Dealing With Grief

The recent news about the suicide of a Bollywood actor, Sushant Singh Rajput, has reopened fresh discussions about depression, mental health and various other issues. I have a policy of not commenting on anything and everything out there on social media. But this is one issue, I think, I need to record it here. It is extremely difficult for me to talk about this. But it needs to be done.

I moved to study in Australia in Jun 2018. I planned for this to happen in Mar 2017. As I was researching about universities, booking for my English tests, in Jul 2017, my dad was diagnosed with Cancer. There were no symptoms. He was a teetotaller, vegetarian, cooked his own food, maintained himself well- through an organic diet, Yoga and exercise!  It was beyond treatment. All we could do was, wait for the inevitable, which happened on 3rd Nov 2017. One day before it happened, I got my offer letter from my University and it was the last thing I spoke to my dad about. In less than 6 months of his passing away, I had quit a well-paying government job, moved to a new country, started my Masters degree, searching for a part-time job, meeting new people, networking and everything that goes with it. And I had to do it all, while dealing with something as terrible as- Grief!

I did not have the time to sit and cry in peace. I had not mourned my dad. All I wanted to do was- fuel every single bit of energy I had into a dream I had held, since I was 13! By Mar 2019- after a particularly difficult few months of my life, dealing with job loss, being on the verge of homelessness, meeting some not-so-nice people- I snapped. I couldn't do anything. Grief is not something which everyone can relate to- let alone empathise with. And it is not fair to expect everyone to understand as well.

I had left everything and come here for a purpose. And I needed to get back on track. Fortunately, my University offered free counselling services for the students. I booked my first appointment in Mar 2019 and I have been regularly visiting the professionals since then. I cannot stress how much it helps. As I await the results of my degree, I have looked back and found that I have completed 2 internships, a study abroad (in Germany), leadership position within the university (and an award for recognising the leadership skills) and many more experiences! I do not know what the future holds for me, especially with the challenges of a pandemic ahead- but I am happy, optimistic and hopeful.

Everyone understands about the importance of mental health. But what we need now is empathy. Often times, especially back home in India, it is a taboo to even visit a mental health counsellor. There are a million questions raised. It is this fear of judgement which stops most people from visiting mental health professionals. Pause. Even if one is unsure about whether you need it or not- I would still suggest to take an appointment to visit a mental health professional. If not for anything- it is definitely a good place to just talk. If not treatment, you still come out of it with a perspective!

Searching For Relevance

I have strived to be 'relevant' my whole life!

This realisation hit me recently when I was adding books to my Goodreads "Read" list. I came across a vlog/ blog where this person had suggested that having a 'Goodreads' list is a great motivator to read more. I had a Goodreads account already which I primarily use to read reviews of the books I want to read. I thought their suggestion made sense. I started recollecting the books I've read through my life so far and added them to Goodreads. Suddenly, I realised that I have way too many classics on my list!

It was never deliberate. My mom introduced me to them. I remember the first time I ever read them. In fact, I have written about this multiple times in the past. The first book I read in my life was this English translation of "The Count of Monte Christo" by Alexander Dumas which I found on one of my uncles' bookshelf. The more books my mom got me, the more I fell in love with them. Eventually, all the kids in my class would discuss Nancy Drew and 'Sidney Sheldon'- while all I knew was Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters!

I then realised that I must start reading books that can help me have a decent conversation with kids my age. I started reading Enid Blyton, Harry Potter books (which I fell in love with)- and kept reading more relevant books. I did find a few good book-loving friends through my undergrad days. Some of them were familiar with the works of one of my favourite author Alister MacLean even!

If I ever manage to write an autobiography, I think I would have "Chapters" or "Phases" in it named after authors. After my classics phase, I had an 'Ayn Rand' phase. Then a 'Sylvia Plath' phase which thankfully got transformed and I entered into the 'Paulo Coelho' phase and so on…

Mythologies to pseudo-mythologies. Sci-Fi and Fantasies. I kept reading and strived hard to stay relevant.

