Category: The World

Imagined Realities

I read some books over and over again. I confess to being an Anglophile too considering the amount of time spent as a child reading about the English countryside. That love for English literature has not diminished. Enid Blyton, Agatha Christie, P G Wodehouse and Jane Austen may be gone, but the likes of Miss Read, J K Rowling, Jeffrey Archer, Stephen Fry, Gerald Durrell, Alexander McCall Smith and Jacqueline Winspear came in. It is why whenever I set foot in the United Kingdom, I suffer from an acute case of star-struckedness. There is a luminosity to my imagined version of the UK, even if the reality has been different in some cases. 

Scones & Jams

When I first ate a scone, I was a little let down. I’d read about scones and jams for decades, and had envisioned a rather elaborate affair waiting to overwhelm the senses. I remember walking into this little tea place in Oxford, bursting at the seams with excitement, and ordering scones and jams. I already was a little star-struck. I had never in my wildest dreams imagined that I could travel to Oxford, let alone order scones at a local tea-room. 

Imagined Realities

This is why I am always a little nervous when good books are made into movies, or good settings are translated to theme parks. They can be marvelous, or they can fail to live up to one’s imagination. The scones, I am sorry, did not live up my imagination. They were tasty enough – just not what I had imagined. Now, years later, the name ‘scone’ still conjures up misty hillsides and picnic baskets with clotted creams, and cucumber sandwiches, scones and jams, replete with berries and fruit. But I have managed to live with the earthly version being presented to me.

The same thing happened the first time I tasted Butterbeer in Harry Potter World at Universal Studios. I don’t know what I was expecting exactly, but it wasn’t that.

Life can be that way. Teaching you reality in funny ways. Oh well!

I felt the same when I saw the gazania flowers. Don’t get me wrong – I love the vibrant colors and the rather distinct kolam shape gazanias have. But when younger, not having access to the internet etc, the name inspired a rather more mystical and tremendous shape in my mind’s eye. Like the Brahma Kamalam flowers, or the moon-lilies, I dream of under the ocean. If there are such things, I am not sure how much they will love up to my imagined version of them. 

Which brings me to the virtual or artificial intelligence based realities.

AI Realities

Sometimes, as I am writing up a post, I try to imagine the AI generated image my post would produce, and I am, many times, disappointed. Sorry to see that most of the time the AI generated ones are like seeing the real scones after my imagined versions. But they are better than the stick figure atrocities that I was coming up with, so there’s that. 

I wonder how much of life is like that. Imaginations far better than realities. Maybe that is the real reason, humanity seeks to set store by entertainment. We have gone from myths, ballads, novels to movies, soap operas, sports shows, to social media, and short bursts of wisdom. Maybe all of this is really a quest to see how best human imaginations can stretch. Why magic seems to still take a hold of our imaginations. 

PS: I also have to admit that in a post where I am writing about human imagination being far superior and the AI image falling short, this post actually generated an image better than what I was imagining. Really – life can be a teacher with a sense of humor!

What do you think? Where have your imaginations been disappointed by the realities?

“Few people have the imagination for reality”

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Ostrich Philosophy: News to Peace

“I would like to be an ostrich, and just bury my head somewhere deep in the sand! “, I said reacting to another piece of breaking news. 

“What happened now?” said the husband. 

I mumbled and rambled, “Nothing new. Just expected but also so outrageous! Makes my blood boil. But like most of the folks at this point, I just feel resigned. Like I said want to be an ostrich – preferably in its natural habitat – halfway across the world from here!”

The husband laughed, and said, “Change of topic! What are you reading now?” 

Ah…he was going for safe bets, but no sir! This time, I was ready with a book that plunged right on. I was re-reading Persepolis – By Marjane Satrapi. It was our bookclub pick, and I realized why it remains one of my favorite books of all time. Marjane Satrapi’s sense of story-telling has a childlike sense of wonder. It is a coming-of-age story after all. But it is set against the backdrop of the increasingly regressive Islamic Revolution, the Iran-Iraq war, and the numerous humanitarian excesses that go with these situations.  Marjane Satrapi’s sense of humor, even in the telling of the most horrific scenes of 1970’s Iran is what makes the book a marvel.

