| Rama's profileRama's SpacePhotosBlogLists |  Tools  Help |
|
November 24 The greatest gift I ever had, Came from God ; I call him Dad !  This is about my father, who is around 89 years old, quite healthy for his age. He is used to travelling by buses and trains to different places. Despite being reasonably well off, he can't bring himself to spend even a penny unnecessarily on himself. He would always avoid travelling in comfort , for that means he would have to shell some thing extra from his hard earned money. However if somebody was in need of money he would be the first one to help, without even questioning, the authencity of such a request : thus leading himself to be trapped by unscruplous people who are out there to dupe him with their act of sincerity. When anybody points this out to him, he would shrug it away saying, probably he owed that person something from his previous birth, that is why that person has come to collect his dues. He would always dress as if he has no good dress to wear. He doesn't have to dress like that, but as they say if one has to count every penny spent, from a very young age, it kind of gets stuck with you, for even when you have enough your mind always questions you and makes you feel guilty. He would not even spend once in a while on some tasty food at the resturaunt, even if he is hungry, he would rather come home and eat. In short he is the kind of person who would not spend on himself, but would readily spend on some dud project, which is doomed right from the beginning.
He would readily give loan to people who have no intention of giving it back to him. We are amazed that there are always people who are waiting in line to dupe him all the time. It is not that he is not aware of the losses he has incurred upon himself, but he tends to have great faith in the goodness of human beings. He is hopelessly optimistic. In his entire life I have rarely seen him ever get back the money he lend to someone. And in all his various housing or investment projects he has always ended up as a person unjustly cheated.
Now, recently, he was a victim of a pick pocketer. He was returning back from his home town, ( he is still renovating his mother's ancestral house), trying to get the contractor finish some remaining work, but as usual the contractor is busy with other important work and has no time to finish my father's work. He has been paid his money, and so he will finish it only if he can spare some time from his other jobs. My father would go every month spend 10 days only to be disappointed, and dejected. At his age so much tension and roaming around here and there to get things done is definitely not doing him any good. If he is still alive and going about his work, one can only say it is through sheer will power, and determination.
So, this incident happened while he arrived at Madras central station, and was on his way to cross to other side of the station, when somebody cut his very shabby looking hand bag and went off with the wallet in which he had kept Rs. 3, 000, and his original driving license, along with some insurance papers etc. Though why he should be carrying all sorts of unnecesary things, only God knows, but everything went off with the money.
He neither looks rich, nor looks the the type to carry so much money with him, and he is so old and frail looking man, how can one have the heart to steal from him. But whatever may be the reason, the man sure had luck in his hands. My father must have realised it later when he opened his bag for something. Just imagine how shocked he must have been when he realised what had happened. Luckily he had Rs 50 in his shirt pocket, with which he could catch a bus and come home.
Suppose he was with no money at all how do you think he would come home?
One can say he can always hire an auto, come home and pay him. But knowing his attitude towards spending can you imagine him ever spending whatever the auto felllow charges ( the auto fellows would always quote their own price, for these fellows are real cheats who never go by the meter). He would have definitely got into an arguement with that fellow, called the police etc. he would have stood there and fought for justice in this unjust world. I think seeing him so tired after the tiresome journey, God himself must have had pity on him to have left him with enough money to somehow reach home.
I heard this piece of information when I just casually called up Madras to have a word with my father, ( he would only do all the talking, for he is deaf). This news really upset me, I felt so annoyed with this world, why why why ?
Couldn't they find some one else to loot?
Hasn't he had enough, why is Universe treating him so harshly in every step of his life?
Is it because he is such a simpleton, that Universe can't have enough of finding ways and means to make a fool of him, mocking and torturing him endlessly? Hasn't he lost enough all his life?
Is he not entitled to lead a normal life without any unpleasant surprises confronting him?
Sometimes I feel this world is not the right place for good people like my father. It is not so much about the money, or the things he has lost, I don't know what , but I feel very strongly that my father deserves the best, but the best is still to come..
But I am sure he must have come up with an explanation for this incident too, and would continue in his journey called "Life", facing all obstacles with a big smile. He must have forgotten and even forgiven the person who committed this crime.
This is my Father, and I love him very much. He will ever remain a source of inspiration to me. November 08 Time, Time ............. I have all time, but no time to kill !   It has been a while since I last wrote something, well here it comes : I write again!People are very curious to know how I kill "TIME". They keep asking me whether I kill time watching all the TV serials on offer on Tata sky, probably imagining I am serial time killer. And there are others who can't understand how I am not bored with all the time in this world, and there still others, who volunteer to give me unsolicited advice as to how use my time productively. Strangely, I am not a TV addict as some would presume, for despite having so many channels begging to be watched, I rarely see anything that captures my attention, maybe 1 or 2 in a day. The earth would not come tumbling down if I happened to miss them. As far as boredom with time is concerned , I am never bored with time or my life. I am just tickled pink thinking of those people, who are worried / jealous about how I spend my time : It is so hilariously entertaining that it banishes and kills all boredom in my life forever. Now, for the people who come with all kinds of ideas and advice to use my time productively, I have only one question : "did I ask you ?. instead why don't you use your time more effectively than breaking your head ( Matha Fodying) of my usage of my time ?" The obsession of making use of time in a more productive way makes one more obsessed to be more productive, and more and more and more " productive", leaving one no time to realise, that one is getting sucked into a whirlpool from which there is no escape. I believe such people should pause to think ( and stop to smell the roses too) and see where they are blindly heading, lest they drown in their own productive whirlpool. Well, for me Time has always been a friend, a guide, a mentor, a father all rolled into one. He has been there always, is always there and would always be there for me. He is my constant companion, hand in hand we have travelled together, in good times and in bad, never leaving each other's side even for a second : our bond is strong. I don't need to fight time, race with it, or race against it or outwit it, or even kill it. I feel so blessed to have time constantly with me, nurturing me, healing me, encouraging me and inspiring me. Thank you dear time, for I cherish every minute of our togetherness in this great and wonderful journey called Life. Rama (The Timeless) Ananth. June 20 Talking about My Dad.
Quote My Dad. May 09 My MotherToday once again I remember my mother. Not , a day passes when I don't remember my mother. I keep thinking of all the good times we shared, and I cant't control the flow of tears. I wish I had been there more for her when she really needed me.
Why do we sometimes become too engrossed in our lives and fail to think that we have a mother who is always thinking of us all the time, praying for us, and is waiting for our call?
Mothers are really loving people who would do anything for their children. Well I was blessed by the most loving , most jovial, and the most emotional mother.
She is no more, only her thoughts are there to keep me company.
I am sure where ever she is now she is a happy person. On my part being a Reiki Channel, all I can do is to keep sending her the loving, healing energies of Reiki everyday.
I am glad that I was born to such wonderful person ---- My Mother. August 27 Chapel Of Bones - Capela dos Ossos- Evora, Portugal In many bone chapels, or catacombs, the bones are just strewn arounnd, hardly serving any purpose. However at the Capela dos Ossos, the purpose of the bones is carved into the entry way, "Nos ossos que aqui estamos pelos vossos esperamos", meaning "Our bones that are here awaits yours!". Seems so scary yet so profound, the meaning : literally dripping from the bones. The 16th century monks who built the Chapel of Bones wanted visiters to contemplate the rather transient nature of life, and they used a rather macabre sense of humour in bringing the point home.
This Chapel is inside the Igreja de Sao Francisco in Evora Portugal. The walls and the central piers are lined with human skulls and bones bedded in cement. Inside the dimly lit chapel, it takes a moment to realise that the interior walls amd pillars supporting the arched ceiling are composed entirely of neatly stacked leg bones, arm bones and skulls. Once the shock of this realisation subsides, we begin to appriciate the almost comical sights of hundreds of skulls lined up jaw to cranium, to make borders around the sections of vaulted ceiling.
