Today is Tamil New Year! No holiday from work though. But this morning, to ensure me luck for the coming year (odd not to start on Jan 1st) the first thing I was meant to see when I woke up was the fruits, etc laid before God. That's where Nani took me, and let's hope the luck holds up! Especially because right now I don't have enough money for an auto home...
We hopefully get our clothes back from the tailor today!
Rohini brought in a bowl of gooseberries to work for everyone to share! I've never had a gooseberry before, except as amla pickle. (Amla = gooseberry). A gooseberry is a tiny berry whose shape reminds me a little of a pumpkin. It is tougher than a blueberry, and mouth-wateringly sour. We ate them with salt. When I researched them, the descriptions were confusing. The fruit was described as having a sour taste and a sweet taste, and a bitter taste too, but it was just that one taste masked the others if you didn't pay close attention. Indeed, other people in the office remarked that it 'turned sweet at the end' but I didn't notice that at all. Perhaps my taste buds are defunct.
Today at the end of work I crossed the street to go check out Crossword, a brand name bookstore. I haven't been reading much here, which is odd because I thought that would be all I would do! But I come home from work tired of looking at words, and tired in general. In the autos, I'm addicted to looking outside! Because the entire country is a vibrant ever-changing canvas, I'm afraid if I look away I'll miss something. Even while looking there's so much I miss because it's 360 degrees of life.
But things are becoming more routine now, and I'm ready to check out some libros again . Crossword has been glimmering invitingly across the street from the office, and I can never resist a bookstore for long. I asked a friend from work for recommendations, and she responded in that lovely way, providing so much information that a simple answer turned into a discussion. I think all questions should be answered like that. In an ideal world.
Crossword is literally the most disappointing bookstore I've ever been in. It is all teen 'lit', summer beach reads and mechanical/scientific manuals, textbooks and guides. There is no good history, literature, poetry or drama, but a thorough and impressive technology section subdivided by sector. The best move when it comes to books in India is clearly to go secondhand, or to small narrow bookstores with teetering piles. No Borders or B&N equivalent here.
My friend from work had recommended Three Cups of Tea and mistakenly, The Tipping Point (she meant another book, it turns out). Anyways, Crossword had neither one (to give you an idea of just how well-stocked it is with the kind of books one might actually read).
I bought instead another copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, one hidden away purple copy whose cover looks like Woodstock and whose price suggested they never thought they'd sell it. At home I have my dad's old copy, with a self-made construction paper jacket, the name markered on the binding as "Zen & MM". I carry this book with me absolutely everywhere, but it's been a long time since I've read it and I didn't bring it to India. I get the sense that this is the right time to read this book, or the right place or state of self. It is resonating in a way it didn't before. But that's also the beauty of rereading great books. I bought this one for my friend in the office (the one who recommended the books) who is leaving tomorrow.
She is going on a sort of Vipassana meditation retreat in southern India. For ten days she will wake up at 4:00 and end her day at 9:30. She will remain in complete silence, not a word for the entirety of her stay. And she will emerge having discovered something, found something or perhaps even lost something. She explained that in such deep silence, it is important to notice what things float into one's conscience, and just notice their presence. When legs grow stiff and back begins to ache from hours of sitting, the goal is to remain still, recognize the physical pain and know it will pass. She says she hopes for self-discipline, and I feel that's a goal I would strive for too, if I went on one. One of the wonderful parts about this retreat (for information, check out www.dhamma.org) is that it is entirely free- registration, lodging, food all paid by believers in the practice who donate. I always disliked the principle of paying for a meditation course and I am inclined to believe more in the efficacy of Vipassana techniques given that they don't charge its instruction.
In a total stroke of fortune and for the first time ever, I got home in under 100 Rs and didn't have to go hunting for change! Joanna wasn't back yet, so Nani and I went to Gandhi Bazaar to pick up our clothes from the tailor. As usual the bazaar was a bustle of activity. We bought Dadi a silk sari to gift when we visit her in Konkan, and went to find some agarbathi (incense). This we bought from a corner shop specializing in what appeared to be all manner of religious 'props'? Towering piles of kumkum and haldi in baskets, little diya lamps, lots of incense. I spotted packets of Holi powder, for the Indian festival where people throw coloured powders at each other in the streets, like a giant paintball festival without the paintball guns, but Holi is over and it didn't seem like the smartest purchase.
Here's a brief tidbit about Holi. The festival has a few reputed significances, but my favourites are those which recognize it as a festival of love. There is a story told in Hindu mythology about the Goddess Parvati and Lord Shiva. Shiva was engaged in a deep and all-consuming meditation, effectively dead to the outside world, oblivious to the fact that Parvati was trying to win his affections. Parvati appealed to Kamadeva, a god of love, who obliged by shooting an arrow at Shiva to disturb his musings. Startled, Shiva opened his third eye and in its powerful gaze, Kamadeva turned to ashes.
Kama's wife, Rati (passion) was stricken with grief and to appease her, Shiva restored some form of Kamadeva. Unable to return him to his physical form, Shiva allowed Kama to continue existing as a mental image. More than physical lust, this transcended love to an emotional and spiritual state, as it should exist. Holi, particularly the festival bonfire, commemorates this event. I absolutely love that story.
After buying incense, Nani and I ventured into a tiny recessed book shop, where I was more pleased with the selection than I was at Crossword but still not totally satisfied. I did buy a copy of "The World is Flat" for a reasonable price. Now I have to crack down and start reading all of this wonderful stuff!
The tailor was ready with all of Joanna's clothing but only some of mine so we'll go back for the rest. At night, Jo and I skyped Anna and were thrilled to hear about all of her Buenos Aires adventures! It is funny of the strange similarities that exist between places so far removed.
