Meet Trixie… My new friend has taken me in and around Vancouver city, to the sea and across to Vancouver Island.
Every time I visit Vancouver I’m reminded of the politeness. How people greet each other; how drivers generally behave and give way to pedestrians especially on side roads; and how it’s institutions respect and respond to their communities.
Even cyclists and their bikes are carefully catered for.
Travelling on the Skytrain. Or on the aqua bus
But…
And on the Buses en route to the ferry to Vancouver Island.
Trixie isn’t all that she seems.
Originally manufactured by ‘Regal Cycles’ over ten years ago. Known as ‘the Count’ she was a Fixie or fixed gear but after some tinkering she was transformed with a new set of handlebars, 3 speed hub gears and a coaster brake.
Trixie is fab and served me well, I’d love to adopt her, provide a Brooks saddle and take her home.
The third death anniversary of Manjula. We try to do all the right things.
Signs are posted next to M’s garden to explain that we’ve created it in her memory. (It’s even in the shape of a ‘M’.) A large image of MAnjula is positioned at our gate, Hindu’s recognise immediately what it’s about. We’re inviting her to come in. We all take it in turns to do puja, a request to the gods and wishes to MAnjula to help her on her way. Who nows? Maybe she’s already found her next body but We play safe and do the ceremonies in case she hasn’t I close the hall (lounge) door behind me as we all leave the house. This is to allow Manjula’s soul spirit to eat. We’ll gently knock on re-entering so she knows to go. Sowbhaghya, who now tries her best to hold it all together is ably assisted by Tanuja and Satish the director’s of the new company: ‘Manjula’s Mysore’ to create a great day, remembering and helping MAnjula on her way. Over the years friends have created a MAnjula memory tree.
Ina the Scottish Australian who became a great friend of ours and especially Manjula calls and arranges to visit later in the year.
Thank you MAnjula for being the all-embracing you, we all miss and cherish you while continuing to feel your presence.
I have another bright idea, I might regret it.
By the end of the day and unusually for this time of year it rains.
two recent visitors were overcome, loving our house, its vibe and the rich mix of art so I thought I’d share a bit more with you of Manjula and my creation in these videos
We use any and every opportunity to recognise and remember, what would have been Manjula’s 48th Birthday is extra special.
On monday afternoon, 23rd August (postponed from Saturday due to a curfew) we have open-house for friends to drop-in for a drink and cake or sweets, to visit the garden we’ve just planted, see Manjula’s two painted portraits and have a chat.
We’ve now got two paintings by Cinderella, more here and hereKaran a student at CAVA Art College is creating something to entertain.Tom and Amy helping outby kindly sponsoring the meals for the elderly people living in the Ashram (not the children’s home!)Tanuja, one of the MyCycle Directors, helping plan the garden with a little shopping tripIt’ll look better in a couple of years 😉planting a special tree for ManjulaSowbhaghya with her new T shirt
Just in case
the party girls get everywhere
Satish, MyCycle Director, nearly working.earlier photo (we’ve had no international guests for over a year) of one of the three benches in the park, As we reach the end of the day on her birthday it’s been raining for hours. So an earlier photo.
Today Manjula would have been 48 and it’s yet another reason to celebrate and thank her for the time we were together (we still are).
Manjula sent messages with her love and for me to know all is well on her soul’s journey to her new life. She’s most definitely not a ‘hungry ghost’.
Here’s a video message from my love. Previously we’ve also heard from her via messengers
Manjula captured my heart
We’ve done a few things that Manjula would like and maybe make her giggle. Like the remembering garden. we’ve just planted in the park opposite our house.
She’s left audio and video recordings which I’m using to help write our story. We’ll release some of the videos in 2022
So what’s a hungry ghost? One of the tales that will be featured in our story, to be published before we reach what would have been her 50th birthday.
I’d gone into the city for one of the endless visits to the city corporation (more of that later) then diverted to buy flowers in the Market. These will traditionally float in water in the brass Urli bowl beneath Madam’s photo and garland to go the photos themselves in each of our two halls (aka lounge or living room).
In the city were so many local women in sari’s going about their business, it reminded me of Manjula and how she connected me to so many aspects of life here. It brought a tear to my eye, not that that’s unusual.
I’d passed the iconic Lansdown building that has now been waiting years for a decision of whether they will renovate or demolish and rebuild. There’s no prize for guessing which the politicians in cahoots with the developers would prefer and why.
Lansdown Building
Then the day began to turn.
Not the hotel, it’s another angle of the Lansdown building.
I went to a favourite ‘hotel’ (aka cafe) the Indra Paras, the owners son, manning the cash desk and the waiters all recognised and acknowledged me, creating a good feeling as I ate my Masala Dosa and Sev Dahi Potato Puri (crispy hollow puri balls, filled with a mix of crunchy, yoghurt, potato and a tinge of sweet) another favourite.
Then I squeezed past the guys selling clothing and material on the pavement and round the corner to the fruit salad, ice cream and traditional juices shop for my regular sarsaparilla and soda. Again the guys at the shop all asked how I’d been and wondered if I’d just come back. No I’ve been at home here in Mysore for two years, gifting me another warm vibe.
Then the usual, trying to find an auto with a working meter, after rejecting one and hanging about aimlessly by the roadside a guy hailed my as his friend stepped out from sharing the front bench seat.
The driver knew me, and Vasanth, and had taken many of our guests back home to the BnB. He’s friend couldn’t quite place me.
“It’s the cycle man”
I’m nothing to do with this which, just happened to be there, and represents the usual Indian randomness
So I pulled down my mask and he remembered me from nine years before when Vinay and I had started the cycle tours and he knew of our base at the Palace Plaza Hotel.
So a bittersweet mix, of missing Manjula and realising how she critically helped me adjust to my adopted city through re-connecting with people and sharing memories.
Me and MYCycle 