Tag: Travel

The Magic of Waves, Birds and Beach Theories

August rolled around, (and well, a week into August, ) I realized that I had not written a single post. As I racked my mind to see what I’d like to write about, I found my brain in a blissful state of blank.

You see, as August rolled in, we found ourselves welcoming the month lolling on beaches, in art fairs, and in friends’ backyards playing games, chatting and soaking in the summer sunshine. All perfectly pleasant, remarkably blaze, and highly recommended activities. 

Wave Theories

One day at the beach, we walked – a jagged path dodging waves, chatting of wave dynamics and such. The predictions on the reach of small waves, vs the bigger ones proved to be a particularly engaging activity. It was curious to see how many times the smaller waves reached the farthest as though they didn’t believe in bravado and overt shows of strength, but simply did what needed to be done. The big waves made huge splashes, but fizzled out quicker. Very few were impressive in both size and reach. 

It also led to some hilarious moments remembering old professors drone on about Wave Theory.

Bird Theories

We watched hundreds of seagulls take to the skies for no apparent reason, and come back together for the same reason.

  • Could there have been a call to duty that was rendered unnecessary?
  • Were there portals for the gullible opening? (Get it? Get it?)
  • How much we creatures need to communicate with one another.

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Books at the Beach

I also found myself reading my first book by Salman Rushdie:Two Years, Eight Months, & Twenty Eight Nights

I found the book a good one to read at the beach: It feels possible to imagine jinns who made love with humans 800 years ago, and magic portals opening up to let the worlds in, while there. After all, there is an infinite sense of possibilities while lying calmly on a beach and reading. 

Sand Castle Theories

After all, it is where we build sand castles, and let our imaginations run wild:

  • Could it be as a volcano erupting 300 years ago?
  • The moats around the castle could have been the battlefield of a thousand troops. 
  • The secret passageways within the sand castles could be the architects way to ensure people could flee.

Oceansides and beaches may just be the magic we all need in our lives every now and then.

“The sea can do craziness, it can do smooth, it can lie down like silk breathing or toss havoc shoreward; it can give gifts or withhold all; it can rise, ebb, froth like an incoming frenzy of fountains, or it can sweet-talk entirely. As I can too, and so, no doubt, can you, and you.”

― Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings: Poems

Embracing Summer: From Scorcher to Serenity

Hot , Hotter,  Hotter Still …

One hot summer’s day, I tried turning on all the car’s air conditioning vents towards myself. It was no use. The sweltering heat was unrelenting. I sipped some water from the water-bottle I’d left in the car a couple of hours earlier, and it felt like very bland tea – warm, but still better than nothing. This is going to be the reality – I thought to myself miserably as I heard the climate doomsday sayers in my head. Every progressive summer heads towards hotter and hotter temperatures. 

Even the phone seemed to be prickly and finicky with the heat – sporadically dropping and picking up the CarPlay. That’s when I noticed the car’s options for nature sounds. I picked Rainy Day – yearnings for a wonderful rainy day even if the drops of water would evaporate the moment they hit the earth that parched day. 

I didn’t expect to feel much – but I was mistaken. We do not really give each of our senses its due in how it makes us feel. My ears pricked up at the sounds of the rain even as the car itself was dry as brush. Maybe it was the effect of the air conditioning kicking in, but everything felt suddenly cooler. I fumbled for my cooling glasses again – I could not wear them because they were too hot earlier, but that made a difference too. 

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It was miraculous, the transformation from parched to a feeling of summertime abundance. Life felt sweeter. 

SummerTime Sweetness

Watching the flowers sag on the trees, 

Even as the fruit trees are breaking off with the weight of their fruit,

The joy of filling your home with fresh fruits and vegetables from a summer bounty. 

Having friends to share all of this with 

Nurturing the garden 

Watching with amazement as butterflies and bees flit happily.