We hopefully get our clothes back from the tailor today!
Rohini brought in a bowl of gooseberries to work for everyone to share! I've never had a gooseberry before, except as amla pickle. (Amla = gooseberry). A gooseberry is a tiny berry whose shape reminds me a little of a pumpkin. It is tougher than a blueberry, and mouth-wateringly sour. We ate them with salt. When I researched them, the descriptions were confusing. The fruit was described as having a sour taste and a sweet taste, and a bitter taste too, but it was just that one taste masked the others if you didn't pay close attention. Indeed, other people in the office remarked that it 'turned sweet at the end' but I didn't notice that at all. Perhaps my taste buds are defunct.
Today at the end of work I crossed the street to go check out Crossword, a brand name bookstore. I haven't been reading much here, which is odd because I thought that would be all I would do! But I come home from work tired of looking at words, and tired in general. In the autos, I'm addicted to looking outside! Because the entire country is a vibrant ever-changing canvas, I'm afraid if I look away I'll miss something. Even while looking there's so much I miss because it's 360 degrees of life.
But things are becoming more routine now, and I'm ready to check out some libros again . Crossword has been glimmering invitingly across the street from the office, and I can never resist a bookstore for long. I asked a friend from work for recommendations, and she responded in that lovely way, providing so much information that a simple answer turned into a discussion. I think all questions should be answered like that. In an ideal world.
Crossword is literally the most disappointing bookstore I've ever been in. It is all teen 'lit', summer beach reads and mechanical/scientific manuals, textbooks and guides. There is no good history, literature, poetry or drama, but a thorough and impressive technology section subdivided by sector. The best move when it comes to books in India is clearly to go secondhand, or to small narrow bookstores with teetering piles. No Borders or B&N equivalent here.
My friend from work had recommended Three Cups of Tea and mistakenly, The Tipping Point (she meant another book, it turns out). Anyways, Crossword had neither one (to give you an idea of just how well-stocked it is with the kind of books one might actually read).
I bought instead another copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, one hidden away purple copy whose cover looks like Woodstock and whose price suggested they never thought they'd sell it. At home I have my dad's old copy, with a self-made construction paper jacket, the name markered on the binding as "Zen & MM". I carry this book with me absolutely everywhere, but it's been a long time since I've read it and I didn't bring it to India. I get the sense that this is the right time to read this book, or the right place or state of self. It is resonating in a way it didn't before. But that's also the beauty of rereading great books. I bought this one for my friend in the office (the one who recommended the books) who is leaving tomorrow.
She is going on a sort of Vipassana meditation retreat in southern India. For ten days she will wake up at 4:00 and end her day at 9:30. She will remain in complete silence, not a word for the entirety of her stay. And she will emerge having discovered something, found something or perhaps even lost something. She explained that in such deep silence, it is important to notice what things float into one's conscience, and just notice their presence. When legs grow stiff and back begins to ache from hours of sitting, the goal is to remain still, recognize the physical pain and know it will pass. She says she hopes for self-discipline, and I feel that's a goal I would strive for too, if I went on one. One of the wonderful parts about this retreat (for information, check out www.dhamma.org) is that it is entirely free- registration, lodging, food all paid by believers in the practice who donate. I always disliked the principle of paying for a meditation course and I am inclined to believe more in the efficacy of Vipassana techniques given that they don't charge its instruction.
In a total stroke of fortune and for the first time ever, I got home in under 100 Rs and didn't have to go hunting for change! Joanna wasn't back yet, so Nani and I went to Gandhi Bazaar to pick up our clothes from the tailor. As usual the bazaar was a bustle of activity. We bought Dadi a silk sari to gift when we visit her in Konkan, and went to find some agarbathi (incense). This we bought from a corner shop specializing in what appeared to be all manner of religious 'props'? Towering piles of kumkum and haldi in baskets, little diya lamps, lots of incense. I spotted packets of Holi powder, for the Indian festival where people throw coloured powders at each other in the streets, like a giant paintball festival without the paintball guns, but Holi is over and it didn't seem like the smartest purchase.
http://triangulations.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/holi_girls_with_color.jpg
Here's a brief tidbit about Holi. The festival has a few reputed significances, but my favourites are those which recognize it as a festival of love. There is a story told in Hindu mythology about the Goddess Parvati and Lord Shiva. Shiva was engaged in a deep and all-consuming meditation, effectively dead to the outside world, oblivious to the fact that Parvati was trying to win his affections. Parvati appealed to Kamadeva, a god of love, who obliged by shooting an arrow at Shiva to disturb his musings. Startled, Shiva opened his third eye and in its powerful gaze, Kamadeva turned to ashes.
Kama's wife, Rati (passion) was stricken with grief and to appease her, Shiva restored some form of Kamadeva. Unable to return him to his physical form, Shiva allowed Kama to continue existing as a mental image. More than physical lust, this transcended love to an emotional and spiritual state, as it should exist. Holi, particularly the festival bonfire, commemorates this event. I absolutely love that story.
After buying incense, Nani and I ventured into a tiny recessed book shop, where I was more pleased with the selection than I was at Crossword but still not totally satisfied. I did buy a copy of "The World is Flat" for a reasonable price. Now I have to crack down and start reading all of this wonderful stuff!
The tailor was ready with all of Joanna's clothing but only some of mine so we'll go back for the rest. At night, Jo and I skyped Anna and were thrilled to hear about all of her Buenos Aires adventures! It is funny of the strange similarities that exist between places so far removed.
Happy New Year - If we incorporate enough calendars, every day could be the beginning of a New Year!...
ReplyDeleteThe story of Shiva and Holi is lovely...