Item

 

I must be the easiest letter by far in the A-Z. It's a word all by its own self. Just like A. Spoilt for choice.  

In this instance though, I is for India Gate. Also an arch monument, but quite different from the Gateway of India which I mentioned in my previous post. 

India Gate is a war memorial to about 74,000 service personnel, mostly Indian, some British, who fell in WWI between 1914 and 1921 in the Far and Middle East and East Africa. It was designed by Sir Edwin Lutyens, the main architect of New Delhi and also a member of the Imperial War Graves Commission.  Lord Irwin, the then Viceroy, inaugurated the memorial in 1931.

India Gate, New Delhi. The focal point for the Republic Day celebrations.
A few changes to the monument since independence in 1947.

Very popular spot with both residents and visitors.

Staying in Delhi, J is for Jama Masjid, a somewhat older building built by  Shahjahan, the same chap who built the Taj Mahal. It has played a political role during the colonial era and remains in active use even now. 

Contre jour at Jama Masjid. A mosque in a very typical Mughal style,
built in the 1650s. 

And for K, I have Kulfi, which is a traditional Indian frozen dairy dessert, sold by vendors known as kulfiwallahs and in restaurants throughout India, particularly popular during the hot summers. The recipe is from the Mughal era, records show that saltpeter and  ice, imported from the Himalayas, were used for refrigeration. 

Kulfi is made from evaporated milk and flavourings, packed into metal moulds and immersed in slurry ice. Originally the dessert was flavoured with cream (malai), saffron (zafran/kesar), cardamom (elaichi), rose and mango. Nowadays you get them in many different  flavours - strawberry, apple, avocado. This one hereunder is narangi kulfi - orange, at a favourite restaurant in Lucknow.

Narangi kulfi - loved it the first time!

 

So went back for seconds on the next trip!

Incidentally, kulfi is not whipped and therefore it is a denser dessert which keeps frozen for a longer time once unmoulded. Another must-try item if you're in India. 

That's I, J and K done. Hope you've enjoyed the photos. Happy A-Zing! - if you're participating. And happy cusp season to you, if you're not! 

Posted for the A-Z Challenge 2024

Given

 

Well, G is for Ghat ...what else?...here's one on the Hooghly river right here in Kolkata. Named after James Princep, the first editor of the Journal of the Asiatic Society. He is famous for deciphering the Brahmi script. Btw, the Hooghly is a tributary of the Ganges or Ganga and therfore is also considered sacred. 

Princep Ghat on the Hooghly. . 

View of Dakshineswar temple and its adjoining ghat.

And G  is for the Gateway of India in Mumbai, built more than a hundred years ago to commemorate the visit of George V, the first British monarch to come to India. 

Gateway of India - it's an arch monument, built in 1911.

G is also for Gulls which fly alongside as the ferry makes its way over the waters to Elephanta  Island, locally known as Gharapuri. Rock cut caves on the island go back to the 4th/5th century, super deep history wherever one happens to be in India. 

The view from the ferry as it starts out - next to the Gateway is
the iconic Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, another heritage landmark. 

They keep flying alongside for about half an hour and then turn back.

It's a pleasant experience to watch them as the ferry proceeds and the city noises gradually fall away. 

Trimurti, or tri-statue/deity inside the caves. The most important
sculpture, carved in relief on the south wall. A representation
of the Hindu Holy Trinity of Creator, Preserver and Destroyer. 

That's my G n H posted. It's all a bit haphazard. But haphazard is good too. Pantzing is healthy sometimes. Hope you've enjoyed the photos. Happy A-Zing! - if you're participating. And happy cusp season to you, if you're not! 

Posted for the A-Z Challenge 2024

Flying

 

F is for  what I call Flying clicks ...here are some from  far away and very long ago to not so long ago...

Athens, Greece. Dec 2009.

Cairo, Egypt. Aug 2011.

Heathrow, London, UK. Jul 2018

Bahrain. July 2021

Singapore. Apr 2022.

Delhi, India. Dec 2022.

Fiji. June 2023

Kentucky, USA. Dec 2023.

That's all for now. Happy A-Zing! - if you're participating. And happy cusp season to you, if you're not!

