Month: April 2019

The eleventh day

SF6 Comments

Fresh from the Pooja

We travelled to the 11th day pooja. Held by Manjula’s brother in the village maybe four hours drive away

I’ve already relayed some of the sensitivities when we met to plan this Pooja. Here. They’ve shifted the day so our closest Indian friends Tanuja, Satish and Vasanth aren’t able to come, bugger. To support me I do however have Tom and Amy, and two other friends Steven (thanks for the photos) from Australia and Imran, who was going to prove to be a godsend, as he’s the only one to really understand and be able to interpret!

The Pooja or ritualistic prayer is mostly a request. The 11th day Pooja is part of the process of helping Manjula’s spirit be released from her body and the here and now. This helps her break away and start her new life in a new form or maybe hang around a bit!

As we arrive the cooking of curries (plenty of meat) and rolling of the Ragi balls is being completed.

We’re ready to rebuff any attempt to try hang on to her jewellery. Within minutes they’re asking for it to be left here until the morning. As agreed I’ll be taking it with me immediately after the Pooja.

Raju, Manjula’s brother is having his head shaved. I’d floated the idea of me being shaved but this was dismissed out of hand by my Hindu advisors Tanu, Satish and Vasanth.

Together with anyone else wishing to express an opinion, there was a clear consensus. It would be toooo complicated. A sort of Indian open house has spoken. (Everyone has an opinion about everything, of course)

Manjula’s photo was the centrepiece she was garlanded and then surrounded by offerings. Of things she liked, maybe.

I placed my garland, her Mangal

Sutra and ankle chains on her photo.

We took it in turns to do twirls with the incense and fire.

It’s obviously an important ritual for a Hindu. It’s also an essential part of bringing communities together.

As one of our party said. There were two people there with tearful red eyes. Manjulas cousin also called Manjula who you can see in a couple of photos here and her brother, Raju. Otherwise it seemed like Manjula was just a quiet voice almost incidental to the whole thing.

On reflection

We now have a clear view of what would have been Manjula’s life if we hadn’t met and fell in love.

She was brought up in the Bamboo bazar slum in Mysore so not a village but most definitely this level of poverty

But it’s not the living conditions or the poverty that seems the greatest challenge but the harshness of some of the people. the sister-in-laws branch of the family are astonishingly direct and focussed on money, Manjula doesn’t really seem to figure

It was time to go

Relatives were asking for Imran’s cell no in case they needed help ie money and so they could make a call if anyone was in hospital or otherwise needed help.

We’ve done our bit and it’s time to go and now realise how hard it was for Manjula and how she’d escaped this life and blossomed in her new one from nine years ago.

Peachy

SF2 Comments

Manjula fell in love with peaches during our two extended holidays in the U.K.

She couldn’t get enough them but unfortunately they are unavailable in Mysore. So the Super Troopers Tom and Amy brought some from the UK. Her face lit up and she wolfed them down. That is, except the tinned peaches!

So what to do with them?

Well we walked up Chamundi Hill. Chamundeshwari who lives on the hill being Manjula’s No 1 God.

Carefully opened the Sainsbury’s can …..

And celebrated Manjula in the setting sun.

My life, my key, my saviour

SF2 Comments

Absolutely nothing ever goes to plan or as expected.

The 11th day, of Pooja for Manjula is now the day after the one originally planned, so unfortunately non of our Indian friends are able to come. The appropriate date is calculated by some mystic, the stars or pure whim, who knows? The event organised by Manjulas brother and family will be in a village with no one that we really know. It doesn’t really matter. But…. Non of us will speak Kannada or have any idea whats going on. Then there’s the whole issue of me bringing her mangal sutra and ankle chains and getting them back to take home. So there’s a few things to understand and manage.

That’s today’s first challenge.

Then there was….

the Merry-go-round of trying to collect Manjula’s body from the hospital,

..or the case of the missing engagement ring and wedding sari.

It’s one thing after another.

It’s becoming more and more apparent that Manjula has been my golden key to help open the lock of India she’s enabled me to relatively easily surf the uncertain waters, the buffering of the white water. That’s now gone.

India well and truly takes you out of your comfort zone and then pushes you out a bit further and a bit further and further still into unchartered waters.

She was also my life life saver in so many ways.

But of course, she’s still with me.

Manjula’s Memorial

SF8 Comments

A wonderful photo of beautiful Manjula, the daily local pungent jasmine flowers, roses, her constant companion favourite WOMAD water bottle, Buddha, painting of Luci, wedding present wood inlay of Manjula the personification of Mysore Bed and Breakfast, one oft favourite photos of the wedding.