Indulging in summer activities

Reading great books, 

Having wonderful fellow readers to discuss them with.

The joy of grocery shopping that includes ice cream 🙂 

The abundance of books from the local library 

The night-time adventures with every protagonist and idea sharer

Those are the joys of summertime abundances.

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If listening to rain sounds in the car when the weather outside is blistering can bring out all of the above, we are blessed indeed. What are your summertime sweetness feelings?

“The world smells of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside” – Maud Hart Lovelace on Summer

雰囲気 Fun’iki: Embracing the Japanese Concept of Catching the Vibes

We watched fireworks exploding in the skies far away. There is something special about standing on a beach in the dark and watching light come in unexpected bursts from far away. Is that how the creatures of the deep dark pockets of the ocean feel when their own or those of other organisms around them lights up their world with their bioluminescence? I wonder. 

Nevertheless, that night felt more surreal than usual. For it was replaced with tiny pulsing lights of drones. Hundreds of them forming and reforming into beautiful shapes – there a jellyfish, then a statue of liberty, and a whale. In spite of the beautiful shapes, I did miss the crackling sparkling sounds of the fireworks. The drones (far away as they were) were entirely silent, and lacked a certain ‘oooh—aaah’ factor as a result. (I could’ve stooped to pick up something and missed a jug or something. ) But the drones were more environmentally friendly, so …

The next day, we felt a slow start was essential – and so we meandered around an island neighborhood. 

“What do you want to do?” 

“Nothing much – just catch the vibes of the place, maybe?” said the immensely-cooler teenage daughter to her younger cousins and brother, who agreed fervently. I did not know what catch-the-vibes meant exactly, but nodded along. Vibes would reveal themselves. Vibes are like waves – you just have to experience them, I told myself. 

It turned out that stopping to admire art galleries, meandering through neighborhoods with picket fences overlooking the ocean, admiring gardens bursting with flowers, watching young adults laugh and make loud jokes, slurping ice creams before they melted – everything belonged to the category of “catching-the-vibes.”

Catching the vibes, I realized, is a fun activity that can include book shopping, picking up curious art from local art galleries, gasping at the prices of some art pieces, admiring gardens, and 4th of July decorations.

Why am I not surprised that the Japanese word for vibes contains fun?

雰囲気 Fun’iki

Fun’iki sounds like something we do all the time on trips, without the cool name of course. We resolved to add Fun’iki to our vocabulary and trips henceforth and meandered back home.

What are some of your favorite 4th of July week-end activities on trips?

Not Pristine, Prim, & Proper!

The week-end was marvelous. The 4th of July week-end usually is. Summer is in full swing which means long days, and flowers bursting forth everywhere. This time, it also meant waterfronts and beaches with the children in tow. 

One day, as we walked on the beach, playing with the little waves against our feet, stopping to pick a shell here, and a conch there, I reveled in the ordinary happiness that a simple day like that gives. 

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We saw teenage boys play spike ball for hours on end, little children squeal and run to and from the waves, sand castles being built, and surfers ride the waves again and again.

One child was picking up wet sand to return to the ocean, and squealed when the sand squirmed in his hands, and went running  back to his mother.

An inflatable giraffe that did not look happy out in the ocean. The ridiculousness of finding a giraffe bobbing in the waves was enough to get people to laugh.

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I usually am not in favor of crowded beaches, but that day, it felt good. People watching felt lovely. 

The son and husband were covered in sand building their little sand castle with a moat around it, tunnels through them etc. I had taken several walks letting the waves splash around me, and the sea looked amazing. The day was not too hot, and the waters were not too cold. The beach was noisy, but not too loud. The people themselves were in various states of imperfection – In other words, it was perfect.

It all felt all the more special because I had an excellent book to read at the beach. The daughter had her trusted ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty’ trilogy with her. It was a bit dog-eared, but she looked at it fondly and said, “That is exactly how a beach book is supposed to be. Not pristine, prim and proper.” 

