Manjula’s Breakfast

April 5, 2019April 5, 2019 SF2 Comments

Thank you! Prajwal, Kainath, Sachin and Faizan of Royal Mysore Walks (aka Gully Tours) for bringing breakfast to share.

Lovely thought, great conversation, special people.

Peachy

April 3, 2019 SF2 Comments

Manjula fell in love with peaches during our two extended holidays in the U.K.

She couldn’t get enough them but unfortunately they are unavailable in Mysore. So the Super Troopers Tom and Amy brought some from the UK. Her face lit up and she wolfed them down. That is, except the tinned peaches!

So what to do with them?

Well we walked up Chamundi Hill. Chamundeshwari who lives on the hill being Manjula’s No 1 God.

Carefully opened the Sainsbury’s can …..

And celebrated Manjula in the setting sun.

My life, my key, my saviour

April 2, 2019 SF2 Comments

Absolutely nothing ever goes to plan or as expected.

The 11th day, of Pooja for Manjula is now the day after the one originally planned, so unfortunately non of our Indian friends are able to come. The appropriate date is calculated by some mystic, the stars or pure whim, who knows? The event organised by Manjulas brother and family will be in a village with no one that we really know. It doesn’t really matter. But…. Non of us will speak Kannada or have any idea whats going on. Then there’s the whole issue of me bringing her mangal sutra and ankle chains and getting them back to take home. So there’s a few things to understand and manage.

That’s today’s first challenge.

Then there was….

the Merry-go-round of trying to collect Manjula’s body from the hospital,

..or the case of the missing engagement ring and wedding sari.

It’s one thing after another.

It’s becoming more and more apparent that Manjula has been my golden key to help open the lock of India she’s enabled me to relatively easily surf the uncertain waters, the buffering of the white water. That’s now gone.

India well and truly takes you out of your comfort zone and then pushes you out a bit further and a bit further and further still into unchartered waters.

She was also my life life saver in so many ways.

But of course, she’s still with me.

Manjula’s Memorial

April 1, 2019 SF8 Comments

A wonderful photo of beautiful Manjula, the daily local pungent jasmine flowers, roses, her constant companion favourite WOMAD water bottle, Buddha, painting of Luci, wedding present wood inlay of Manjula the personification of Mysore Bed and Breakfast, one oft favourite photos of the wedding.

Celebrating Manjula

March 31, 2019April 2, 2019 SFLeave a comment

Thank you for your condolences and the lovely memories of Manjula that I’ve received from around the world. It’s been a great support and shows how many connections Manjula made. We now know that many of you have very fond and we’re not surprised of the sometimes funny stories about Manjula. It’s given us a great idea, to create a scrapbook of reminiscences and images, they might be anecdotes, insights into her character, simple little stories, a particular photo you love or may be you can draw a picture, write a poem or create some art work.

Whatever you think represents Manjula for you.

Send yours preferably by Friday of this week via Email, <tours@mycycle.co> or by messenger, post or pigeon. Don’t worry, it doesn’t need to be slick and polished

We’ll then create an actual book and a virtual version for you to read online.

Love from

Stephen and Luci

Things need doing…

March 31, 2019 SF2 Comments

Tom Amy and I are doing focussed practical things. Backing up the Digital photos and giving the kitchen a thorough clean. Well actually it mainly Tom and Amy.

I’ve just been sent to close the balcony door. Manjula would always tell me that the troup of monkeys would come on a weekend and usually a Sunday so the doors shouldn’t be left open. The last thing is we don’t want the monkeys playing on the computer.

Well I don’t need to close it. Luci is on guard.

But looking closer

I see the sadness in her eyes. She’s missing Manjula, so we have big cuddle and talk of her.

It’s wonderful that Tom and Amy are here. It would be impossible for Luci and I being here on our own.

Tom has music playing and incense sticks burning but there is an unmistakable presence.

The smiles, the laughter, her giggles, tolerance of me and my idiotic ways. She’s with us now tut tutting at how we’re doing the cleaning and wishing she was here to do a proper job.

Manjula is in the air and in our hearts. It’s really quite good.

Swop?

March 30, 2019 SF1 Comment

I can understand how some people might wish to swop places with their loved one who has died or been diagnosed with a terminal illness.

I could do that, no doubt.

But it misses one of the many points.

There would still be the grief, the loneliness, confusion of being only one part of the whole.

And how would it work? I would take on Manjula’s illness she would have all our money, material goods (she’d definitely demand the washing machine) the house, Lucy. No sweat. But it’s no solution. We’d still be apart. Maybe we could go for a hybrid two halves as one.

No I’m not going bonkers this is how my mind ordinarily ‘works’.

If it was just a case of a straight swop. I’d worry that even though Manjula can be strong as a rock, gentle as the waves, she actually comes from a very poor background and in this extremely layered patriarchal society it will always be a challenge for a woman on her own.

Until of course it really changes.

Manjula …. Taking back control

March 29, 2019 SF2 Comments

The idiots in the British Government at the head of the Conservative party seem to have completely lost it, and not just in terms of Brexit

On the other hand …. it’s quite another matter for a woman in Mysore ……

Her main purpose in our nine years together was to invite people to share her home and to connect. In those years she’d done everything to create a beautiful, clean, comfortable open welcoming home. Not just the cleaning, cooking, preparing rooms for the guests, managing the staff, coordinating transport and the garden and above all create that warm, welcoming atmosphere that something in the air.

That useless lump of a husband by contrast was only the booking clerk. She so loved pointing that out!

Of this achievement she was rightly proud. This week we’ve received hundreds of messages from around the world, a testament to how she’s drawn people close to her, connected with them and left behind a piece of her.

This last season, as she lost so much weight and at times became poorly, she would often reflect with me that now that she could do none of what she did over the years. It wasn’t true of course, after talking it through she’d agree that the most important the meeting, greeting and chatting, connecting with people was still very much her role and what she’d love doing. It’s the main reason why we were open over this last season. It was what kept her going.

Recorded on 12th March

She very much kept control, she had a network, fetching and carrying, the fruit and veg for breakfasts delivered by the shop, the gardener dropping in her own Breakfast, Sudha bringing home cooked food every day, organising transport, managing the staff, I’d even jokingly bought her a bell to use when she wanted me but the innovator, the strong woman that she was would just have to ring my phone and pavlov’s dog would come running.

I’d joke that it wasn’t like this before we got married.

But there’s another less comfortable aspect of her taking control.

I think she’d had enough and knew it was time to go.

She was fed up of the uncertainty, the to and fro from the different doctors and clinics, the loss of weight, feeling ill, the many many many drugs she was taking every day, the dodderyness, the tests. She absolutely hated the blood tests, it had all got too much. Last week on Wednesday the doctors wanted to admit her, she wouldn’t go. We went home. I discussed it with her. She eventually decided to go back in on the Friday to an ordinary ward. She was admitted to the ICU as her condition had deteriorated. As we prepared to leave home in the Ambassador to go to the hospital she had one careful look around the lounge, as if she was taking it all in, one last time or as others suggested that she could see something else telling her it was time.

Manjula had a heart attack that evening and was brought back to life then again in the morning she had another and in line with her wishes I asked the doctors to let her go.