“A pair of silver anklets poured out. He lifted them against the cheek of the evening sky and he shook them to unspool their rhythmic zhan-zhan-zhan. ‘Take them with you,’ was all she said. Years later he realised what she had really given him. The sound of her feet. The preface to her movements.
As I’m now officially a writer. Ha ha. Well I have pen and a blank sheet of paper.
I spend time reading with two perspectives: firstly as the reader, I always was, appreciating the journey I’m being taken on and secondly realising more about how the writer has created and revealed their story.
I quote another book to help reveal why I like the one above.
“This feeling resonated in me. It was the resonance that had lingered on, exactly as it does when the last page is turned of a book which reaches the heart.”
I want Manjula and my story to reach the heart as it did for me.
Manjula and I had our first wedding, the official one in the government office where they exchange contracts on immovable objects. We are undoubtedly immovable objects.
I was age 60 before I got married so there was a big build up and it took some time to move in that direction.
Manjula signed so many documents after we met: applications for passport, visas, accounts, tax returns, becoming a Director of the company, but this was the most important.
I’ve got the photo albums out, here at home.
three days later we celebrated and married again in a field
We’re on a road trip.
With no one left behind
To visit vetenarian hospital in Bangalore for a Lucie blood test
The results are good so no need for a scan and after handing over parcels for Usha
we’re off back home.
Stopping on the way for lunch at fishland one of our favourite restaurants.
Manjula and I would have a drive through the countryside in the Ambassador drop in here for lunch after her regular visits to the clinic.
The staff asked where Madam was, I continue to share the old news which helps recognise and celebrate.
We’re reaching out to a whole new generation
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.
Anita Nair a renowned author here in India has an annual programme ‘Anita’s Attic’ to help up and coming writers.
It’s my new thing, writing. Ha ha says the Yorkshireman, who can’t even speak English.
Our group of ten have just finished the latest programme with each of us reading a short creative piece that we’ve written.
mine. You can’t escape so easily. 🤭
Do provide critical feedback.
My not work station
made me lighter. No not in weight, let’s not go there.
Usha, in the middle here, kindly invited me for a Thai Massage as guinea pig as she’s currently training here in Mysore.
I’m over-dressed as I’m about to bike it back home.
Ragu and his team can be found
An open mic event at
Dreamers Cafe in Mysore great young audience entertained with poetry, singing, guitar, flute, jokes and storytelling.
His notes are on his hand. Who knows what’s on the smart Phone.
My very first appearance at an open mic.
The cafe has double decker seating.
Lucie and I are missing the people. The busy household, constant comings and going’s, the jokes, the kindness and our queen.
This helps replace some of the missing energy. Great evening, wonderful people, well organised.
Driving on a double road this morning a ten month old bullock stepped into the path of my Ambassador
A group quickly developed, as is usual in India.
Satish came to handle the situation. Compensating the owner with 4000 Rs (£40) in theory for the poor bullock’s leg to be fixed up and he to be taken to the old cow’s home.
But I wonder if the owner will just pocket the money and sell the poor bullock to become meat even thought just recently that became illegal.
I’m really sad and sorry.