A statue of Jesus and an ornate gilded altar are overshadowed by the Chapel's most gruesome decoration: two desiccated corpses hanging bizarrely on a side wall. They are the bodies of a man and a small child which are several centuries old, but there are still skin and shreds of clothing clinging to their pathetic frames. The story goes, that the man was a wife abuser and his little son was just as disrespectful to his mother. The man finally beat his wife to death, but before she succumbed, she put a curse on her husband and her child. She declared that they would soon follow her in death, but, since they were so evil, even Hell would not accept them. As predicted, the evil pair died. When they were to be buried, the ground mysteriously turned hard as rock, and their graves could not be dug. So, the monks took their bodies and put them on permanent display in the Chapel, as warning to other wife abusers and bad children. The legends shows the Franciscan monks to have been feminists way ahead of their time. In recognition of this, local women engaged to be married cut off their hair and place the braids at the Chapel entrance, making a symbolic sacrifice of their girlhood in suppplication of a happy marriage. This custom continues today, with several fresh braids on display.
Now all this may just be rumours, for the truth is far less romantic; They were denizens of local cemetries facing eviction. Eveora went through a building boom in the late 1400s. Noblemen from Lisbon, less than 100 miles away, found that the area was good for hunting. They invited their friends to vaccation in their hunting lodges, and before long all the glitterati from the capital were buying up huge tracts of land, on which they built, large country estates. The local monks worried about the rampant construction encroaching on the area's burial grounds. They dug up the remains as a protective measure, and decided they would not only keep the bones safe within the church, but use them to glorify God as well. And so the chapel was built, as a place of meditation and prayer for the Franciscans. This Chapel is indeed a chilling display of imagination that no words can describe.
Just opposite the evil man the evil child you would find a poem which reads:
Where are you going in such a hurry traveller?
So little do you reflect on death:
If by chance you glance at this place,
Stop..... for the sake of your journey,
The more you pause, the further on your journey you will be. May 17 Seville, Spain. Flamenco in general, consists of three artistic elements: the singing ( cante), the dancing (bailla), and the guitar ( guitarra). One cannot leave Seville without seeing a flamenco show. Though there are many interesting places to see in Seville, it is the flamenco show that is fascinating.
Although mass media has brought Flamenco to the world stage, at its heart it has always been and will always be an intimate form of music. To hear authentic flamenco, I heard you have to be with a small group of friends, at midnight , somewhere in the south of Spain, where there is nothing around but the voice, the guitar and the body of the dancer moving in the moonlight : sounds pretty romantic, well that is Spain for you.
Now I would like to mention about the special flamenco shoes. Women have to wear a well- reinforced pump with a strong two inch heel and a strap across the ankle, with small nails driven into the heel and the tip of the toe to make smooth metal surface. For men it is almost the same except , that it has to be in ankle boot form.
It is interesting to note that , the flamenco dance actually finds its origins right here in India. For it was the gypsies who arrived from India around 1425, and they brought with them many songs and dance styles that had strong Indian connections ( especially from the north of India, the Punjab region). At this time the Andalucia, was still under the Arab rule, and along with the jews, the moors, the gypsies were soon to be persecuted by the Catholic monarchs and the inquisition. Everyone was forced to convert to Christianity, and those who refused, were expelled from Spain. The gypsies were subjected to some of the worst atrocities in an attempt to exterminate them as a race. Many laws were passed by various monarchs, which forbid them to do anything with their identity.
They were to stop wearing their style of dresses, stop speaking their language, and stop their wandering and seek steady employment. These laws forced bands of gypsies, moors and jews to take refuge in the treacherous mountains, which were too desolate for the authorities to pursue them.
These people of different cultures lived in relative harmony for many years, and the fusion of their music and dances is what we know today as flamenco.
In the 18th century attitude towards the gypsies changed considerably, which resulted in numerous bands of gypsies descending on the small villages and towns, bringing with them, their exciting seductive music- flamenco. Their mysterious music and stimulating dances were soon to catch the attention of the romantic writers of the 18th and 19th centuries. Stories abound of these strange people performing their wild erotic dances and the harsh unusual tones of their songs.
Soon flamenco clubs called Cafe Cantantes began to spring up in most of the cities, and the most famous was the Cafe Silverio's in Seville, which was the idea of the flamenco singer, Silverio Franconetti.
The cafe cantante period, 1850- 1910, was known as the "Golden Age", but this was also a period of decline of what was originally known as the flamenco art. Many gypsy singers refused to perform in these establishments, forcing a wave of non -gypsy to take to the stage to perform a lighter and milder form of flamenco, the Fandangos, which were Andalucian folk songs.
It is said that the gypsies were very independent bent of mind, and flamenco being very spontaneous, the gypsies simply refused to perform at a set time,and even worse be told what styles they were to sing.
These flamenco cafe became cabaret style clubs, and the original gypsy flamenco suffered as a result. These singers and dancers were no longer in demand, and they were faced with the option of diluting the art and joining the hoards of fandango style singers, or return to their villages to continue their art virtually unnoticed by the outside world.
Many things changed and flamenco kept evolving through ages, going back to its original gypsy influence.
There is an area of land known as the "Holy Trinity" or golden triangle of flamenco, which is thought to be the area where all the major styles of cante jondo ( original flamenco) originated. The points of this triangle are Cadiz, Jerez de la Frontera, and Triana in Seville, and it is believed that this area of land is where the flamenco song began. It is in these areas in Seville, that one can find, that they still hold on dearly to their age old flamenco tradition.
While the fusion boom was going on, there were certain artists like Fosforito and Jose Menes, who refused to commercialise their art, and thankfully cante jondos is even more popular today, and the flamenco festivals that are held all over Andalucia is proof of this. If you have ever listened to a twangy, tinny sounding old guitar, accompanying a gravel, almost out of tune, ancient style of voice, rusty and dry as if straining for its last breath and rhythmed only by the rapping of the knuckles on a table top, then you will have probably witnessed Cante Jondo, which is flamenco in its purest form. If again at some stage, while listening to this ancient song you have felt as though death has passed over the top of you, making your skin tingle and your emotions clash, from joy to sheer excitement, to the depths of sorrow and pain, then you could have also experienced duende.
Flamenco is a name that is used to describe a family of song and dance styles that were created in the huge melting pot of Andalucia, and there are many purists who scorn anything other than pure orthodox flamenco. Whether it the gypsy jondo or the commercial fusion, flamenco can be found in abundance, as today's recording technology has made it more accessible than it was in the beginning. There are many new and young artists, who like their ancestors, are continuing this fantastic art, we all call flamenco.
I must also tell you something about the use of castanets by the flamenco dancers. It is said Spanish gypsies, did not originally use castanets, moving with, "easy, undulating filigranos" ( soft movements of the arms and hands), reflecting their eastern ethinic heritage. The early gypsies felt no need for devices, beyond their own innate, rhythmic hand clapping (palmadas), finger snapping (pitos), clicking of the tongue, and often tapping of a stick (b culo). These sounds were further embellished by the shouts ( grittos), and expressions of animation, that conjured the magic ( duende) of the moment ". However, even though gypsies have taken up the use of castanets, many still play in the primitive way, on the middle finger instead of the thumb. So castanets are not part of the true flamenco, they are an element that has been added to enhance finger snapping.
Castanets are actually a percurssion instrument that are several centuries old and which, as time passed, has become typical of Spanish folk-lore. and in Andalucia it is known as "palillos". The best matrial for making them is wood, the harder the better. However, other materials such as pressed canvas and fiberglass have become more common in the last few years due to good results that they have provided. To play them, the castanet's string must be wrapped around the thumb, and they must be played using the remaining fingers.
These Flamenco shows are of 2 hours duration, and usually starts at 9pm and the next show starts at 11 pm. A free drink of your choice comes with the ticket to the show.