These days, I just read. I have stopped trying to be relevant. I like reading. And I like reading the books I like reading. I have realised that- relevance, doesn't matter…

Appa's Treasures

My dad told me a lot of stories. Stories from the mythologies, supernatural thrillers from his ancestral home, story of his life and many more. He was a great storyteller. And one of his stories was about the ‘Sunday Markets of Pondicherry’. It was a ‘love story’ from the late 70s or early 80s- a love story between my dad and his Jawa motorbike. The stories would usually begin on a lazy Sunday morning and my dad waking up to a freshly brewed cup of coffee and to the sound of the newspaper boy’s bicycle. ‘Care-free bachelor days’ he would often say as my mother rolled her eyes! He would get ready and take out his ‘Jawa’ and ride into the city, searching for motorcycle parts to customise his bike.

The Sunday Markets of Pondicherry, he would say, was a treasure chest. You can never imagine what you might get. You could probably find about anything there. This one day, he came across a Vinyl collection of Elvis Presley or a Carnatic musician of great renown! And the story would then be about the purest sound of music which comes from the vinyl. From autographed books to Burmese wooden cabinets- the Sunday Markets of Pondicherry were the answer to everything. Of course, he customised his Jawa too!

My dad’s adventures always made me wonder if I would ever have such adventures. I travelled within India, quite extensively, to see if I could find such treasures. I sure found souvenirs, but no treasures. I grew older and grew tired of looking for treasures.

I moved to Australia. I began volunteering as a shop assistant in a charity op shop. From clothes to books, games to music CDs- it was a shop full of life! A ‘Cup of tea’ rituals in the afternoons, were full of stories of a city that used to be. Regulars who visited for new souvenirs of the ‘Royals’, mums who wanted dresses for their daughters for a play. There were old cameras. I always wondered what kind of pictures they had taken during their life! How many arrested moments of time it had held! Handcrafted jewellery boxes, crystal earrings and rings- who had they been gifted to?!

I eventually ended up in the books section of the shop. Reminded me of George Orwell’s essay, “Bookshop Memories”. I would price them. Sometimes, I would just flip through a book and end up reading a few lines. I learnt about ‘bush poetry’, Banjo Paterson and Henry Lawson.

One day, I came across a book. It was a book from one of my dad’s market stories. One of his treasures. It was a book, my dad often claimed, that changed his life. It was a book titled… Well, it didn’t matter! I held it in my hand- this withered little book. It had been a gift to someone. It had a few scribbles. But I held it in my hand, and I could hear my father breathe.

My treasure rests on my bookshelf!

THE UNFINISHED POST

I sat in my room, thinking about what could be the worst thing that could happen if I don't continue to blog. The answer was- Nothing. The world would just move on with one less "blogger". Blogger? I think I can call myself one. Been doing this since 2006 after all! But the essence of this blog has changed over the years. So have I, I suppose. For instance, let's take this picture of a flower I clicked a couple of days ago.

Had it been the older me, I would have penned down a poetry on those flowers. Or about my coming across those flowers. Or about how the leaves are left unnoticed because of the flowers. But now, the most thought I had about this image was- whether I should get an Instagram account or not! No, I didn't get an Insta account, if you're wondering about that. Not yet, anyway. Had I thought this way back then, my older self would've hated it! I guess I'm more open to the mundane now. I consider this a great progress. 

The older self would have never approved of this random rambling. There was a need to have a definite thought process and an urge to end it well. The older me, wanted the thought to end. I guess I have become more casual these days. I have thoughts. I don't feel the necessity for them to end. They get archived somewhere and recur when something related to that happens again. 

This picture happened 2 months back. I had a thought on how I should never go on elephant safaris again. And today, I had just the same thought and imagined this picture without the people on top of the elephant. Perhaps, I would think more on the same topic in future. 

Even as I wrote that sentence, "I should never go"- I begin to think that the present- day me, does not believe much in such type of declarations. There are always possibilities of strangeness happening. I am open to that now. 

I think we all reach that point in time in our lives when we begin to perceive ourselves differently. This is a great exercise in self-realisation. I can see myself to be more open to change- both in myself and in others around me. This is a huge achievement for me. 

I would have never left a post unfinished before...

I'm a little scared of butterflies these days!

On that thought, let me try leaving this post "unfinished"...

PACHAKADAL

“Odisha”! “We are doing it”!

“Yes. Done”!