Posted for the A-Z Challenge 2024

Determined

 

I've participated in  the Challenge every year since 2014, so this would have been my 11th year. However, various offline challenges through the last three months have meant that I'm nowhere sorted enough this year. The main spanner in the works being vision issues and consequent restricted screen time. Therefore...I'm going to be popping in as and when able, with whatever I have handy. Also not adding my name to the master list this year as I'm not sure of how much reading I can get done. Thank you in advance to all visitors and commenters. 

Since my last post was based on 'ghat,' specifically the river ones, (btw, ghat also means a mountain pass in India, but the overwhelming association for me is always the river bank) I thought I might put up some pictures of the more famous ones from Varanasi. These are from a trip about two years ago.  

A plaque describing the Dashashwamedh Ghat. 

The Ganges from Dashashwamedh Ghat. Always a great Energy there.

A different one that fits. Varanasi has more than 80 ghats.

The raised daises from which the Ganga Aarati is offered every dawn and dusk.

For those unfamiliar, aarati is a Hindu devotional ritual in which fire and incense are offered to a deity. As I mentioned before, the Ganges is sacred to Hindus. It is enormously significant in India, considered a goddess and called Ma Ganga or Ganga Maiiya -  Mother Ganges. Equated to the Divine, in short. 

Ganga Aarati in progress at the Dashahwamedh Ghat.

Daylight view of the ghats at Varanasi. 

Ghats after dark. 

I do tend to click a lot of photos! - wherever I may be. My devices are all exploding with stacks of them, as I never get around to deleting the extras. No system to select and file them away somewhere either.  They're splattered all over the desktop and phone. 

However, I've rather  enjoyed sifting through these ones, memories of an awesome trip. Varanasi is super ancient, one of the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world. Its history is rich and deep, going back more than 2500 years. It's a microcosm of India, a total melting pot - a syncretic culture with Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims and Christians, all doing their own thing, having fun coexisting and enriching life. 

A few steps away from the ghats. St Thomas' Church,
with a sadhu - a Hindu monk, in the foreground. 

Varanasi is a revered pilgrimage spot for Hindus of course, but the city is more than just a faith based destination. It is also a modern educational hub and a centre for silk and carpet weaving. Also of arts and literature from its very inception. It gives its name to a particular school of Indian classical music, it's the location of heavy engineering industries and last but not the least - a foodie paradise. Many prominent people, from the Buddha to Bismillah Khan have been associated with Varanasi. Definitely a must visit - if you're in India.

That's my D n E and that's all, folks. Hope you've enjoyed the photos. Happy A-Zing! - if you're participating. And happy cusp season to you, if you're not! 

Posted for the A-Z Challenge 2024

Already Behind at the Challenge

 

I've participated in  the Challenge every year since 2014, so this would have been my 11th year. However, various offline challenges through the last three months have meant that I'm nowhere sorted enough this year. The main spanner in the works being vision issues and consequent restricted screen time. Therefore...I'm going to be popping in as and when able, with whatever I have handy. Also not adding my name to the master list this year. 

A is for Atal Ghat... B is for Boats, Bike and Birds...and C is for Kanpur which was previously anglicised as Cawnpore and for the Siberian Crane. 

A ghat consists of paved steps on a river bank leading down to the waters.  The most famous ghats are likely the ghats of Varanasi, some of which find mention in 4th century texts. This particular one is in Kanpur on the banks of the Ganges, which is a majorly significant and sacred river in Indian culture. 

View from Atal Ghat, Kanpur. Previously Cawnpore.

Migratory birds on the Ganges - Siberian Cranes. 

Bike by the roadside. 

Boat on the Ganges. 

That's all for now. Happy A-Zing! - if you're participating. And happy spring to you, if you're not!

Posted for the A-Z Challenge 2024

Tethered

 

Because you once walked barefoot on grass and sand,

the pebbles sharp against your tender sole -

freedom wasn’t in the sky alone - land

and long grass you found, could remake the whole

concept of free, the patience of wild things

to wait, create their own steady,  growth rings.

 

Because you walked once in the faraway shades

of the wisdom trees, spreading their canopies

under unfettered skies, the blunt green blades

of grasses rippling far from manmade cities,

you found your freedoms tethered to the earth

in trickles of rain, in seasonal rebirths.

