It’s so easy to fall into the quagmire pit of negativeness. Dwelling on the sadness of her last few weeks,the whipping stick of blame or the grief of how much I miss her. She is of course happily still with us in so many ways. I am so fortunate to have fond memories that I cherish and as the brain gets more befuddled I have lovely videos of Manjula talking to me and you. I came across one yesterday on a posting about us both coming to terms with the changes. You can find it here with her lovely humour even at the most difficult of times. I love you Manjula
I tracked down Manjula’s neighbours and friends from over eight years ago when she first started working for me.
They couldn’t quite believe it , as manjula was so discreet and personified humility they knew nothing about us setting up Mysore Bed and Breakfast, her managing the cleaners, gardener and drivers, the visits to the U.K., her friends around the world. To top it all, the fact that we’d got married. I was so proud of my beautiful and they were so surprised.
An especially poignant moment was when they’d checked I’d properly created a Hindu funeral and I shared the lovely video of releasing Manjula’s ashes into the river
Sumukh and I will interview them for our story.
Further thoughts and feelings as Manjula flies the nest.
Postings from April through to August
Grief, the three bucket method….beginning to work out how to manage some of the grief and push some away! There are all sorts of ways to deal with this situation Unreturned love of my star, including poetry and more of the journey Private mission: grief recovery and wobbles Key stages, behind the scene. Happiness is a choice you make is a very helpful perspective in this difficult situation, Three stages are quite apparent now. Stepping stones are another analog in Doddery
A significant anniversary, four weeks after Manjula died she sponsors meals at the Ashram but what are those symbols appearing on our streets. Which change before our eyes in Mixed feelings. Seven weeks since
Ap pagal hey, are you mad?
To live in others hearts is not to die is such a great way to think about it
A smile, Manjula had a remarkable beacon of a smile a common theme…
Manjula’s watching, still being the boss, sending a message from where her spirit is resting ….. did I say resting?
With a little more help from our friends an appeal for memories of Manjula. Here are some of the memories, others will be featured in other ways! Missing Manjula 2 There must be a Manjula 1 somewhere. We also remember with Jingle jangle and New thing for memory of Manjula
Manjula my muse, and she continues to be…
I’ve been fortunate to get away for almost two months in June and July Back home is a challenge
The factly fiction stories
Life in India
Phew, we have to find some help.
As part of our giving we want to do something new, but Oh no not again and
as i realise the implications of having to relate to officialdom again. Our revise experiences of sorting out IDS, Passport, visa and registering he business with the City Corporation have been detailed in our story.
I’ve experienced an incredible mix of feelings since Manjula set off on her new journey.
It’s sweet because of our wonderful time together, our incredible memories and her presence in my heart
It’s sour as it’s awful losing one’s love and dealing with the hole she leaves
It’s sad as it leaves me stressed, anxious and depressed.
Manjula and I, always looked at things, with a positive view of life….
“Love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire”
“I heard her answering me, saw her smile, her frank and encouraging look. Real or not, her look was then more luminous than the sun which was beginning to rise.
by Viktor E Frankl, who knows a thing or two about dealing with horrendous situations.
On the 21st Manjula will provide meals for the older people at the Ashram we’ve previously supported. We will meet for a celebratory meal at Roopa.
” The soul is neither born,, nor does it ever die; nor having once existed, does it ever cease to be. The soul is without birth, eternal, immortal, and ageless. It is not destroyed when the body is destroyed.” Bhagavadgita
The officer gestures for me to sit down and a tea immediately appeared, as if by magic.
That’s a good start.
I’m at Mysore City Corporation bringing a letter for the Commissioner. Her PA is the first guy I meet.
“I have a letter for the Commissioner”
“Please do sit down”
“I’d like to introduce my wife and here’s my letter”
I handed him a photo of Manjula and a letter.
‘I’m asking for permission to pay for and site a bench in our local park in memory of my wife who died earlier this year.”
‘That’s not possible”, he declared.
” We’ve never given permission for this as so many people might want to do it. It would have to go to corporators.”
By that he means it’s a council or committee decision
“So it’s not a delegated power?” I asked? “Would it not be possible to get a straightforward policy allowing people to buy a bench, exactly as you already install with simple wording on it?”
I showed him a picture of the park opposite our house which had no benches together with a picture of the benches found in some of their other parks.
He asked me to give the letter in the next office to be passed on to the Commissioner and to go and see the senior engineer.
I did, let’s see what happens.
I had flashbacks to the endlessness of dealing with officialdom for Manjula’s IDs, passport and with the Brits to get her visa. Our preoccupation with health matters, another form of endlessness, we’d had to deal over the past two years had taken its place, so I’d forgotten.
I’ve learned one lesson.
Don’t try and do too much, especially when dealing with government bureaucracy, and have an additional simple little job so that you can still feel you’ve achieved something.
I also went to pick up a framed picture of Manjula.
I’m stepping over stones into my new world.
As I prepare to return to Mysore after almost two months away it seems daunting.
I’m tired and it’s exhausting dealing with the turmoil of my emotions.
I really don’t know if I’m ready to go back. I need to but I worry what it will be like. Maybe I should have planned to be away longer but that would mean putting off the inevitable. I need to follow my own insights and advice and remember our wonderful time together over nine years, our fun growing together and creating something special.
Wherever I am whatever I do, I carry Manjula with me. I’m always bumping into memories of Manjula. I miss her so much. I wonder if I will ever move on from all this and if I really want to. Am I going about it the best way? Am I expecting too much too soon? I just don’t know. For much of the time I’m not really motivated to do anything. I think about her constantly, miss her terribly, I have lovely memories and overwhelming sadnesss. It’s a friggin nightmare.
But it’s not the total picture.
It’s as if……
I’m crossing a river.
I step gingerly, stone by stone, crossing the unwelcoming swirling white water. I step on a wobbly stone that pushes my heart into my mouth and brings tears to my eyes, others are unpredictable being partially immersed, others shift erratically with a manic intent to topple me into the churning waves. If I was to fall in at this depth it would be of little consequence but in this current state it’s maybe a challenge for which I’m not equipped.
My muse, Manjula continues to stimulate, encouraging me to act and move forward. I find a firmer footing. I feel her support, her arms hugging me, she whispers her love. I realise that we choose the routes we take.
I can look back and can see that there might have been different approaches to the challenges we faced. An alternative might have rescued my darling from this untimely death but we just don’t know and have to go with what we did choose and hold our wonderful memories close.
I know she forgives me and will always be with me.