“No .. Seriously...”

“Ya! Of course”!

How DID we end up with this plan?! It’s still not very clear. I had always wanted to visit Konark. I guess my love for the place began after watching  the Malayalam movie “Neelakasham Pachakadal Chevvanabhoomi” (NPCB). But this was happening. This was September 2016.

So we had booked the flight tickets. But the package was not confirmed yet. We had been in touch with OTDC- Odisha Tourism Development Corporation. As soon as we received the mail from them- confirming the itinerary- it became real! We were going to Odisha!

Our first stop was Bhubaneshwar. But actually it was this very short stop. We had our lunch at “Panthanivas, Bhubaneshwar” and we were off to Dhauli.

 By the way- food at Panthanivas, Bhubaneshwar was awesome. After visiting the “Shanti Stupa” at Dhauligiri, we saw the Ashokan rock edicts. Though it was dark (the driver was almost in tears each time we weren’t on time!) the caretaker was kind enough to open the place especially for us and show us around. We were pretty tired and wished we had reached the place sooner.  But to think that the Kalinga war actually happened on that very ground where we stood- kind of felt surreal. My paatti (grandmother) had told me a story about her elder sister who had once wandered into this jungle when they were young. Turned out the jungle used to be this place where the conquerors executed their enemies. The story went on about the “tantric” rites to revive her elder sister from her “state of trance”! Fact or fiction! I have no idea! With my paatti- it was always this way. All her stories spun around the plausible. The people were real. Themes were usually “Tantric”- “Chozhi”, “maandreegam”, “bhagavati”- poojas . The way she said them- everything in “first person”. What can I say! They are real to me!

We drove through the Peepili markets. Colours everywhere! En route Puri- I had wanted to visit this temple called “Sakshi Gopal” temple. The story of Sakshi Gopal was the second story I had read in my life- in Amar Chitra Katha- all by myself! The story goes something like this- A poor young man is in love with a village chief’s daughter. But the father of the girl refuses to accept his offer of marriage. All the villagers travel to the “Rath yathra”. On their way back, the village chief falls ill. All the villagers leave him behind. But the poor young man- stays and helps the village chief. Pleased with this, the chief promises that once they return, he will get his daughter married to the young man. But once they are back in the village, the chief goes back on his words. When the young man insists, the chief asks him to produce a witness to the promise he supposedly made. When the young man says- “Only Jagannath is my witness”- the chief mocks him and asks him to produce “Jagannath” as witness. The young man prays to the Lord and the Lord consents to appear as his witness. But He says- throughout the journey, as the Lord would follow the young man- he mustn’t turn back to look. Halfway through the journey- when the Lord is walking on grass- the young man doesn’t hear Jagannath’s footsteps. So he turns back. And the Lord becomes a statue there. He runs to the village and tells them about this incident. The villagers see the statue and accept the young man’s version of the story. Jagannath becomes “Sakshi (witness) Gopal” ! Chief realises his mistake and marries off his daughter to the young man.

It was almost 8 pm and the driver said that the temple usually closes around 5 pm and the detour was 2 kms into the town and the traffic could be unpredictable. So we couldn’t visit. We reached Panthanivas, Puri that night.

We started at 7 am from Puri to Chilika Lake. Nothing like “Roshogolla” in the morning. There were hardly any big buildings in sight. “Quaint”- couldn’t think of any other word to describe the place. Not just Puri or Dhauli. But Odisha was “quaint”! It grows on you- the people, the places! We happened to pass by this Government Law College somewhere along the way. I was truly stricken by the state of the college. Felt almost guilty even! We here in Tamil Nadu- are building colleges after colleges every few miles down the road. Every one of them spread over several acres of land. The sheer display of wealth! And here- even the Government colleges were in such dire state- in need of immediate renovation! Economic disparity between different regions in India- ceased to be a “theoretical” concept to me.

Through the 1.5 hours boat ride- I could only say it was “Dolphin chasing”. I had read about the “revival of the Chilika Lake” and the Irrawaddy Dolphins in the Lake. But seeing the dolphins was something else. It was pure joy watching them swim. But after a while, we felt like intruders in their home. We drove off to the sea mouth. Just us, the beach, the sand, the sky! Nothing else! Not another soul in sight! This was India minus the crowd. It was probably the best hour we have spent ever on a beach.

We returned to Puri and got ready to visit the famous Jagannath Temple. We took a “toto” (kind of like a battery auto) and got off quite far from the temple so that we could enjoy the streets of Puri on foot. We had arranged for a “Panda” (A pandit) to act as our guide. We thought it would take say half hour to finish our dharshan. But thanks to our wonderful guide- it took us two hours and it was worth every second! The panda explained that every 19- 20 years the main deities of the temple- Jagannath, Subhadra and Balram are put to rest and new idols replace them. This symbolises that even Gods “die” in the mortal world. After performing certain rites, appropriate trees with certain markings (like “chakra”- for Jagannath, “yoni” for Subhadra, etc) are selected and new idols are made. The “soul” of the “Gods” are transferred from the old to the new idols. I had never heard of something like this before! Every day- 56 course meal is prepared for the deity in Puri. The Panda explained that the belief was that the Lord visited Puri- to eat- just like he visited Rameshwaram to bathe, Dwaraka to sleep and Badrinath to meditate. Everyday- the flag on top of the shrine is changed by two pandas. There are no safety features and two people just climb up the shrine and change the flag! This was India- with all her myths and colours! I am a rational being and not religious. But I love the stories of beliefs people have. Having spent a major part of my life in Srirangam- I have not found any other place in India so far that treats the Lord as a real being. People here in Srirangam feel that Ranganatha is a being- say things like “He looked so handsome today”! I can say that Puri managed to come second! Stuffed with all the street food from Puri, we returned back to Panthanivas.

The next morning, we started off early. The roads were just beautiful! The driver was absolutely brilliant and very patient with us. Our car stopped and we were off to a beach.

Time had stopped! The green sea was here. Her beauty flowed into the horizon. The sky gained a tint of her green. The sun was trying to mix his own colours to her waters. But she was too strong even for the sun! She stayed green! This was the place, this memory- that would stay with me for all my life. This was the Chandrabhaga beach!

Konark was here.

This was the India from the time she was more inclusive. The country that gave a place to eroticism on the walls of her shrines! What beauty! What precision! Who had thought the statues could one day tell these stories for all to hear. Those walls had withstood years of tyranny, whispering their secrets.

Then there was the Lingaraja temple and Mukteshwar. It was little clusters of temples. Then there was Raja Rani temple. Most of them were very similar to the Jagannath temple. But each had its own flavour and beauty.

We were off to Nandankanan zoo that afternoon visiting the white tigers. It was a long day. And that night, we reached Barkul.

We were once again on the Chilika Lake, the next day, and off to the Nalabana Bird sanctuary. Though no one is allowed inside the sanctuary, we had hoped to catch sight of some of the birds at least from a distance. But it was a beautiful, misty day and the boat man informed us that the birds usually came out on a sunnier day. We did see a group of beautiful Flamingos, Brahminny kite, sea gulls, and few other birds.

The boatman was full of stories. He said there were twenty one islands in the Chilika Lake and all the islands had one MLA. Until a few years ago- the islands had kings who handled the affairs. All the issues were resolved by the kings.

 Only when the king was unable to sort an issue- the villagers went to the police! Still, the son of the old king of the island was well respected member of the community. The boatman said that, of the twenty one islands, 11 of them had people staying in them. Ten of the islands were used for other activities like farming, etc. In one of those ten islands was the bird sanctuary. Then there was Kalijai temple in another. The story of the Kalijai temple was this. Mainlanders never married their daughters to the boys from the islands. But after must persistence, one such marriage was fixed between a main land girl and an island boy. But on the day of the marriage, there was a storm and the boat in which the bride was arriving to the island crashed. The marriage never takes place. The bride is lost in the lake. After a few days, a couple of fishermen hear sounds of a girl crying from one of the islands and inform their king about it. The island is searched but found deserted. The king gets a dream, in which the “lost bride”- named Jai, appears before the king and asks for a temple to be built for her. The king obliges and adds Kali to the girl’s name and she becomes the Kalijai deity who guards all the fishermen. It is believed that, after her temple is built, not a single accident has taken place on the lake. There was an occasion when an enemy clan declares war on the King. Though the king doesn’t have the numbers, Kalijai appears in his dream and instructs him to prepare for the battle and he prepares to fight. On the day of the “war”, the enemy clan see and find many soldiers, all wearing white and around 5 feet tall- and standing around the island, protecting the king’s land. The enemy clan retreat. In fact, it were not soldiers but flamingos who suddenly appear that morning and flock surrounding the king’s island. Since that incident- the flamingos are called the “King’s soldiers”!

