That might relate to a day in the park.
Wood, frame, saw, lecturer, helpful students. What could it be?
Another is, it would have been Manjula’s 48th birthday on the 21st August
Who and what?
Tag: ManjulasMysore
getting back into the vibe
today was a day of contrasts
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.
Then the day began to turn.
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”
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.
Next: More drinks to try are here
Snakes and termites
On our MYcycle tour of srirangapatnam guests are intrigued by the termite hills converted into desirable ac accommodation.
There’s always signs of Pooja around the main hill we pass near the site of the fourth war of mysore.
This column from the ‘Star of Mysore’ explains more
Manjula’s Kind
MAnjula embraced everything and everyone.
She experienced unkindness throughout her life, yet always and especially in the last nine years was the most kind.
MAnjula continues to give
Our fine house was a place of support and conversation for women and not just our guests. Manjula’s networks. We’ve continued to support our drivers and they’ve joined the Manjula Mask Movement.
I still am
relying on and remembering Manjula’s kindness
Manjula’s kind
more on kindness
I hope I’m getting there.
KINDNESS
by Naomi Shihab Nye
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.
This is another direct lift, aka homage to the great gathering work of Maria Popova and her brain pickings, clearly hers are not slim pickings!
‘Beloved’ A portrait of Manjula, step-by-step
We have had great feedback about Aadirika’s painting of our beautiful Manjula with requests to see the step-by-step process in one post. Here it is….
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
It’s a sign, it’s a sign. A message of love.
‘Beloved’
A portrait of Manjula by Aadirika Kawa
Manjula always giving.
Manjula gives masks
mask mask mask mask no shortage of them at Mysore Bed and Breakfast
Children’s books are fab
Birthdays
Events that bring people together help create our Mysore BnB community.
Manjula, special in many ways also had two different birthdates but unlike the Queen, celebrated neither of them. Once Mr English lets-get-organised differently was involved, she decided to adopt the 21st August birthdate and drop the one she shared with Jesus. After that she expected a celebration every year that was full on fun.
We might have breakfast, a visit out for the day and a meal at home or in a restaurant. It was a celebration of Manjula’s choosing: our life, and good fortune, the home we’d made, together with local friends and often with special guests like Ina from Australia.
Her 45th, in 2018, was extra special after that worrying time in Intensive Care. Ina and Willian, (he’s from Brazil) were with us for a ’rounding’ as Madam would say: a visit to Somnathpur, lunch on Srirangapatnam and a gathering of our immediate clan for dinner at the Roopa. My ‘sweetness’ was on form making the best of her every single moment.
We will always celebrate Manjula and her birthday whether she’s here or there. As we approach her 47th birthday we’ve placed the benches in the park and paid for meals at the Old people’s home. I hope for more to follow, maybe I’ll hear from herself and could the phantom smiley painter return?
…….watch this space….
Me and MYCycle 