Travel – Page 3 – Nourish-n-Cherish

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.

The Magic King of the Coconut Kingdom

The Cognitive Model

“What were you two yapping about and giggling about the whole time?” the husband said, peering into a photograph at the upanayanam ceremony.

He might have been short of breath after reciting and repeating endless mantras, but the children & I were short of breath trying to hold in our laughter several times – mainly because we had more time on our hands and little to do while on stage.

“Well – which time? We got into trouble several times with everyone!” I giggled.

“Pick one!”

“Well Fine! I’ll tell you. This is when this fellow said, ‘If ever there was a time to run a cognitive interpretation model and turn the chanting into tonal bits, and then try to get a translated gist, this is it.’ – That was so like him, that I couldn’t stop laughing. And then everybody shushed me!”

The husband gave the son an amused look, and then said, “Was that what he was saying? It sounded like a song!”

“Well – yes, he was singing. What were you singing?”I said, rounding on the son. I remember the whole hall giving me the pursed-lip and furrowed-brow routine, for his lip sync was clearly off from what his father was droning on the other side of me.

“Oh – that!”

“Please don’t tell me you were singing Hamilton!” I said.

“Well – phew! Then I won’t get in trouble. No! I was not singing Hamilton, Amma!”

The Magic Coconut Kingdom

I raised my eyebrows and he said, in a somewhat more abashed tone of voice, “First, I thought the coconut looked funny – like a wizard coconut, with a magic hat. The king of the coconut kingdom!” he puffed his chest out, and his ribs pushed out from under his shirt.

They had decorated that coconut very fancifully. I remember thinking to myself that the coconut looked marvelous. Even without all of this, the coconut is a swell thing, but with some stripes of ash across its face, a huge red dot on its handsome visage, and a silk turban like hat, dashing was the word. #Kalasam

“So, anyway, I imagined the coconut using its magic powers to fight the flames from the fire.. The coconut king, friends with the liquid ghee, used to fan the fire onwards and well – you know how it is, right amma?”

I nodded indeed. The coconut, in combination with the fumes, and the silks on one’s body is fertile ground for fanciful thinking. The chanting in the background can be very soothing for the imagination to pound on.

Epiphanies of Spiritual Visions?

Religious rituals in Hinduism have a curious character – they rely heavily on the men to perform them, but need the women to hover and lend support at all times. The upanayanam ceremony is no different. The son had nothing to do but indulge in his childish dreams for the first hour or so.

I wrote about it briefly here: Upanayanam: Insights into a traditional ceremony

Behind every beautiful moment are hundreds of moments leading up to it. The decorations, the coming together of everything in one swoop, the invites, availability of people and dates, and so much more. For one event to happen, even if the hero/heroine of the event is unaware, it means combined efforts from many people – mostly loved ones.

When finally it all comes together, there is much chatter, excitement, frazzled feelings, tension, drama, joy, laughter. Then, just when you wonder what to make of it all, out of the blue, a moment of rare insight, like peeking into a well, and catching the glimpse of a fish for an instant, appears before you.

If it was the coconut that gave that to the son, so be it.

For me, it was the son’s quip on the cognitive model to apply to the tonal information.

I hope the husband and daughter found that moment too. They must have judging by the looks of surprised happiness the pictures seem to get a glimpse of.

Nilgiris: Nature’s Abundance on an Early Drive

“We need to leave by 4:30 a.m. if we are to beat the traffic!” the brother said.

There were enthusiastic nods. I kept the alarm for 3:30 a.m, confident in our abilities to get going that early in the morning. After all, there is nothing as pleasant as a drive up to the Nilgiris from Bangalore.

The route passes through two beautiful national forest reserve areas – Bandipur and Mudhumalai. The hills are usually green and welcoming at this time of year. Early summer in the Nilgiris is a joy – there are flowers blooming everywhere, the rivers and streams are flowing with healthy levels of water, and all of life seems like it should be: Full of beauty and abundance.

I had quite forgotten the true splendor of a gulmohar tree in full bloom, but oh! What a joy to see these resplendent looking trees!

You can spend all day gazing up at the branches – all the different ways in which the light dances and trickles through the very orange blossoms, all the different shapes the branches have spread themselves – no two trees the same, yet distinctive enough that they cannot be misunderstood for another tree.