What are holidays without such folk tales!

The Kalijai temple was preparing for a “mela”. The boatman asked us to buy “mixture packets”. Not sure of what we were doing, we bought them any way. Then he asked us to throw the “mixture” into the lake. We did. Suddenly, these sea gulls stated following our boat. It was so funny. But I felt a little sorry for those sea gulls too! All for those bits of mixture! Had we known- we could have bought a whole bunch more! I couldn’t explain what we felt. Funny, with a tinge of pity, perhaps!

That afternoon, we arrived at Gopalpur on sea! The Panthanivas at Gopalpur was fantastic! If you ever feel that you need a holiday- just plain simple holiday- this is where you must go! Beach. Just Beach. Nothing else! And what a beach!

The next day, we visited a hill station called Taptapani. There was not much to see or do in Taptapani. But I did have my first bonfire experience thanks to the Panthanivas people who had organised it. The bonfire came at the most welcome moment for we were almost freezing! The next morning, we visited a Tibetan village nearby and a Buddhist monastery there at Jirang. The place was beautiful and serene.

We had to rush back to Bhubaneshwar for our return tickets did not get confirmed. After spending a few hectic hours on trying to work out some kind of “Jugaad”- we settled down and ended up booking flight tickets! That evening, we visited the Udhayagiri caves and went shopping. Back in Chennai next evening, I couldn’t help but say this- people were a little more considerate in Odisha than our Chennai. Then again- this was home! Still- I would suggest Odisha to anyone who wishes to have a great holiday but are on a budget!

 Odisha will always remain as one of my most favourite places for these reasons- the food, the people but most of all- the beaches... The emerald sea- or the Pachakadal! 

MAJHE MARATHI

It usually begins with the packed bags.

Butterflies were waking up in my tummy as the bats screeched through the night sky. Neon lights flashed the coach number. Pretty pink!

The first stop was to be Chennai. Taxi ride to the Chennai Airport was a noisy blur. Music has always been a touchy subject for me. I needed very specific music, tuned to perfection to my moods. My playlist was full of oddities. Adelle to Anoushka Shankar. FM in Chennai was filled with- well- noise! I hate to say this. But I refrain from criticising music. Whatever form of music may that be. Everyone had the right to listen to whatever they wanted to hear. But I felt that, over the years- music has become more about being a “hit” rather than being about “music” itself. May be I am getting old... But it has been a long time since I have heard a song that has managed to “stay” with me in these recent years...

So- it happened like this. Appa wanted coffee. And I thought it would be funny to take him to Cafe Coffee Day at Chennai Airport. All those old stories about how his salary had been Rs 400/- in the 60s flashed in front of me when the person at the CCD counter said that one coffee would cost Rs 167/-. Well- it was going to be a great trip! I knew that- as we sat drinking coffee from the “Sangeethas”- Rs 40/- per cup.

I need another trip to Mumbai. This one was too short. So much has been said about the city. It had to be magical! “The City of dreams”- they call it in the movies. Unfortunately- there was not enough time! Some day- I dreamt- as we sped through the city- I would live in this city. I would go on a horse carriage ride in the night through the streets of Mumbai. I would walk to Haji Ali and feel the ocean breeze. Pigeons flapping their wings and flying up near the Gateway of India would become music. Pani puri at Chowpatty... now that dream- was no longer a dream! It came true!

After Pani Puri, Barf ka Gola (Kaala Katta- Of course!) and Pav Bhaji- at Chowpatty- we still had dinner at this Hotel “Exotica” in Thane. An aesthetically pleasing place indeed. And they had this person singing your favourite songs as you had your dinner. I personally would have preferred that the music came from some device rather than a person singing live! A musician deserves your full attention when he performs. This is one of the reasons why I don’t like the music concerts they have at weddings. A CD with instrumental music would be perfectly fine.