I threw my head back and laughed so hard at that. “That should be the theme of our day here, huh? Not pristine, prim and proper.”

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As we made our way out of the beach, we looked like a good hosing down would do us all good. “But before that – some gelato!” said the husband, and we all hailed our hero as we made our way to the little gelato store with brilliant flavors and fantastic names for gelato explorers.

What are some of your favorite beach reads, and beach activities?

The Birds of Paradise

The World Around Us

I don’t remember when exactly we start noticing birds and animals around us as being separate from human-beings. If there is a conscious point in time when we say:

This is us, that is a bird.

Don’t eat those – they’re mosquitoes &

Keep away from man-eating tigers – they want to eat us. 

Keeping the neuroscience behind it all aside, the world around us is fascinating. Even if you see a bird everyday, the little chirp, and the flutter of its wings cannot help but take us out of ourselves for a bit can it? 

What is it about this diversity of life that is so appealing? 

I was sitting one afternoon engrossed in books. Books on beautiful beasts and fantastic features of the creatures we share our planet with.

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As I flipped through the colorful pictures and the accompanying text in the book, Astonishing Animals – Extraordinary Creatures and the Fantastic Worlds They Inhabit. – By Tim Flannery & Peter Schouten, I couldn’t help being drawn to the birds of paradise in the book.

Rarely do we stop and just admire the beauty and precision of a bird’s structure. The birds themselves are flighty. Our attention spans are even more so. Plus, these birds are all in exotic places. But it made me wonder – even the less exotic birds around us, how long and how often do we study them? Ornithologists do. Bird photographers do. But otherwise? Those of us who love nature stop to notice them. The rest of us are too busy to notice. 

Birds of Paradise

I was admiring the different birds of paradise illustrations in the book, and I felt myself drawn to the Himalayan Satyr as much as the blue bird of paradise.

The blue bird of paradise is illustrated beautifully in the book – long side up taking up two pages and you can see why:

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“he dances upside down, hanging from a branch. As he begins his display, he flexes, sending waves of blue and violet shimmering through his feathers. At the center of his chest is a dark oval patch lined on its lower margin with red. This is rhythmically expanded and contracted so that it resembles a huge, slowly expanding eye whose effect, even on humans, is hypnotic. All the while the performer’s own eyes are closed, revealing white eyelids, which lend him an unearthly air.”

Like a little opera singer, dancing on the stage. How marvelous!

The Satyr Tragopan, another beautiful Himalayan bird, drew me for another reason.

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“It is often the case among birds that a gorgeous cock is a poor provider. Beautifully adorned males may put on a wonderful courtship, but all too often contribute nothing to the raising of the chicks, leaving that duty to the dull hen-birds. The satyr tragopan is a stand-out exception here, for not only is he dashingly handsome but he seems to be monogamous and a dutiful father as well. … The father contributes equally to the upbringing and care of the young.”

The Himalayan Monal, and other birds of paradise are equally dashing.

Split into beautiful sections about creatures who live in the ocean, tree dwellers, mountains dwellers, the book journeys across continents, landscapes, ocean surfaces and deep surfaces. The artwork, though, is spell-binding. 

One cannot help feeling like the world is beautified and expanded just a little after an hour just looking at these beautiful creatures and reading about their curious lives.

Recommended Books:

🌍🌠 The Happiest Planet 🌍 in the Universe 🌠🌍

Disney Land

Talking of bold visions, I think Walt Disney nailed it with his: The Happiest Place on Earth.

How do you take up a vision like that, and work relentlessly towards making it a marvelous destination for all involved? After all, humanity comprises of pesky pixies, grateful gnomes, angry birds, peaceful piranhas, dutiful doxies, irritated iguanas, snappy turtles, hungry caterpillars, buzzing bees, flighty feathered friends, and the list really goes on. No two humans are exactly alike in temperament or ability after all.

