Category: Manjula still with me

The days after, three years ago

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Doing my duty…

When one suffers such loss that forms a trauma and it’s aftermath, it’s an extra challenge to focus on the positive.

It’s especially difficult at anniversary time. There’s a preoccupation with the loss, the guilt, a blaming.

In this month there’s also helpful reminders of good, our wedding ceremonies.

Some might wonder why I follow so ‘religiously’ the traditions. It’s simply my love and devotion for MAnjula.

I always tried my best to do what she wanted
And she was bossy

The day afterwards brings out memories of when she was laid to rest on her bed, outside our house with the tell tale symbols of the smouldering wood informing the neighbourhood what was happening. Next we’d go to the industrial shed-oven aka crematorium and before that a puja by the side led by Manjula’s brother.

A kindly neighbour brought Bhagavad Gita to help emphasise our duty not to become too attached to our loved ones and to help their soul spirit move onto another body.

Here’s me doing precisely that…..

Do follow the link and check the video at the end where I’m at one of the most significant places on Srirangaptnam; visited on every cycle tour over the past ten years.

I was so lucky

The evening before

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Smileys appear on our street.

I’m reminded of how I’d felt the need to protect my broken heart — like this one in a bottle — while looking around me at the images of my beautiful MAnjula which trigger happy joyful memories of our wonderful but short time together.

Tomorrow we’ll share a meal with MAnjula and a few close friends.

This week

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March is a month of significant memories.

Always Together

It began with our wedding at the city corporation, followed a few days later with a celebration on Srirangaptnam.

Two years running she was admitted to intensive care and sadly and devastatingly died three years ago on the 23rd.

We do Pooja on that anniversary, help her on her way and remember fantastic times with a wonderful woman.

Here’s a video memory created by our good friend Tom, Manjula showing one of her many skills and most importantly her kindness of giving.

A visit to Kannur

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I’m sitting with Lucie in our room, at Chera Rocks, which opens directly onto the beach.

It’s been another hot day which cools slightly as we pass 4 0’clock.

We have been visiting our wonderful friends Sally and Shabaz, before Eastenders Sally sadly returns to the U.K.

Together we’ve retraced Manjula and my steps during previous holidays, including Manjula’s deep desire 😉 to visit the drive-on-beach.

Just Walking on the drive-on-beach.
Making New friends

This morning Sally and I walked along the beaches to visit Rosie and Nazir of Kannur Beach House and share my photos of Manjula.

Rosie, Nazir and their family became good friends after we visited many times.

Manjula and I in Kannur to celebrated our engagement in 2015

Manjula’s look of absolute bliss laying on the beach by Kannur Beach House on that first holiday together.
Our very last trip exactly three years ago, shortly before she died, here we’re catching up with Rosie and Nazir.
with me in many ways

It’s time for a last swim. We return to Mysore tomorrow.

We’ve bonded on this trip after I’d been away for almost three months

We did it, followed by a shared shower, Lucie thinks it was all too much. She waits until carefully positioned next to cascade her water drops on my clothes and bag. Ha bloody ha …

and a final walk before dinner.

Philosophical thoughts

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India stimulates all sorts of reflections like …. What’s the purpose of the line?

a boundary, a border, between in and out? Here and there? Normal and abnormal? The limen … an important guide, the threshold, between one world and another.

If India is anything to go by, it may have no use, other than helpfully creating ‘purposeful’ work.

I pity the poor guy — with his trusty leaf blower and a hanky round his mouth, — who momentarily shifts the dust from the road and into a cloud to probably help the paint stick,

On both our trips to England, Manjula was amazed and intrigued at how the traffic stayed within the lines that marked the lanes.

Weddings, I’ve seen a few.

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Wonderful decoration at Lakshmi’s parent’s house next door and after twelve years living here I still forget and turn up on time. Where is everyone?
The tying of the knot is actually tomorrow. This is the reception

Thankfully it’s filling out and I recognise a couple of people, so correct day and place.

I’m in a new phase in addition to visiting places where I’ve already been with Manjula, like many of the central London attractions, I now find myself wishing she was with me in new situations.

Well she is !
Ripples of excitement as people are recognised and celebrated.

These are critical events in connecting community.

It’s getting late and nothings happened yet. I haven’t planned this properly and should have eaten. I might beat a hasty retreat.

I’ll be back in the morning.

Tomorrow Lakshmi and Sunil tie the knot. Today at reception, only soft drinks, it’s gifts and photos.

Travelling around 2

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A king’s love for India reflected in the Pavilion

Tom and Amy, aka the lovely couple, who Manjula and I adopted after the first of many visits to Mysore Bed and Breakfast.

Their apartment looks out onto the sea. What a fab location.

Brighton and Hove on the English south coast an hour from London.

Cherishable

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Today’s cherishable sad and sweet memories are the times Manjula and I spent together.

Here

The writer Didion coined the term ‘vortex’ in her book ‘a year of magical thinking’ about the year after her husband died.

It helpfully describes when one is ambushed by trigger memories of good times spent together.

But I wasn’t ambushed, as I fully expected it.

These are sad and tearful yet happy treasured moments in central London. I know it so well yet it now has an other dimension.

grief gravy

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I have swam in it, swallowed it, fought it, opened my arms to it, shrivelled from it, tolerated it, hated it,.. It’s hit me like a personal tsunami, been wishy washy, sticky beyond treacle, invaded my brain to make it fuzzy and cracked open my tentative comfort zones. I know it’s a lifelong friend I have to accept it. It’s equal with and probably surpasses the combined effect of all the worse times in my life and for the first time uncovered real solid regrets.

It’s a gravy train that doesn’t bring benefits or maybe it does.

My heart was broken by losing Manjula, I covered it up and held it close but now I’m beginning to feel able to open my heart again. So there are positives to discover and learning to reveal.

I now love Manjula even more and in ways that I couldn’t imagine. I’m tentatively beginning to be kind to myself.

Part two of this series of postings is the heart

Thank you for your support during this horrendous journey.

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I love you Manjula

Little rituals

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For almost 2 1/2 years I’ve received daily iPhone notifications —like the one below —reminding me to switch the water on and off. This is to pump water from the sump to the header tank and for the house to not run dry (a common system where we live). The messages were set up by Tom after we realised I needed a reminder. Without Manjula’s physical presence in the house it wouldn’t get done.

MAnjula collected coins in a make up bag. Each morning I take out ten rupees for my morning tea break while walking with Lucie. Thanks Manj.

Lucie waits patiently at the top of the stairs for me to go backwards and forwards getting ready to walk. At the last moment she peers in manjulas library as a reminder to check that I’ve bolted the balcony door.

I look in and smile at two of the many portraits of Manjula that fill the house.

Occasionally placing a T light in this wonderful engagement present brought all the way from Australia

A favourite photo, emergency escape and engagement present.

All pieces of the jigsaw of our life. The missing pieces’ essence is present in every one of them.

I’ve chosen to deal with my grief companion head-on. Others will do it differently. Who knows what’s the best way, our experiences are completely individual. The pain is there, whatever but I try to minimise the suffering.

Daily bittersweet tears

I share Manjula’s story wherever and whenever I can. In the dentists waiting room, even the treatment chair, during the morning tea break, handing out cards inviting people to appreciate our garden.

It’s important to me.

She probably thinks I’m ridiculous. 🤭

Last night was my second appearance at an open mic. MAnjula did get a mention (that’s the point) it was three intertwined love stories. But I ran out of time. The story of my life. If reincarnation and reconnecting souls is true, maybe I’ll have more time with Manjula’s sweet kind soul.