It’s been a challenge at times with over ten years grieving after Manjula’s diagnosis.
But first MAnjula and our team has continued to do good
Welcoming guests to our home, helping them to love India in their own sweet way
Supporting young people through …
Sponsoring Kaveri and Naveen’s education
Creating innovative events with NGOs and schools within our community for nearly 200 young people
Gifting bicycles, almost 50 since we got engaged
Regular reflective space meetings at mysore BnB for individuals and groups of young people
.
So what next?
We’re moving house and will relaunch (rooms will continue to be available later in the year). Do check http://www.manjulasmysore.in
We’ve committed to supporting Naveen through college and will offer work at the BnB
Our immediate priority will be to sell the art ( ( MAnjula was right, I collected too much) and the money will go towards our next goals in supporting young people (and maybe some more elders.)
Three years ago, one of Kaveri and my favourites was Big Panda and Tiny Dragon
Norbury’s latest book reveals how journeys might be forced on us. We can’t ignore it, we have to adapt and it’s ultimately a positive development.
BUT that depends upon our perspective and how we handle it.
Same with us.
After sixteen years …
I’ve been given notice by the landlord that he wants the house back for a family member.
That’s a big practical undertaking and will be a massive emotional challenge — as I’ll be leaving the home that MAnjula created, shared with thousands around the world and lived in together for nine wonderful years.
Today, SB and I visited a possible alternative.
I hesitate as it isn’t an independent house, however we could potentially have two together on one floor.
That would be four bedrooms, two halls, two kitchen, four toilets/bathrooms, a balcony, and a dining space.
Where could we put the library?
With a view over the rooftops
and the adjoining park.
The other worry I have is the potential neighbours.
The owner seems to be a friendly open and helpful guy.
I expect he’ll be concerned about our different guests coming and going and having to deal with the unknown foreigner.
Pets might be an added problem. We have a cat billet-doux and I may want another dog.
I hope, he realises that our approach to rearing and managing a dog is very different, it’s kind and gentle. With Lucie she had a great temperament. That’s partly down to how we managed her. That’s not always the case here.
After a first glance I think we could make it work.
Registering with the Foreigners Registration Office is always unpredictable and stressful.
It’s extra this time as I’m not knowing where
my next visa will come from
…
Owner wants his house back, after sixteen years, it’s the house I’ve lived in for the longest, in my whole life.
It’s where MAnjula created our home, introduced it to the world as Mysore Bed and Breakfast and where she lit up my life like a smiling sunbeam for nine years. It’s where we sited a blue plaque (as a famous person lived here), her library and entertained thousands of people.
A museum even jokingly claimed it as their annex because it’s a living breathing art gallery from around India.
Pictures, sculptures, paintings, carvings, posters, books, all sorts of artefacts (aka clutter) from around (mainly) India, Europe and even Canada and the US.
…
Continuing to sponsor and support eleven year old Kaveri in spite of her mother and new partner sabotaging us, by changing schools, days of absence and inability to help
In Didion’s book ‘a year of magical thinking’ (well it lasts for longer than a year … like forever) she writes about the vortex, I call it being bushwhacked.
One is ….
Attacked for no apparent reason, as the sadness arises — mainly due to recollections that appear — as if from nowhere.
There’s also a regular hidden sadness that surfaces as intolerant anger.
Sorry everyone.
I’m dealing with CBB — can’t be bothered — but it’ll get sorted.
Yesterday evening as I was waiting outside a shop selling dots for one’s forehead —
—Manjula used to give them as gifts as we travelled through England—
A woman asked where she was.
I pointed to, inside the shop and after a perplexed reaction, realised she wasn’t asking about the little girl (Kaveri) or Manjula, for that matter, but the dog (Lucie).
The girl was stocking up for the return to school.
I’m well known in my area and in Mysore generally but usually because of my appendage.
I am nothing, not even a number.
…
I once walked into a hotel (restaurant) right on the other side of the city, for the waiter to ask me where’s the dog. He also lived in Siddarthanagar.
So I’m well known for who I’m with …
As of this morning, as I realise, I stick out like a sore thumb as generally there’s rarely other firangis (foreigners) here. There’s a new appendage.
A tree
As I was tossing and turning in the midst of my AWOL, nightly sleep I realised there was only this morning for me to be able to decorate the tree for Christmas.
Kaveri will be going back to school.
Kaveri is here for less than 24 hours and we’ve decorated it together for the past three years since we met. I’ll not see her again until a few days after Christmas Day when we’ll belatedly celebrate Christmas.
A bit too late to do the tree
Plus our usual totem is now too big and heavy for the hall aka lounge.
What to do?
Easy
Get up before the girls and after walking as man and dog, I go out again, to the nearest ‘nursery’. It’s run by guys from UP on the roadside. I haggle with them from the Firangi-Gora (white) — tax – price, to something resembling the price a local would pay. About half.
Then as I’m trudging home— convincing myself that I’m exercising my muscle diminishing 60+ years arms —- with very regular rests. I realised I’m another spectacle of the foreigner ‘variety’ who is entertaining the locals, especially the men at the chai shop and the women sweeping the streets. They’re interested as no one can possibly work out why the rich foreigner is carrying a tree and not using an auto rickshaw.
A wonderful young man, rescues me from the ordeal of the last stretch, stops for me to balance precariously on the back of his bike and gets me home.
I’ve become the foreigner, not only with dog and girl but now the tree
It suits me
…
Ok it doesn’t look very heavy but the weight is in the pot.
It’s now decorated.
But now the cats eyeing it up, for a potential attack thankfully for the moment she seems satisfied with the empty decoration boxes.
There’s a short chapter on ‘the language of love’ my reaction is not surprising, given the subject.
It happens ‘sometimes’. …
There’s a physical tightening of the stomach and a sort of shift in the eyes and forehead leading to the feeling of tears welling and a teeny moisturising of the eyes. I’m still making my way through the fantasy fairground tunnel of love slowly through the thick mud of grief gravy. Whilst I’ll never get to the end I need to ensure I break into the positive memory zones and rediscover tolerance.
On the way I’m reminded of previous moments of our wonderful life that I was lucky enough to share with my MAnjula.
Her love was constant (probably) and consistent built on her strengths of attentiveness and presence. I love her more as I’m share more of its layers passing through this crazy tunnel.
I realise that I’ve written this with John Lennon’s Woman playing in the background and it all started with you are my sunshine.
Lyrics below
Woman I can hardly express My mixed emotions at my thoughtlessness After all, I’m forever in your debt
And woman I will try to express My inner feelings and thankfulness For showing me the meaning of success
…
Woman I know you understand The little child inside the man Please remember, my life is in your hands
And woman Hold me close to your heart However distant, don’t keep us apart After all, it is written in the stars
…
woman Please let me explain I never meant to cause you sorrow or pain So let me tell you again and again and again
I love you, yeah-yeah Now and forever I love you, yeah-yeah Now and forever I love you, yeah-yeah Now and forever I love you, yeah-yeah Now and forever
——-
You are my sunshine
You are my sunshine My only sunshine You make me happy When skies are gray You’ll never know, dear How much I love you Please don’t take My sunshine away
The other night, dear As I lay sleeping I dreamed I held you In my arms When I awoke, dear I was mistaken So I hung my head and cried
You are my sunshine My only sunshine You make me happy When skies are gray You’ll never know, dear How much I love you Please don’t take My sunshine away
Me and MYCycle 