The brother who is always in his element when he is driving anywhere other than city roads, shook his head as he saw me bouncing in my seat. He pulled over by a side road, and if you were to ask me the previous evening to imagine this road, I would not have been able to do it justice. I grew up in the Nilgiris, and have visited many times in the past two decades, but every time the hills surprise me (mostly good ways, but the increasing population and traffic snarls contribute to the bad ways)

I tumbled out of the car, my heart bursting with song. Luckily it was just my heart that was singing, for who wants to frighten a bunch of elephants taking a calm dip in the Moyar River?

The peacocks cooing in the distance provided a musical backdrop.

As we headed back to the winding road of 36 hairpin bends, all of the forest seemed to have risen. There were peacocks, sambar deer and spotted deer, iguana-like creatures, monkeys, langurs, and elephants. I cannot think of another experience where the soul feels as nourished or sated.

By the time we had passed through the forests, we had been filled with the beautiful imagery of flora and fauna of the Nilgiri Hills. It is always so humbling to call this marvelous place home along with the thousands of creatures who live more unobtrusively in these parts.

The cheeky road signs only added to the allure of the morning forest scenes.

“Watch for deer crossing the road, remember the road is crossing their home!”

“Attention: Crocodiles in the River – do not swim. Survivors will be prosecuted.”

The Magic of Shared Success

I am grateful I went to school for our high school reunion after all these years.

I have always loved the military traditions the school is steeped in, but seeing it all come together in such a spectacular fashion as a spectator was magical.

The band was spectacular as ever, and after coming back to ‘normal life’, I miss the background music of the school band at all times of day. The band room was always full of enthusiasts – drummers, sax players, buglers, bagpipers, and a whole bunch of noises unrelated to music too. There was band practice in the mornings, band classes during the day, beating the retreat practice in the evenings, so there was music wafting in and around our lives at all times when school was in session.

There were sports, parade practices, and PT displays in our day too. But seeing the levels to which these shows have risen in their execution and creativity was enough to make my heart sing.

There were morning shows, evening shows and late night ones. Shows in which the children and staff had worked tirelessly all year long to pull off a brilliant endeavor. Sunset sensations featuring Yoga shows, laser shows, band displays etc were brilliantly done.

The Parade was a huge success as well. The Beating Retreat signaling the close of all the festivities was just as a marvelous.

There is something about these programs involving hundreds of children that always gives me goosebumps. The strain of collaborative success running through all of these, is nothing but inspirational. Everybody has to ensure that they and everybody else is up to the mark, and work towards making it so. Or the whole troop/band/display fails.

Why do more schools, or corporates for that matter, have activities like these?

Years later, when we reflect on these experiences, there is nothing but affection for those of us who worked and excelled together, and what better outcome in life is there to achieve?

“We cannot seek achievement for ourselves and forget about progress and prosperity for our community…Our ambitions must be broad enough to include the aspirations and needs of others, for their sakes and for our own.”

— Cesar Chavez

Reflecting on 30 Years at a High School Reunion

30 years 30 minutes

When we look back on life – what do you tell those who knew you when you were but a little girl? Some had grown into more distinguished versions of themselves, few were hardly recognizable (especially those who had embraced facial hair – mustaches, beards, and the like), and a rare few looked far younger than their biological age.

There was a strange moment when I asked a fellow classmate, “I am sorry, I am unable to recognize you – can you remind me who you are?”

“Oh come on Saumya!” He said, and I felt a flush creep up my cheek.

“Not the right response man!” I said laughing, as he reminded me with a helpful anecdote to place him.

In 30 years, a lifetime has passed, and yet felt like a heartbeat.

Sounds cliched I know. Probably the thing that everyone who has attended a high school reunion feels.

As I gazed fondly around the room taking in the whirlwind of activity and the people who were at school with me, I felt gratitude first for all the memories. Even the bitter ones seemed to have attained a bitter-sweet tinge to it, which did not quite seem possible at the time.

When we left school 3 decades ago, everything felt sharp – in a way that teenagers can feel. The angst, the turbulence, the weight of expectations, the sense of trepidation for what lies ahead. And then somehow, life happened in those moments of angst. The years rolled by. Careers were made, lives were built, children were birthed and raised, and through it all, our families and friends bore the thrum of Lawrence School almost like background music.

