Tom and Amy

img_0246Tom and Amy first keep to visit us what to them might seem like a hundred years ago. They were introduced to us by the lovely people at Indiasomeday which continues to be our favourite agency.

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After that first trip, we decided to designate them as our adopted children as we got on really really well. On their return home they got married, resigned from their jobs and became nomads.
They now have an exciting adventure filled life as itinerant travellers working then travelling, travelling and working.

 

Tamy have become part of our lives. Amy was our celebrant at our wedding and Tom took the photos. They continued to be with us during Manjula’s difficult times due to her illness. When she died earlier this year, they immediately changed their plans, rode over the hill to the rescue….. well, flew back to India to stay with me for a couple of weeks. I hadn’t realised how important that was to me, they were a godsend . They’ve now visited three times, this year alone and some guests have come to think they actually live here.

We meet up to eat a vegan when our paths cross in London.

They’ve created two lovely videos of Manjula and I and our work here. Please check here for the videos and a link to their own seeking skies site.

Manjula absolutely adored them, Tom and Madam’s witty banter and humour fed off each other.

Did I mention they’re vegan? Real activists who live their beliefs, working hard to try and save our planet, to show the older generation their mistakes and provide a positive path to the future.

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Thank you Tom and Amy for helping me survive this incredibly difficult time.

 

SF

11th August 2019

Faizan

Faizan, aka Fez, first came into our lives through his work with Royal Mysore Walks.

He has many talents and way up the list is his creative eye. The videos and still shots he takes and crafts are wonderful.

A few days after Manjula and I got married he arrived on the doorstep with a lovely wedding present from the team at Gully Tours (formerly known as Royal Mysore Walks.)

It’s inlay work for which Mysore is rightly famous. He’s just got married himself to the lovely Abida and here we are together at their celebration.

I met his mum and three sisters, there, yes, he comes from a female household. I was struck by their open, friendly approach which of course is not uncommon in India. But there was something else. They were all enthusiastic, dynamic souls, very engaging, great connectors and clearly with a strong social conscience. A real credit to their mum. They also remind me of someone else who was similarly very special.

Faizan is working on a video project for me but look at this one he made earlier. Sad but Grand!

I was away earlier this year for a couple of months and Faizan kindly looked after Lucie and the house while I was away. They are now the best of buddies.

He’s on Instagram as Faizanbaksh and facethingy.

Great response!

Our following increases with more people checking out our postings.

This is a new one however.

Ina the perpetual guest really liked a recent one.

It made her think of a Robbie Burns poem….

She asked why wedding rings are made of gold;

I ventured this to instruct her;

Why, madam, love and lightning are the same,

On earth they glance, from Heaven they came.

Love is the soul’s electric flame,

And gold its best conductor

And then she had this dream….

She entered a jewellery shop,

In the centre of the floor was a wooden chair.

It was covered in carvings of people’s initials.

The jeweller explained that it came from a school where it had been carved by young lovers.

It was symbolic of first love and that was the role of a jeweller recognising and celebrating love.

Ina blames my story for her dream….

Phew

What a week its been.

Detailed negotiations, with from the left Little mummy (Chicamma), lucky luck (sowbaghya) and Tanuja (can’t remember what it means).

With the help of Ina (aka mirror)

Job well done. Thank you for your help Tanu. Chic and Baghya are the new house team for cleaning and cooking.

It’s been a unhappy history trying to sort out help over the past year.

Tanu

Tanu, no let’s get it right her full name is Tanuja Dasharath Haunsbhavi So what does that all mean? D…..is her fathers name and . H…… is their village name.

Here she’s with her husband Keerthi, who’s a film maker. They’ve just called round to pick up a Divan (single bed) for the accommodation she’s just opened for the yoga students that visit Mysore.

So who’s that cheekily, peeking out between them?

I first met Tanu when she was running the Green shop here in Mysore and sold me tea, juice, jams and wonderful elephant cups none of which I’m able to get anymore. I wonder why!? That’s also where Tanu and Manjula first met and which was to grow into a very significant relationship. So who is Tanu and what’s important to her in life?

