Live in Peace

                                                 

The cherubic actor who is in our minds constantly for the worst reason possible was a victim of depression.

I have never even googled the word ‘depression’, but know the symptoms by reading people’s bitter experiences. Like other bad things, I believed that depression happens to others, not to me and mine, and people I know. I live on a beautiful campus which is a happy place. Safety, cleanliness and comparatively simpler life does add to the quality of the life we live. In such a place depression seems a foreign thing.

A few years back I too had gone through this feeling of constantly being sad for some petty reason. During that time I talked to the two more people of my age who confessed that they too are consulting doctors for similar reasons. We also talked that living in the lap of luxury with most amiable surroundings and families how could we fall into this trap? I had had a surgery so thought it may be ‘post surgery mood swings’. I never associated my condition with depression, though it was constantly at the back of my mind. The simple reason was, ‘it cannot happen to me,’ such things happen to others whom we don’t know personally.I consulted a doctor in our Health Centre who was kind enough to listen to me. He prescribed some tablets and gave me a few instructions.

The box of tablets was for de-stressing. The word ‘stress’ written in bold letters did hurt my ego. I introspected that why would I have stress! It is not in my DNA. Life is treating me well. My kids are doing exceptionally well, only if I do not compare them with Mark, Gates and Sunder Pichai.

I worked on doctor’s instructions. Did some physical work work daily, played badminton and continued with CBC , Children’s Book Club. Still I had those bouts of sadness. While returning from the CBC, one day I met Anita, my ex colleague, who almost forced me to re-join my job in Campus School. Within a week I was back to the work I am passionate about. I got to teach a class of 5-6 yr olds. I was used to teaching a little older ones. It was tough, but engrossed in my work with those little angels I forgot that unhappy period of my life.

Coming back to Sushant S Rajput, most people are angry with him that didn’t he think about his father and sisters? Life will never be the same for them. I always condemned people who committed suicide but not in his case. The pain must have become unbearable. You can fight/ignore/compromise with one or two persons, but what if all gang up and pounce at you?

I wish he would have talked to someone and understood that life was more important than his career. He could have become an example, a role model for many in stress and depression believing in the cliche that This Too Shall Pass.

Sunny South 1 (Mysore)

View from the window at Ginger Hotel, Mysore

What takes people out of their cozy homes to places that they may or may not like? In my case it is   just to break the monotony, no matter how beautiful it is. Then there are my mentors on social media  who keep inspiring or pestering me through their lovely travel blogs to get out of my shell and create the moments that I would relish years later on my easy chair.  

I had to go to Bangalore to visit my son and explore  the temples and wildlife and food and everything of the beautiful state of Karnataka. I had 10 days in hand and more than 10 destinations in my mind. I had no Idea what I would do. Just a week before it is difficult to book hotel rooms, taxis and Air-tickets. I fell on a friend's feet to guide me. It must be the most tiresome task to make an itinerary for someone else. Especially if the person is too busy with his work, family and school going kids. I made many guilt laden calls and sent many messages to communicate my choices and queries related to the trip. I have no words to thank him for this support. Finally Natraj sent me my Itinerary. 

It took me a whole day to reach Bangalore from Kanpur. My son welcomed me in his one BHK in his long flowing hair. He looked more like his toddler self to me when I used to tie his hair in a small ponytail and all my anger vanished.



Unlike a traditional mom, who would have cleaned the house and cooked for her son, I followed my itinerary and headed for Mysore the very next morning.  With a car booked for the whole trip and a local, reliable driver, I did not consider myself a solo traveller. For travelling solo. I hv yet to gain confidence. I started early and thoroughly enjoyed the drive. It was like watching a South Indian movie with dense patches of coconut grooves, hamlets, small temples, and billboards displaying huge pictures of film actors.                                          

After a nap I woke up in front of the Banarasi Dhaba, although I was expecting some  eatery named Shravana or Latha.

 I complimented the owner for the feast, while paying the bill. Rs 120 for two stomachs full, including coffee.

Ginger Hotel, Mysore was going to be my home for the next three days. I found hotel rooms fascinating and they do make a part of my happy memories and  my extended 'me time'. All things needed are packed in a suitcase. Room service, the beds with the soft matresses to sink in and sprouts in breakfast which I have not soaked is a luxury I love to devour.

The whole day at hand, I followed what the brochure at the hotel suggested. The Mysore zoo was the first destination. I had imagined myself visiting a palace or a museum or a temple, but not a zoo. The zoo was grand and spread over 157-acres of land. It must be  a Herculean's task  to manage  such a place. Birds and more birds did steal my heart.                                  

The giraffe I saw for the first time.

Butterflies

Monkeys 

The Tiger was royal indeed !

Baby Care Rooms for little visitors

Wax Musium

vvvv

                   Melody Wax Museum 

                                                                                         

                                                                           With His Highness Srikantadutta Narasimharaja Wadiyar


                             

 Dinner at Hotel Siddhart was good. I am not a foody, but I craved for the really tasty food which I would not get in my city. After all I came so far to experience it. Then I realised that the food I was craving for can be only had in the kitchen of a home chef.   

 

                                                             

In the premises of the hotel there was a pan seller. I walked to get a meetha pan. He was from UP.It was nice to chat with someone in Hindi after a gap of many hours. A fan of the CM of UP, he informed me that finally he has electricity in his village, near Gorakhpur.

                               

                                   Complimentary Breakfast at Ginger

                                                                 off to Belur

Lockdown Tales

                                            

My mother-in-law had been the Gram Pradhan of her village for three consecutive terms, elected unanimously. After that she was the Chairperson of the ‘Samaj Kalyan Vibhag’, Uttarkashi district. By the time I joined the family she had taken the voluntary retirement. Her long years of social work and family responsibilities went on simultaneously.

Women in Uttranchal villages work very hard. Bringing fodder/grass from the Jungle is a work which every woman does.

One day I was sitting at the verandah of our picturesque house in Uttarkashi. I could hear the sound of the raging river Ganga or Gangaji, as locals call Her. A visitor came with a bagful of vegetables and fruits. Vegetables from her garden and fruits , the first crop of the season from her trees. Later I knew that MiL had arranged for her widow-pension a long time back.

MiL told me that once in the jungle, while cutting grass with a sickle, daranti, she pricked her finger with a thorn. It kept paining for a couple of days. The wound was not getting soft so that she could pull the thorn out. Someone suggested her a herb for quick relief. So she dug up the root of a weed called Chaulaai Kandali. (It was not the common Kandali, a plant commonly found there and stings like a wasp if touched.) She made a paste with the root and applied on the wound. Within 5 to 10 minutes the wound got soft with enough pus. She could pull the half-inch long thorn from her finger to her great relief.

In the times of Corona/ Covid 19, I wonder if there is a remedy for this pandemic, hidden under the earth as a root or blooming somewhere in the wilderness as a flower.