Standing around in queue surrounded by children, I was in awe of Disney again. There we all were, waiting to enter the happiest place on earth, some still sleepy, others smiling and bright. 

Throughout the day, whenever I could, I stopped to pay attention to the people around me. The eager children, cranky children, enthusiastic children, meek children, energetic children, dull children, frail children, hesitant children, entitled children, rich children, not-so-rich children, able children, disabled children, they all had a place at Disneyland. I noticed the adults accompanying the younger children too – parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, guardians, teachers, and tried picking up a tip or two from their interactions. For instance, one obviously famished grandfather sat himself down and created a tower of French fries for his 5 year old grand-daughter, and caught himself a break.

Weeks, days prior to our week-end visit, I prepared the children for it. Remember, we need to sleep on time the previous night and remember, we need to get up before the lark thinks of singing in the morning, and on and on. 

I must admit, Disney Land as chaperones for tween boys who consider it a ride’s worth only if they have had their intestines taken out, shaken vigorously inside out, and then stuffed back inside, is a bit much. As I looked at the grandfather with his tower of fries, I sighed, and the son caught my eye, “What is it?”, he said. His adrenaline was still pumping from the last roller-coaster in the dark, speeding through the cosmos, while I yearned for a nicer ride. Something calm, and soothing: give my innards a chance to settle.

“Well – as much fun as it was to knot my large intestine with the small intestine, using the gall bladder to bind it together and all, I want a lovely ride down a tame stream – I want to get that smile that lingers with a ride like ‘Its a Small World’!” I said.

Disney’s It’s a Small World After All ride.

Magic is a beautiful thing even when you are prepared for it. DisneyLand’s It’s A Small World worked its magic as it usually does – I couldn’t help smiling as we stood in line. The son caught my face, and said, “Hmm…now that you know the show was designed by a woman, it makes it that much more special huh?!”

small_world

Pocket full of colors : the magical world of Mary Blair, by Amy Guglielmo & Jacqueline Tourville, Illustrated by Brigette Barrager

I laughed, and said, “Well – reading the book makes you think of so many things: things other than the lovely ride. I mean : The color schemes, the preferred movements of the characters, and the theme, the conception, the unity.” 

I could feel myself grow happier, cheerier, and a tad smug as our line snaked towards the empty boats up ahead, Really, catching any of these rides well before they all getting to hour long waits is a form of magic. 

I whipped out my phone, but the son caught my hand, and said, “Remember, you want to enjoy the actual ride, and that means … ? ….” He gave me that look that I give him when his homework isn’t quite done yet. I meekly put it away though I could not resist taking a photo or two along the way.

The special ride around the world felt just as special as always – the music, the lights, the cultures, the joy. How can one not enjoy it when for those 5 minutes, adulting is forgotten and childrening is embraced?

Mary Blair & Walt Disney

This time, we also knew who exactly to thank for the ride: the chief artist and designer, Mary Blair, whose vision translated into one of the most beautiful rides of all time, and Walt Disney who believed in her, and supported her through it. Obviously, it has since been improved upon by the teams, and continues to charm magic-seekers through the ages.

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Mary Blair’s travel through the world, and the distinct ways in which we perceived the colors of the Earth is so evident in the artwork. Not all of us are lucky enough to catch the ethereal colors of sunset in a desert, or the tropical colors of an island, or see the cultures of different countries. This little ride shows it all in a vibrant display of artwork bursting at its seams with colors, themes and music. Subtle variations in music as the boat moves from American Wild West to Asia, and from there to Russia. Continue reading “🌍🌠 The Happiest Planet 🌍 in the Universe 🌠🌍”

Sarees for Mothers

A Sari for Ammi

It is Asian Heritage Month, and the library is vibrant. I saw this book, A Sari for Ammi – Story by Mamta Nainy illustrated by Sandhya Prabhat. 

I thought I’d write about this for Mother’s Day, for it is a heartwarming tale. 

