheesy, I know.)
for in their eyes
I suffer not from 'love'
but from OCGD-
Obsessive Compulsive Gardening Disorder.

I will continue to deny
and keep sharing my
photo albums with you
like the proud parent
who doesn't understand why
showing their baby's 56 photos
of almost identical poses
should not THRILL the audience.

In this post today
I share with you
what happened
in the Spring of 2014
in a little yard
that became my addiction...



This bath tub was discarded by a neighbour and now lives happily in my garden. It has yielded peas, potato vines, lemon grass, geraniums and lots of nasturtiums over the years. It is also home to a blooming oleander shrub.

The tyre project came to life after the husband changed his car tyres and brought the old ones home. I used one to plant my first pond in Doha and a couple others on the wall.

This pale petunia looked ethereal against the beautiful March sky.

"What is blue? the sky is blue

Where the clouds float thro'."

(Colour by Chritina Rossetti)

Almost anything that I can fill with soil comes out- here's my vegetable basket from the kitchen holding a mint pot.

Clustervine...

Succulents are such kind plants- demanding little and giving so much. Can you see the flecks of magenta on the edges of the orange petals?

Baskets full of thyme. The fragrance of thyme...heaven!

And the long shot...

The ubiquitous bougainvillea and petunias and pansies:-

I was super thrilled to find this trailing geranium in a nursery here. You can't imagine what an adventure it is to find plants here. It's not like stepping into a garden centre in London or visiting a nursery in Dehradun where you know you are sure to find certain plants. Here, the intermittent supply chain creates a sense of excitement every time you visit a nursery because you never know what you might spot.

I bought this African bowl (made from a gourd)at a yard sale for a $1. Bargain! Yes, yard sales are great for finding pots in Doha as they can be an expensive purchase here.

Desert Rose...

And another long shot...

This year I used these bamboo mats to support this vine- the guy at the nursery said it's 'morning glory'. I don't know for sure as the morning glory I know of has different blooms and leaves. This could be an Ipomea vine. Do you know what this is called? I like the marriage of these leaves and the bamboo mat.

As the summer temperatures soar, I look forward to these buds to bloom. The lemon grass and jasmine perfume the sultry summer days. Gardenias (in partial shade) and Ixoras (in full sun) continue to cheer me up while I sweat buckets and drag my exhausted self indoors after only a few hours of 'gardening'. 

I have a big garden clear out planned for tomorrow...hope to keep the green going for as long as it is possible before the summer scorches everything into dust except for the strong and  the resilient.

A weekend in Muscat- (Part 2) A chance meeting with Donkey from Shrek at Al-Twairaah Wadi.

Our next stop (after Nakhal Fort ) was Al- Tawairaah Wadi. Before I continue, I must mention that the photo credit for some of the photos in this post goes to Danielle and Ruchita (my friends with cameras.)

The gurgling water looked extremely enticing as we stepped out of the cool air-conditioned car into the hot mid-day sun.

I had to step in. BE WARNED- the pebbles are extremely slippery, but the cool water was delicious. There were fish, too. I couldn't get a good shot but a few came over to nibble at my feet:)

We continued our hopping-walking- hobbling- avoiding slippery pebbles- finding dry rocks waddle through this clear stream. Luckily, there weren't too many people there - just a few families dotted around. 

This bunch of children eating mangoes (cooled in the stream) took me back to my childhood picnics in Sahastradhara(Sulphur Springs), Dehradun.

The peaceful afternoon had a soft beat to it- a group of local lads created impromptu melodies with their drums.

Further down the stream was the hot spring. This a rectangular pool filled with 'men' and 'boys', but the water overflows and cascades down back into the stream.

On the river bank

We found a nice spot under a tree where we sat down. These lads were sitting across from us. 

A house by the river bank

And that's where I spotted Donkey!

Isn't he gorgeous?

We had a great time relaxing in this stream while we waited for our driver to finish his Friday prayers. In fact, we ended up playing Antakshari (a singing game based on Indian film songs) with a few contributions from Danielle, too.

I would recommend that you go there earlier in the day (especially on weekends) before the place starts getting crowded. As we were making our way back to the car, the crowds had started pouring in. And pack a picnic- nothing like eating in the outdoors.

A weekend in Muscat- Nakhal Fort

A hastily planned trip to visit a dear friend last month took us (my girlfriends and I) to Muscat, Oman.

One of the first things we explored on a hot and sunny Friday morning was the Nakhal (Arabic for palm tree) Fort. I didn't carry a camera, but used my phone to take pictures.

My phone and I found little treasures all over the fort. But first, few facts about the fort:-

The sign outside this room reads 'date store'.

The metal detail on a chest.

The ceiling in another room

The room with a view

This was my favourite room in the fort. 'Wali' (according to an Omani visitor) means Chief or Governor.

This is the view as you enter the room.

Wali's bed

I love the vibrant colours of the cloth on the canopy.

'Sandook' aka trunk.

A selfi(sh) attempt

A fellow tourist/photographer kindly let me take this picture of his while he rested in the shade

On my way to the top

The view from the top

Ready to leave... the last door

I would have loved to spend more time here. This fort has a very 'wise old man' feel to it- a place where you can sit for hours and feel at peace. I have been here twice now, the last time was with the family almost five years ago. Even then, I remember, the children enjoyed walking through the fort discovering its treasures.

Even though the rooms have been embellished with 'modern' fabrics, cushions and china, the fort retains its old world charm. The stunning location and the labyrinthine structure can keep you absorbed for hours.

For better quality pictures of the fort and for beautifully presented details about Oman, visit http://catbirdinoman.wordpress.com/. I stumbled upon this blog recently. If you wish to visit Oman, this blog is a good place to find out what you should see.