The picts. above are of other interesting places in Sevilla. January 10 Granada : Spain. Granada is the capital city of the province that belongs to the autonomous community of Andalusia. The city is located between the foot of Sierra Nevada (in Spanish Sierra means a mountain range), the highest mountain range of the Iberian peninsula and the shores of the Mediterranean. Thus it has resulted in contradictory climatic conditions in a relatively small area of Granada. So in summer you would find the temperature soaring as high as 40 degree celsieus, whereas, in winter it can dip below zero. There is very little rainfall, so summer in Granada is practically rainfree.
Granada has beautiful and exquisite Moorish quarters, stunning Gothic palaces, and breathtaking natural scenary. It has snow clad mountains on one hand, and on the other hand has the mesmerising sea beckoning people to come and soak themselves in it. So, one can't find fault with their claim that you can Ski in Sierra Nevada in the morning and swim on the coast in the afternoon. Where else can one find such luxury?
Granada's countryside is very beautiful, with its white washed cottages and red terracotta tiles and pretty boxes of plants, with ancient cobbled paths leading through the land of figs, mulberry, almond trees and olive grooves : it is a site that always fascinates me.
The Moors crossed the strait of Gibraltar in 711 and settled in what was then a small visigoth town perched atop the Alhambra hill. They quietly settled down here, erected walls and laid the foundation for the prosperous civilisation that would follow. Granada reached its splendour in 1238, when Mohammed ben Nasar founded the Nasarid dynasty, and the kingdom of Granada stretched from Gibraltar to Murcia. The dynasty had 20 kings until King Boabdil was forced to surrender Granada to the Catholic monarchs, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, in 1492. During three centuries a grand and rich Islamic culture flourished, leaving Granada with architectural marvels of the caliber of the Alhambara, declared a World Heritage Site, along with the Generalife and the Albaicin.
Nasarid Palace Of Alhambra : It is built on top of a hill overlooking the rest of the city of Granada. It was built during the Nasarid dynasty with the intention of creating a paradise on Earth. Materials used to built this palace are very ordinary, ( plaster, timber, and tiles ) yet they have been put together magnificently. The Alhambra monument includes the Casa Reales, the Alcazba, the Palace of Carlos V, and the Generalife Gardens. The Casa Reales is broken into many rooms and patios that are intricately decorated with Moorish motif. Of all the rooms and patios the most beautiful ones are : Sala de los Abencerrajes, Sala de los Reyes, Sala de las dos Hermanas, Palacio del Partal, Salon de Emajadores, Patio de Arrayanes, Patio de los Leones ( this is the most beautiful in the entire complex), though when we visited it was undergoing some repairs so we couldn't really have a good look at it.
Patio de los Leones : The Fountain of Lions, placed in the center of the Patio, is one of the most genuine gems of the Alhambra complex. It is an alabaster basin supported by 12 white marble lions, emblems of strength and courage.
As I mentioned earlier it is under restoration, and would be ready for proper public viewing only in 2008.
The story goes that these 12 marble lions represent the hours of the day, the months of the year, and the signs of the zodiac. Legend claims that water flowed from the mouth of a different lion each hour of the day. The courtyard is lined with arcades supported by 124 slender marble columns. It is so beautiful you feel as if they are made of lace, so intricate and delicate the patterns are. You can stand there for long time looking at those marvelous pillars, the effect is really mesmerising. The loud call of the guide or the husband at this point can be quite jarring.
This was the heart of the palace, the most private section where the Sultan enjoyed his harem, which included both male and female beauties.
There are various halls with richly decorated honeycomb ceilings and domes, which are proof of the finest example of the Spanish Islamic architecture in the world. Then there is the famous hall where the sultan called his rivals of a Banquet, and murdered all of them in one go. Then there is the palace of Carlos V, which although looks beautiful yet seems totally out of place in such a setting. Mercifully, the Emperor's attempts to replace this aesthically Moorish palace with Gothic edifice were curtailed by frequent earthquakes and lack of funds. The Generalife : Was built in 13th century to overlook the Alhambara and set in 30 lush hectares. It was used by te Sultans as their summer palace or retreat to spend their time in the company of their numerous concubines. The highlights of Generalife is its gardens, which though beautiful has undergone lots of channges over the years. A long pool with rows of water jets makes graceful arches above it, with lots of plants and beautiful cypress hedges (which however were not used in Moorish gardens but have been added ) and countless fountains makes this garden a real treat to the eye and to the soul. I believe the famous American writer and former ambassador of Spain Washington Irwing took up residence in the palace in 1829. It was here that he wrote his best- selling "Tales of the Alhambra" which brought attention of the world to Granada, its romanticism, which still seems to draw people from all parts of the world. Well if you want to discover the rich and interesting history, experience the vibrant culture, and natural beauty of southern Spain, then I recommend you make it a point to include a visit to Granada, in your trip to Spain.
December 20 Toledo : Spain.Come and travel with me to other interesting parts of Spain.
Toledo.
Toledo is one of the richest historical and cultural cities in Spain. Situated south of Madrid, the distance between the two capitals ( Toledo was the former capital of Spain until 1560 when Phillip II moved the capital to Madrid) is approximately about one and half to two hours. The climate is very hot in summer and very cold in winter, and there is always sunshine and very little rain. In the north east, the valley of the River Tagus is flanked by a series of mountain ranges; to the south is stretch of terrain abounding in game. To the east the area opens out to region of La Mancha, which is marked by its characteristically flat expanses and towns so graphically portrayed in the works of Cervantes. The fertile plains are peppered with windmills made famous in Miguel de Cervantes' "Don Quixote". Imagine passing through this city, which brought back memories of this beautiful novel.
Toledo is one of Europe's most important and beautifully preserved medieval cities. When you walk the ancient streets, you feel as if you have stepped into another world, in an era when the Arabs, Jews and Christians lived together in peace making their mark on this historic city which was once the capital of Spain. Toledo has been declared a national monument by the Spanish government and a World Heritage Site by UNESCO.
You reach it by crossing the impressive 14th century San Martin's Bridge over the River Tagus and enter through one of the huge stone gateways in the old defense walls. Once you enter you see that the city is filled with ancient churches, convents, synagogues, and buildings with a definite moorish stamp on them, and many buildings housing priceless works of art and antiquities. The impressive alczar fortress with its four towers dominating the skyline for miles around. The magnificent Cathedral of Toledo, built between 13th and 15th centuries, is the most impressive of the Gothic architecture in the city.
The famous artist El Greco made Toledo is home. El Greco was the greatest Spanish painter of the 16th century ( since he was from Greece, he was given the name El Grceo, by the Spanish people : the name which he hated ). He lived and died in Toledo which is home to some of his works including the famous, "The Burial of the Count Of Orgaz" depicting a 14th century Toledan nobleman lying in his grave. The painting hangs in the 14th century Chapel of Santo Tome, above the count's tomb.
Toledo also has an international reputation for its beautifully hand-crafted swords. The city has specialised in sword making since medieval times and continues to produce the finest swords, armour, replicas and collectables.There is factory where you can see the artists working and also learning this art. You can have a look at the shop where they sell all items produced in that factory. They have beautiful carved knives, pendants with chain, bracelets and bangles, earrimgs, photo frames and many eye- catching creations all plated in 22carot gold. Toledo is also very famous for its marzipans you can check them out if you are in the mood for something sweet. There are also shops selling unique wooden furnitures and hand-made laces.
Be prepared to do a lot of walking everywhere in Spain, we didn't mind it for it kept us warm in the freezing cold of October.
To absorb the spirit of Toledo completly, it is necessary to know every nook and corner to wander through its narrowest little streets, to look out over the Tagus and let ones eye lose themselves in the wide horizans.
We happened to come across some actors who were basking under the sun, taking a short break from their shooting of some period film. I t was fun to be photographed with them. December 08 Tibidabo Mountain : BarcelonaMount Tibidabo
The Tibidabo Mountain is one of the must see in the list of Barcelona. It is one of landmarks of this beautiful city for a number of reasons. First of all, the emblematic church of the same name is located on its peak. Secondly, the amusement park, constructed in 1899, is the oldest park in Spain, and the second oldest in Europe. One can find the old and new additions of all the scary and thrilling rides together in this park. One of the most unique items for example, is an exact replica of the airplane that was used for the first flight between Barcelona and Madrid in 1928.
