Category: Stephen’s Story

What happens after we die?

SF9 Comments

A letter to my Granddaughter Poppy.

I’m staying with her and her mum and dad.

It’s her dad Ben’s birthday.

This morning on waking Poppy gave me sweets and asked if Manjula liked them and if we could telephone her.

So she doesn’t know about what’s happened, or maybe she does and she’s looking to me for further explanation and understanding, hence this letter to be read out….. to her, which I’ve just done after supper

Manjula has died.

When people’s bodies become tired and can’t manage anymore they stop working, they die. Usually it’s when they are older, sometimes when they are younger.

It’s OK to be sad, to miss her and to cry. I do a lot of the tIme. She’s still with us in our hearts and in our minds.

We don’t know what happens to their spirit when someone dies because it’s not happened to us yet. Most of us believe part of us, usually called our spirit carries on.

Manjula (and I and lots of people in India) believe that part of us carries on and usually comes back and lives within another body. So that would mean we never really die, nobody really knows.

In India when someone’s body stops working it’s cremated and the funeral ceremonies are about helping her spirit move on….

Some people think that afterwards they hang around in a beautiful place, like a valley, where they sing, dance and have great fun.

Some believe we’ll catch up with each other again, hold hands continue to be friends and carry on.

Some people believe that butterflies or dragonflies are messengers or they find some other way to pass a message back to their loved ones.

I know Manjula’s spirit is still alive – where exactly I don’t know – maybe waiting for me, maybe waiting to be the spirit once she finds another body.

We know she was loved and gave love and we can’t ask for anything more we still love and miss her.

I know she had a happy life when we were together, she was a very good person, looked after others wherever and whenever she could. I think and believe our spirits will meet again somewhere in the future.

So it’s sad because we miss Manjula but it’s also happy because she’s left us with wonderful memories, she’s still in our hearts and her spirit lives on.

Follow this link for picture book suggestions.

Happiness is a choice you make

SF1 Comment
Great insights from older people. accepting ‘what is’ and it’s proving to be very helpful in my current situation. Loss is being human, shared by everyone. Quality of life is how we react to events not the event itself. Being thankful for everyday.

I chose Manjula and she chose me. That made us very happy for which I am very grateful.

Secrets of Happiness from the Oldest of the Old

A journalist spent a year following six people 85 and older. He found life lessons for all ages.

From The Guardian

by Mary Kane

Photo by Getty Images

Many of us worry about what our lives will be like in our final years. But after spending a year following six people ages 85 and older, The New York Times reporter John Leland came to some surprising conclusions about old age and contentment later in life. His work inspired his book, Happiness Is a Choice You Make: Lessons From a Year Among the Oldest Old (Sarah Crichton Books, $16), which comes out in paperback in January. In this lightly edited conversation with Associate Editor Mary Kane, Leland talks about applying the wisdom of the oldest old to our lives at any age.

You write, “If you want to be happy, think like an older person.” Can you explain how that works?

We know from a lot of research that older people are more content with their lives than younger people are. Thinking like an older person is thinking about resilience and focusing on what is as opposed to what is not. Accepting your mortality by not being so afraid of it. When you are older, you view the time horizons in front of you differently. You understand the days are finite, and we might as well enjoy the ones we have left. The big lesson for me, the really practical one, is waking up in the morning and saying, “Thank God for another day.” It’s the conscious practice of gratitude.

Can you explain what you call “selective forgetting”?

We do forget the horrible things in our lives to a great extent but not entirely. The traumas of our lives stay with us. But we’re constantly writing the stories of our lives, and there are lots of things we’re filtering out. Usually our stories are about the positive things. That flu that almost killed you—you forget about how miserable you were. You just remember that it didn’t kill you. That friend you made when you were 14—that’s something you remember.

[The people I interviewed] saw loss as part of what it is to be human. It doesn’t make loss any more fun. But you’re not being singled out for punishment. You’re sharing that same experience with every other person that’s ever lived.