It was fantastic to see where life had led us all in the three decades since. Many had embraced growth, some had endured it, and a few had denied it. But we were all swimming across the river and continuing to brave the currents. Some of us were still in the whirlwinds of the swift currents, some were looking forward to the quiet moments of water lapping around the shores on the opposite side. Regardless of where we were in life though, there was an enormous affection.

I remember thinking as a girl why the Old Lawrencians made such a fuss about their reunions decades later – they all seemed to be so happy to be there with their hair greying and limbic nimbility dwindling. I understand now.

People Currents

It was curious to see the patterns emerging after all these years. How we sought out the people we liked, had a polite curiosity about the people we didn’t, and found out about the ones we respected after all these years. Finding out about those who had exceeded expectations, those who braved life’s storms with equanimity and grace, and those who had simply let themselves go in the intervening years.

As we traded our life stories, it was humbling to see all the different and varied ways in which the world had tested and tried us over the past few decades. Love makes us endure horrendous things just as much as it makes us do inspiring things. It is no wonder there is a Love door in the Department of Mysteries in the Harry Potter Universe!

Life truly is a mystic game. I was reminded several times of the quote by Leo Tolstoy:

All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way

Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

As we took several walks down the memory lane, each one had recollections of their life in boarding school that was unique: sometimes traumatic, other times funny, many times reflections on moments of personal growth and realization. I don’t think I’ve laughed this much over inane things since adulthood.

Just for that, it was all worth it.

April Highlights: Poetry Month and Stress Awareness

April is a beautiful month of Spring. It also is Poetry Month, Stress Awareness Month, and plays host to several days such as Earth Day, World Reading Day, International Dance Day, and we found out quite recently, World Quantum Day.

Trying to accommodate all these different aspects into reading and experiences can be quite the adventure if you let it.

For Stress Awareness Month, we released the fourth episode of Sitare Spotlight. This time, our guest was Salima Banu Iezzey. Salima is a fitness coach, adventurer and nutritionist. The conversations with her were a good reminder for all the tenets of good living. Simple things we can do for daily well-being, bigger adventure goals and healthy eating. Please check it out here:

Sitare Spotlight Ep.4: Salima Banu Iezzey on Fitness, Adventure & Wellbeing

https://youtu.be/Tpirxjy_u8U?si=2-3P_Q7ltAgjpChA

For Poetry Month, apart from dipping into poetry collections from time to time, this time I also read about the life and times of Emily Dickinson. It was fascinating to see how the few poems of hers that did make it to publication during her lifetime were published anonymously by her friends and family members.

Book: Becoming Emily – the life of Emily Dickinson – Krystyna Poray Goddu (what a fascinating way to spell Krystyna?)

It was only after her death that her friend and niece got her poems published – a little tug of war between them to see who had access to more poems. It is also interesting to note that like Jane Austen, Emily Dickinson too hailed from a family that valued education, and somehow, even during those times of limited financial independence for women, were unmarried. That probably explains the prodigious work they were able to turn out in their lifetimes.

On Earth Day I gazed down upon Earth as we took off and flew over arid deserts, lush green forests, snowy stretches, oceans brimming with life, on my travels. All the time marveling at humankind and our ability to create a safe mode of transport in the air when we neither have the wings nor the air-borne buoyancy required to pull it off. Our innovation helping us gaze over the beautiful planet and peer into the maps being flashed on the screens”

Flying over Deer Lake, Cat Lake, Big Trout Lake, Sam Lake, Kingfisher lake, Wunnumin Lake – past Saskatchewan and Ontario

Quaktaq – Past Hudson Bay – where I remembered reading about the Great Bear Sea and the Arctic Unicorns (Narwhals)

Then I zoomed and chuckled over whimsical, interesting and beautiful names: Pikangikum, Quaktaq, Akulivik Puvirnituk.

One of the many futures of AI innovations may whisper in my head the meanings or origins of each of these names, but for now, it was enough for me to muse. Imagine nonsensical little things about their etymology, the languages, or the peoples who named them. I wonder why we don’t spend more time as amateur cartographers, naming the little nooks and corners of our daily walks. I remember telling someone to meet me at Reflection Pond, and then remembering that there was no Reflection Pond on the map. It was simply a name the children and I had come up for the dear pond on one of our many strolls. It was the time of sunset, the pink and orange hues above our heads were beautifully reflected in the serene waters below, and we sat there, each of us lost in our own reflections.