Tanu reminds me of friends back in England. She has a strong and clear moral direction, is committed to changing society for the better and is a wonderful supportive insightful friend. Some mornings you’ll find her leading groups on nature trails at one of our main lakes here in Mysore. She seems to have fingers into many things. I’ll bump into her at the literary festival, see her selling products at pop-up shops, promoting organic, generally being a connector in our community.

Tanu became a sister to Manjula. Someone she’d call to get things off her chest, probably often about me…. often when I was away, Tanu would be a significant support to Manjula, at the end of the phone and often calling round. Tanu was there straight away to help me when Manjula died.

Now she is one of my most important supports as I deal with the grief and mourning from losing Manjula. She’s been fantastic. Recently becoming involved in our business together with our good friend Satish to take Manjula’s place as director.

A little bird told me of a recent conversation.

A group of Indian wives were discussing the belief amongst some that partners would be reunited when reincarnated. In Kannada it’s: Eelu Eelu janamaku neene nana Ganda/hendati yagabeeku OR for the next seven lives I want you to be my husband/wife

When one of them asked if Tanu would be happy be reunited with her husband she declared:

“Yes, of course but would he be happy to be reunited with me?”

I like this..

I’m up for it and look forward to meeting up with Manjula again, I just need to work out if there’s anything to do, to help it happen.

Oh no not again 2

Well it’s day two and I’m back at Mysore City Corporation.

To recap, I wish to pay for a bench, now grown to two, to be a memorial for Manjula and sited in the park opposite our house.

I’ve now met the the superintending Engineer Bhaskar and his very able technical assistant Meghana. Who reckon they can give permission once my letter comes from the commissioners office and they create a file.

I don’t know who the lady is sitting down but she proved very useful as she loaned Bhaskar glasses to read my letter.

I await with baited breath.

Oh no, not again.

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.

So…..

I also went to pick up a framed picture of Manjula.

Ina

Meet our friends

Ina (aka Thomasina) is one of our more cherished guests. She travelled to Australia, as a young child, with her parents on an assisted passage from Scotland over sixty years ago. So please note, all Australians that went from the U.K. are not crooks 😉 it’s a joke, ok? She’s just been telling me about that first voyage and how they stopped off in Sri Lanka.

 

P1080246Ina first visited us in Mysore five years ago with a plan to meet with Dorjee, a Tibetan Monk living close by in Bylakuppe (reputedly the biggest Tibetan settlement in India, less than two hours away). She had sponsored him for almost twenty years since he was a thirteen year old child when he first came to India. She brought chaos with her on the very first visit. Manjula was away at her mothers, Ina managed to lock me out of the house and brought an unexpected although very welcome guest …. a gate-crashing monk. 🙃

This was their first meeting. A wonderful occasion we were so happy to be part of..

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Ina is from Adelaide in Australia with a lovely family her daughter Naomi, son Daniel and four lovely grand children. She has now visited each year, only missing once when Manjula and I were in the UK and became Manjula’s closest friend amongst the many close friends from our guests.

Ina’s also widowed, as her Singaporean husband Daniel died almost exactly ten years ago. So she has personal insights and has been incredibly supportive, helping me through this astonishingly difficult time.

I would often joke with Manjula that Ina has one of the strongest Scottish accents I’ve ever heard yet has lived in Australia since just a few years old. How did that happen then? She has been known to interpret for other guests yet Manjula never had any problems understanding her.

Ina is with us now and is constantly regaling me with her intimate stories of the time she spent with Manjula. They’d go out on trips together as they did last year to Bylakuppe, we’d celebrate Manjula’s 45th birthday as a group. Birthday breakfast was Ina setting the table, Willian (workawayer from Brazil) chopping the fruit and moi, making the mushies, eggs and toast. We were all on tenterhooks will it meet Madam’s high expectations? Manjula was the boss!