Hello, hello, hello! - long time! Heartfelt thanks to all of you who've asked after me, here and in mails and texts. A lot has happened, and not just to me, and as usual mixed - all this week I've been hearing monumentally distressing news. From across the world and in my own circle. Personally, my issues pale by comparison, no grounds for whingeing.  So the good bit first - I am back! though the eye is not yet fully healed it's going to take longer than I first thought. Things were coming along nicely in Feb, till it picked up some virus early this month and got infected, the cornea's swollen up so vision's still a bit blurry and screen time is limited...sigh...I can't get my specs done till everything settles down to its final shape and form but I'll get there sometime hopefully... Of course I'm not writing as much as I did, but it's not down to zero either. 

In between I went to Delhi and back to the neighbourhood where I grew up -  saw my favourite peepul tree has grown from 1st floor height to 5th in the years since I'd left. It has become massive - so pleased to see it close up. Spent an afternoon watching the birds and squirrels come and go among the branches - non stop peaceful entertainment. 

Peepul is the Indian name for the sacred fig, incidentally. Associated with much mythology - the Buddha sat under one when he found enlightenment, for instance. Figs feature in a big way in my life, in my childhood homes everywhere, there was a wild fig, a massive old one behind the bungalow in Maiduguri as well. Spent many afternoons with that tree too. Trees peg memories into place. 

Meanwhile, spring is here in this part of the northern hemi. The silk cottons are blooming everywhere in the city - covered in fat, red flowers. Enjoying them while I can, blurry vision or not. Hope something beautiful is blooming wherever you are too. 

Perspective or blur?

 

Always one coming

 

Credit

There’s a war coming over the mountains

snaking past the bridges into the township.

Always a war coming, always a countdown,

the whispers in the streets and insider tips.

 

Over bare mountains and over those mauve hills,

over the silver line of the horizon,

there’s always a war coming, guns and missiles

smoke out and rip open the lives of children.

 

Under the green grass and under the olives,

under the ribbons of blue waves and white foam,

there’s always a war coming where you now live

and a nose for the profits in shells and bombs.

 

I can’t sing you to sleep with soft lullabies

and tell you it’s fireworks that redden your skies.

What can I say? 

Life feels like a never ending battle sometimes. Death and taxes. Eye ailments, blood profiles, extreme weather, time zone management issues, terrible traffic, light and noise pollution, the waxing and waning shenanigans of the political classes, the lack of me-time, no time to write, etc, etc, etc. 

Then I look at what's happening out there in the wider world and my troubles seem to have a pretty low melting point.

Have a peaceful week. 

Waste

 

Photo by Heike Mintel on Unsplash

Have I wasted my time? Most of the visit

I spent in watching you sleep. The slow curve

of lashes on cheek. That’s the last habit

to wean off, the first rite mothers observe.

The easy rise and fall of the blankets

tuned to the rhythms of your resting breath,

and I listened for it as I sat and read

as if to listen is to ward off death.

 

I’ve checked on you a million times, my child

as an infant new born then suddenly grown.

In a moonbright night I come awake still

and listen...before I recall I’m alone,

 

only the wind stirs the trees, an austere

pair of stars blink, as though to blink back tears.

Hello, I'm back from the other end of the world! 

Shameless  poetic licence taken above, because well, I'm quite clear that no part of the visit was wasted. I've had a fantastic time, thanks to my hosts - friends and family, in all the places I've been to in the last month. Travelling during Christmas and New Year meant getting to see the American cities lit up and at their sparkling best. The weather remained graciously mild, a spattering of rain here and there, that's all. Though all that changed just as I flew out, the US weather reports are scary now - bitterly cold and likely to continue through next week. Stay safe and warm, folks out there!

It's not that I haven't watched my sleeping child - all parents do. That's nature's way of making sure the parents are doing their job. Even after the job is technically over. Watching a child sleeping is never a waste of time. Nothing is ever wasted or lost anyway, just transformed. That's actually a physical law. It's also a verse in the Bhagavad Gita.  