Musical March

March is one of the most beautiful months in the Bay Area. Poets have tried over the years to capture some of the rapture of the month. But even poets such as Emily Dickinson (Dear March—Come in), Or William Wordsworth ( Written in March) seem to do the month justice.

Maybe they lived in colder climes, and the month did not yet burst forth in glory the way it does in California. You see? This is the month of rainbows, clouds and sunsets, golden california poppies, fields of yellow flowers, green grass knolls, sunshine and rain, oranges, cherry blossoms…I could literally go on and on.

The time change happens in the first week of March, and suddenly, cold and bleak evenings seem to shed their winter cloaks and don resplendent spring robes billowing in the wildflower scented breeze. The squirrels are chippier, the birds chirpier, and the breezes gentler.

A run along the river/stream by our home is a joy to endure. There are many places in the trail where the heart bursts with joy. All around you are gentle green hills adorned with wildflowers, the rivers are flowing, the birds are nest-building, and all of nature seems to be in one harmonious, vibrant orchestra.

It is so fitting that the month hosts lesser known festivals for the two things that appeal to the nourish-n-cherish household: whimsical & geeky. St. Patrick’s Day in the Jungle & Pi Day

St. Patrick’s Day in the Jungle

The son & I listened to Irish music on the way to school this morning. The music had us humming along even though we were sleepy. I came home and opened one of the favorite books of mine, St. Patrick’s Day in the Jungle. My friend, Krishna Srinivasan , worked on the musical track for the book St. Patrick’s Day in the Jungle. It has the same vibrant quality to it.

This is the sort of music that makes you peer out to see if a rainbow is there, and if the birds and animals are playing hide-n-seek too. Not to mention the sweet voice of the daughter, who has lost the childish intones in that beautiful book now. So, please do give a listen to the books, and enjoy the music, narration, and pictures for this story – even if you are having a stern day full of important things to do.

Also, any recommendations for Irish music, March poetry, and the general splendidness of Spring is welcome.

Sonder and Saudade: Reflections on Travel and Books

Sonder

Traveling anywhere in the holiday season brings this fact to the fore. Airports, railway stations, bus stops, freeways – every place is packed with people, more people and more and more people. It was faintly unnerving at times to see this many people out in the world, all seemingly busy doing their many things. How many of them thought deeply, what did they do to occupy themselves, earn a living, attend to their loved ones? How many of them were loving and giving, and how many selfish and cruel?

That feeling of realizing the sentience of our fellow beings can be especially acute when traveling in crowded places. There is a beautiful word for it: sonder.

But wherever you were: one thing was apparent. Business was thriving. Clothing stores, eateries, perfumeries, jewelry stores – they dotted every city, country and airport. One time, I remember gazing out the window as we rode from one end to the diagonally opposite end of the city, and seeing shops after shops after shops. There was an apparent unending need for clothing and electronics, for consumption. One cannot help wondering about the ecological impact of all this, but there you are. ‘Better’ means the old has to go somewhere, and make place for the new. Maybe the next wave of innovations will be in making biodegradable plastics, electronics and clothing. After all, the waste that we are generating now can hardly be a scalable problem.

Lack of book stores in all the airports, cities

Even as I gazed out through the window taking in the local sights though, one thing sent a pang through me: the lack of bookstores anywhere was truly tragic. I felt their absence keenly. I had asked my siblings to fit in a visit to the bookstore. The only one in the vicinity was a little like a wild goose chase. The shop had moved they said, you cannot see the billboard from road they said. When finally, we found it, the reason was apparent. It was tucked away underground, as if hidden away from population. Only if you truly had the magical three things, could you find it: the will, the means, and the luck.

The bookstore had a passionate but regretful owner. “No space madam. Only so many books!” He said, gesturing apologetically to the small collection he had. To be fair, the little store had a fair amount of shelf space for children’s books (maybe those are the ones people are actually buying), but other fare was slim pickings. They were a few translated classics (which was a new section I admit) – it was heartening to see A Hundred Years of Solitude translated into Tamil. We picked up some books including a Tamil version of 1984 to donate to our local library in the USA.

The Hidden Bookshops of Timbuktu

But it all felt like the hidden bookshops of Timbuktu.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timbuktu_Manuscripts

How many malls, streets covered with stores, and yet for intellectual stimulation, one had to either go scrounging or online? It was the same in many airports too. Perfumes, alcohol, watches, jewelry, clothing, chocolates, coffee, burgers: you could find these everywhere you turned, but good old fashioned books were tucked away in a corner (if at all), and hard to find.

What would it take for every coffee store, every clothing store, every jewelry store to have a reading nook that people could browse and buy books if they wanted? Wouldn’t that be marvelous? A tiny art nook that one could spend time creating their own art and craft while others shopped? I know reluctant shoppers would gladly accompany their friends and family if they could be tempted with the right incentives.

Was that utopian thinking?

Image: The beautiful hotel in which we stayed in Zurich that had a large marvelous library in its lobby. My heart sang, my spirits danced, and my soul settled, here in the presence of greatness!

Saudade

Our own town in US lost its bookstores to the great Amazonian sweep a decade ago. But luckily stores like Target or Costco still have a small pecking section for those really wanting to buy books or see them before picking them up.

Oh books! When did you go from being ubiquitous to precious to rare?

Could this be referred to as Saudade? That feeling or yearning for lost experiences?

Embracing Nostalgia & Innovation in Switzerland

Is Nostalgia Good?

The trip over the winter break seemed to have a fair share of nostalgia. It reminded me of this scene in Inside Out – 2 where the teenage brain is filled with a whole new range of new emotions: ennui, embarrassment, guilt, anxiety, nostalgia etc. When Nostalgia comes in, they all tell the poor emotion that the girl is perhaps too young for nostalgia and I remember laughing. So what does that say about us now that we are nostalgic?!

Switzerland

Twenty three years after we’d last visited Switzerland, we went there again. I am not sure it felt like 23 years had elapsed between the last time we’d been there and now, but the magic was still there. The US has spoilt us in the intervening years with its spots of unimaginable scenic beauty, so that the awe that I had on my first visit had subsided somewhat. After all, 23 years ago, it was the first time I was reveling in a snow covered countryside.

For someone who had only seen pictures of it, or seen the Himalayan snow from afar, the joys of freshly fallen snow cannot be described. Add a happy newly-wed husband to the mix, and there can be no higher form of magic.

“The first snow is like the first love. Do you remember your first snow?”

Lara Biyuts

Even so, this time around, it was still unimaginably beautiful.

There were a great many things to love in Switzerland in the winter. For instance, the rains and snowfall that swept the entire nation in one grand stroke. We are used to localized rainfall, and maybe slightly larger areas being affected at once, but it was brilliant to see it raining all across Switzerland one evening. We knew because we drove from Geneva to Spiez via Bern and Lausanne through the pouring rains and it never let up. By the time we reached Bern, it had started to snow mildly making it a beautiful ride.

“The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?”

― JB Priestley

The Magic of Snow

The feeling of getting up to a snow covered landscape, as overnight the skies worked their magic, is breath-taking.

When first you open the curtains and look out into the world outside blanketed in snow, there is a sense of the precious, the divine, and the surreal. How could a cold brown, green and gray world be transformed into one of such purity and innocence overnight? One must be lucky to witness the first heavy snowfall of the season. The transformation could lead to closed roads, snow chains and winter storms, yes, but it could also lead to an expansive imagination of our senses. Our senses, so often honed to look inwards, and be busy as we let moment after moment flit by us, suddenly seems to hold in its power the ability to remain still, quiet and the beauty to examine the infinite within and around us.

The simple pleasures of blowing smoke out your mouth, of watching the bare tree branches glitter and sparkle with the new snow, of seeing beautiful hillsides blanketed in fresh snow never gets old. That is always joyous I think. And life, marvelous life, in these environments! It was astounding how we were standing atop the very top of the Jungfraujoch – nicknamed the Top of Europe, feeling like we can never feel warm again in the cold that was enveloping us, while ravens were enjoying the lift of the winds there to have a perfectly nice day. No thermals, jackets or socks for these birds – no sir! Just a swirl and twirl of the wind would do.

Really! Lessons of joy and resilience can be found anywhere, anytime if only we care to look.

Embracing Innovation: Automobiles in the past two decades

Automobiles have come such a long way in 23 years – ABS, automatic lane detection systems, navigational systems, Google Assistant for cars. They are game changers – we had rented an XC90, and it was truly amazing in its capabilities.

No more fumbling with paper maps, wondering how long it would take to go from Place A to Place B etc. For those of us who hark back to the simpler times, this is one arena in which I would not. Technology companies have made navigational capabilities so fantastic, one wonders how we managed before the advent of these technologies – maybe that’s why we sat around singing sad songs lost in the countryside, or fumbling about and trying to draw rabbits out of stars to help guide us through.

Verdict:

This nostalgia is good. The power of the infinite beauty held in each snowflake, that is able to transcend time is very good.

Journey Through Timezones: 15 Destinations in 15 Days

In what turned out to be the journey of clocks – we managed to visit 15 places in as many days over three distinct timezones. I wondered where we were, how we got up, and how we made it from one place to another at all. But it seems we did, and we made it in one piece back to our home, so all is well.

Sometimes, I’d get up – the biological clock warring with the physical ones, and the expectations of the day starting in whichever language, country you were in. Orienting oneself always seemed to take a few minutes. I loved the sensation of relief as one realized one was supposed to be on vacation – so it must be alright.

Pack Mules

Packing for a European trip along with an Indian one seems good on paper but involves logistics that would have had a royal ensemble perplexed. With baggage restrictions, it turns out that nothing prepares us for two different cultures like this:

One requires thermals, caps, gloves, socks, closed-toe shoes, sweaters and jeans
The other requires sarees, in-skirts, blouses, salwar kameezes, cotton kurtis, sandals, and jewellery.

Planes, trains and automobiles

For you see? We also seemed to use every mode of transportation available: planes, trains and automobiles. (The boats were given a sad miss on this trip), though there were plenty of lakesides in which to catch our breath.

We travelled by trains in India, slept through the night on berths, shot our heads out into the cool morning air as he watched the moon shine through the countrysides. We travelled by trains in Switzerland, where the freshly fallen snow on the countrysides made it all look like we had woken up in a picture postcard.

We travelled by automobiles – in deft contraptions boasting of 4 wheel drives, automatic braking, abs-something, in hilly regions both in India and Switzerland.

We braved the holiday crowds in airports and felt for the airline staff dealing with large swaths of humanity who all seem to have decided to take a holiday just then on an airplane.

Trains

One time, I woke up as a night train in India jolted me awake from a semi-state of sleep. Then I remembered why I was semi-awake. The son had gone to use the restroom minutes prior, and I suddenly felt wide awake. Could the jolt have meant … but mere seconds later, the fellow came back beaming like the waxing moon outside, “Amma! Luckily I had not yet let go when the train jolted – otherwise, my shoes would have definitely been gone!” he said.

I threw my head back laughing, and couldn’t stop for a few minutes. It was his first experience on Indian Railways for on overnight stint, and he was excited to be in the middle berth, and everything from how the iron chains held a person’s weight, to the loos, to the open doorways seemed to fascinate him.

Planes

Another time, we were prodded out of our console screens by our excited co-passenger. She was a professional photographer of sorts (who was also a nurse), and she took a picture of the clouds outside our airplane window to show us what we were seeing. She had identified it correctly – we had a brilliant look at the dancing skies of the night over the Arctic circle, and we caught the aurora borealis in its glory. It was marvelous.

Automobiles

The ability to catch a marvelous sunrise over the Swiss Alps, or to catch a glimpse of an elephant by the roadside was all the magic required for the automobile sections. We managed to eat exotic fruit in Kerala (nongu), and stop for a quick snacks by the roadside in India. It was all a-thrilling, till we found ourselves snoozing on the uber-ride home after all of it.

We travelled by planes from one continent to the next in the peak holiday season, braving crowds, and delays, and cacophonous announcements. How we managed to get from one place to another inspite of all the things conspiring to derail things was beyond us, but we were grateful for it all. Once we landed back home in San Francisco, the very air around us seemed to ease us into being.

It also seemed like the problems we had temporarily left behind, were lurking on the corner of our home, and ambushed us as soon as we came in.

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The Cognitive Model

The Magic Coconut Kingdom

Epiphanies of Spiritual Visions?

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