I held the book up, and opened up to read : as luck would have it, my eyes landed on the announcement by the authorities that they would be shutting down Universities and higher learning was banned. 

FromthebookPersepolis:ByMarjaneSatrapi

The next day’s breaking news made me want to be an ostrich again. The Education Department’s funding was being revoked. “Did he read the book and decide what to do next?” I said, clanging the dishes with extra vigor while unloading the dishwasher. 

“Really! There must be some sort of book of ideas – some template to go by, no?” I said. I admit I was flummoxed by the uncanny Tyranny 101. On Tyranny – By Timothy Snyder’s book also got it right. 

Why isn’t there an equivalent for Peace 101? I suppose all the hard things in life have to be worked for and attained in the hard way, but for everything else there are rulebooks.

The Significance of Full Moon Names

Mooning About

“Come on! You need a light jacket, but we aren’t going very far.”

“I know we are going to see the moon! But can’t we just for a few minutes and then we can see it from here? Instead of going around the bend, and behind the trees, and through the gap in the houses on that lane?” 

“Yes I know. But if you wait a bit, you’ll see the silver moon, if you come now and dance through everything you just said, we’ll see a golden moon!” I shivered a bit at what was waiting for us at the end of the street. Even though I had just seen it.

“Oh wow!” the words were yanked out of the son’s mouth before he could stop himself. I understood that feeling. A golden full moon on a cool summer evening is truly mesmerizing. 

We stood there for a few moments just drinking in the magic from the golden moonlight. “Want to go for a short walk just looking at the moon?” I asked, and he nodded, not willing to pull his gaze away from the mystical golden orb. So, we meandered through the streets, our necks upturned towards the magic of the skies instead of looking where we were going. 

We entered the house, shining like full moons ourselves, a few minutes later,  flushed with the cool air and the luminous light of the full moon.

“We’ve been mooning about outside. Get it? Get it?” I said to the husband who had a slightly exasperated look on his face.

Oooo wwww ooooo!

“Oooo wwww ooooo!” Werewolf! Full moon tonight!” I said, and the pair of them rolled their eyes.

But that got me thinking, why was the January full moon called the Wolf Moon and the July full moon called the Buck Moon?

It turns out Gemini is just the thing to ask. So, here you go, fellow selenophiles!

Full Moon Trivia

  • January: Wolf Moon, named for the howling of wolves often heard during this cold month.
  • February: Snow Moon, reflecting the heavy snowfall often associated with this month. 
  • March: Worm Moon, named for the earthworms that emerge as the ground thaws.
  • April: Pink Moon, named for the pink wildflowers that bloom in North America.
  • May: Flower Moon, celebrating the blooming of flowers. 
  • June: Strawberry Moon, marking the time of strawberry harvest. 
  • July: Buck Moon, named for the new antlers that begin to grow on male deer. 
  • August: Sturgeon Moon, named for the sturgeon fish that are most readily caught in the Great Lakes. 
  • September: Corn Moon or Harvest Moon, marking the time of corn harvest and the start of the fall harvest season. 
  • October: Hunter’s Moon, a time for hunting before winter sets in. 
  • November: Beaver Moon, when beavers begin to prepare for winter by building dams.
  • December: Cold Moon, reflecting the cold winter temperatures.

The Joys of Library Browsing

Yap Yap, Chat Chat, Chop Chop!

“Enough yapping! Chop! Chop!” I said trying to herd the children out. We had worked hard to carve this time out for ourselves and I was excited. We talked the whole way there. Or rather, they yapped, and I listened. I can’t say I understood- but the number of phrases and words that seem to make no sense seems to increase over time. Age really is a funny thing. It takes everything mutable, garbles it with time, and presents a slightly unintelligible version to you.

“Anyway – excited?”

“Yes Mother!” They chanted. How one phrase can hold both a dutiful and a sarcastic response I don’t know, but that, right there is another thing the young seem to have down. Sigh.

Library Browsing

It seemed like a long time since we’d had a children’s book read-a-thon, and so off we were, to the library. We meandered through the library shelves each of us taking our time, wondering how long it would take us to find things once the reshelving was done.

Library browsing is one of the most under-rated pleasures of the world. We each came back with a stash of books in our hands, and picked out a sunny nook in which to curl up and read for just a few minutes before heading back home to hole up in our home.

If we run out of words – By Felicita Sala

One of my favorite books from this haul happened to be – If we run out of words – By Felicita Sala

Version 1.0.0

It is an innocent earnest worry of a child’s turned into a book. What if you run out of words to speak?

The increasingly exaggerated lengths to which the father would go to find words makes it a sweet story and finishes on a predictable, but heart-tugging phrase that remains unspoken. That is how you bring a smile to the face of children and adults reading the book. Well done Felicita Sala!

When there are words everywhere, words can be swords, pinpricks, thumps just as much as they can be balms of kindness and encouragement. I closed the book, and realized that fears, worries and anxieties come in so many forms. Speaking about them to the ones who matter is the key, says every wise one, but that remains the most difficult thing in the world. For don’t words spoken have to be heard?

The children (one a teenager and the other a young adult) picked up the book, and eloquently summed the book up “Duh! Bruh!”

Why the World Seems Smaller Today

“The Earth feels so small, doesn’t it?” I said it like it was a profound revelation.

The daughter looked up from fiddling on her phone. She briefly glanced out of the window to see where we were. I could almost see the thought process map itself out in her brain. If we are close enough to the destination, she could just nod and not respond. But if there was a while to go, responding did not seem a bad idea. I smiled.

“Calculating, my dear?” I said and gave her impish smile. She shot me a shrewd one back.

Then, with remarkable self control, she said, “What do you mean?”

So, I rambled on about how air travel has made the Earth smaller. “When I was young, airplanes were there, but I never thought I’d get on one, let alone travel to all these exotic places we’ve been to. “

“Mums-ie?” She pulled me back as I zoned out a bit. I laughed and said, “Yes – I mean, probably why reading felt like the best way to travel for all of us. The Voyages of Dr Doolittle, and Gerald’s Durrell’s Corfu series were made all the more entrancing thanks to the limited to slim chance of ever flying. But now – so many of us can go anywhere – with visa and money and flight tickets of course.”

“So .. Earth smaller?”

“Yep!”

“You do have a point. But isn’t that a good thing? Think about colonialism – it was enabled, and many horrendous things were done to the colonies because humans could very easily say – they are very different, and therefore not us. “

“You mean, conscience could be explained away?”

“Yeah…. But now, with education, google translate, and travel, you realize that a human being is a human being with all the range of emotions, flaws and strengths as anyone else, anywhere else. So, it is a better Earth too. Isn’t it?”

I nodded and thought about it. She was right of course, and I enjoyed her perspective.

While the world has become a smaller and more accessible place, it also means that our fortunes and misfortunes travel just as quickly. It was why Covid-19 shut the whole world down. A pandemic that spread so quickly, it stumped all of us: scientists, doctors, government officials, companies.

The way things are changing in the world is alarming too. Air spaces closed twice in the past month over two global events that affected millions – The Iran-Israel situation & The India-Pakistan situation.) When I thought of this, the Earth seemed like a formidable planet of distances indeed.

The daughter unaware of this inner squabbling raised her eyebrows when I said,“Hmm…even so, sometimes everything feels so far away. Must you go now? Can’t you fool around here with us for another few weeks?”

“Uh hm… Yes Mother. I am going tomorrow, but not that faraway – the Earth is small, remember?” , she said, and I laughed weakly.

The Joys & Jams of Plum Picking

Feeling Plum?

“Go on! Ask me How I am feeling.”

Eye roll.

“Just ask.”

“Fine! How are you feeling?”

“Plum!”

Then I laughed, and the children exchanged concerned glances at each other. Completely lost on them, of course. So, I set about explaining Plum minutiae to a mildly uninterested audience.

I have been thinking of P G Wodehouse during plummy times. (P G Wodehouse was called Plum by his close friends and family)

I have been thinking of little passages from Miss Read’s books as she wrote about making jams and chutneys for bazaars from the excessive plums and marrows during summertime.

How lucky country children are in these natural delights that lie ready to their hand! Every season and every plant offers changing joys. As they meander along the lane that leads to our school all kinds of natural toys present themselves for their diversion.

– Miss Read

I told the children about eating so many berries as children in the countryside in the Nilgiris, it made us slightly sick.  But, I also told them about how it was the most fulfilling thing in the world, and they rolled their eyes again.

An Excess of Plums

You see? We are having an excess of plums.

Some days I would gaze up at the branches – grateful for the bounty. Other days, I would step into a mushy one that plopped into my path and spattered and mutter to myself. Plum season is upon us, and nobody is spared. Neighbors, gardeners, cleaners, household helpers, friends, family. Everybody is gifted with plums. 

I stood one evening determined to make the best of the plum bounty, and set about making batches of plum pickle, plum jam, plum chutney, and plum juice. I also might’ve eaten a few plums. It was beautiful. The evening light was streaming in through the kitchen bay windows bathing all the world in a luminous glow. The plums were freely squirting their juices into the stovetops, the floors, the kitchen counters, my clothes, and the children stood around helplessly in the melee. 

“Amma – you’re going cuckoo! Can’t you just leave the plums?!”

I gasped for dramatic measure and said that prudent folks saved the excess. 

“Another 10 have fallen from the tree since you came in ½ an hour ago. Let it go!” said the daughter. Seeing that lunatic obstinate look on my face, she decided that the best thing to do was to leave me alone and took mocking videos of me instead.

I sorely regretted this plummy splash of enthusiasm a few hours later. I had sticky juice everywhere, a jar of jam, a jar of pickle and two bottles of sour juice. But I also had the back-breaking task of cleaning up the kitchen. The mops ran red, the washcloths turned pink, the tissues soaked and cleaned like they had never done before, and yet the kitchen was nowhere close to done.

I tell you. 

Black & Blue & Plum

The next day, I plucked and picked more plums and gave them to my friends. “Err…it’s okay! I have some!” they said.

“Oh! Sure – that’s nice. Don’t worry – I’ll walk over and give them to you.” I said smartly, putting the phone down before they could say no, and walked over.

“Would you like some blackberries?” said one of them, and I beamed at her. 

“Oooh! That’d be a nice change of pace from plums!” I said, and set about picking the blackberries and popping them in the mouth. The friend peeked into the bag and said, “Plums might make a change from blackberries!”

We looked at each other – lips stained with blackberry and plum juice and started laughing so hard, it was hard to stop. 

I’d call that a fruitful week-end, wouldn’t you?

Marine Magic

We had that hopeful gleam the moment one of us thought of it. Monterey Bay Aquarium. The one place we can all agree upon for a day trip in Summer. It has seaside charm, magical beings in a world so different from ours, and yet still ours, and somehow, manages to wrap you around its world every time.

There are a few new exhibits every time:  new inhabitants, new shows, new facts to learn, and the ethereal magic that stretches through time, space and water. 

The poetry is in the little moments.

When one gazes fondly as moon jellies bonk each other while drifting up and down, 

Or in watching the beautiful fractals in a porcupine jelly. 

The way the otters flips themselves in the water as they preen and play,

Or the way the flat ray cruises and slices through the waters.

The assured and sturdy movements of the giant turtles,

Even as hammerhead sharks and leopard sharks dart about.

The way the corals grow – miniscule and exquisite like little pieces of jewellery on the ocean’s floors,

Or the way the kelp forests sway like cathedrals catching and swirling the light from above. 

This is life.

This is magic.

Every time, there is the feeling of immense fullness of the soul, and of the visual. The summer is brimming with young explorers of the deep all wanting to touch and feel and gasp and squeal at the enchanted occupants of the oceans.

As always, we walked around trying to take in all the sensory inputs around – the quotations of the tides and the seas on the walls, the dynamics of the schools of fish, the eerie feeling of an unblinking fish eye.

One wall fascinated us all equally. The one that shows all the different careers one could have while studying and mapping the vast oceans of our beautiful Earth. The oceans may be the last frontiers left to explore, and the allure of the oceans is a yearning of the soul.

Exploring Dragons: Myths to Movies

No!

“You’re inviting me to a movie?” I asked, incredulous. 