What do you mean when you say happiness is a choice?

You come to understand that the quality of our lives isn’t based in the events of our lives. It’s really in the reaction to the events in our lives. That’s a really useful thing, to realize “I don’t have control over some of the events in my life, like the weather, but I actively have a say in how I respond to the weather.” The title of the book is Happiness Is a Choice You Make, but the key word isn’t happiness. It’s choice. It’s declaring that you won’t be defined or determined by the circumstances of your life. You have a say in this. That declaration is liberating. That liberation is happiness. Happiness isn’t just the thing you choose; it’s the act of choosing it that makes you happy.

You talk about the essence of what you learned: “to shut down the noise and fears and desires that buffet our days and think about how amazing, really amazing, life is.” Can we all do this?

There are things we can do to change our ways of thinking and improve the quality of our lives. I’m not talking about depression, which is a serious illness that kills people and needs to be treated. But you can be focusing on what is, not what you don’t have and what you’re missing. Optimism doesn’t mean the future is going to necessarily be better. It means seeing that the present is better.

We are so detached from the oldest old, in a way previous generations were not. How can we address that?

We think of old age as some sort of place to visit—and not a pleasant place. But just spending time with the old is sometimes all we can do, and the most important thing we can do. Give older people a chance to talk. Find out what they care about, and what’s important to them. Older people aren’t being asked about what they need. They are being told what they need by people who have never been old.

This article was written with the support of a journalism fellowship from the Gerontological Society of America, Journalists Network on Generations and Silver Century Foundation.

This post originally appeared on Kiplinger and was published December 31, 2018. This article is republished here without permission.

Seven weeks

SFLeave a comment

Emotional titbit

I’ve avoided going to our local hotel for a parcel (take out).

During Manjula’s last few months when unable to cook, her friend Sudha would bring a home cooked meal for her each day. I’d get a parcel from Dose Corner. So it’s a firm memory.

Well it’s been seven weeks now so I forced myself go fetch a meal and help move on.

Its a great meal and costs just 110 rs

It’s maybe not surprising but even something as simple as getting the meal is very emotional with tears welling up.

I’m slowly shifting towards happier memories. Last night I put together first stages of the photo book. I’ve been avoiding it.

It was really therapeutic. Not straightforward but really nice to do.

Moving on… with Manjula with me.

It has to change.

SFLeave a comment

You have my sympathies.

I’ve posted what must seem a constant stream of feelings. It also can’t be easy to find your way around the many postings.

It reminds me of an interview I gave to a journalist in the UK, years ago. I was working on an innovative approach to engage local communities in helping guide local public services to be more responsive to their needs. After I’d explained my approach. He said, so you launch a whole series of custard pies some hit and some even stick While some fall by the wayside.

I’m beginning to think meandmycycle.com is not dissimilar. A series of disconnected postings ranging from the bizarre, mildly interesting and hopefully a fair few that connect to you.

I’m working on that same theory. Randomly works, sometimes.

Thank you for sticking with it and me.

But I think I need to get a bit better organised and the blog more focussed.

So over the next few weeks I’ll start to focus on:

Our story, with two separate parts Manjula’s amazing story (I’m not biased, the more interesting by far) and Stephen’s

There will also be insights into this amazing country….

Life in India

and some bits a pieces:

Titbits a sort of hotch potch

Clearly labelled (yeh!)

I’ll use feedback to review, amend and revise.

So please….. As always, comments are appreciated and feedback on what works for you and suggestions of how I can improve would be great.

Thanks for your invaluable support.

Have a heart

SFLeave a comment

You’d think that after almost four years of Manjula and my experiences of the ill health industry, that would have been enough.

Well no, clearly not. I’ve had a battery of check up tests including an ECG with a little irregularity spotted, so move one step forward to ECHO.

Result is ….. high blood pressure has resulted in slightly enlargement means watch diet, do exercise and monitor blood pressure. At or over 140 on a regular basis go see the Doctor.

