Time Out

As children growing up in India, the highlight of our winter holidays was a family road trip to three greatly revered Hindu temples, nestled high in the Himalayan ranges, way up in the North. For us siblings, this trip was less about paying obeisance at each shrine and more about time-out from the routine: to engage in fraternal pastimes, eat wonderful food and bask in the constant attention of our beloved parents. Looking back upon my childhood years, spent in a less expressive time – I don’t think our parents actually said ‘I love you’ to each other or to us – I know this annual pilgrimage was a declaration of our bond, even more than it was a strengthening of any religious belief. I know for certain that decades later, in conversation with my brothers, we constantly refer back to memories from those journeys and for each one of us those recollections are deeply etched…

This past week, I joined my younger brother and his family for a December vacation in an idyllic wooden home near picture-perfect Vail. Besides the breathtaking beauty of a white Christmas in a lovely holiday destination, we enjoyed lazy fireside evenings, too much delicious food and lots of laughter. I felt a sense of déjà vu listening to the children’s easy banter and, more than once, I saw that my brother had become my father – as he organized our transport or worried about someone being cold or fussed over his brood. I know that we came together and made new memories that we’ll look back upon, in the years to come…

http://www.5oclockreflections.com/time-out/

Something about Babies

No matter how bleak life’s realities, there is something about new babies that rekindles hope, engenders love and turns even the most hardened cynic into a dreamer. We welcomed a newborn to our family a few days ago and she has transformed us all. Her parents have a new axis to their universe and her name means poetess, though she could well be likened to a poem they created.

There is nothing to compare with the innocence of the newborn and the sweetness on her face, as she begins to forget life in the womb and starts a new life in our world. Her greatest safe-guard is her helplessness, a powerful device that cannot be ignored. Her dependency is enough to ensure food and warmth and succor, when she needs it.

Babies, in their immaculate state, bring out the best in all of us. Perhaps, unknowingly, they allow as the opportunity to start over. As Henry Thoreau wisely put it ‘Every child begins the world again’.

http://www.5oclockreflections.com/something-about-babies/

Winter Chill

We have long known that signals received by our senses are interpreted by our brains to call up recollections from another time. It is common knowledge that sights, sounds, tastes and smells (especially smells!) can all trigger emotional memories from long ago. For some reason, the sense of touch seems to be least associated with evoking the past…

For me, it is always the feel of the first winter chill on my skin that conjures up my most magical connotations. During our school years, in a Himalayan boarding school, the cold of each approaching winter signaled the advent of our long winter holiday and an escape from school; it spelled a release from the classroom, the discipline and the wake-up bell that always rang too soon. Eventually, the same hilly region became my home and then the cold weather meant roaring bonfires, steaming soups and beds prepped with old-fashioned hot water bottles! To this day, after so many years spent in North India’s plains and Mumbai’s unchanging climes, I am inexorably drawn to the mountains – for their scenic beauty, for their eternal majesty and for their cold breezes that sing atop the cedars and touch my skin to unlock a treasure trove of associations.

Last week, as I walked out into gently falling snow, North America’s wintry weather reminded me that this cold also heralds the season of festivity and celebration for a big part of the world. This winter chill allows us the opportunity to seek warmth with family and friends and those we love.

http://www.5oclockreflections.com/winter-chill/

Travel Writings in Paperbacks

The wanderer in me is drawn to travel writing and we have so many wonderful writers in our times – Paul Theroux, Bill Bryson, Bruce Chatwin, William Dalrymple and more. All are legends, well-deserving of the recognition they receive. (I knew Bruce personally because he stayed with us in our Himalayan home a few years before his untimely end; and recognized him as eccentric, reclusive, and tortured.)

Each of these writers has transported me, in their works and oftentimes literally. I think Bryson is special – his style is like no other, his humor unique and his spirits always high! Several years ago, I read A Walk in the Woods – the movie doesn’t begin to do it justice – and knew I had to experience the Appalachian trail, even if I did not walk its length. A few short years later, I stood breathless beneath a woody sign that read ‘Appalachian Trail’ and had my friend capture the moment. (We had set up base in Gatlinburg, as we walked the Smokies for four days. So it has felt personal to see the tragic images of recent Tenessee wildfires, the loss of life and property and the evacuation of downtown Gatlinburg.)

As I pack my bag for yet another jaunt, I include The Lost Continent, described as Bryson’s ‘travels in small-town America’ and known for his unforgettable line, ‘I come from Des Moines. Somebody had to!’ I first read this book when moving from India to America’s mid-West, a decade ago (laughed out loud while landing in Des Moines just a few months later!). My son gifted me this book at that time. Today I opened its gently yellowing pages to see this neat inscription in a precise handwriting:

06/01/06

Dear Mom,
Just the book for you.
Think of it as an
extended tour of your
new neighbourhood.
Bon voyage!

Love,
Kartik

I can’t wait to continue the voyage and discover more of America…

http://www.5oclockreflections.com/travel-writings-in-paperbacks/