Usually, I am begging to go to the movies with them, and the response is “No!”. Curt no’s, polite no’s, humorous no’s. But ‘No’. The fault, I admit, is on both sides. I fall asleep before the movie starts, but the theatres make you fall asleep even before the movie starts. What’s with all the dimming of the lights, and the trailers for every movie they are thinking of releasing in the next decade? What’s a good, hard-working woman to do in a comfortable reclining seat at the end of a long day with some inconsequential music playing in the background, and the popcorn butter doing its magic in the old intestines, huh?

I start with a simple meditation technique involving closing the eyelids for a few beats of music longer, and then a few frames of trailer longer, and before I know it, the magical lands open to the subconscious mind throw open the cosmic doors, and I float in with a smile on my lips. The theatre hears a dramatic hiss at this point in the proceedings: “Amma! Get up! The movie started and you missed the opening!” 

Anyway, this time, the dragons of sleep may have made valiant attempts to snatch my consciousness to their realms, but I was firm, and resolute. I was going to watch the dragons take the sheep in the movie, not in my dreams. 

“Wake me up when the movie starts!” I said before starting the m. technique.  

“If you don’t get up, I’ll…I’ll”

“What? Tickle me?! Please!” said I, and drifted off. 

I was happy to learn that I was invited because the movie was good for me: not too much violence, has a happy ending, is not too depressing, and has dragons and humans in a beautiful setting. 

How to Train your Dragon 

Based on the novels by Cressida Crowell, this is a wonderful story of a boy who seems to be a reluctant heir to the vikings chief, and a soft-hearted, intelligent misfit in a bunch of knuckleheads who all value brawn over brain. I have always liked the series, and when I read Cressida Crowell’s article on her childhood influences, it only made the series dearer.

However, I still do not understand the impulse of large studios to remake the same stories over and over again. Did you really have to take the same movie again? 

Does Harry Potter really need a remake this soon?

Our Fascination with Dragons

In any case, the fascination of humankind with dragons is millennia old and the number of dragon stories is near inexhaustible. So, I am sure there isn’t exactly a dearth of dragon content. 

How could human imaginations in the absence of social media have imagined similar creatures (Fire breathing, of giant aspect and size ) the world over? 

Our tales speak of dragons across time and geographies too. 

Ancient Aliens: Mythical Dragons Across the Ages

“Speak politely to an enraged dragon” – JRR Tolkien

The metaphors of inner dragons are just as widespread

“You can’t map a sense of humor. Anyway, what is a fantasy map but a space beyond which There Be Dragons? On the Discworld, we know that There Be Dragons Everywhere” – Terry Pratchett

“This Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he’s more than a creeping thing.”  – Shakespeare. It describes the transformation of the play’s protagonist, into a figure of immense power and ferocity. 

With all the imagery, humor and wit we have humankind must continue on in its quest to slay its inner and outer dragons, with the motto of Hogwarts in mind

‘Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus’ – which means ‘Never tickle a sleeping dragon‘ – J K Rowling 

P.S: The children did tickle me when the movie started, and I am happy to say I enjoyed the movie.

Lessons from Nature: Embracing Our Unique Struggles

Burdened Biologies

I took the son to the pediatrician for a wellness check: Something that was simply not there in our childhood. You only went to the doctor if you had a problem, not to be assured that you didn’t, or find that you may have one. I quite like the strides in preventive medical care. 

The pediatrician asked the son his age, and prepped for his talk on teenage anxieties and stresses. He told him about how sometimes / oftentimes, one feels that whatever they do, it is never enough. They are never good enough. Society is always expecting more from you. This is not good enough, that person is better, their clothes are better, their smile is better and on and on.

I listened with rapt attention. Did this man have superpowers? The ability to time-travel, or apparate across cultures, places, geographies? Did he overhear what was being said in social circles? Or was this another thing that simply unifies the human experience the world over? Our burdened biologies.

Something about the way the doctor said it made me pause and listen. Was he aware that he wasn’t just talking to the teenager in the room, but to the parent as well? 

“Before you say anything – it isn’t anything specific to your son, it is something we like to educate all our teenagers about. These are things that add to toxic stress, and that can create other problems as well you know.” he said, kindly.