I had, of course, to make my stale joke about there not being any stress in my life. 🙃

Kerala farewell

SF3 Comments

We’re slap bang in the middle of a highway

Winds are picking up and rushing through Lucie’s hairs.

The traffic is relentless but not orderly. We are in India. There are always patterns so it’s invariably differently organised from what you’d expect from the point of view of a westerner.

Much of the traffic is fully loaded others on the lookout antennae twitching, scouring, searching for its next load to carry back to the nest.

I wonder….What time do ants get up to start their working day?

The sun rises burning off the moisture lifting the misty fog.

It’s quite noisy with bird life making its presence known. Now and then the crack of a gun. What do they shoot out here? Rabbits? Birds? Wild boar?

Manjula is with us on the rocky outcrop in the mini photo I’ve introduced to everyone we met on this trip. She’s probably met as many people as we did on our mini holidays. It’s a bit weird as I don’t give the full details, just that she’s my wife from Mysore.

It’s time to move. The old mans knees and calf muscles are showing signs of age as every day passes

Lucie the pack leader that she is, the one to track through memory and smell leads the way.

A siren blares. Think Second World War. It’s time for work at the tea plantation or factory.

“Luce wait for me.”

She chooses not to wait for me. By the time I reach our hillside cottage she’s way past it down at the bottom waiting for breakfast.

Another great Kerala Wayanad breakfast and now it’s time to move again and leave the Dhanagiri homestay.

Thanks to Anant and his lovely family.

Today’s adventure

SF1 Comment

Lovely group of young people on summer camp organised by outback adventures more info here

The stick is magic, of course and together with the sling, were used to entertain and help create team chaos. 🙃 Thanks to Faizan for inviting me to another diversionary tactic.

Friends

SFLeave a comment

Friends in Sri Lanka

The geezer kept following me around, he’s known in both India and Sri Lanka. The local storyteller in Galle Fort told me he was Makara. Check him out here

I’ve made some other cool friends on this latest trip to Sri Lanka. Here’s the youngest sharing my breakfast and.,,,

Nicking my shoes and socks. In conversations with her mum I realised that Sri Lankan’s are more than happy with the standard of the govt schools where I believe most children are sent and taught in local language. So not like India, except perhaps in Kerala.

My good driver friend, Nandan

Visa escapades in Jan and March

SF2 Comments

Here’s an update on my visa situation. Be prepared it’s a long one!

I’ve been based here for nine years. I’ve set up a tourism business for Manjula to ensure she has a secure income.

The first mention of a little local difficulty was Here where I give credit where it’s due

The story starts when entering Bangalore Airport in August (after five weeks in U.K.) I was questioned by FRRO/immigration. They let me in but insisted I register with the FRRO on arrival in Mysore. I did. I’m a bit confused as to why.

Anyway, I registered.

So in October, I get a phone call from Anant, one of the original Directors of the company. He’d been contacted by the FRRO (police/immigration) in Bangalore with a whole series of questions. They were investigating me.

Subsequently they wrote to the very local police station asking them to contact me and get documents and a statement. They were focusing on the fact that I’d ‘wilfully’ not registered at the mysore FRRO each time I’d come back into the country.

I wrote a statement saying that if I had to register and hadn’t it was purely a mistake. I also explained Manjula and I had got married earlier this year, the company was set up for her, I wasn’t employed by the company and received no remuneration. They subsequently asked for my tax returns which I couldn’t supply as there were none as I wasn’t employed and had no income. Get it? 🙃

So as of last week.

I was due to fly to Sri Lanka for my first ever visa run. The time between my arrival in August and the next time in the U.K. was over 180 days so I had to leave the country by the end of Jan.

So what could go wrong?

The day before I was due to leave the Mysore FRRO telephoned and asked me to come in. It was the same helpful chap featured here

Bangalore had informed him, they had decided that I was on the wrong visa.

Sugar!