In future, when someone asks me- “What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when I say ‘Pune’?”- I would reply- “Mawa cake from Kayani Bakery”.  No cream. No fancy stuff. But that freshly baked- feel good- smelling as though it had soaked in some desi ghee- not to forget the smiling old man who handed over the packet- it was all – I guess- part of the process of making it- well- the Best Mawa cake ever!

When I look back- Pune had always been more about food than about the places I visited! Not to forget the home-made delicacies by my Chithi! Bakri, Chilly bhaji, Methi bhaji and what-nots! But there were also these Chikkis from Lonavla and yes- hotel Ozara. The story behind the Hotel Ozara is silly and simple. My friend had suggested I eat there. She had sent me these sufficiently motivating pictures of plates full of varieties of dishes. After we finished our sight-seeing at Lonavla- I turned on the GPS and it said that the hotel was about 5 kms away. We kept travelling for what must be around 18-20 kms and still the hotel was nowhere to be seen. Fortunately the driver was more patient than my mother who grew rather irritated with me as I kept saying 300 mts right... 600 mts straight... so on. When we finally reached the hotel- we were way past their lunch time and were almost the only people there. Still- they welcomed us in and served us! More than their food- it was their hospitality which left me impressed.

Darshan Museum, Pune. I am not a religious person and have little patience with “God-men”. My cousin who was acting as our guide around Pune too had never visited the museum before. So when the guard outside the museum said it was going to be a movie- for almost two hours about the life the mystic Swami Vaswani- I had half- the mind to leave and go visit Aga Khan Palace instead. But then we found that museum and movie was both to be seen together- we got curious and decided to stay for thirty minutes. We ended up staying there for two hours instead. Not the spiritual stuff. But the concept of the museum was very new to us! It was as though- we were watching the events in the Swami’s life happening in front of us! Holographic screens, interactive audio- visuals! A wonderful experience, indeed!

Temples somehow end up on our list of places to visit every time we take a family trip. This trip was no different. We visited Triambakeshwar and Grishneshwar temples. There were of course Sidhi Vinayak temple at Mumbai, Pune etc. Strange. When we hear about Grishneshwar temple being one of the Jyotir Linga temples- or about Kashi and the mysticism around it- there is a natural urge to experience these places. But when we actually end up visiting these temples, there is very little spirituality in them.

Ellora caves. It had been a dream. Walls that whisper the stories of the past... They say that it was all built by humans... I didn't believe it! My granny would say- "..A Gandharva came down and used a celestial Astra. A huge temple appeared full of statues and paintings this Earth had never seen before..."- Well- now that is more believable, isn't it!?

Up there- in the ceiling of the Kailasa temple- there is a sculpture of Shiva teaching Parvati to dance. He is shown- about to pull her ear for some mistake she made!

Though broken- there is a sculpture depicting a game played by Shiva and Parvati after they are married. The guide explained that Parvati had won- since the “Bhoota Ganas” belonging to Parvati’s side of the family have won something resembling a coconut (the sculpture was not very clear) and they are shown to be teasing Nandhi (the groom’s side of family). 

Barely clad nymphs were depicted dancing. There were sixteen pillars and each of them had a unique design made on them! The whole temple was made as a chariot drawn by elephants. 

A wall depicting the entire Ramayana story. 

The other side was called the Mahabharata side of the temple. Various incarnations of Shiva and Vishnu depicted all around. Packed with tourists- there was nothing religious about the whole place. Still- the place felt far more spiritual than all the temples we visited!

Pune- Okayama Friendship garden. I hope I settle down in Pune- just to be able to walk around that place every day of my life!

 Every travel you make- you learn something about the place and people, a cliché, nevertheless a true one. But travels also make you more humble, insightful. It gives a fulfilling experience. 

A trip cannot be summed up and confined by words. As you close your eyes- you feel the green trees and fields flash across your mind. 

The sunflowers looking up the sun, the gold fishes on those streams, the bridges, the fountains, pristine landscapes, tall trees, a sudden wilderness and flowers peeping through them! 

  They become yours and yours alone...