Hearing the pediatrician talk about these things with the teenage son made me feel – well, I don’t know how exactly it made me feel, for it was one of those moments when I felt the opposites war in the old fishbowl. For one, I was happy that they were making children aware of this. But on the other hand, I was also disappointed that this was something that was ever acknowledged as a problem in our childhood. No doctors, teachers gave voice to this feeling all these years, decades even. 

Atelophobia and Allodoxaphobia

There is a word for this:

Atelophobia. The fear of never being good enough.

Many of us went through our childhood (and adulthood in many cases) completely oblivious to this. 

There is a strange comfort in knowing that one is never alone in one’s struggles, isn’t there?

Those of us who grew up in India, were also given liberal doses of Allodoxaphobia.

Allodoxaphobia: fear of what other people think of you. 

Nature Shows the Way

That evening, the son and I sat under one of our favorite trees – wizened, misshapen, and marvelous. We admired the tree: It’s every bulge was a statement, every misplaced twig a surge of hope, every lump in its trunk a bold curve, every branch a home for birds, every leaf a fine producer of food, every ray of sun that passes through it a filter to enhance its beauty.

Nature shows us with every tree and every flower that we are enough. As we are. No two trees are shaped the same way, but nobody questions their enormous usefulness to life. Every plant’s purpose is different, and somehow, together, they created the conditions for life to thrive on Earth.

Yet – in spite of all these simple lessons from nature, humanity cannot stop burdening our biologies with unnecessary stress. What can we say? 

Finding Calm Amidst the Chaos of Life

May seemed to me an especially fast merry-go-round. The spinning was fun, the laughter for all those involved loud, and the merriment infectious. But as June came around, I had the feeling of being dizzy without the fun bits. The world still seemed to be spinning, but the merry-go-round had stopped. Life had resumed. Normal life had resumed, I mean. 

One rare afternoon, I sat trying to soak in the quiet of the evening, and felt strange. I usually relish these moments of solitude. I reached for my books, and found that the mind and body were racing far too much for quiet contemplation. Even though the book I had in my hand was a perfectly good one on Writing, exhorting me to pay attention to the following aspects of life (Attention, Wonder, Vision, Surprise, Play, Vulnerability,  Restlessness, Connection, Tenacity, Hope), I could not slow down enough to take it all in. 

I gave in to the impulse of watching Instagram reels, and got a ridiculous song stuck in my head, I went into Facebook, and scrolled – joyless and felt more drained by the end of it. That is when I knew that what I needed to get back to a slower pace of activity was to reach for a tried-and-tested book: Changes in Fairacre – By Miss Read. I took a deep breath as I entered the village of Fairacre.

For some folks, music does the magic. The mother-in-law said she listened to Amaidhiyaana Nadhiyinilae Odum – a tamil song whose lyrics evokes the imagery of a smooth flowing river and all its associated imagery. I can see how that can be a calming influence on the senses. 

For Yours Truly, it was a Fairacre book, By Miss Read. The slow and endearing life a village school mistress leads, is therapeutic. Maybe it takes me back to the idyllic times of my own childhood – growing up in a small village community, where both my parents were school teachers. The imagery she evokes of the beautiful countryside makes you think of the maxim: 

Nature never hurries and yet accomplishes everything – Lao Tzu.

Nevertheless, that evening when my restless legs stepped out for a walk, I forced myself to slow down, to feel the breeze, to look at the rays of sunshine shining like little sparkling diamond strings through the evening air. The smell of sage and lavender crushed in my palms like a beautiful balm for the soul. 

It helped but it still took some time. For those of us who refuse to do the hard work of trying to still our senses and the world around us, the merry-go-round can keep going. That night I thought of Miss Read’s observations on modern children (her books were written a good 30 years ago, but it seems truer today than ever before) 

“What I do feel that the modern child lacks, when compared with the earlier generation, is concentration, and the sheer dogged grit to carry a long job through.”

― Miss Read, Village Diary: A Novel

Truly chastened, I settled in with a mellow light throwing a comforting gleam on my bedside table, took a deep breath, and immersed myself as best as I could in village life. Sturdy, slow, and reassuring.