without leaving footsteps

Had gone to visit the family astrologer for a friend and could not resist asking where I was heading. Wish I had not, as he told me that my 18 years of Rahu were beginning in January 2015. 63 + 18 takes me to the ripe age of 81. I guess exit time will be under the Rahu spell. Rahu is also known as the dragon's head. Dragon is my Chinese astrological sign!  But Rahu is a severed head that swallows the sun causing eclipses and is depicted in art as a serpent with no body riding a chariot drawn by eight black horses. Not the best image to lead you through 18 years and I believe that it all depends on where the planet is placed in your chart. I do not know the details but hope it is not too bad as  Rahu dasha can either be the best time of any person's life or plunge him into deep trouble depending on which planet is controlling him. There seems to be no middle path so let us hope for the best. It is also said that  Rahu dasa gives immense scope for obtaining spectacular results from worship or dhyana. Worship of Goddess Durga pleases Rahu the most and he confers immense benefits to the worshipper. Rahu is seen as an asura or demon who does his best to plunge any area of life he controls into chaos. Guess who is going to worship Durga unabashedly. Let us say in all honesty that I am truly worried as my life is linked to too many others and thus I maybe need to hand over to someone with a good planets ! Chaos is not what I wish for transition and/or mutation time at project why. And yet it will all have to be done under the watchful eye of Rahu as will my bucket lists and last hurrah!

Did a bit of research - bless Aunt Google - and discovered that my Rahu is in Aquarius. What I found in one of the pages was quite amusing and spot on if it works. It says that Rahu in Aquarius is an excellent placement for, hold your breath; professional labor union organiser, leader of regulated lawful social-change movements; orchestrator of rallies and gatherings; fund-raisers! That sounds great for one who us looking for donors! If what is written is correct than Rahu gets ahead via large scale networks. Of course before I could rejoice tool much another article provided the tempering needed, talking about worries and troubles and over confidence. When Rahu is in Aquarius then Ketu, the tail of the severed head is in Leo and it is said that these Nodes represent the struggle between the personal life and an impersonal dedication to humanity. The Leo Ketu symbolises prior lives where much revolved around the self. The Rahu in Aquarius points to a future of service for mankind, where the individual will assume the role of the ‘waterbearer’, so that he may be an instrument in the crusade for world evolution. Before he can do this, the enormous power of the Leo Ketu must be dealt with. What it means is that one was very self centred in ones past life and it's payback time. Sounds spot on again. The line I like best was the following: His  karma now is to learn how to walk lightly, without leaving footsteps, for in essence he is the ruler making ready to abdicate his throne.

How true. Time has come to make myself so tiny that my footsteps become invisible and I can hand over the mantle and move on.

This is what awaits....

I am busy being grateful

I am busy being grateful are words I chose to append to my signature in my email account. I did  this many years ago when I was overwhelmed with gratitude at everything I had been given in life. Then somehow when forgot about them though they sat at the bottom of each and every email waiting to be acknowledged again. I do not know why, but as I sat to write a quick mail to my daughter telling her that her Papa was safe, the words stared at me and their defining silence was full of reproach. I stood exposed as I am guilty of having forgotten for far too long how indebted I am for having been given so much. Even if I spent all the hours I have left, be they day or night, thanking God and all those who have sprinkled my life with miracles, big and small, I would still not be able to express  my gratitude. Today is a wake up call.

Ranjan is safe. It took those terrible hours to bring me back to earth and to realise how infinitesimal we are in the face of Nature and God. We may fall prey to the most exalted hubris but are brought back to earth with a bang in no time. Nature is a great leveller. It makes no difference who and what you are. I wish we understand this better. As for God he has a plan that only he knows; we as humans can only bow to His Will and understand that his plan is better than ours. I thank the Almighty for the grace he has blessed me with.

But that is not where it ends. I could not have survived this ordeal if it were not for a multitude of people, known and unknown, who reached out to me. Every word of comfort that was sent to me helped me immensely and I am deeply grateful for all who took time to write a few words. Those who know me well knew in what state I was. To all of you a big Thank You!

Then there are those who helped me trace Ranjan: a long time friend now in an important position who used his network to send rescue appeals; my colleague who went to the local Kashmir office to send a message through their wireless and even spoke to an army officer who confirmed that the group had been rescued; friends who used their connections to send messages and all those who sent their suggestions that I have dutifully followed. I do not know which one worked. For me each and everyone did.

But there are some others I need to thank: the reporters of all the news channels who continued reporting even when they had no news of their own loved ones and helped us have a connection, however tenuous, with our loved ones; the people who are working day and night, in dangerous conditions, to bring our loved ones home; the staff of the hotels who must be doing everything in their power to make our loved ones comfortable. I can only fold my hands in gratitude and say: thank you.

Yes I am busy being grateful!

We won

I need to fill my mind with happy and positive thoughts and who else can provide these but my darling grandson! In a recent Skype call he announced with heat aplomb that his soccer team had won 8-2. Yes the bloke is now on a soccer trip with a game each ween end. In this picture he still does not have his kit, the other kid has it, but he is part of the Dragon team. For this match Doreamon had to fill in! While he was telling me all about his winning, his mom was making strange faces. It transpired that his team had lost 8-2. But Agastya had his logic. The ball entered his goal and thus he won. It will take him time to understand the true rules of the game.

This picture is not one of the said match. For the match he had his gear and was over the moon. The gear was the most exciting thing of the day. He was playing defence with his pal but they were too busy comparing their gear and the Tshirt was more important than the ball. Anyway what lay behind them was 'their' goal so what was the fuss about. His father and his coach could scream what they wanted, the two boys had better things to do.

They have time to grow up. For now let them play by their rules. It is what makes children so special and brings a big smile on Nani's face making her forget, albeit for a few minutes, all her worries.

Sometimes there is nothing you can do

It has been almost two days since I have heard Ranjan's voice. Since then, silence, a silence so deafening that you get devoured by it. And in that silence your mind works over time building scenarios that would put Oscar winning story writers to shame. Your imagination runs wild more so as it is helped in ample measure by the feeling of helplessness that engulfs you. More than that, when your loved one is in danger of any kind and you cannot be of help, a sense of guilt pervades you. This guilt is insidious and has no real ground and you know it, but in those moments only the heart rules.

I do not know why I cancelled all my appointments but it felt the right thing to do. Somehow the idea of exercising or going for a meditation class or even a work meeting seem anathema. So what do you do. You sit in front of the box that shows you in a loop the same images of the place your loved one is and maybe in doing that you feel, quite erroneously,  that you are with your loved one in spirit. I know it sounds stupid. I know that Ranjan will laugh when I tell him that. But at this moment, sitting in front of the screen and staring at the images without quite seeing them, holding on to the phone in the hope that it will ring whilst knowing that it cannot be, as all lines are down, writing a message on FB just to feel you are not alone, wrecking your brain to find anyone who could maybe help, hunting for your prayer beads and praying, taking a break while walking aimlessly in the house before starting all over again. That has been my regimen as I need one to keep thoughts in check, the stop my mind from wandering too much.

Everyone is worried. My first born calls from the US frequently. Friends call or send text messages all wanting to know as soon as I get news. Maybe I should start making a list of all those I need to contact when I finally get news. It will take care of some of the time that is ticking at a snail's pace in true Bergsonian style.

Think positive is what everyone is saying and I am trying to do just that. So let me end by saying that Agastya is waiting for his Nanou for their next game of golf!

24 hours

The last 24 hours have been the longest in my entire existence. I last spoke to Ranjan exactly 24 hours ago and his words were: we are in dire straits and need help. It is an SOS. Then silence. The network died and I have been unable to establish direct contact and if one is to believe the news, connectivity will be resumed in 48 to 72 hours. The last I heard was that Ranjan was in his hotel that was relatively safe as on a higher point but part of his group was in a hotel situated at a lower level and its two floors had been flooded. He was feeling helpless as there was no way he could reach out to them and worried as they were now without food or water as kitchen and stores are rarely on upper floors. I wonder if they have run out of provisions in his hotel by now. I hope not. I also realise that I will not know if and when they are rescued because of the communication breakdown. I have never felt so helpless.

For a control freak like me this is a nightmare. Helplessness is the sworn enemy of control freaks and I have been turning like a lion in a cage the whole day. Finally here I am resorting to the only known catharsis for me: writing. Wonder how I spent the day. True to my control freak persona I had to find 'things' to do and I did. I tried all the helplines I could find on news channel and on the net but NONE worked. So I sent Dharmendra, my colleague and strong support, to Jammu and Kashmir House and he was able to give the details and seek help. He saw the names been loaded on a computer but only God knows what would have happened to the list. It may be still sitting on the hard disk of the said computer. Then I wrecked my brain to find out at whose door I could knock and remembered and olf friend who is a senior officer in the Intelligence Bureau and contacted him. I presumed he would have some mean of communication. He promised to see what could he do and informed me that he had sent a rescue request. Not knowing whether it was acted upon is again nothing short of killing. I hope it has reached the right place and some action has been taken. I then turned to FB more to get some support and was overwhelmed by all the positive vibes that were sent to me. There were a few suggestions and I complied immediately.

But came the time when I knew I could do nothing else. And that is when I knew I had to 'write' as otherwise I would go insane. Writing helps me get rid of my angst and put things in perspective. Last year at about this time, I was battling Ranjan's cancer but I was in charge and that made things easier. I use to write everyday to share every aspect of my battle with all at large. Somehow putting it out there on the web helped in some strange way. It also helped me voicing the concerns and worries and that made addressing them a little easier. My main worry is of course Ranjan's health as much of his recovery is based on him following a healthy and strict regimen. I have been wondering about his food and water and the quality of the two, the later being more critical. The helplessness is at its zenith as I have no way of knowing and even less of helping. Even if I found my way to Srinagar there is little I could do.

I am also concerned about the stress Ranjan is going through as he is accompanied by a group of 50 golfers, some with spouses and I know how helpless he is feeling as knowing him, I know he feels responsible for each of them and will not budge unless all of them are safe. Part if his group is from Lahore and unfortunately they are in the hotel that is most affected. Now stress is cancer's worst enemy and I am keeping my fingers crossed hoping that the adrenaline rush he must be feeling, keeps him safe. I guess I will only know what is happening when he lands home after making sure his brood has landed home too.

As I write these words, I also realise how selfish one can be when a loved one is in trouble. This tragedy is huge and Ranjan and his pals will come back to safety once they are rescued. But what about the local people who have lost everything they own; the children in flooded hospitals, the elderly who can not move on their own. And what about the children who must be bewildered and scared beyond words. When will they come home, if home they have! My heart goes out to them and I feel a little guilty not having thought of them earlier. This is how writing helps me: to put things in perspective and take a little distance from my own limited concerns.

Two men

2014 - 103, 65, 62, 40 and 40! Wonder what these numbers are. The first goes without explanation. The other two are a riddle no one but me can solve. 103 is the age my father would have been today; 65 is Ranjan's - the husband - age today, 62+ some months is how old I am today and 40 and 40 are the number of years I have spent with the two men I love most. Papa and Ranjan share a birthday or almost: the former was born on August 15th and the later on August 14.

These two men undoubtedly made me who I am even if it took me long years to realise this and learn not only to accept it but to celebrate it as though they outwardly are as different as chalk and cheese, their heart and spirits are almost clones of each other. And today I realise that I have spent exactly the same amount of years with each of them with a few of them overlapping of course. Those would amount to 22 years! 

As I said these two men have a lot more in common than you may want to believe. First of all they both fell in love with me almost instantly. I took Ranjan a week to propose! And in spite of lots of ups and downs they never wavered no matter how many doors I banged or tears I shed, they waited unobtrusively for the brat to come to her senses. Papa or Tatu as I called him, made me from a crying lump of flesh to a caring and erudite human being. He patiently and lovingly moulded the raw material and taught me right from wrong as well as  the courage to walk the road less travelled. He let me make my mistakes and get hurt, sometimes deeply but was always there to wipe the tears, tender to the wounds and help me get up and run again. The day he left the world I think he, more than anyone else and most of all me knew that I was ready to jump without the parachute he had been.

But none of this would have been possible without another man who gave me the total freedom to  walk all the less travelled roads and also stood in the wings lest I fall, and fall I did. He simply picked me up without a single word of retribution or even counsel and set me on another course. If one moulded the raw material, the other allowed it to grow and bloom the way I wanted it to. And I would be unethical if I did not say that the road(s) I chose went against all the conventions and mores that we are meant to live by. He defended me like a knight in shining armour at every moment of my life. I must admit that I now realise that it must not have been easy for him but he never uttered a word. Just like Pa, I think he was and is proud of the person I am. It is now my turn to prove to him that he was right.

Today I want to tell both these incredible human beings that I love them and always will. May God bless them.

Happy birthday Ranjan and Ram. 

My heart is covered

in his nanou's shorts!

My heart is covered! Agastya my grandson flew away two hours ago after two joyful months with us. You may wonder what the expression 'my heart is covered' means and where it originates. Let me elucidate. This expression is part of my grandson's delightful lexicon that never ceases to amuse and amaze me and that I gleefully appropriate. He used it first about a week or so ago when he fell ill and nauseous. My heart is covered with the rice is what he stated and believe you me, we all understood what he meant. The ensuing days were terrible as the poor boy went through the nightmare of the famed Delhi belly! 

Today my heart is covered not with rice or pasta, but with an indescribable medley of feelings ranging from melancholy to acceptance laced with a tinge of fear as well as forbearance and even an imbue of  unease. The fear of course is transient but will choke the covered heart till all the planes land safely till their final destination. In the present scenario this means 6 unending days and nights as they break journey in Paris.

This bundle of joy has for the past 70 days and nights ruled my heart and my life and I have complied unabashedly. He slept with us - Nanou and I - as he has always done for the past 5 years irrespective of all the canons of child rearing and the initial barely expressed resentment of his parents were soon set aside as he was the one who decided on the matter. 

My heart is covered by the emptiness that greeted me this morning when in my half sleep, I extended my hand in search of my little foot. You see even the hands and feet are divided: one set being mine and the other his nanou's. I cannot tell you how empty the world felt for that instant before the heart was assuaged by reason and the emptiness translated into the realisation that he was gone! It had been just a few hours but they felt like eternity.

As I crept down the stairs to my burrow, the silence was palpable and overpowering, even for one who revels in solitude. My eyes refused to stray on the tiny objects left behind - a bright pair of crocs,   some cars his Mom refused to put in the suitcase and a tshirt hung on the banister presumably for drying and presumably conveniently forgotten for want of space again. I know that as the day enfolds there will be innumerable reminders of the little fellow's stay at home. My heart is covered by this deafening silence that will become louder and louder as I miss my agyTalk! 

Yesterday was a strange day. Agastya, his grandad and I were protagonists of an unwritten play, or should I say a play that enfolded from the heart to alleviate the pain of each of the three characters. Even though I had been telling Agastya about his leaving late night on Saturday and making plans for the rest of the day, he woke up in a quaint mood and stated he wanted to go to to the airport NOW and wait for the plane. Was this his way of telling us that he was OK leaving and actually quite happy about it. Then how do you explain the fact that he spent most of his day lolling on our bed and treating us to unexpected hugs and kisses, making sure that each of his grandparents had the same amount? To his performance was our counterpoint. Though our hearts and guts wanted to tell him how much we would miss him and how much we would have wanted him to stay and how lonely everything would be without him, we spent the day talking of his trip, of the treats that awaited him when he stopped over to meet his other set of grandparents, and then the delight of being reunited with his Dad and all the things he would be getting back to and of course his new school. While he filled the day with caring gestures we choked it with words, comforting more ourselves than him. I think all that needed to be said was what was left unvoiced.

The love between a child and his grandparent is unique and blessed. Sadly I never met my paternal grandparents and my maternal grandmother died when was a little older than Agy, hence the illogical disquiet. In those times there were no phones let alone Internet and Skype. There were letters that came in the diplomatic bag once a week and the home leave that happened once in 3 years when papa changed postings. So do your maths and you will see that I must have spent not more than a few months with my Nani, but she filled those with so much love and laughter that a sense of warmth and loving chokes me each time I think of her. I just hope that I can do the same for my darling boy. 

Once again we will have to learn to live without that bundle of joy zipping through the house and through our hearts and fill the enormous void as best we can. I guess I will get back to looking after my other boy - the husband - who was a tad neglected when Agy was here. You see Agy takes all the place. I will cook Ranjan healthy vegan meals. Now that should take some time with hunting for recipes, shopping and then the actual cooking. Maybe I shall stop stocking up and buy for the day. Then of course there are my Pilates classes, and my swimming and hold on I am planning to buy a bicycle today and start cycling around the park of the colony. The last time I cycled was when I was 14! Then I have promised to set 2 hours everyday to get on with my book about project why and then the usual work should take some more time. I guess books will come to the rescue. 

But I know that all this and more can never fill all the void in my heart. That will only happen when he walks into my room a year from now and gives me a hug. You cannot hug on Skype!