Next stop-  Al Twairah wadi

Spring Cleaning

Today, I decided to spring clean my desk, my house and my blog. The desk and the house are sending me the 'guilty as charged- crime -laziness' vibes. The unfinished files and the unfolded laundry sigh and wait...while I spend my entire day playing with templates ...I mean spring cleaning my blog!

Thanks to

http://www.21rosemarylane.com/2013/02/creating-header-for-your-blog-using.html
and

http://xomisse.com/blog/unlock-and-remove-header-gadget/

for providing novices like me valuable tutorials on how to fix things on blogger.

I must hasten to add that a lot of 'fixing' required was completely self inflicted. There wasn't any great need to clean up the blog and not much was cleared out but enough was prettied up.

That's the story with my house cleaning, too. I start with cleaning out my cupboard and before long the whole house is marching upon me like Macbeth's Birnam Woods. And how do I cope? I spend the next few days arranging flowers - oblivious to the piling chaos. Only a 'this- is- my- last- clean- underwear' cry from one of the family jolts me back into my 'normal working condition'.

Once the 'normal working condition' button is switched back on, there is no room for slackers in the house.
'A place for everything and everything in its place' motto is telecast to the family at regular intervals. The teenagers huff and puff and the husband furiously buries himself deeper in his ipad to avoid the wrath of my 'normal working condition'.

 I sometimes wonder if the family would rather have me in my 'spring cleaning condition' as long as there is  an endless supply of clean underwear, of course.

It's almost bed time and I have managed to do one thing on the blog - actually two. Got rid of the polka dots -Out damn polka dots (at least for now)- Macbeth is on my mind today...wonder why? and written this post. All's not lost.

Good night and hope to come back with a post on Muscat soon.

A Punjabi Wedding

A phone call from a cousin who I had last seen on my wedding day (almost twenty years ago) inviting me to her son's wedding compelled me to pack my bags and board the flight to Delhi.

What was so compelling about the call? I am still trying to figure it out.

Was my decision to go based on the superficial enjoyment of food, clothes, music and general dhamaal (chaos = fun in Punjabi weddings) or was I looking for something else? And did I find it?

All those years of not being in touch with the family melted into tears of joy when I saw my cousin. We hugged and cried and our hearts played our shared memories like a flashback scene from a 1970s Indian film. No words were needed and none were exchanged. Just the warmth of hugs and the love in moist eyes was enough.

I was home.

Home? Where is it? What do economic nomads like us call home? And should it even matter? Do my friends and family who have stayed on in India feel that they are home?

Does home come with you wherever you go  or do you go home when you have completed your parental duties of settling the children and then make your way back to the motherland?

Does home live within you or do you live inside a home?

As I stood there, surrounded by my ageing cousins and their 'adult' children, my childhood memories became my 'home'- a place where I could go back to and take a refreshing dip into a time when how I looked, what I wore, how I spoke or what I said  did not define me. I was me and that was enough.

That is where I wanted to  travel to when I decided to go for my nephew's wedding who I had not seen in more than twenty years.

Did I find it? Yes and no- but more about that later (I don't want to bore you with my thoughts just yet. I will do so via another post:) maybe!)

Let me share a snapshot of the wedding as I saw it, there are many 'Hindi/Punjabi' words in the lines I penned down.

For my non- 'Hindi/Punjabi' friends, I can offer a translation but it'll be like drinking masala chai without the sugar... it's not the same.

Here goes...

Tears of joy, peals of laughter
awkward silences and chitter-chatter

Bhangra, Bollywood  and the DJ
Thumkas and jhumkas on display

Belles in parandis
Handsome dandies

Jalebi, rabadi and Dal ka halwa
Sizzling bhindi on the tawa

The beat of the drum
Beer, Whiskey and Rum

Bahri Bursi and lots of Haldi
Chachas, Bhuas, Maamis and Masi.

Midrifs and cholis, hairdos and stilettos
Silver and gold and magenta, too

Garam garam pakoras with hot steaming chai
Safety pins and sarees, suit and tie

Band, Baaja and Baraat..too loud to talk
High heels that are too painful to walk

But all is forgotten when the dhol beats are rung
the booty is shaken and the arms are flung

I miss the dholak with the spoon
I miss the home spun fun
It's all very organised and performance based
I miss the chaos
It's all very 'wedding planner-like' these days.
Times are changing and
I am growing nostalgic
for the simple way of life
that was pure magic

I ask myself
what do I miss the most
Is it my lost innocence
or
something else
that I can't put my finger on?

I said my goodbyes with exhausted eyes
What a journey this wedding was
I travelled back in time
and time reminded me
that it always moves
forward.

xxxxxxx

Here are a few shots...




This Ganapati was created by a twelve year old (Laxmi) who sometimes helps her mom with household chores at my cousin's place.
So while she was waiting in the kitchen, she started sculpting him out of dough!
Sadly, we later ate yummy paranaths made with the same dough.
Laxmi's Ganapati lasted just long enough for me to take a photo.
I feel lucky. Isn't she talented?



My didi's gorgeous saree

Nothing like pakora and chai to re-energise tired Punjabis.



The lights...



the drums...

And the 'Dulha' (the bridegroom)
I couldn't resist 'sepia-ising' this photo... call me a sucker for all things old...if you will.

I flew back 'home' the very next day but I am sure I'll be mulling over my memories of this wedding for a long time.

Cousins have always been a very important part of my life and their love has stood by me whenever I needed help or support. I feel blessed to have you all in my life and I hope we can have many more such reasons to exchange hugs and reminisce.