The park also includes the Tibidabo Museum of Automatoms, located in an old theatre that dates back to 1909. It houses a collection of old mechanical toys that worked by inserting a coin, which were common at the European fairs in the past. The museum is amongst the most complete in its genre, especially because the pieces are in such excellant condition, and the collection includes many peculiar mechanical toys pertaining to that era. That's why I suppose, it is not strange to find many shops having such mechanical toys on display for sale all over Spain.
Tibidabo (495m/1650ft)is where you should go for you final look at Barcelona. On a clear day, ( most days in Barcelona are clear) you can see the mountainsof Majorca ( the largest and the most famous of the Balearic Islands ). Reached by train, tram, and cable car, Tibidabo is the most popular Sunday excursion in Barcelona. November 27 Las Rambalas & Barcelona 's Port Vell.The walkway which you see in the center of the picture is Port Vell and behind us is the walkway across the
marina to the Barcelona aquarium and the IMAX Theatre. This picure of Barcelona was taken in October, and you can see the sun shining brightly. ( beware it is very cold). The same picture also shows part of the Barcelona cruise terminal. You can also see the monument to Christopher Columbus (Colon) in the background which also marks the foot of the Southern most end of the Rambalas. The Christopher monument is placed at the site he arrived in 1493 after his discoverry of America the year before. Columbus was presumaly born in Genoa, Italy. He first moved to Portugal and later settled in Spain. Nevertheless in the 19th century Columbus was considered a Catalan - some historians still claimed he was born in Catalonia, hence the monument for the famous explorer in Barcelona. The 7m high statue shows a standing Columbus pointing towards the sea. The column can be visited by a lift and one can also have a beautiful view of the entire city. There is a pricey mall and resturants and a 5 star hotel too in Port Vell.
Las Rambalas & Port Vell.
If you want to understand Barcelona you need to head to the shores to see where the action is at. One lookaround will tell you people love their boats ad yachts here -- there is rarely a piece of horizon that isn't interrupted by a mast. As a tourist, this a great place to go for a leisurely walk. As you come to Port Vell - or Old Harbour, you will see a large promenade, where you will find many tourists and locals walking at any time of the day. It is really very relaxing to watch the boats pass by as you keep walking, basking under the warm sun ( for in Oct. it is pretty cold. Now don't ask me how I am wearing only a light jacket). You could also take boat ride.
The bridge opens side ways whenever a sailing boat has to enter or to leave the marina, a curious and interesting spectacle to watch if you happen to be there at that time.
Las Rambalas means in Spanish and Catalan an intermittent water flow, and is derived from the Arabic 'Ramla'which means 'sandy riverbed'.
This colourful strip of Barcelona divides the old town from the new. Once up on a time the city wall stood by the banks of a stream running through the center of the old city. The space created with the wall's removal in the 19th century, the riverbed and existing paths combined to create this wide avenue : thus the name Las Rambalas. Any thing you want you will find it here: it has street performers, break- dance perfomers, artists doing portraits, flower sellers, newspaper shops, street cafes and resturants, pet shops, gift shops, but everything comes for a price. Nothing is cheap. There are mime artists, puppeteers with skeleton dancing to fast music, and living statues of Flamico dancers, and others, they all look so good. The avenue is divided into 5 sections each dealing with a particular business. You notice how, unaware you are of the time, because you are busy soaking up all excitement and variety in the atmosphere : for you don't want to miss a single thing that is going on there. It is simply fascinating. And when your stomach growls with hunger you drop into one of numerous resturants, and while you wait for your order to come you taste the local extremely tasty and cheap wine cocktail called Sangria.
By the way, while we are talking about sangria I would like to mention a few facts about it. I read somewhere that to the Spanish sangria is a party drink, and their main idea is to get drunk cheaply. There is nothing special about the recipe, it is very simple to make a perfect sangria. All you need is the cheapest red wine you can get in the super-market, the cheapist spirits, in the supermarket ( brandy, whiskey,gin anything will do) and the cheapest fruits you find lying around, waiting to be thrown out, apples, oranges, peaches, pineapple, they are kind of mushy and too much effort to eat, well those are the type of fruits perfectly suitable for use.
Lots of sugar and cinnamon is added to mask the taste of stale fruits. Here is the recipe to make good sangria:
A bottle of cheap red wine ( but not so cheap that it tastes bitter)
A similar amount of lemonade
A glass of liquor ( brandy would be fine)
An apple, an orange, a peach ( if you have or any other fruits mentioned above)
5- 10oz of
sugar and a sprinkle of
cinnamon
Preparation:
Chop the fruits and soak them in liquor overnight.
Next day pour the wine, the liquor & fruit and lemonade into a punch bowl and add lots and lots of ice.
Add half the sugar and a sprinkle of cinnamon. Taste. If it doesn't taste sweet enough, add more sugar, it can take quite a lot of sugar. But if you like it less sweet thats also fine. I have tasted sangria in different places in Spain they all taste different, either it could be because of the fruits they have used or also because of less sugar in some places. But they all tasted good.
BTW sangria can also be made using white wine.
While you are in Las Rambala don't forget to visit the " Boqueria Market". This is where you can find fresh and colourful display of vegetables, fruits, juices with crushed ice in different natural colours, different kinds of nuts and the famous Zaafraan or safforn and people who are die hard non-vegetarian can get to see every part of the animals dispalyed. To me it really looked terrible, but to a non-veg., it might be mouth- watering.
November 24 Park Guell, BarcelonaPark Guell is another very interesting place to visit in Barcelona. Once you enter the park, the unusual use of materials and plants throughout the park catch and delight the eye, making Park Guell one of the greatest parks in the world. its craftmanship is simply mind - blowing. It is also a place which offers oppurtunities to engage in different activities, including strolling, people watching, taking the dog for walks. jogging/ running, eating at the cafes, meeting friends or just whiling away your time.
The park was built between 1900- 1914 and was commissioned by Eusebi Guell who wanted to create a stylish park for the aristocrats. Guell park contains amazing stone structures, stunning tiling and fascinating buildings. The Dragon at the entrance is adorned in beautiful coloured tiling and there is something hypnotic and magical about it : everybody crowds around it to have a picture taken with it. Laid out on a hill with breathtaking views of Barcelona, the Park Guell was Antoni Gaudi's most ambitoius project after the Sagrda Familia Church. It can only be described as the most psychedelic of Spain attractions.
You would see amazing walk ways supported by twisting rock pillars that seem to be growing out of the ground like tree trunks. Although, they would seem rather irregular in shape , as yoou walk you would also feel they are very natural and beautiful. Gaudi was always greatly influenced by nature and used them liberally in all his works.
At the top of Guell Park is a terraced area from where one can get a wonderful view of the park and the Barcelona city. Here you would also find multi-coloured tiled seating curving round the terrace : the vibrant colours and beautiful patterns are truely amazing.
There are so many things to admire in Park Guell, that, only a personal visit would do it justice : for no words are enough to describe its breathtaking and unique beauty. If you are visiting Park Guell you must be prepared for a 20 minute walk, the last 200 m walk is up a steep hill. If you have difficulties you can take a taxi up to the park. Otherwise the walk up the hill is really nice and pleasant. You must keep aside half a day for the visit to the Park. You'll find bus information at the tourist information office at Placa de Catulanya. Be prepared to see an absolutely stunning resemblance to Hansel and Grettal or Alice in Wonerland type of structures everywhere, you would almost feel like you are in some other world : a world of fairy tales. November 21 Barcelona and its famous buildingsSee the intricate mosaic patterns on the floor : they look like beautiful carpets. The mural on the wall too is amazing : It made of coloured tiles in mossaic pattern .
The Casa Mila : Barcelona Spain
This is one of the craziest building built by the so called crazy or brilliant artist called Antoni Gaudi. Gaudi has taken stone and moulded it like lava, achieving pure drama. One can spend hours inside this building listening to an audio guide, looking with wonder at the doors, ceilings, the light passing through various opennings, marvelling at the logic behind each and everything : it is indeed a mind- blowing experience, one has to see it to believe it. Casa Mila is rather hard to describe, some say, it resembles a honeycombed structure of a beehive, some say it resembles, in texture and design, a porous sand castle nearing collapse, and some feel that it definitely looks the dwelling of the famous "Flintstones". Well each to his/her own interpretation, for it is like a modern art, where anyone one see anything and everything might seem right.
The Casa Mila was more commonly known as La Pedrera ( the stone quarry), was completed in 1911 and recieved less than enthusiastic response. The rippled stone facade said to have been inspired by the mountain Montserrat, curves round the street corner, while the cave- like balconies seems to simply flow into one another. The wrought- iron balconies were individually designed and crafted by Gaudi's frequent collaborator, Josep Maria Jujol. Not one balcony is designed in the same manner, yet they blend so well together. What was once looked down by the people of Barcelona, now holds a place of great pride.
Whatever Gaudi's inspiration and intent, the world community recognized the Casa Mila's pioneering design and the sculpted apartment building became one of 812 UNESCO World Heritage Sights in 1984
.
In this building Gaudi created a paradox : an artificial but natural building which was simultaneously summary of all the forms that he has since become famous for. Today Casa Mila is one of the handful of Barcelona's attractions. Remember to visit the strange roof top " chimney park" which is especially beautiful with the late
afternoon sun slanting over the city. All Antoni Gaudi's buildings look like they have been made out of melted wax. November 16 Barcelona : Spain
August 31 Sridhar- My brotherThis is about my brother Sridhar whom I have never met. Yet I don't know why I am so fond of him. I have only seen his photographs, and heard so much about him from my father and my mother. No matter how many times I hear about him, it never fails to move me to tears. This is the story of my brother, Sridhar.
He was the third child born to my parents. He was beautiful as a child, dearly loved by my parents and his elder siblings. One cannot blame my parents for loving him so much, more than they loved their other children. But nobody complained for he was loved by the whole family.
He was very happy, till came the time for his separation from his beloved family. My parents were constantly troubled by the frequent transfers that my father's army job entailed. So my father decided to leave the children in one place, so that their schooling would not be disrupted constantly. My matrenal grandmother was living in Madras with her other children. It was decided that my elder sister would be left under her care, and was admitted in a good school there. My father also felt that by sending money for the education and the upkeep of his daughter, he would also in a way lighten the strain on my grandmother's financial position at that time. He wanted to help her in some way, without making it look obivious. (that granny being his own aunt - my father had married his own cousin)
Now the two boys , that is my my elder brother Patcha and the younger Sridhar were sent to live with my father's elder sister, who was also struggling to make ends meet, having lost her husband at a young age. She was also living alone in Madras at that time. So the boys were entrusted to her care.
My father now thought he had done a fine job by leaving his kids in responsible hands, and that, at the same time, the money sent for their upkeep would also indirectly help his needy kin. My mother, as usual was not happy, and she criticised my father, saying that, he always did things with ulterior motives. But she could also appreciate and understand the difficulties the children were having to face, with their constant moving. But a mother's love for her kids cannot be felt in equal measure by the man. Therefore, for all practical reasons my mother had to give in.
Things were going well for the first 2 years : the children had settled in their respective homes. My mother had another baby girl, who was now about a year old. My parents would visit my sister and my brothers during the summer. Everytime they came visiting, my brother Sridhar would beg them to take him away with them, promising he would never trouble them in any way. With a heavy heart , they had to leave him behind after every visit. The little baby girl was so cute with curly hair and beautiful eyes, that my brother was totally in love with that baby doll. He would play with her, look at her with amazement, and would keep asking my mother how come she looked so beautiful and adorable. Again he would start begging them to take him along with them, now that he had such a lovely fairy like sister to play with.
However his pleadings and entreaties had to be refused gently yet firmly. My father was really moved by the compulsions that life had put him through, but also mindful of his childrens' future and welfare, he had to turn his heart to stone. The time had finally come for my parents to say good bye, but before leaving, my father took both my brothers to a toy shop and asked them to take whatever they wanted. My elder brother said he wanted the whole shop, for he liked everything in it. Sridhar, on the other hand held my father's hand tightly saying, he did not want any toys, he wanted only his appa, amma and his baby sister, and he wanted to go home with them. "Take me with you, take me with you", he started crying miserably. After pacifying him with great difficulty, promising to take all of them back with him on his next visit, my father left for Bombay with my mother and my sister. He could not bear the idea of his children living away from him any longer---- he could not see the pain in his wife's eyes anymore, he would soon make arrangements to take them back with him.
A month later, my parents got the news that Sridhar was seriously ill, with high fever, and had been admitted in the hospital. My aunt sent word to my father to come to Madras immediately. Before they could even board the plane there was another telegram saying that Sridhar was sinking rapidly. By the time they reached Madras, their beloved son had already left this world. Sridhar was diagonised as having meningitis, and since he was so young, just 9 years old, he could not survive the severe attack.
It is totally unthinkable, the kind of pain the child must have gone through, both physical as well as mental, in not having his mother and father beside him, comforting him, with their tender touch, and showering him with the love he constantly yearned for. My father had tears in his eyes as he described the softness of his child's hand .....as if he was not dead, but just sleeping soundly....and any time now he would wake up from his slumber, jumping and cry with joy " appa you have come to take me home with you." It was the most unforgetable event in my parents life, and the most unforgiveable, an event that must have haunted my mother till her death and is still haunting my father.
What he did was probably right at that time. Still, one cannot stop thinking and wondering perhaps if Sridhar had not been left in the care of others, maybe, my brother would still be alive this day. Or even if he were to die he would have died under our care. It must have had such an impact on all of us in some sub-conscious level, I literally shudder thinking about it. Though we all move on in life, somewhere the impact has left a deep scar in us, and every once in a while it bleeds.
This story has been told by parents to me so many times, that it almost makes me feel as if I know this brother of mine very closely. I was born three years after his death, and when I was conceived, my mother had great hopes that, Sridhar would be born again, and this time nobody would ever be able to separate him from her. But alas, my parents were disappointed- they were not to have their son reborn, and I came into this world instead. In this life time they were not destined to see their lost son again.
This time when my father had come home to stay with us, he once again related this story of my brother and as usual, we both had unshed tears in our eyes. I thought, I must write about my dear sweet brother who may have left this world years ago, but is still living in our hearts.
Rama Ananth July 19 Our trip to KodaikanalWe had a short and pleasant trip to Kodai. It was a trip we enjoyed with our children.
However, I must say driving all the way to Kodai is not so much fun, infact it is quite tiring and boring. It took us nearly 8 hours to reach from Bangalore. But the roads are excellant, right from Bangalore to Kodaikanal. Looks like we chose the right time to visit Kodai for it was very cool at night and during the day it was very pleasant. The usual holiday crowd was not there so it was a blessing. It was a trip our son wanted to make just before he left for the US. He had good fun driving most of the time. I must add, that ultimately all hill stations look alike, with the same lake, same or maybe slightly different points, and of course the same kind of crowd. But if you are looking for a change from the usual busy life, then taking a quick, short break to Ooty, Yercaud, Munnar, or Kodaikanal are some good choices.Well I have put up some pictures taken there, check it out.
June 13 My Dad. A wedding in the family--- I am excited for I hear my dad is coming to attend it. He is staying with me for a whole week--- I can't believe it!
The minute he enters the house he starts chatting with us non- stop..... for there are so many things to ask , so many things to share etc. etc. He is a real store - house of knowledge .... we have to just ask him something, and he would give a detailed explanation, amazing us with his intelligence, sharp memory, and great sense of humour. He would go back to his younger days and relate all the stories of how he met and married my mother.
Those days marriage was not a matter of choice .... it involved marrying for various reasons. Marrying within the family was considered to be best option for everybody. For example if your father's sister had 5 or 6 daughters to be married it is the duty of the father to bring home atleast one of his sister's daughter as his daughter- in- law, this way he was helping in reducing the burden from his sister's shouders. Similarly an uncle could marry his own neice. This was the custom followed for ages all over south, though now it is not so much in vogue, but still some people follow it . As long as it is not direct blood relation everything is ok. One can't even think of such things these days.
Well my father married his mother's brother's daughter, ( which is my mother). According to him he was given the choice of marrying any 1 of the 2 daughters, who were suitable for his age. But he was in a dilemma, for both were good looking, and it was upto him to choose. So he changed the names of the girls in their horoscopes and also changed his name in his horoscope, ( because everybody knew everybody, the astrologer would not even bother to match horoscopes when it is in the family), so my father cheated a little and made him match the horoscope saying it was for a friend. Of the two only one matched, which happened to be my mother's horoscope, and thus the choice was made. Another distant cousin married the elder daughter, infact both my father and his cousin married the respective girls on the same day to save money. That was the way things were done in those days , one had to keep everything in the mind.
But, although my parents remained happily married for 49 years, they were the sort of couple who could never see eye to eye on any issue, and since my father had the dominating streak, what he said only prevailed. My mother although loved him deeply, she hated this attitude. He had jokingly revealed to her, how he made the choice of marrying her, and whenever my mother happened to meet that astrologer, she would tell him that she felt like tying him to pole and give him 100 whip lashes.
My parents life was full of ups and downs. Whenever my parents did get along, my mother would ask my father, to tell her the truth ..... that he married her because he fell for her , and he would always tell her it was not love. Now he is all alone, and he feels bad that he never told her how much he loved her. He said he could have told her that atleast once, but he was too proud to admit that to her.
But I am sure she must have guessed it long time ago, but simply wanted to know right from the horse's mouth. Now he feels her loss so much, that he would keep going back to the days when they were really happy, and he says they were made for each other despite their differences, that the universe works in mysterious ways, though he thought at that time he could choose between the 2 sisters, and tried to hoodwink the astrologer, he must have known deep in his heart that it was my mother he always wanted to marry.
This, coming from my father, now when my mother is no longer here to feel happy to hear it, was really moving. However this is not the first time I am hearing him say this, for I have heard this story many times from him, but only after my mother passed away, which was 15 years ago.
Well, this is just one interesting story about my father and mother, there are many, many more, but it would take volumes to write about each every interesting facets of their turbulent lives together. I can only say that, I am proud to have had such a loving and patient mother, and I am equally proud to have a such a wonderful father, who, may have been very proud at one time, but is definitely a man with very good heart and a great smile.
Happy Father's Day.
May 10 Remembering Mother ( a poem for my mother).In tears we saw you sinking,
Our hearts were almost broken,
We wanted you back
But when we saw you sleeping,
So peaceful, free from pain,
How could we wish you back with us,
To suffer that again
It broke our hearts to lose you,
But you did not go alone,
For part of us went with you,
The day God took you home
If Roses grow in Heaven,
Lord please pick a bunch for me,
Place them in my Mother's arm
and tell her they are from me
Tell her I love her and miss her
and when she turns to smile,
place a kiss upon her cheek
and hold her a while.
Because remembering her is easy,
I do it everyday,
But there's an ache within my heart
that will never go away.
Don't think of her as gone away
Her journey's just begun,
Life has so many facets
This earth is only one
Just think of her as resting
From sorrows and tears
In a place of warmth and comfort
Where there are no days or years.
Think how she must be wishing
That we could know, today
Now nothing but our sadness
Can really pass away
And think of her as living
In the hearts of those she touched
For nothing loved is ever lost
And she loved so much.
( author unknown).
Roses for my Mother.
My Mother( a picture taken of her when was 12 or 13 years old, and my favourite picture ).
May 01 Cooking up a blogThe guest speaker at our fortnightly Ladies Club meeting was exhorting women who work in the house (housewives) to demand their due share and remuneration for services rendered."I am just a housewife" need not be construed as a useless occupation, but as a substantial contribution to the running of the household --- as worthy in many ways as a wage earner's share of credit for the upkeep of the house.
On reflection,
 I found it to be absolutely true . A time would soon come when society will accept and acknowledge the economic value of a woman's contribution around the house.Till then ........ well ! The talk over, we broke up into small groups around the buffet table as usual, exchanging pleasantries and the inevitable gossip.
 Rita having recently lost her cook to a punjabi household was desperately seeking a replacement and was urging Meena and Tara to redouble their efforts at finding one for her . With a glint in my eyes,
 I walked into their midst offering a possible solution. With eager faces and ears pricked , they pounced on me to come out with it. It amazes me always to see so many of my friends turning to me for help in finding domestic help, when I myself do not keep a cook, maid. driver, or a gardener ( I only have a husband, who does a bit of everything for me) . " Rita", I said, "I will be your cook, if you will pay me a premium salary for my speciality cooking."
Rita's response to my offer was unexpected and was full of cold logic and sarcasam.
 "No, Rama, " she said . "You would cook us delectable palak paneer, puliodhere, avial, throw in lip- smacking chopsuey, conjure up spongy cakes, light - as- air souffles etc., etc. ( They all know I have attended several cookery and baking classes). Both you and your menus will become very expensive for us. Your delicious cooking will make us hog and put on weight . Next, being a fitness fanatic, you will force us to take body- conditioning and aerobics lessons from you and make us pay for that also". Not to be broken in her train of thoughts, Rita continued, " while exercising, we might land up with sprains which you will volunteer to treat with Reiki at extra cost. "No Rama," she ended, " at this rate, my husband would be sailing forever ( he is in the merchant marine ) to pay for your innumerable services. You are way beyond our reach."
Seeing me crestfallen,
 Tara attempted to cheer me up saying I could always turn the conversation into an interesting blog.March 30 Break from the past ( final part - at last!)The Break From The Past. ( continuation…..) (This is a just a story, any resemblance to real persons is purely unintentional and co-incidental)
I must have lost consiousness, for when I came to, I only had a vague remembrance of the things that were happening around me. Chandran was sprinkling water over my face, and I could hear him call out my name several times ….. but wait a second!what is this ? Though words were forming in my mouth, no sound as emanating ….why couldn’t I speak damn it ? Have I suddenly become dumb? I was confused ……and what had happened to my hand ? I could not move it the way I wanted it to move. Something was terribly wrong with me, and then I heard a man, may be a doctor, telling my husband that it appeared to be a stroke, that I should be taken to a hospital immediately. Soon I was in the hospital, surrounded by Doctors, nurses, emergency technicians, wardboys and a whole lot of people. The Doctors looked to be totally baffled, as the various test results showed absolutely nothing that was wrong with me : I had no diabetes, blood pressure, or high cholesterol for that matter, and I had no symptoms of headache or anything, prior to the stroke . But stroke it was : my speech, and all movements on the right side was paralized. I was shocked when I heard the diagnosis.
But the doctors were still trying to find out the reason for the stroke. However luckily, after a few more tests, surgery was ruled out, I was on drips and some drugs were given to me on regular basis to dissolve the clot. Apparantely, a clot had occurred in some part of my body which had travelled to my brain and had travelled down to lodge itself in the left side of my throat region : which was why the paralysis had occurred on the right side of my body and that was the reason I lost my speach, and had lost all movement on my right side. But according to the doctors, with specific medicines my speech would come back and there was nothing to worry. Some pills were even given for my memory which I had not lost, but to clear my brain, which was for the most part disoriented. But no medicines in this world was going to give me back my movements.