This year has begun well - in the company of my son, my childhood friends and my extended family. But I know it will be mixed, like all the others. A lot of uncertainties, transitions, anxieties are waiting to happen. However, an equal amount of learning, loveliness, kindness and fun are also waiting to be experienced. I just have to look hard enough, be mindful and not be so overwhelmed by the daily stresses as to miss the chances for laughter and learning. So that's the non-resolution for 2024, that is what I'm going to do - keep eyes peeled for the chances and make sure nothing is wasted, not a drop.  

Year end singing

 

Sometimes it can guess what was, only from what’s left.

The rivers need no meddling with to course correct.

I watch the wakes of boats and, though I am afraid

the differences of skies and rivers progressively fade.

 

The year flits by without a word on how to cope,

the highs are high but the lows are fathomless in scope,

still the waters hold the blue and its light reflect,

the river needs no meddling with to course correct.  

 

I tally the sums of what I got and what I gave

count the wakes of the boats, and count the leaves and waves

in the end no measures quite define the intercepts

the river brooks no meddling with to course correct.

 

On my fingers are smeared the remnants of the past

some leaves of melancholy, joys that do not last

words that run off the page, rhymes that aren’t perfect

but they need no meddling with to course correct.

 

I sing not for heights achieved but more to endure,

take stumbling in my stride, go where the footing’s unsure

the river flows heedless to the paths that I select,

and it brooks no meddling with to course correct.

 

I sing for that one small step taken towards justice,

for the unseen courage that’s so easy to miss.  

Like the river ignores all attempts to deflect

quietly brooks no meddling with to course correct.

 

I’d rather talk of the common, ordinary and plain,

the songless birds, scentless blooms, the coarser woodgrains,

the river takes no notice of the boats nor subjects

and it needs no meddling with to course correct.

 

Come with me to the banks where fallen leaves lie thick

the winter light spins the waves into silver magic

the trees dance naked as they wait, lines of spiky shade

and differences of skies and waters progressively fade.

Happy New Year 2024 to all who stop by, from Raleigh, NC. Wishing for a gentler, more peaceful and stress free year for everyone. I'm getting back to the old hometown a couple weeks into the year and hopefully I'll get right back into couch potato mode pronto. See you soon. 

Write...Edit...Publish... December 2023 : Over to You

Hello writers, 

I can't believe the year is over, can you?! Personally it has been tumultuous, mixed is an understatement. As I discovered during the first Covid year, time flies whether one's having a good time or bad. I am back at Write...Edit...Publish... where the prompt is "Over to You." It's an open prompt where the writer chooses her/his favourite film/title for inspiration. I have so many favourites and they are all in different languages so it's a fairly impossible task to pick one. Therefore I decided to use the phrase itself as a prompt - btw, there is a movie called Over to You, which I haven't watched, not very helpful. :) 

So here's the final instalment of Chiaroscuro, which began in Dec 2022 with the Roberta Flack song 'The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.' I didn't think the story would get so lo-o-n-g,  I'm glad I can bring it to its conclusion finally, phew! 

What's happened so far:

The MC finds a B/W profile picture on a social media platform intriguing. He writes on an impulse to the woman and finds that the picture is of her grandmother and was shot in a studio that once belonged to a relative, now dead. 

The MC goes back to his hometown and explores the derelict studio. He finally comes upon a series of nudes of a woman in different stages of life, the last of which he recognises as the grandmother.

He finds a letter that breaks the bombshell news that his Great Uncle Sam, the studio owner and the grandmother had an ongoing relationship in the past. 

He meets with the granddaughter in their common hometown and shares the findings...which naturally shocks the granddaughter. The MC assures her that the secret is safe with him and he will support her through this bombshell discovery. They say goodbye but he feels she will not want to see him again. 

The MC goes to Sam's ancestral house situated a little way away from the city and finds the furniture that's used as props in the Janhobi's portrait - the radio, the table etc. He also chances upon an old tree engraving that clearly indicates Sam and Janhobi spent time in the house. Mukta does not get in touch as he had feared.

The old radio goes berserk in the middle of the night and Shovan doesn't get much sleep due to a stream of spooky electrical events. In the morning he finds further evidence of Sam and Janhobi's presence in the room from many years ago. His phone beeps meanwhile - it's from Mukta. 

Now please read on: