General Musings and how the story of The Encounter began

So it was just another day and I was thinking I should get back to writing again. Wham !! Like everyday I open the Times of India website for my daily dose of newspaper read and I came across a link saying "Get Published" or something similar. It intrigued me and I clicked on it. There was an announcement for some kind of short story writing competition where a celebrity author of Indian origin will set the rules and write the preface or the starting paragraph of the story and we have to complete it within the next 1500-2500 words. Interesting really, but not so much when the rule is that it has to be set in 17th century Paithan (now in modern day Maharashtra) and the protagonist is a girl called Illa who is kind of a rebel for her times. Firstly, I do not know too much of history and secondly, that was the first day I came across the name Paithan. For the longest time I hit a blank wall. I would write two words or a sentence, just to keep my fingers in the keyboard with the thought that if I do keep writing, I will be able to go on. But luck wasn't really on my side. 30th July 2015 is the last day of submission and I am not yet ready with the story when I am sitting on the 28th. I closed my eyes for sometime and thought a bit about my maternal Grandmother who was a great storyteller herself. Inspiration struck a bit and some ideas started revolving in my mind. The basic storyline is Illa's as mentioned by Amish, but the conversations and the stories that I spin here is a spin-off from various tales that my granny told me as a kid. And oh, she did belong to an upper caste Brahmin family herself but married my Grandfather who was not a Brahmin. I am talking about defying traditions longgg back. So read the story and let me know how it is. The first paragraph is by Amish (highlighted) and mine continues.

The Encounter

(1)

Close to the city of Paithan, in a small village called Sauviragram, which lay along the banks of the great river Godavari, lived a woman named Ilaa. Being cotton farmers, her family was well to do, but not among the richest in their area. It was the harvest season, and cotton had to be picked from the plants. The wholesalers and traders from Paithan would be arriving in just a few weeks, carrying gold and goods for barter. They would exchange what they carried for the cotton that the farmers grew. The bales of cotton had to be ready in time! Work was at its peak!

But Ilaa was not to be found in the fields. She wasn't working. Instead, she was sitting by the banks of the great river Godavari.

'I am sick of this!' she grunted loudly.

She looked on towards the village and felt sick and revolted. There was a sense of merriment, after-all the great Shivaji will be going forward with his journey through here. She had heard so many songs by travelling bards describing his great escapes from the Mughal prison. She was impressed yet frustrated. Here, people were talking about his escape from the Mughals disguised in a basket of sweets but no one seemed to remember any more about the role a woman plays in cultivating a man’s mind and his thoughts. Having grown up in a household where treatment to women vacillated between respect and sheer bewilderment she was always caught between two minds.

Her maternal grandmother belonged to a Brahmin family, and her great-grandfather had an ashram dedicated to education. As such her grandmother grew up with a healthy dose of stories from the Vedas,The Mahabrahata and The Ramayana. Grandmother was a woman of substance, having fallen in love and then eloped with her grandfather to start her family. For the longest time, the family was ostracized from the village and the community. After all she had brought shame to her own father and her caste by marrying into a lower caste, the brunt of which was faced by both herself and her husband. But Illa was glad she had her grandmother’s wit and her stubborn streak. She is a rebel but like grandmother she will stand up for everything she believes in.  How dare her father arrange her marriage to a boy she had never met. Why is it all right for a girl to never talk to a stranger, and always remain in pardah but perfectly all right to marry one?

The hot summer sun was glaring in full force and beads of sweat were forming in her back. As the sun grew stronger it formed a pool of sweat and trickled down to her waist. The cotton harvest season was dry and her throat was parched.  The Godavari was continuing its calm flow, and the little ripples created by its waves looked like diamonds twinkling in the summer sun. She closed her eyes. “How can nature carry its course when human nature has changed so much?” She sucked in a deep breath, even more flustered now. For God’s sake it might as well be Stone Age and not seventeenth century, she thought. She picked up a stone and threw it into the water, more to create a momentary distress to the calm flow of water than for the fun of watching water disperse in different direction. It did nothing to calm her. 

She heard laughter behind her and turned towards the source; a well-dressed man walked towards her with grace, the bhikbali in his ear marking him as a Brahmin. She will not cover her face; because a strange man has invaded what she thought was her private sanctuary. “So, what ails you? You look like you are ready to fight an army.” She snorted, “As far as I can see, it is none of your business.”

“Aah but you intrigue me.” He said, and looked down at her hands and noticed her twirling the silver ring she was wearing in the middle finger of her right hand, the silver clearly marking her as belonging to the Vaisya caste. The basket of cotton lying beside her further enunciated the fact marking her trade.

She smiled. She can handle conversations. “Well, I am just wondering how come people have changed so much from ancient times. It is like we are moving backwards rather than forward in all our thoughts and actions.” she commented. That part got him really interested. “What exactly are you talking about?” he quipped. “Well”, she replied, “have you ever wondered why every Hindu deity has a female compatriot equally revered?”

“Why?” he asked, and she puffed, “Because it takes both the male and the female to complete the assignations of nature. Only through the union of both man and woman can a new life be borne. But today all we see is the role of a woman as that of being the progenitor of life and carrying on household duties. Why, is a woman compelled to follow her husband in every sphere of life? Why is she complete only if she follows her wifely duties and takes care of her household? She is always a daughter, wife, sister or mother. Why isn’t she S-H-E?”

“And your point here, being what exactly?” he asked.

“Well my point is why is it that when Brahma created the universe, he created a woman to complement the man. But today when the woman is in her menstrual cycle, the same woman is barred from offering prayers in the temple and considered untouchable?” She noticed the man give a slight squirm and move back involuntarily but did not acknowledge his discomfort. She continued, “Have you ever wondered why when Brahma was the creator of everything, we do not have any temple dedicated to Him? Why are there no rites and rituals where he is worshipped, whereas we have so many temples for Shiva and Vishnu? It is because, he suffered the wrath of his wife Goddess Saraswati for performing some rites in her absence. Being her husband it was His duty to wait for her and give her the respect she deserved.” She was talking animatedly now. “And yes, do you know how far a woman has to travel to fill water so that the family can have food on time? Do you know how far she has to carry her clothes to be washed? And do you understand clothes weigh more than twice its weight after it is washed, so she has to carry all of it back home to dry it. Women were exempted from those duties in the Vedic times during those days. But that does not mean she can’t pray and that she has to be treated like an untouchable.”

He knew he was suffering her wrath for no fault of his, and could not really comprehend what he did to bring this up, but what she was saying made sense somehow. He stared back at her and she continued, “I will tell you the story Of King Ila, who happens to be my namesake, and who is credited with laying the foundation of the great Paithan, previously known as Pratisthana. It is said that once while on a hunting trip he had accidently strayed into a forest called Shravana. That is the place where Lord Shiva consorts with Goddess Parvati and as such was a private area. No men were allowed inside the forest and it is said that once a group of sages interrupted the Gods when they were making love. Furious at the interruption and violation of private space the Goddess cursed that any man entering the forest would turn into a female. King Ila ventured into the forest and he turned into a woman and his stallion turned into a mare. The king then prayed to the Lord to reduce the potency of the curse, wherein Shiva refused, but Parvati took pity on him and agreed to make him lead alternating lives as both a man and a woman for a month each all through his life. He would forget his life as a man when he turned into a woman and vice-versa. Do you see what the Goddess did?” she asked with passion.

“Yes,” replied the man, “she turned a fully functional man who was supposedly a good king into a man for half the time, and a woman for the rest letting him vacillate between two different kind of emotions and feelings, making him see things from a woman’s point of view, but at the same time making sure that he won’t remember the thoughts of the woman, once he turned into a man. I think the goddess knew that if he remembered his actions and feelings as a woman he would not be able to function and follow his duties properly. Like you said both man and woman has specific roles to play, and those roles have been defined and developed over the course of time to give each a place. It is the role of a man to provide for his family, and it is a woman’s role to make sure that the house is in order. Both are doing their duty properly.”

Not one to take things lying low she argued, “No, that is not the reason. I think the goddess thought much further ahead. She calculated the need of the hour and wanted to establish a line of new offspring who will eventually form the Chandravanshis. The Suryavanshis were already ruling the world and the goddess realized that this was creating a lot of rift within the world. There was chaos, wars and one-upmanship. There had to be a balance in the natural order of things. And for this balance to happen there has to be another race that can stand up to the formidable Suryavanshis. The goddess had already calculated in her mind that through the union of King Ila and the planet Budha a new race will be established.” She stopped and looked at the man not really sure whether he understood anything of what she was saying. After all, she had been lucky to have grown up listening to her grandmothers’ tales but not everybody, unless he is a scholar would really understand what she is really talking about. 

The man seemed to smile. He was after all a scholar in the ancient Vedas but it is not every day that he meets his match in knowledge, and especially never one from the opposite sex. He gave her a long piercing look. He was especially interested in the study of Chandravanshis, and as such the story of Ila and Budha’s union is one that he has read many times. In various scripts and in various Puranas the legend has been told and retold with different connotations, but the basic premise was always the same- that Shiva and Parvati accessed Shravana for private time and intruders were cursed to turn into females. So was King Ila. But today this girl has added another dimension to his studies by informing him that the Goddess had planned on starting the Chandravanshi dynasty with King Ila and Budha’s union. While the reason for the same may, or may not be true but it sure warranted further research. He looked back at her face, her almond eyes hiding none of the rebellious thoughts. Though this time he looked at her with respect.  He was travelling through this part of the village with his family members, who were camped further ahead. He had come to the bank of Godavari to get some water for them.

It was then that she noticed the copper pot in his hands. “You are travelling alone?” she asked. “Oh! No” he shook his head responding in negative, “My family is here, we are travelling to Sauviragram for personal work.” She looked at the pot in his hand and nodded. “I have held you up for much longer than necessary already” she said. “That is alright. The discussion was much delightful.” She smiled then. It is not always that a stranger compliments her motor-mouth. He turned to the bank and she moved towards the side to let him pass. When he looked back, he saw her walking away carelessly swaying her slim hips in a seductive motion. He filled his pot but his thoughts kept on veering back to the conversation he had had with her. He had not even asked her name, but she had said something to the effect of Ila being her namesake. He shook his head. He will have to convince his parents to break the alliance with the family he was promised to marry. After encountering a woman who provoked his thoughts this way and who made him think and reason, he will not be happy with a woman who did not titillate his brain.

(2)

The girl’s parents opened their home to the boy’s family. While the girl’s side looked happy, his family members were in discomfort. “No” screamed his mother when he first told them of his decision. His mother had cried, his father had threatened to dis-inherit him. He realized then how fatal and deep-rooted traditions and beliefs were for the males, and shuddered thinking what the girl must be going through.

The girl’s father excitedly turned towards the door, cleared his throat and said in a loud voice,“Purva, get the sherbet for the guests.”

The boy looked up to see a veil covered face handing him a glass of sherbet. But it was the gold ring in her middle finger that he noticed, clearly marking her as belonging to upper caste. He closed his eyes.

(3)

Illa came out holding a glass of sherbet, the veil merely covering her head and not her entire face. The boy’s mother was perplexed and the father uncomfortable. The boy fidgeted in his seat. She cleared her throat, smiled and added, “I cannot promise to be the best wife, or the best daughter. I have my own thoughts and a mind of my own. I know how to manage a household, but I do know things beyond these too. And if you can accept me knowing and respecting my individuality, I will try my best to keep all of you happy and be the best I can ever be. I will do that not for me but for our future generations, our children because they deserve better than what we have.”

The Brahmin boy stood in the threshold knowing he is late. It wasn’t difficult finding out who the outspoken girl he met on the bank of Godavari was. Will Illa of present day also lead a cursed life like her namesake King Ila who had to alternately lead life as a man and a woman, or will she emerge victorious, he mused? 

Where Magic Lives ...

Tirthan valley- A weekend at a mystical place ensconced within Himachal,the "khol khol" sound of the river flowing from behind the cottage where we put up was like a melody playing in the background, mists came and went like in an enchanted dream, and air so fresh you start feeling energized already, stray horses peep out to look at strangers and wild flowers springs out from every corner, food so fresh I can still feel the taste in my mouth. A place which really inspires !!

But reaching this place from Delhi, was not really an easy drive through winding highways and scenic hills in the distance offering photo-op at every nook. In fact it was just the opposite taking us almost 20 hours to finally reach the guesthouse. The long weekend (independence day weekend on 15th August 2014) and the rains can definitely be blamed for the traffic jams we encountered, it was definitely tiring. But how cool is it to wake up from a comforting sleep and open the door of your cottage and take in a sight like the picture below. Hills playing hide and seek with fogs, a happy wind trying to blow away a bit of the fog - nature at play. A stream flowing right ahead, and the sound along with those of birds and insects blend together like in a melody. It was love at first sight, literally ! (We reached after 12 at night and since there were power cuts, I didn't actually see anything the day before).

This is what we woke up to

Tirthan Valley, gets its name from Tirthan River- flowing through the valley- originates from the Himalayas. It is one of the virgin locations in Himachal, still untouched and non-commercialized. So unlike other locations, the air here is fresh, food organic and at times roads are non-traversable, or atleast difficult to explore. For a tourist who is always in a hurry or likes to be on the go, this is definitely not the destination to look forward to. This is an off-beat location for nature lovers who love to go on treks. During season time one can do a bit of angling and trout fishing, but for most part this is a place where one generally has no particular agenda in mind except relaxing. A place where you can just sit down with your novel or music and see how nature changes every few minutes. 

The first day was a super lazy day, the way vacations are supposed to be- you don't rush, you don't plan, but just go with the flow. We woke up late, we had a late breakfast at the super awesome cafe run by the owner of the Cottage we were put up at. The cafe is attached to the guest-house and not the cottage, but one can order in. I preferred the 1 km hike downhill. I have never see anyone as attached to nature as our owner. He has a cow who apparently gives 25 liters of milk everyday, and depending on the number of people the guesthouse is accommodating on a daily basis, the rest of the milk is made into cheese and ghee, which is then used to prepare food served in the cafe. He prefers to grow his own organic vegetables (which unfortunately due to the rains this year was destroyed by snails and slugs). He is also an heirloom seed conservator and grows everything from millet's to rice. Even the jam we had with the pancakes was prepared in their kitchen; and of course the fruits are home-grown. Tempting, isn't it ?

A view of the cafe (from where we sat we could see the Jibhi river and hear the sounds too)

During the latter part of the day, we did a small trek towards a waterfall near our cottage. The trail was short and it was a beautiful walk, with many pretty, wooden bridges scattered around the path towards the waterfall. The waterfall was beautiful. The water was fresh, and white - so clean. 

Meditation, anyone?

I have no patience writing, so I will cut this very short from here, and leave you to have a look at the pictures. 

This beauty peeped out to pose for me while we were trekking from Jhalori Pass towards the lake- day 2

Beauty that is the beast

On the second day (third actually if you count the first night) we decided on a day long trek (meaning around 6 hours of activity). It is a 5 km trek (one way) through a beautiful trek, which is not very strenuous. We took a little more than an hour and a half to reach the lake and were greeted by this (pictures on top) and a few more horses grazing in the meadow. We saw a few rabbits running around too, but they were too quick for my camera. We reached Jhalori Pass from Jibhi by our car, but the road was at times very steep. Along the trek we were greeted by birds, horses, rabbits and mists. It made me feel like I was walking through the jungles shown and described in books like "Lord of the Rings". Mists would gather suddenly and clear off as quickly giving the feel of a wizard chanting his abracadabra close by.

Isn't this magical or what?

We came across many wild flowers and beautiful grasses too, all through the trek. Yellow, pink and purple flowers covered the meadows that we crossed on the way to the lake.

When mentioning this place I must definitely mention the place where we put up. We rented a cottage at Rana Swiss Cottage. The website link for the same is http://www.kshatra.com/ . The cottage was beautiful and had a small veranda overlooking the hills. While during the day one can look at the hills and be amazed by its sheer beauty and size, during the night one won't be able to take their eyes off the starry sky. I haven't seen so many stars in last few years together, than I have seen in the Jibhi Sky. The Jibhi river just passes ahead from our cottage, and one can hear the sound of the river flow at all times. The  cottages are constructed using eco friendly material, and all care have been taken to ensure the comfort of guests.

A view of the cottage. Could not get a frontal view, but I am sure you get the drift. There are many trees- apple, cherry and plum surrounding the cottage area. Also a little trail from below the cottage takes you to a shaded area that Mr. Rana has designed so that guests can practice yoga,meditation or martial arts according to their own choosing. 

This was definitely four awesome days of sheer pleasure and connection with nature. Traffic jams and landslides couldn't dampen either my spirit neither the beauty of this place.

Crazy Schedules and Shopping

With my busy schedule and travel the only time I really get to shop for is not at my destinations but actually during transit at the airports. And I really don’t mind that much. Since airports stocks up variety and chosen products at a preferential rates than the ones I would actually get after I walk out from the airport. Chocolates, souvenirs, liquors and perfumes, in addition to accessories and clothes- one can very well choose the best of brands from a duty free shop.

After a long time, I had this opportunity to fly from Delhi and as soon as I completed my immigration formalities, I was greeted by a glitterati of lights and nicely showcased perfume stalls from the finest perfumers of the world. The stocking was eye catchy and the range of products available was also huge. I had been meaning to check out some perfumes so I strolled leisurely towards the perfumes section. There were some offers also available, but more than offers, it is always the product that finally clinches the deal for me. I have recently seen quite a few ads of Robert Pattinson donning the Dior homme perfume, so I went towards the Dior section first. In fact perfume and wide range of cosmetics by luxury perfumers is the first section of the Delhi Duty Free experience. And believe me when I say, you will be hooked from this section onwards. Awesome ranges of perfumes and cosmetics were lined up across big showcases. From Dior and Chanel to Issey Miyake and Elizabeth Arden, you will find one for everyone in your list. There were collector’s edition perfumes too, where some small bottles of five or six different perfumes by one particular perfumer like Estee Lauder and Bvlgari were packaged in a neat box- ideal for gifting. My journey had not even started and looked like I was about to spend all my money in the Delhi Duty Free section itself.

‘Get a grip’ I tell myself and saunter out of the perfume section only to be greeted by the liquor and chocolate section. I am not looking at the liquor section at all, but I can still see all the big brands like Johny Walker, Jim Beam, Baileys and the ever popular Red/Blue/Green/Black labels almost tauntingly inviting all connoisseurs to come and grab a bottle. The display is really effective, and I am sure it does have the desired effect, since the POS has a long queue. I am almost tempted to pick up a bottle of Irish Cream myself. Adjacent to this section is the chocolate section. I have a really sweet tooth, and this place was like a paradise for me. From Lindt to Guliyan this section boasts of stocking every brand any chocolate lover have heard of. There was a section of some of the most premium chocolates from across the globe and yeah, my favorite Godiva chocolates were nicely stacked. It was almost like they were calling out to me to grab all of those packs and run. And yeah, I did pick up a few, but considering that I had the journey to continue, I didn't want to be burdened by too many packets. 

Then I move on towards the clothes and apparel section. The collection In Delhi Duty Free is really admirable. The brands are also at par with any Duty Free Shop in the other airports. But one shop where I really splurged is the Swarovski store. They had some awesome collections, and some of the pieces were exclusive to the Delhi Duty Free Store only. I bought a pair of ear-rings for my mom and I did get a pendant for myself too. Although I am poorer by a few thousands I am really glad I stopped by Delhi Duty Free. Courteous and helpful staff and really hassle free shopping. Delhi Duty Free is now available for every traveler going onwards from Delhi Airport Terminal 3. For more details log on to: http://www.delhidutyfree.co.in/

Musings

Its been so long since I have written anything.  I have tried everything- blank stares at the wall, typing a few random words in the laptop to see if it keeps me going, cooking innovative food so I might be inspired enough to swing a story around it while writing the recipe, the travels, the rains and I come up with naught everytime. I can't be having a writers block for so long, can I ?

And then it all began. The tipper-tapper sound of the rain falling on the roof of the house. The splattering sound it makes when it hits the floor. The birds chirping in the distance. The rain drops on the window panes. And mixed with it all I can hear the distant sound of someone breathing. An even breathing like someone is asleep. I get out of the bed and look out the window.

A cool air hits my face, I can feel raindrops on my face. And then I look back at the bed hungrily, calling out to me. Still asleep, your mouth open, but its afternoon here and I have work to do.

Happy Sleeping, all of you who is now beautifully engulfed by the warmth of the night. What would I give to turn the clock right now! 

Some lost music,
Some Unwritten pieces of Poetry,
Of music unheard,
Of songs sans Melody

Of love, smiles and gifts..
...of Moments yet to come !!

The Scarlet Woman !!

My hair done up, my face flawlessly made

Lips as bright as a cherry red.

Smoky eyes, and the long slit dress

Chanel no. 5,  and how I swayed.

As the music played,

And I gyrated,

Every man was left jaded

The bubbly flowed,

My lips it caressed,

I saw your eyes follow me in-stead.

Scarlet woman they knew me as,

But for you I am the fair-maiden

Or  so I thought, before I saw

The look in your eyes now dissuaded.

You judged, you strayed

My mind now obeyed,

Why the title they bestowed,

“Scarlet Woman”- has now stayed.

Salt !!

The taste of the saltwater was still raw in his mouth. His nose still stung and he had a headache. He must have swallowed a sea of saltwater. He closed his eyes, and then the picture came back to him again. He felt the strong waves hugging him tight and pulling him down. His hands were flapping and he was trying to push himself out. Always a strong swimmer, the sea was his sanctuary and he like a fish was used to all it trials and tribulations.

The smell of the saltwater, the humid air, the fish- they have always had a calming effect on him. He had strong legs and hands and a muscular but lean torso. Coming out of the water, with the sun shining in the background and the water droplets shimmering on his shoulder like diamonds he looked like a Greek God. He gave his head a shake, to shake off the salt from his face and hair. His golden locks now forming soft curls and falling over his forehead. He looked at a kid playing at a distance and smiled at him. The kid smiled back. He picked up his towel and swung it over his shoulder and started a light sprint towards his shack.He heard bullet shots in the distance, or were they fire crackers.He didn't look back. He was angry. There was pollution everywhere nowadays and even the sanctity of this small beach town was slowly getting adulterated with the number of tourists that it garnered. Tourism was good for the livelihood of the people but it also meant an end to the routine and simple things that was so endearing about this town. 

It was late evening and he switched on the radio. The alert again. High Tide !! And then he remembered the kid. The kid was going towards the sea ready to jump in with all surfing gear. He had seen the kid in the neighborhood quite a few times over the last few weeks- innocent, independent  and aloof most times, the kid reminded him of himself about a decade back. The same anger, the same aura, the same desire to prove !! He heard some whispers close-by, some random music, almost like he was playing a part in a movie and he equated himself with the hero. He tried to shut-off his mind to the foreign sounds and concentrate.

He lugged his swimming suit and started sprinting towards the sea where most professional surfers take to tame the sea. He saw the figure in the distance entering the sea. He screamed out, but he didn't know the kids name. He cursed himself and increased his speed. He had spent quite some hours in the water just sometime back and his legs were giving away, but he kept on. He saw the figure enter deeper into the sea, and then he seemed to have caught up with him, only to have lost him again. He kept going deeper and screaming out to the boy. But the kid was already going under. And then he saw a mighty wave come towards him ready to swallow him too.

He felt the water pressure all around him. His heart started aching and he swallowed a lot of the water, the wave pulled him down. He closed his eyes and nose, but the wave was strong and managed to enter him. He could feel it stinging his brain now. And he was sure he would die. He tried hard and managed to kick one of his legs hard. It hit something like a wooden structure and then he felt a numbing pain sear through his legs and move up towards his body. He tried to mumble something, his legs still felt heavy but the pressure of water was gone. He tried moving his hands and they hit some something like the back of a sofa. It was dark and there was commotion all around, or so it seemed. The screen ahead of him flashed "Intermission- Grab your Drink and Snacks".