I was totally disgusted with life ……..what was going to happen to me ? I would never be able to dance again, my movements would become very restricted. I might even need the support of a walking stick, or worse I might be bedridden. Desperately I tried to move my hand but nothing happened it lay there, limp and not budging. I could only sob, sob, sob . Seeing me cry, the nurses would console me saying everything would become alright -------- but they didn’t know what they were saying, or may be they did, and that made me cry even more. Most of the time my husband was with me only telling to rest and not to unnecessarily worry about anything. I was asleep most of the time and started channeling Reiki to myself although I could hardly feel any thing as part of my body was immune to sensation. But I continued, for I knew whether I felt it or not the healing would take place for once a Reiki channel you are a Reiki channel for ever.
By and by, with passage of time, I could utter a few words and even put together short sentences, but they all sounded gibberish and made no sense to anybody. Though the sentences would form properly in my mind, but when they came out, they came out different, and made no sense to anybody. But the doctors told me not give up, for soon my speech would come back to normal. I should keep working at it . Similarly I had to work on my body too, for unless I worked hard, I may never get my movements back fully.
It was all so disappointing and depressing, and there seemed to be no light at the end of the tunnel. People were just saying that I would become alright, but it was all only in hope: nobody knew for sure.
However my 3rd son who was a Doctor, kept telling me that it was possible to completely recover, and I should not to get distracted, and drown myself in self pity. It is true the recovery would be slow, but my focus should be on doing everything possible to make it happen. Soon a Physiotherapist was assigned to me, who helped me walk short stretches of the corridors of the hospital and put me through simple stretching exercises. Even with his support and coaxing, everything was so difficult to do. It left me wondering whether I would ever be able to anything by myself. Things that I took for granted like walking, talking, holding things, etc., everything became a pain for I had to learn to do everything from the beginning like a child : only, I was not a child .
There was no further treatment to be had I was pronounced fit to be discharged from the hospital. The doctors had done all that could be done, and now the extent and pace of recovery was in my hands alone. It all sounded so forlorn and bleak.
There were so many things that had to be done for me on a daily basis, starting with giving me a bath, combing my hair, helping me eat and drink, giving me medicines on time etc. Of course everything was done by Chandran. Again, evenings were time to do the daily drills with the Physiotherapist. I was chagrined that I could barely walk a few steps without his support. The things he asked me to do were so difficult, though to a normal person it might look extremely simple and easy. Like a school teacher, he prescribed homework that I should do at other times like, turning pages of a book, holding a spoon in my right hand and bringing it to my mouth to feed myself, holding a glass in my hand, bringing it up to my lips to drink, and many more exercises. Suffice is to say that I was to relearn everything once again. Everyday he would expect some improvement, but I could hardly show any, though I tried my best. Also I was very weak, and the medicines were making me drowsy most of the time. Looked like my whole life had come to a sudden stand still.
I had to practice writing also, but however much I tried I could not make my fingers hold a pen or a pencil properly – it was twisting and turning in my fingers and slipping out. It was absolutely frustrating. But I kept on trying every exercise, atleast 10 times before getting tired and giving it all up. However, I continued with my physical training with weights, continued my finger exercises and gradually found some improvement. I found after trying for about 5 times I could turn pages, cut paper with scissors, pick up things from the floor, comb my hair, have bath by myself, walk around without support, cut vegetables, wash vessels and so on. I was extremely overjoyed, and my doctor having seen the improvement in my condition, stopped most of the medicines.
Time now to start walking outside the house : Chandran took me very religiously to the nearby park, but here too I noticed another problem. First I was dragging the right foot and I was not able to walk even for a few minutes without stopping for a rest. It continued like this for sometime. And although it was disappointing, I knew from previous experience that I would surely overcome this failing also with patience and continual practice. In time, I did overcome this problem, but before I could rejoice at my success, I noticed that I was not moving my right hand at all while walking. So before I could fully correct one problem, I was plagued by another. Why .... Oh why this constant struggle, would there ever be an easy way out ? The answer was of course a loud “NO”.
But having a wonderful husband and good friends made all the difference. Though I was very skeptical and critical of the extent of progress I had made, they assured me that what I had ahcieved thus far was substantial and significant, and that I should not be too hard upon myself : a positive attitude would push me faster forward towards full recovery. Every small and new success was to be cherished, leading me to my ultimate goal. Of course, I couldn’t stop pushing myself despite all the well meaning advice. I felt I had to race against time and get instant results. During one of my visits to doctor for a checkup, I implored him to be frank with me and tell me whether I could fully recover to my old normal self, and would be able to start dancing again like I used to. To this, his evasive answer was that people have been known to have achieved full recovery after a stroke, everything was possible. Then he said something that really shocked me : he said that whatever recovery was possible had to be achieved within a year’s time, and after that time, further progress would be negligible. He said it was important I kept on working my muscles to achieve my goal.
From that day onwards, it was 3 hours of workout in the morning and another 2 to3 hours in the evening for me. Mostly it was swimming in the evenings with my former dance teacher and business partner Paula. After swimming it was 1 hour of practicing dance moves. At first everything - right from swimming to dancing was tough, but gradually I improved till I almost became perfect. It was not just one thing at a time that needed my attention, but rather concentrating on every aspect, simultaneously, that brought about the desired progresss. With every success, I goaded myself to push further forward with determination, for having come thus far, it would be meaningless to be satisfied, become complacent and slow down or stop. By now it was almost eight months since the fateful day of the stroke, and I was happy with myself and with life in general.
I also realised that although I had refused to acknowledge the pain of separation from Chandran, and was continuing to live on as though nothing had happened, deep in my heart, I had never stopped loving him totally and the depression was eating me away unconsiously. When Chandran had all of a sudden come to my life, the happiness of getting him back was too much. I suppose everything happens for a reason. Whatever the reason, ultimately we were both together like never before. There was now a maturity in our love, where love had a totally new meaning for us. It meant that we could give love unconditoinally and also receive love unconditionally. Each of us in our own way had learnt a valuable lesson in life.
Well, everything was now near perfect with me, as though I was born again. There were no telltale signs of lingering disabilities overtly visible. I got my beloved back and I got my lost movements back. It all seemed like a miracle, but miracle it was not. It was patient, persistent, determined, hard and back breaking work that did the trick.
I have now come to firmly believe that somehow, the break that happened between Chandran and me in the past was an essential event that brought us together to our present life, and will keep us ever together in the future.
Now, all I can do is to look forward to the dance competition that is coming up in a month’s time. I have to win the 1st prize, for that is my latest goal. Wish me luck as I go shopping for the most beautiful dance dress, with my wonderful husband, who not only is my life-partner but also my dance- partner…….how cool is that !!
November 25 Break from the past ( contd.)The Break From The Past……………..
There he was, looking so handsome: nobody would believe he was 60, he looked like a 40 or 45 year old man, very successful and confident in life………. I could almost feel myself melting, like a burning candle, just watching him. He seemed to be in a good mood, but only for a second, for as soon as he saw me watching that awful serial, I could see his expression change, a little too fast, into disgust. Then his eyes fell on the Champagne chilling in the ice- tub, the elegantly set table, the expensive crockery, and then he turned to look at me, sitting all decked up, as if for a party………..then he went rushing towards the TV and punched the buttons in a fit of anger, and before I could even open my mouth, he slapped me!
I could hardly believe what had just happpened …… he had the audacity to slap me….. me for no apparent reason. Then he started his usual taunts and verbal abuse, and before I could comprehend this nonsense, he went to the dining table, picked up the Champagne bottle and smashed it on the floor. “This is my house”, he shouted, “knowing very well how I detest such idiotic serials, you never stop watching them day after day”, he growled at me. “What is this nonsense going on in this house --- a party for your dancing students, behind my back is it?”
I did not bother to answer him….. I just left him yelling there, quietly walked up the stairs to our room. I quickly threw some clothes and a few other things that came to hand into a suitcase, and came down. I said, “I am leaving you Chandran, I cannot take this kind of behaviour any longer from you. Something is wrong with you, and it is time you did something about it, I am never going to come back” I could still feel the sting on my cheek where he had hit me : tears welled up in my eyes, ready to burst out. I looked at Chandran, and turned round to take one last look at our house which held so many good memories, and stepped out the door forever.