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Manjula admired Ina’s jazzy shoes and just a few weeks later, a parcel arrived in the post, shoes for Manjula.

It’s all a bit of a mixed blessing, as life is now, because I love to hear about Manjula and remember her especially through a close friends eyes but it also reminds me of what I’m missing. We recall how Manjula was so giving and how everyone that’s ever visited us, has taken a bit of Manjula away with them.

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My beautiful, who has gone and left me.

I realise that Ina is a goldmine of reminiscences and must capture whatever I can from her memories of Manjula to help grow Manjula’s story that I’ll post over the next few months. So this morning Faizan came to video Ina’s reminiscences of Manjula.

I do wonder however how Ina will manage during this visit, without Manjula and having to tolerate too much of that chap…. what’s his name again? You know the beautiful Manjula’s husband!

Dreaming

She’s dreaming, check this latest episode from Ina’s stay.

I’ve had to add a bit more… to Ina’s bit on the site. These photos come from her second visit and I’ve now realised how important a person Manjula was to Ina as I’d realised before how Ina was so important to Manjula. Its been hard for Ina being here without her great friend and having to tolerate the Englishman but its been wonderful seeing my beautiful wife from even more angles.

A Mysore view

A short story with a serious edge from Stephen Farrell

A Mysore view

The cyclists meandered around the Rangoli, passed by the Hero Stones and entered the bustling square to find the usual rich mix of India.

Women fetching water and washing their pans, children playing and slowly becoming intrigued, being drawn to the new visitors. Men hanging out at the corner shop.

Slap bang in the centre was a fenced-in stone lingam, with the slow ooze of offerings running down its face.

The onslaught of their senses as they entered the square, the smells, the colours, the activity, the extraordinary mix of people living life to the full, reminded them all of their first experiences of this incredibly, unique, paradoxical, unexpected country. 

The visitors, were themselves a rich variety of ages, nationalities and experience, from Europe, down under, Canada and a couple from Mumbai.

Everyone saw and experienced something subtly different. Maybe it was the different housing ranging from the old mud single room dwelling with its country tile roof, or the three storey concrete towers; the clothing, the women washing the front of their house, dealing with the children, the smiles, the welcoming, the dust, the noise, the smells, the chilli and lemon hanging in the doorway, two wheelers, the multiple designs of Rangoli, the auto rickshaws and the old ambassador, the hanging Mango leaves left from a recent festival, the constant presence of Gods and their many temples and symbols.

That cacophony was reminiscent of all that is India, where different things jostle for attention, cheek by jowl.

Now the group were engulfed with interest from the local people… children posing for photographs… women carrying water and smiling as they passed… the lounge lizards at the shop, the friendly stares and conversations were like a returning boomerang and neatly reciprocated….so we wondered out-loud, who is really watching who? 

Most definitely in these moments that make up every day we were building bridges and breaking down walls . Cycling helps us to be participants, to be travellers and perhaps less of the transient tourist.

It was however time to move on….

The flow of cyclists quietly moved through the remaining narrow streets in this compact community in Mysore. 

We gently pass amongst the houses of the poor and the not so poor, cattle ambling or hanging out in their house sheds, cow pats drying, people greeting us, past endless local temples. This represents a traditional way of life that in some ways has unchanged for hundreds of years. Its people may have little in terms of material goods but have a quality of life that the richer west are looking to rediscover.

Just minutes away from the Palace at the Centre of the City. It’s a reflection of the past, of times gone by, of the village that grew and existed way before it was absorbed into the city, yet still retaining much of that earlier character. Above all, people remain connected to each other creating an atmosphere and lifestyle that can be both positive and life enhancing.

Like the society of which its part. Being taken over whilst retaining its character. 

Like India itself regularly invaded over its vast history, absorbing influences without losing its essence.

