Bursting

We’re bursting at the seams. Wherever you turn there’s evidence.

We now have plants in the drive out the front, inside and outside the gate, down both sides of the house, in the back yard and on the mid level roof. There’s hundreds of them. We plan to create a small garden in the park this year so that will use half the plants. Let’s hope the mosquitoes will go with them.

Most Indian houses have little if any art. It’s an unnecessary (not) expense and very middle class. As I arrived with the latest offering MAnjula would complain that there was too much art and not room for anymore. Wrong!

Our latest addition

An appliqué banner, created by the multi-talented Jacqui using Manjula’s clothing has just arrived from England and is now by our main door.

An earlier addition was this beautiful portrait.

There’s always room for art.

Next Manjula would joke about there being too many books, and how we should open a library.

So here it is…. Manjula’s library… available for local friends and our guests. (Yes they’re also friends.)

and that’s carefully avoiding mentioning anyone who’s bursting at the seams.

A red bicycle

We’re reaching out to a whole new generation

Ritu
Ritu’s picture of our house.

Her mother asked why is there a cycle on the roof? She explained that this is Stephens house.

Ritu’s father Somesh visited with Aadirika to take photos of her wonderful portrait of Manjula and Lucie.

Aadirika is hiding

We’re going to find ways for Manjula to continue to reach out to young people.

Magnanimous MAnjula

It’s one of those wishing differently days so great to announce more of Manjula’s gifts.

Divya on her new bicycle.
Niece of the night watchman Malesh who we know from ten years ago when he was night watchman for the building site next door to our house.
Sowbhagya helping me deliver the bicycle.

Manjula gave gifts to Divya, Naveen, Tanuja and Jossica.

Naveen and Sowbhagya.
Tanuja, Keerthi and Jossica

Thank you Manjula and Aadirika

for working together to create this beautiful image.

‘Beloved’
A portrait of Manjula

Stephen’s love for Manjula .
Weaves a bridge,
between our worlds.
A bridge made of heart strings,
a bridge of exploration to the multi dimensional.
Manjula’s love for Stephen.
Pierces through the veil,
as a warm ray on a chilly day.

by Aadirika Kawa

I love my new Manjula. It’s been well worth the wait
I understand how much skill and creativity it has taken.
I realise there’s so many dimensions to this living and breathing painting,
I can see different aspects depending upon where  I stand, the lighting and how its photographed.
This has taken so much love and dedication to create.

Manjula would laugh and tease me, claiming we already had too many paintings. I can’t get enough of her.

Thank you for my wonderful Christmas present and presence.

See more of the artist’s work and follow here

Manjula gives masks

mask mask mask mask no shortage of them at Mysore Bed and Breakfast

As part of remembering Manjula: Vasanth and Satish distributes mycycle masks and small monetary gift to each of our team of drivers.
Our big thanks to Ina seen here on the right at Manjula’s birthday party. Ina sent money to help drivers.
Babu
We love logo as it’s part of celebrating Manjula.
Anjum
Lokesh
Non branded supplies from Vasanth.
Shafi
Akram

One or two great books

In Manjula’s library on grieving…..

Adult books. My two top picks would be Didion and Grief and Grieving.
and children’s books, that this child loves. Memory Tree and Heart and the Bottle are fab but they’re all great.

Manjula’s kind

Brain pickings on kindness and grief, because like everything in the world they’re connected.

KINDNESS

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

If you haven’t yet discovered brain pickings do pay it a visit and consider joining its mailing list and offering support.

“Those who experience, not the arts, but nature, may have a similar response, and also those who experience another human being. Do we not know the feeling that overtakes us when we are in the presence of a particular person and, roughly translates as, The fact that this person exists in the world at all, this alone makes this world, and a life in it, meaningful.” Viktor Frankl also from Brain Pickings

Or more on grieving

Grief… happens upon you, it’s bigger than you. There is a humility that you have to step into, where you surrender to being moved through the landscape of grief by grief itself. And it has its own timeframe, it has its own itinerary with you, it has its own power over you, and it will come when it comes. And when it comes, it’s a bow-down. It’s a carve-out. And it comes when it wants to, and it carves you out — it comes in the middle of the night, comes in the middle of the day, comes in the middle of a meeting, comes in the middle of a meal. It arrives — it’s this tremendously forceful arrival and it cannot be resisted without you suffering more… The posture that you take is you hit your knees in absolute humility and you let it rock you until it is done with you. And it will be done with you, eventually. And when it is done, it will leave. But to stiffen, to resist, and to fight it is to hurt yourself. Elizabeth Gilbert

Manjula has the sweetest smile

Looking on the bright side.

Manjula is my smiling kindness guru.

This morning I waved and gave a free smile to every cyclist. It’s a happy thing to do and helps connect us at this distant time.

I follow her and try spread her smile

and obviously need to do better.

……

At times I’ve slipped and realise I’ve adopted a local approach of: ‘It’s good enough’ and ‘it’ll do’, but it wasn’t and it didn’t do. That’s when the dark cloud engulfs me with sadness instead of just following me around. But this morning I was in the positive happy frame of mind.

What we give out is returned we just don’t know when, where and how.

My guru expects me to see and be the positive. I’m slowly learning.

Ripple effect

Sowbhagya (SB) has had a lot to deal with because of the situation at our house and been in quarantine with a big fat sticker on her door announcing to the world. Her neighbours have been ugly and unsupportive. She challenged her neighbours when they were claiming she was positive and announcing it on a Facebook page. A policeman was a great help.. The bright side is that she now feels strengthened and some of it comes from working here. Manjula’s kind, positive and continues to give.

Unfortunately it has also affected her father whose roadside food business has suffered.

It brings it home to me, how much we need to be aware of how our actions affect others, try on their ‘coat’ to better understand things from their point of view. Unfortunately, too often we don’t try or care.

Look on the bright side of life is a wonderful song from this film.

Monty Python’s Life of Brian