I got into my car and just drove off with no specific destination in my mind. I kept on driving at a steady pace and tried to control myself. I decided to go to my dance teacher’s house. Paula was the right person, for she was not only my teacher but also my best friend and business partner. We owned the Dance Studio together. At this moment in my life I really needed her companionship and her counsel. She was shocked to see me, looking teary eyed and shattered. She thought something had happened to Chandran. When I told her what had happened, she was as stunned as I was. She quickly went and got some ice cubes from the fridge, wrapped them in a napkin and gently pressed it to my cheek. Then she told me not to think about anything, and just go rest.
But thoughts have a way of coming unbidden, with torturing regularity, and I was neither physically or mentally fit to think coherently. I was in a stupor for a long time before sleep finally overtook me. Next day Paula called up one of our students who was also a doctor to come and examine me. He prescribed some anti depressants, and advised complete rest. I felt I could do with a complete rest from life itself. A week went by with no word from Chandran. Weeks turned into months and by and by, Chandran receded to the background. My business was flourishing, and both Paula and I we were very much in demand. We were invited to give talks on Dance and dancing, and even bagged a contract for a short serial on TV, teaching dance steps and techniques. It was so much fun, things were going very well in life, I really stopped missing Chandran altogether.
My children came to visit me often, which brought great joy and solace to me. Everything seemed just fine. In the mean time, I heard from a friend of Chandran that he had resigned from his post and had bought off the Gym he was working out at, and had become a certified fitness guru. His friend added that now Chandran was fitter looking and muscular, having all the time to devote to his favourite hobby- body building. I wondered why my children didn’t care to share this news with me. Well, how could they since it was I who had forbidden them from talking about their father in front of me. If now I should enquire about their father, they might think I was interested in getting back to him, which I was most certainly not.
The shrill ringing of the phone brought me out of my reverie with a jolt. I got up to pick up the ringing phone. It was from Juliet, one of my students. She was a Reiki master and asked me whether I would now consider taking up Reiki seriously : We had earlier discussed quite a lot about Reiki, which was said to be a simple and effective alternative healing technique. I felt she was truly perceptive when she used to point out during our chats that although I seemed happy with my life on the surface, there was a wound hidden deep inside of me, which kept me from being fully at peace with myself. She had also vouched that with Reiki, I would be able to heal whatever had to be healed to attain complete peace and harmony in life. She had a group of people who had signed up for a course she was conducting in two days time. In the state I was in presently, I jumped at the opportunity and signed up for the course.
I successfully completed the first level of competence in Reiki, and started to practice it very regularly. The results were truly incredible. I started seeing things and people in a very different way. I could feel a new sense of forbearance and patience envelope me. I was no longer short of temper, and never in a hurry : it was a beautiful feeling. Before the mandatory 21 days of practicing Reiki was over I was engulfed by a strange sense of peace and happiness, but I was also occasionally sick with mild cold, runny nose, and occasional stomach upset and headaches. But instead of getting worried and running to the doctor, I was happily intensifying my Reiki self- treatments, for as Juliet had forewarned me, this was just the detoxification stage that one had to go through, while practicing Reiki. There was nothing to worry. Everything was just going fine. You see I had to release all the pent up emotions, my expectations from my husband, my anger, my disappointments, etc. It was a kind of therapy for me to go to the root of the matter that was troubling me, confront them face to face and find ways to resolve them. Just as I was beginning to see issues that were thus far daunting, with a greater sense of confidence and clarity, so too some of the symptoms of my illness due to practicing of Reiki began to disappear, leaving me feeling more and more energetic and confident : at peace with myself and the rest of this world.
I was now ready to do my second level of the Reiki course .It was an absolute stunner, for I realized I could literally reach across the barriers of time and space, anytime I wanted to. Wow! it was really amazing to learn all the unlimited and mind- blowing possibilities Reiki offered: it was awesome. One really ought to do the course to feel and experience the full power of Reiki. First and foremost it made me understand my relationship with Chandran with more clarity. I could now understand why such unpleasant things kept on happening to us. I could now see that each one of us was wrong in some ways, and my only mission in life from that time was to try and heal our relationship - nothing else seemed more important to me. I no longer looked at the issues in my life as problems that could not be solved. Instead I looked at them as challenges that had to be overcome. I started practicing my second degree level of Reiki not only on myself but I also sent healing energies to Chandran. I knew things were not going to change overnight. The damage that had happened, had taken a long time to come to breaking point, and so too, the repairing of our relationship would take time. I must give Reiki the time to slowly yet subtly show me the way to resolve it . It was almost six months since we had separated, and with the new found confidence in Reiki, I was sure the time for reunion was not far away. But Reiki also teaches that being obsessed with achieving results would be counter productive. I had to just do my bit and let things take their own course.
On several occasions, while driving out, I caught myself unconsciously taking the turn that took me past his Gold Gym, hoping all the time to catch a glimpse of him. I would then deliberately cruise slowly through the narrow lane, utterly unmindful of the furious honking behind.me. But alas I had no luck. But one day. while in a shopping mall, I spied him in the grocery department, and My God, he was really looking wonderful, and young as if age had totally left him free from its ravages. Just then he turned around, and caught me staring at him like a zombie. I quickly turned to look away, when he called out to me and I had to face him again, and look into his mesmerizing eyes. He walked up close to me and looking into my eyes, he smiled, took my hand and said “come Sudha, we need to talk, but not here, lets go to the coffee shop, please”. Before I could think of anything to say, he was leading me with my hand in his, to the café, just like old times – it was déjà vu all over again.
But although he looked really dashing there was something missing in him - the spark of happiness had gone out of his eyes. He looked at me so deeply, that I was almost afraid he would catch me blushing. Oh God ! how could he still have that effect on me: was I so vulnerable, and so transparent?
“Every time I think of that awful night, I hit you and shouted all kinds of obscenities at you, I have been wanting to come to you and apologize to you, but did not have the guts to do so. How could I have behaved like that, what had come over me ? I never could understand. The irritation, the taunting behaviour, the habit of degrading you in front of everyone - that man was not me, yet it was me. Where did I let all that love disappear? Your lovely face kept haunting me, questioning my very existence. I knew I was at fault, and I had to get out of this gutter which was killing me with its stink. I struggled with my work, with my ever pricking conscience, and my love for you. I could take it no longer, I had to do something and I did: I resigned from the company where I was working. Then, I took off ….revisited some of our favourite haunts in this world, trying to recapture the beauty of the places we enjoyed in our journeys together. I found the powerful fragrance of the love shared by us still lingering in each and every little corner and nook, every flower, every little gurgling stream, every glade, every tree under which we romanced : taunting me, as if, questioning me, “Yeah, where have you let all the love fly away, you fool, do something before it is too late, you moron “ : all singing in a chorus, : It was a stinging pain in my ears and, resounding like an echo in an empty room.”
Chandran continued, “I came back with the intention of talking to you and begging for your forgiveness, but till now I could not do it. But seeing you here all of a sudden, and seeing your beautiful and calm face, I felt I had to talk to you now, come what may. What do you say Sudha, please tell me can you forgive this monster, who still loves you and cannot think of a life without you”?
All this was so overwhelming and so sudden, that, for a minute I could not believe such a thing could be happening to me. But it was happening to us. I reached out for his hand - but wait a second, what was happening to me I could not reach him, my hand----- it was not able to touch his hand, he was drifting away from me, going away from me, farther and farther, very far……so far away. Why ?……Chandran, Chandran I was trying to shout out loud but no sound came from my lips, ! what was it ? a nightmare ? and then with the sound of crashing of cups and plates, I found myself too, crashing to oblivion………………..
( The characters portrayed in this narration are purely fictional : any resemblance to real persons is unintentioanl and is purely coincidental) (to be continued) |
|
|