On our continuing journey we pass through many more areas of the city that seem somehow less colourful, less inter-connected, the community less active, its dustier and dirtier, congested with traffic, the activity is commercial, people setting up shops cooking breakfast, frying samosas, patting breads, its still active but somehow its different ….. something about it is diminished. Its much more ‘developed!’ in a simple sense.

We stop for a chai, an opportunity to consider what we’ve seen. Our different life experiences bring an added dimension to these conversations. We’re all committed to gaining insights and growing through sharing our, opinions, culture, humour.

In our view, there is nothing to quite match that first neighbourhood and its lively community. Its remarkable in many ways and somehow retains something of its original spirit, people are out and about and outgoing, friendly with easy communications whether its a smile, the one handed namaste, the head rock and roll, above all it seems connected, people gather together when others need help, the community is somehow healthier and seems unbroken as its not lost its spirit to the urban juggernaut.

In contrast other areas of the city seem to have something missing.

The connected community, its traditional approach compared to the other more ‘developed’ areas, can be seen to reflect the challenges facing the bigger city. As we grow and change there is the risk we could lose what makes us special. There’s a clear message that we should recognise what’s important and not lose the richness that we have before its too late.

Overall the city has an incredible mix, institutions set up by the Maharajas to serve the community to help with their health, to develop a vocation and gain an education, for all sectors of the community from wrestlers to Tonga drivers, from villagers wishing to better themselves at college to the city dwellers, the opportunity to meet and share their grievances, everyone can be part.

Here, there is, something of a metaphor for Mysore. The city has managed to retain its human scale in the face of urban development, it has an essence worth keeping, a friendly open aspect, connections between people, traditions, with history oozing from its porous buildings and abundant greenery, whether in the form of its formal gardens, the tree lined avenues, lakes and parks. Yet it is changing, it has to and will develop but we need to mimic what happens in the small village or in this great nations history and hold onto what’s special and makes it unique, the magic of Mysore.

The Author: Stephen Farrell

Stephen is from the UK and has a varied career in charities, government and business, the main emphasise of his work has been to help people engage and connect within their communities or organisations. More recently establishing “Seeing is Believing Events” in India to encourage businesses to be more responsible and create leadership programmes for corporations. Stephen has two adult sons living in Vancouver, Canada and London, England and a gorgeous granddaughter.  He now lives in Mysore, where he’s now set up MyCycle: Mysore Cycle Tours to help visitors discover Mysore, Srirangapatnam and their surroundings at a human pace.  

An important ‘date’, a big event

It happens but once in a lifetime

It takes a fair amount of preparation.

The proud father.

Some are already finding it all too much

Satish explains that both he and his wife are from villages where it’s still very important to celebrate this event

On the day itself he rushed home

It’s now a couple of weeks later on a specially chosen auspicious day. Hundreds of family and friends are expected. There will be a ceremony, gift giving, photos and a slap up meal.

I think that close proximity to the only foreigner at the event might be what’s worrying them.

It’s filling up…… it’s like waiting for a performance.

It’s ….. Sukrutha, Satish daughter’s coming of age, traditionally in villages it would be very very significant as it would signify that a young woman was ready for marriage.

it’s still very important for Sukrutha and an added advantage is, she can now wear big earrings. 🙂

Manjula would have been very sorry to miss this important event in a girl’s life. When Manjula reaches the same age. She had no idea what to expect and when it happened knew absolutely nothing about it. It was an altogether different experience. There was no family there let alone a gathering. She was working away from home as a maid and her madam spotted what was happening, cleaned her up and explained that she’d started her periods.

It obviously came as a major shock to Manjula. What a difference with a stable family and caring parents.

Farrell Factoid

A girls’ first period, known by some as a ‘date’, would traditionally signify that she’s ready for marriage. Clearly not the case nowadays but still incredibly significant stage as she becomes a woman. The celebration of the event is a great opportunity to bring people together and create community, still especially important in village life.

Manjula’s very different background meant she was already out working at someone’s home separated from her family and without prior knowledge of what was to happen. Where was her mum in all this? Look at how early she was working away from home all on her own.