Of cell phones...

These tiny things have become an extension of us – they are indispensable – the very quality of our lives depends on them.

For communication? Yes, of course…

For music? Increasingly so…

None of us can do without music…but not all of us can have music systems… and some of us cannot even have radios…but we can all have a cell phone. Today, cell phones come equipped with the FM, and a certain number of songs. Songs can also be downloaded. Never mind what kind of song, and certainly never mind the zamana of the song. Music is music, and music is needed for the heart to beat…

I go for my morning walk at 5.15. The strains of the Gayatri mantra, or bhajans fill the air. All the walkers are seriously and silently walking – so where is this music coming from? From the pocket of the man who is sweeping the road…the rickshaw man waiting for his cup of tea has his music on, some kind of dhoom-dhadaka music to wake up the gods…the people who wash the cars hum along with what is playing, the sound of music blending with the swishing of the water on the car…the card players on the lane near our home lustily sing ancient songs along with Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhonsle, Kishore Kumar and Mohammad Rafi…

Music for the soul…all our souls…

Serendipity...

This is such a lyrical word - there's sheer joy embedded in the word. The very purity of feeling that this word conjures is enough to brighten the darkest moment...the best thing is that this word is that it is linked to the unexpected, and so, it describes feelings arising from unexpected incidents that range from the very, very ordinary to the very, very elegant...

Think - we very skilfully knit a cocoon around our lives - everything sooner or later falls into a pattern, knit and purl. We wiggle down and are very comfortable in our cocoons...suddenly, the heart tells us to do something not usually done - light a candle on the dining table, get a bottle of wine for the last dinner of the month (that's the most difficult meal to plan, often!), go for a walk, have a coffee and sinful dessert in one of those once-in-a-way-splurge places, get togged up just for the fun of it...anything...don't plan...the sheer serendipity fills the heart with radiance...

Maybe we should allow for more serendipitous moments to happen?

A verse.....

....that should have been learnt long ago...

...........the thought & meaning in it should have been embedded in the consciousness too... long ago...

It would have spared a lot of questioning, searching, hurt...

'Zindagi tho apne dum par ji jathi hai

 Doosron ke kandhe par tho sirf janaza hi uththa karthey hain'

 ----------- Sardar Bhagat Singh

Randomly thinking...

Sometimes it amazes me how dignified, thoughtful, non-judgmental and even generous the less-and-terribly-less fortunate are in our country.

We'd gone for a wedding in Delhi. The lady I walk with in the mornings (I've mentioned her, Didi, in a previous blog), never asked a thing about it. I'd told her that one of our students, the daughter of a dear colleague was getting married and that we were going to attend it. When she joined me on my walk the day after we returned, she said not a word, nor asked a single question. In fact, I was wondering how I would tell her about it, because it is an experience that is so far-removed from what she even knows... if I'd downplayed the wedding, I'd not have been  fair to my friend, and if I'd told Didi, she might have felt small...I needn't have worried. Her dignity helped me keep mine.

Once again it was brought back to me that our less-than-fortunate brothers and sisters never question or covet the status/standing/wealth/position of those who are more fortunate than they. They quietly accept - it is their fate, they believe, their karma... Amazing is the fact that they do not begrudge those who are more fortunate, their good fortune either. In fact, if you look at some of the karamcharis in rich people's homes, they are so proud of the fact that their malik is a saheb, and works in a 'big company'.

No wonder, the stratification is as it has always been. The gulf remains despite modernization, digitalization, and whatever-ization. My mind instantly goes to Madame and Jacques Defarge and the time of the French Revolution...We have the liberty, but no equality, and I'm not too sure of the fraternity...We have democratic processes, but not the democratic spirit a corollary of which is that all people are treated with respect regardless of all differences

Astonishing too is how generous these people are. I remember when we were in Lovedale, the karamcharis all lived on the campus. How they shared with each other - good times, yes, but even in bad times, they all rallied around each other. They gave unhesitatingly out of their own nothingness...they stood by each other and shared all they had freely...that was a real eye-opener because I don't think we stood by each other as much...

Exceptions there are in everything, in every situation, and in every condition, but by and large this is true...

Musing on homes...

Our home in Muscat - on the 1st floor...




 
Maya Angelou said " I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself".

She also said "The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned".

It really is an ache to have your own home - may be your very own, or it may be rested; it may be a large home, or it may be a single room, an apartment, a shack, a tiny space - but if it is someplace you can rest your head, and call your own even if for a short time, that place is home. And, you will do it up - a spray of flowers in an old jam bottle, a stem of a money plant, a little bit of color here and there, a comfy cushion or two on a sitting arrangement, a cozy kitchen ...it builds up in your own way, it slowly reflects you, absorbs all your feelings, shares all your thoughts, and becomes your sanctuary in the world.

 If someone violates your home, or takes it away, or disregards it, or circumstances cause you to lose your home, the ache is piercing and nothing can either assuage that pain or lessen it...the pain stabs and drills into your heart, into the very core of your being...

For 9 long years, this was our home. Recently my daughter took her husband to see Muscat - naturally she took him to see the building where our apartment was - this picture she sent opened the floodgates of my memory and I could again see it as it was when we lived there - every little bit; even the smells came back to me...the feelings, the colors, how we had done it up, every little detail...

For, no matter who lives there now, for that little time in eternity, that place was home...

Of hospitality...

The image that comes to mind when we hear/use the word hospitality is that of an envelope - a wrap of warmth, coziness, comfort (not necessarily luxurious), a caring catering to what  you want to eat; a gentle enfolding environment - soft lights and soft music (or maybe if the mood is right for it, then strobe lights and loud rhythm and music).

When we go to a restaurant, this is what we expect and look forward to - especially if you've been working hard all week/day, and want to be pampered and coaxed into eating...If one went to Oh Calcutta or any of the other restaurants in that chain, or Zara's and any restaurant in that chain, this is what you will receive. You are spoilt and every drink and culinary wish is discussed and served with great courtesy. It is a graciousness that is extended to you. I remember asking for a whiskey sour at the Chowringhee bar at the Grand, and though it was not on the wine list, the bartender made an excellent one for me!

Yesterday, however, we had the misfortune of going to HOPS, a slounge bar. No one to receive you, cold, indifferent atmosphere and poor, ignorant service - both for food and drinks. The vegetable shashlik was only paneer served with a thick gravy. The same gravy was put on my roast chicken. As for the Arabic salad, it was a complete con - a mash of boiled brinjal and some unknown vegetables doused in Tabasco (thing is having been in Muscat for years, and loving Arabic salad, we knew that what we had been served was absolutely NOT Arabic salad). From the bar, they wanted to know if i wanted soda or juice in my martini, which they were planning to serve with crushed ice - I know I'm being rottenly snobbish, but that was a bit too anaadi even for me, and I am not terribly knowledgeable about liquor...). Anyway, all experience teaches you something...this one taught us to stick with our preferred restaurants!

The people who make the difference...

There are some people who make the world of difference to the quality of your life. Three such make my world happy and comfy...

Aapon - the friendly neighborhood store where you get everything under the sun - home delivered...

The veggie guy -  happy as happy can be. He'll sell you what you want, and what he thinks you need to eat. He'll tell you where the vegetables are from, and even share recipes with you!

Kaku - what would I do without him. I cannot even imagine. So lovingly, caringly, and without fail, he brings me my lunch every day, so I can work uninterrupted. I've never fallen ill one single day eating the food he brings from Ayojan, the organization which supplies simple, everyday-home-fare, hygienically cooked.