It’s quite a different time

A week after Manjula’s birthday celebration (which I recognise is actually a bit weird) I’m in one of the strangest periods I’ve ever had in ten years living in Mysore. …. and I’ve had some seriously off times. Maybe more than in the previous fifty years (I’m now 64) before moving to India.

I’ve shared some of my most challenging times as they related to losing Manjula. This one is about engaging with the unforgiving unfathomable system.

I’ll have to get out of this particular dark tunnel where there is no light before I’m able to share much more.

….. other things, today.

I’m just back from yoga class where I’d hoped for a bit more distraction.

Next, Lucie and I go out for a walk. I completely failed her yesterday with just one short joint walk late in the day as I was dealing with a whirlpool of mayhem. Thankfully Sowbaghya was here to help and both Satish and Vasanth took her rides in their autos.

Lucie’s drinking point just inside our gate

Nicely arranged with flowers and plants and on top of grinding stone from the village.

My new daily ritual is to reach into Manjula’s Claris (gift from a guest, maybe Christine) bag of coins for ten rupees to pay for this morning chai.

Thoughtful as ever Manjula provides my morning tea.

World War One German helmets or hanging pots, yet to be installed.
We’re out and about, and visiting Satish on Srirangapatnam.

Mysore meandering again

Mysore’s magic continues to show itself in special ways.

shopping with Tanuja for the new garden

lunch in Indra Paras Hotel where the owners and staff were happy to see me and surprised I’d been in Mysore all this time.

The hotel owner thought I’d put on weight, so I blamed the pandemic and not the cream cakes from Sapa. Might have to hit that on the head though.

MAnjula’ bench (no 4) at my favourite museum in the old House used by the British after the fourth war of Mysore in 1799. It’s-now complete with sleeping Buddha.

Our local shopkeeper wondered why I was so red, it’s hanging out in the park vaguely directing the garden creation, with very little actual work.

one wasn’t enough

At Christmas I gave myself a wonderful gift

It was such a characterful portrait of beautiful Manjula. The enigmatic artist knows MAnjula, connected and found her spirit.

I just had to have another.

I may seem greedy but I just can’t get enough of MAnjula (you may have worked that out) and especially how Priyanka brings out many facets of my beautiful wife.

There’s even more significant detail to explore in this one.

P was guided by a photograph from shortly after we were engaged in 2015

Now where can I hang her?

After life?

I’m now coming to the end of draft three of our story. There’s still a loooong way to go but thought I’d share something.

As a Hindu Manjula believed in reincarnation so it’s one area I’ve researched and found incredibly interesting.

For more details from me you’ll need to wait for the book or in the meantime check some of the resources I’ve listed here. The books are available in Manjula’s library.

There’s a great series on NETFLIX

Or check out this podcast

One of the many effects of finding and temporarily losing Manjula is to push me to reflect, and learn with an open heart. Thanks Manj.

Stories

Mysore Storytellers Network (MSN)

Making space to share creativity.

find MSN on Facebook or here or instagram

Their latest event on 11th July focussed on the monsoon . The event was wonderfully entertaining with participants from throughout India and a rich mix of contributions from storytellers, musicians, lyricists, singers, poets and polemicists.

For what it’s worth here’s my contribution.

I have much experience of rain in the ‘land of grey” as I’m from one of the rainiest parts of England, and even though I moved to live in Mysore I still have little experience of the extremes of the monsoon phenomenon. Life is so easy in so many ways in Mysore

This is unapologetically raising broad challenging questions

I can feel it at the end of our noses

It’s no poem

A serious story the message is not hidden.

It’s a wake up late at night.

I’ve moved to Mysore in India, its my first time out on my Enfield 

I’m new to this.

I wonder why are all the two wheelers stopping under the bridges, or the flyovers or the riders finding shelter at the shops?

Because I’m new to this 

but realise why, as the rain falls

It is the monsoon, I’ll know better next time.

Did you feel a spot of rain?

We got our brollies out and opened them just in time

We knew it was the monsoon.

We had torrential rain for weeks

…..

The rains have broken the roads

no one expected the monsoon

the construction site sand has run away after a heavy shower

and escaped down the road blocking the drains

no one expected the monsoon

water seeps into the tarmac cracks and pushes them open

no one expected the monsoon

…..

fires devastated the forests in Australia and California

we didn’t expect that

the heatwave killed people in USA and Canada

we didn’t expect that either

..

Had anyone expected that

or does no one care

We stumble through life being uncertain about what will happen and 

how to deal with the challenges we face.

its part of life and how we learn

we hear whispers,

our gut sends messages

its in the papers, 

the UN discusses

but do we listen and if we do

can we act?

We knew all about the monsoon, the fires, the heatwave, the pandemic, wave one two and three, so why didn’t we act?

Were we Breathing Lethargy Air? 

or

Following the submissive path? Who knows?

Check them out nd join in, as there’s all sorts of different events like celebrating art.

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

It’s not Irish…

We’re famous for our coffee here in South India.

As someone who is neither a coffee or whisky drinker I was intrigued to discover Classic’s Whisky barrel-aged Coffee from Harley’s Coffee Estate.

What an interesting idea. I needn’t have worried. It’s an intriguing taste and aroma which I immediately liked.

Once we’ve reopened Mysore Bed and Breakfast after the pandemic we’ll introduce this great innovation to our guests from around the world.

We know they’ll love it combined with our range of teas and coffees to enhance our reputation for great breakfasts.

More messages.

As we went for this afternoons walk a giant butterfly buzzed me the moment I left the main door.

I discretely followed it to try and take a photo but I could only get this silhouette before it flew away.

An hour later Lucie and returned home to it resting on the door knob. only to surprise me again and land on one of our windows.

From outside.

It has the scary images of two reflective eyes on its wings, it’s wing span is seven inches or more and now it’s gone.

It arrived a day after I had, once again, in exasperation called out to Manjula complaining that I couldn’t feel her presence or hear a message.

From inside

I’m happier now.

Tanuja tells me it’s a moth. So now we know messages come via Dragonflies, Butterflies and Moths.

We’ll keep you posted as more messengers are added to the list. 🙂🙃🤭😉🌞