It was presumably because of the low level of investment/turnover in the business. It’s a small business predominantly for Manjula so doesn’t earn much money and doesn’t require much investment, just some furniture and cycles.

Sugar, this is a real problem. If I leave the country as planned they will not let me back in……

This is a critical time for us.

It’s our busiest time with just a few days with hardly any guests so my plan has been to nip out and rush straight back. Also Manjula had not been well, because of a recurring problem (more later) so I was essentially holding it all together (that’s juggling all the stuff, preparing rooms, making breakfast, leading cycle tours. ( I know, I know violins are playing, but I’m a man, multi tasking is NOT easy) thankfully there was the help of our two cleaners and a Special mention for Tom, Amy, Anne and Dave and of course the forbearance of my panicking – will he get back in- wife.

I’ve just got to go. It’s now or never but it can’t drag on.

What to do?

I feel like I’m appearing in Fawlty Towers and Keystone cops! here I come 🙃

The great guy at the police commissioners gave me an option. Apply for an x (aka entry) visa as a spouse. Great idea. I wonder how long would this take? I just can’t be away from home and Manjula for more than a few days. It doesn’t seem feasible.

I’d planned to fly out of Mysore to Chennai, then onto Colombo on the friday (next day) and back on Sunday. Tickets were bought, small bag packed. Eek.

Tom had a solution: Get a tourist e visa to get back in. I applied on the Thursday, it would take 72 hours to be processed, I flew out on the Friday due back on the Sunday but wouldn’t expect to get the visa until Monday so would forego the flights and dash back as soon as I got the visa. Then I would fly in to Chennai where I’d hope they’d let me in.

Phew. Sounds like a good idea. An Indian solution.

I apply and I’m off….

So it’s Saturday and this trip has proven to be one mishap after another. More details here.

After a day walking aimlessly in Colombo I had supper ( no micro breweries) and headed back to the hotel with my sea view from the balcony.

You know, sometimes things just work out. It’s a hallmark of India. On getting back I get an email confirming my e tourist visa. Wonderful! Not only has it arrived it’s in time for me to go back as planned on the Sunday using the tickets I’d bought!

So what was Sri Lanka like? Loved it. As they say it’s India lite. More later.

Back in our piddling little airport. Yes we walk from the plane.

Next.

I go and get an x visa in March in Sri Lanka when we’re not busy and hopefully Manj is feeling better.

Oh no I won’t.

It’s now March and I’m just heading back to Sri Lanka for a few days. I have a second e tourist visa that will see me through to May when I return to the U.K. and I’ll get an X visa.

Confused?

I just wonder what form the U.K. itself will take in May.

Sheer agony

SF2 Comments

It’s been 48 hours. Can you remember ear ache as a child?. I’d forgotten how bad it was. I’m certain there’s worst but it escapes me at the mo. There was the full-on blood throbbing pain alternating with the swish swish of the chain. Horrible. I was tempted to OD on my paracetamol. I’d turn from resting on the right (bad ear) Then there was the dagger like pain on my left shoulder. I couldn’t sleep and even tried three different rooms. No not embarrassing myself before guests. We had none last night 🙃

Well this morning the ear ache has subsided. What a blood relief. But the aching shoulder has become much worse. So it became…. Jag time. He’s a master. He’s considered a physio but he’s on a totally different planet. One of Mysore’s gems.

According to my appointment card it’s nine years since my last visit. On that occasion Jag declared that my Carpal tunnel syndrome was nonsense and traced the problem to a nerve which he spotted on my shoulder. After three visits and his trademark manipulation it was sorted.

This time, I also suspected nerves. But no after one jab he could tell it was a pulled muscle. So he picked me up lick a rag doll, threw me around the room, wacked me a few times, smacked me on the bed and sat on me …… no of course he didn’t. His gentle but on this occasion painful manipulation and he’d done the trick. Wonderful. That will be 200 rupees. What a bargain!

I return to manhood🙃 ok whimp hood.