The young children of sari weavers watch in awe as their parents work on their arts of creation every day. Dyeing the threads, working the looms, selling their brilliant creations at the local market. Their beautiful mother, who creates magical saris can seldom wear a sari -she usually wears the practical and old salwar kameezes she owns – for she can neither afford the sairs she weaves, nor can anyone buy these for her. They are Kota Doria fabric weavers, and many generations ago moved to the Rajasthan area from Mysuru in South India at Rao Kishore Singh – the then ruler in Rajasthan.

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The children decide to buy a sari for their mother: One she particularly liked, and one of her own creations. Of course, they realize that they do not have enough to buy a sari, and the heartwarming tale pushes on. 

Buying a sari for a mother is a special joy – one that Indians know and appreciate. For many years, I felt sorry that I could not indulge in this simple pleasure when my mother or mother-in-law came to stay with us in the USA. Luckily, now we have a few stores, and online options, but that was not always the case. 

A simple book that taps into the simple joys of buying your mother figures a saree.

Happy Mothers’ Day to all the wonderful mothers and mother-figures in your life.

What is April to you?

April is many things to the poetic brain, to the romantic at heart. It even somehow manages to give a tinge of optimism to the incorrigible pessimists amongst us.

It is the month of gorgeous signs of spring in the bay area. Hillsides filled with green grasses and wildflowers in hues of yellows, pinks, purples & oranges everywhere. It is difficult to not be buoyed up in spirits when spring gets going like this around us. The butterflies flit, bees buzz, woodpeckers peck (drill?), tulips push up through the soil, flowers burst forth from buds, barren trees cloak themselves in new leaves. 

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Life, it seems, wants to be up and about.

April is not just when Spring is in its glory:

📜 It is the month of poetry – I picked up a bunch of poetry books from the library the other day, and have yet to get to them. It is the thought that counts.

🌎It is the month for our dear planet Earth – well Earth Day, but I really think we should dedicate a month in which we consume more conscientiously, make choices that help our only home and all that.

📚It is the month that has a day dedicated to Books – World Book Day. I found my pace of reading especially slow this month given everything, but I still clutched them inhaling the scent of my dearly beloveds that night – too tired to read, but too stubborn to put it away and fall asleep. Someone must’ve rescued them, for I saw them in a tottering pile on my bedside table in the morning, and smiled.

🧬April 25 is also World DNA day.

This month, I found myself wandering the planet, wondering where the time went, and watching in awe as the goslings hatched, and the bird parents showed us good parenting. I found myself being inspired by humans achieving remarkable things, finding time to do the things they love, pondering on what is inherent via DNA and what can be changed via nurture, being taken aback by what we are capable of doing to one and another, and so much more. 

I did not even feel my usual sense of helplessness as my to-do list remained stubbornly long. It is a list and has a right to exist, I told myself. Spring cleaning can wait, to-do lists can wait (maybe it is why we have World Workers Day on May 1st – to remind us to get back to that list) 

What is April to you?

Vibrance of Variety

Flight journeys to exotic lands across the planet are tedious. Grateful as I am for flights, and the miracle of hot food, good air, and the view from above. It can get to be a trifle monotonous after the first 10 hours, By 12 hours, it is painful, by 14 excruciating. You get the picture.

This time, we got to chase the sun rising over the Arctic Tundra. I peeked out into the orange horizon, and gasped. The sun rising over the clouds and us watching from above can give us quite the divine feeling. A feeling that only travelers in the past hundred years have had the blessing to experience. Sailors may have experienced this divinity while out in the oceans, hikers and mountaineers have been trying to experience this phenomenon from up above.

I did not get good pictures from up above this time, but some older pictures are always worth seeing again. 

I was trying my best to stretch, glide and keep the body supple as I walked up and down the flight, waving my little hellos to the babies who had all decided that sleeping was not something to do when surrounded by this many people. What an adventure this was! Why would anyone waste it sleeping?

I looked at the poor parents, and they stood bleary eyed, teary eyed, weary all rolled into one. I remembered with a shudder the travels and travails of traveling with babies.

Never awaken a sleeping tiger cub…

One baby was friendly and smiled. He grinned and was the highlight of my flight. He reminded me of the daughter all those years ago when I haunted the flight corridors with her.

“You have a bassinet, my dear! Why would you not sleep? Lie down – stretch those little arms and legs and just sleep!” I coo-ed and he giggled.

“I wish we had bassinets!” I said to the frazzled mother, and she agreed heartily.

Walking up and down the flight and out in the airports, I couldn’t help noticing the number of different personalities in the world. Were there really infinite possibilities of personalities in this world? The combinatorial explosion is hard enough to contend with. Then, over and above, nature, is nurture. Each one, whose circumstances helped shaped them in drastic or subtle ways.

I had been reading a rather large family saga over the past few days, and realized that no matter how many personalities we encounter in this world, we will still be surprised by humankind.

The baby cooed and asked to be shown the panel wall behind me, and I obliged.  We smiled yet again and took a peek at the sun rise, then a few hours later, we left the blazing day behind and kept flying into the night. The babies cooed and cried, laughed, and danced. Each personality budding and developing into their own personalities to add to the vibrant variety we already have on this planet.

“So, how old are your children now?” the mother asked with a yearning look as I tried to shake sleep.  I assured her that time would fly past and she can  soon dream of sleep on long flights!

Wind💨, Rain 🌧️ & Boats ⛵️

In what was a beautiful wind-whipped whirl one morning, the on-a-spring-break son and I went on a walk. Power & Internet were down, which meant we could both twirl off on our adventures while these things were being restored. 

A few minutes in, we were confronted with a huge water pipe that gushed out in great spades. The county’s water department was already there looking into the problem, while we stood watching in awe as the water spooled off into the drain. Clean water. 

“Hmm…everything decided to go nuts huh?!” the son said, as we stopped to marvel at the swift waters.

“Do you think we’ll have time to head back and bring back papers to make boats?” he asked, after a few seconds of awed water watching. I saw the determined faces of the county workers’ faces gleam with triumph – they had fixed the problem no doubt, which meant our time was short. Luckily, it was also garbage day, and the windy day had scattered a couple of pamphlets in the wind as the garbage truck tipped the contents over. So, off we went chasing after these pamphlets to make into paper boats. 

If the maestros of productivity were to observe us that morning, there would be a lot of tutting, and note-taking on ways-to-improve, but we felt amazing. 

Our boats, Mitillandimus Tittilandumas, and Mixter Baxter Junior fared the best. The remaining capsized before starting. For those interested, our boat christening was inspired by Gerald Durrell’s boat, Bootle Bumtrinket, in the book, My Family and Other Animals.

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There does not seem to be a word to capture the sense of adventure, contentment and joy watching your paper boats take off on adventures, but we both highly recommend the experience.

What kind of life is it always to plan
and do, to promise and finish, to wish
for the near and the safe? Yes, by the
heavens, if I wanted a boat I would want
a boat I couldn’t steer.
                    ~   Mary Oliver, Book: Blue Horses

Just as the last of our boats disappeared with the rivulets, the wind picked up, and we tried keeping ourselves upright as we continued on. It was no use. Within minutes, the winds were accompanied by plump raindrops, and we scuttled back home. 

It had been a useful outing, and we came back refreshed and grateful that the rains started lashing down a few minutes after we reached. Back home, the power gods had restored electricity but not the internet. So, we settled ourselves down to a cup of tea and cocoa. We sipped in silence while the rain pattered all around us.

“Wonder what happened to our boats!” the son said finishing his hot cocoa, and we smiled together. They were not in safe harbor, and it was an exhilarating thought.

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