I love the reflective insightful beautifully balanced relationship. I am surprised little dragon doesn’t get fed up with Panda’s clever-dickness or in our case my bossiness.
Masha is a handful and the bear constantly stumbles to manage her whirlwind. Not unlike us. Kaveri can be challenging. 🤔
Stephen and Kaveri have a mix of both relationships, above all it’s fun.
She lives in Hinkal on the other side of Mysore but I get to see her some weekends and during the school summer holiday, when she visits her grandmother, who lives opposite our house.
We’re in the midst of school holidays so she’s here everyday for a few weeks and I’ve introduced ta – ra ta -ra….
Steve’s Summer Camp for Kaveri
We’ve already had walking Lucie, cycling single and tandem, many trips to the cafe, the infamous holiday, games on and off screen, trips to various institutions namely the vets and dentist, outings in the Ambassador, storytelling, shopping for birthday present clothes more and more….
There’s a serious reason for all this related to MAnjula.
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.
For the first time in twelve years I’ve spent part of the winter in the U.K. yes it is different from the summer. 🤭
It’s quite a contrast from the cold wet misery alternating with the pure gray ness to be back in Mysore where yet again the Summer arrives early.
The tree outside our house has already lost it leaves and they’ve returned within the week. But that’s all happened at the end of January instead of March/April.
But the plants around the house are good and Manjula’s garden, less than a year since we planted it, in the park opposite, is looking wonderful with her granite benches standing guard.
It’s in the shape of a ‘m’ or om but you can’t see that without climbing a tree or using a drone.
I’m sitting at my work station listening and reflecting, when a Beatles track, sung by Rufus Wainwright fills the house ….. ’Nothing’s gonna change my world”…
Well guess who it reminded me of? someone who did — dramatically, initially slowly and gently and later, in an instant — change my world
The words fit perfectly.
I’m, here in Mysore, writing draft two (there will be many many more) in the midst of chapter nine (of ‘full full’, which is the working title of ‘our story’). I’m thinking of our nine years together and how Manjula and her love and shining personality transformed my life.
The song continues…….
Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass they slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind
Possessing and caressing me
Jai guru deva, Om
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes
They call me on and on across the universe
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box
They tumble blindly
As they make their way across the universe
Jai guru deva, Om
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Sounds of laughter, shades of love are ringing through my opened ears
Inciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love, which shines around me
Like a million suns and calls me on and on across the universe
Jai guru deva, Om
Nothing’s gonna change my world
Jai guru deva
..Manjula my muse, the moose, my guru 🙂
Except my written words aren’t quite flowing as described in the song.
Next up on the playlist, ‘you have a friend,’ I ask you.
I thought I’d share this after revealing to a new friend Anjali
We have a cup caste regime
From the left steel glass ( I know it’s not glass, just ask an Indian) can be used anywhere and everywhere. Middle, one of our favourite cups with emotional attachment so can only be used in upstairs hall (lounge for you foreigners) and number three can be used anywhere in the house or downstairs sit out as we care less. The most precious, heaps of history and irreplaceable so use is severely restricted.
The point is they can be used by anyone: guests, staff, family some are higher value so should be looked after more than others.
Why do I tell you this?
I joked about the caste of cups because believe it or not in some houses in India the servants aka lower caste are only allowed to drink or eat from separate cups/glasses/plates and utensils. This presumably originates from a belief that they might defile the superior caste.
I tell you this, as you know I love and I’ve adopted India and one wonderful woman in particular. We created a shared home that didn’t reflect those primitive traditional let’s say mediaeval practices.