Snippets

XXXI. Into this Universe, and Why not knowing, Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing: And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.  (The Rubaiyat Of Omar Khayyam - Poem by Omar Khayyam Translated into English in 1859 by Edward FitzGerald) As my plane touched down at the airport once again a tornado was brewing up along the East Coast of USA. The joy of a safe landing and the pleasure of meeting up with my daughter's family, especially my granddaughter made me feel relaxed. Soon we were winding our way home and my daughter was regaling me with her plans for the little one's vacation. "Mom" she said" don't bother to unpack for next week we are going on a drive to Poughkeepsie"!!!"Whazzat?" I said? Was it jetlag or the English accent ? I could not make out the name but I kept quiet reluctant to publicize the fact that I did not understand! One week whizzed by and soon we were all pack

Life flows by faster than the waters of the Ganges, fortunately not so turbulent now possibly because it has reached the plains and called for a more mature outlook on life now that I am a grandmother. The memories of a happy childhood are once again flowering in me, thanks to my school friends in the whatsapp group! Delhi, the city I made my home, looks washed and decorated with bright green leaves, washed clean after the rains,  with Shivamalli flowers, that used to be  carpeted  at the entrance to our home in Kerala, smiled and nodded their heads in recognition. Two winters spent mollycoddling my grandchild, while heavy snowladen trees and cold winds blew outside, took me back to the hardships natives  faced  living in the Himalayas. Central heating was probably unheard in these remote areas. Eating food that gives warmth and sharing, spreading the inborn warmth among themselves and their cattle, made these people more warm hearted, I guess. We, the four sisters, continued ou

On the top of the world! "I am on the top of the world looking down on creation......" the words of the song kept ringing in my head as we wound our way through the steep and curvy mountain ranges of Garwahl and Kumaon  ranges of the Himalayas. At times verdant green and inviting, at other times dark and foreboding or reaching to heaven and the blue sky or  twinkling stars! Our journey started with an early morning rush to the New Delhi railway station to catch the Shatabdi  to Haridwar - the Sister Act or Madam Log's Travels had started. A very comfortable journey plied with coffee, tea and breakfast helped put us into the positive mood despite the newspapers predicting precarious landslides on our route. A once in a while whiff of perfumed toilet air as the door opened was the only reminder of the shit we were passing by. A Toyota Innova waited for us at the station and we were whisked to the foot of the Mansa Devi Temple for our cable ride to the top to g