Mind your mind

A mad scientist friend offers you a chip that would allow you to know what the people you’re talking to are thinking. The catch: you can’t turn it off. Do you accept the chip?

Hell, no. I would most probably commit suicide if I knew what people were really thinking while talking to me.

But I would have like to stalk some of these people, for a little while, and “pick their brains”…..

… an elderly palace guard in Yogyakarta royal palace….

…a rickshaw driver in Yogyakarta….

a Balinese bride, getting her elaborate wedding photos taken….

…a lone camel driver, delivering water to the desert villages….

…my darling, snorkelling in Pulau Rhun, Banda….

…a guy looking into the fuming crater of Bromo volcano….

…off-duty masseur outside a temple in Melaka….

…guard in Angkor wat….

…monk near Luang Prabang….

(In the header: village women in Moni, Flores.)

 

Fearless dragon

How would your life be different if you were incapable of feeling fear? 

I’ve been thinking about this one for a day now.

(I’m not scared of sharks.)

I know only one specific thing, I would try scuba diving. I might die doing so, but at least I wouldn’t be panicking and kicking and screaming while it happens.

(snorkelling, or, actually, this one is from the pier)

I would go on a boat trip around the world. I used to love boats.

(This boat called Moana saved us after the shipwreck, I took the photo a year later.)

But actually, really…. all our little fantasies, why don’t we get rid of all those things that cause fear but should be avoidable – aggression, abuse, exploitation, bullying, mobbing, deliberately hurting people even in a mild and seemingly funny way.

There would still be enough to fear – pain, sickness, old age, death, separation.

I’m feeling really unwell at the moment, and realise that my usual little support networks are gone. They never work from a distance. I didn’t realise how lonely I would be on the road. Even with all those conversations you get with others. There haven’t been many of those here in India.  Too low season.

Maybe I wish I didn’t have this fear of being alone – so tired of being alone. And the most fearless thing I can think of is running back to a relationship that didn’t work and won’t work, because even that would be better than being alone. So incredibly tired. Sometimes feels like I’m a hundred years old.

In any case, just looking at these snorkelling and beach pictures, I know I’m going back to the sea, because that’s what I’ve been longing for. I wish I could go back to Raja Ampat or faraway places in Maluku without fear of a boat again. I wish I could stop being so horribly scared that I will never be able to hold down a job again. I wish I could just live with no fear of the future in this way. I was hoping travelling would make me feel better. I thought something as brutally challenging as India would make me throw away all unnecessary and cumbersome burdens, all my energy being taken up by the little everyday tasks of getting by. It worked out, in a way. But sometimes I feel like I don’t even know anymore who I actually am. This is not me, being here. And ten more days to go.

Sorry, this is not making any sense at all, but I hope you enjoy the photos.

(The photos were taken in Komodo national park, Indonesia.)

 

Frame of mind

“If you could paint your current mood onto a canvas, what would that painting look like? What would it depict?”

It’s actually like a series of paintings, each capturing a different mood. All of them are extremely lifelike, even on closer inspection, they look like photographs 😉

There is this image that reflects a never-ending, lonely journey in a hostile desert environment, feeling lost, chasing mirages in the relentless sun and rippling sands.

No hope. No nothing.

“What the hell do you want from me?! I told you I’m on holiday.”

“I told you I’m absolutely not going anywhere today.”

“No, not anywhere means nowhere, not anywhere!”

“Gonna bite ya.”

“When you are not looking, I’m actually kind of like the king of the desert, but incessant complaining is a lot more entertaining and enjoyable.”

 

If walls could talk

“You’ve just inherited a dilapidated, crumbling-down grand mansion in the countryside. Assuming money is no issue, what do you do with it?”

Haha, couldn’t have thought of a better prompt for the opportunity to post a few photos of Rajasthan’s majestic hill forts 🙂 Inasmuch as you can call them crumbling grand mansions. But why not?

Of course, I would do up my mansion following Unesco World Heritage’s strict guidelines, open a museum, and rake in the money 🙂 But unfortunately, the relevant government bodies and / or royal families have beaten me to it.

In Jaisalmer fort, I would strongly encourage the drying of laundry, especially colourful saris, off the balconies, for an enhanced photographic experience for visitors.

I would clean up the area around the bastions and make it possible to walk around the perimeter of the fort on a nice, clean walkway for 360 degree views of the town and desert.

Some anti-pigeon measures would be necessary, though strongly adhering to the Jain principles of not hurting any living being. You don’t want to upset the richest local community.

Otherwise, of course, Jaisalmer fort is an endangered monument and still needs a lot of conservation work to stop it from just crumbling down the hill. I promise I would not embezzle the relevant funds.

Now, as for Amber fort…

I would deal with the elephant and jeep mafia, and make it easy for everyone to ascend the slope. If I’m still alive after this, I would make sure drinking water is sold inside the fort…. shouldn’t be a big deal.

I would do some kind of treasure hunt or dress-up game for visitors. The fort is beautiful, but too deserted (it was abandoned 300 years ago, they ran out of water as well), too lifeless, too plain in a sense. It needs to be more alive somehow. I know many people would hate my ideas, but if it’s my “mansion”, I could do as I please, right? 🙂

By the way, I love the architecture here. There is a lot of Mughal (Persian) influence in the designs, but the ruling family was actually Hindu.

The Hindus had the same segregation of males and females as the Muslims. Even the queens were nothing more than hi-so prisoners looking at the outside world through marble or sandstone lattice windows….

…which are amazing artwork, my favourite feature of the Taj Mahal and all the other places as well. But it’s sad to think back to those days. I’m glad we’re living in different times, even in India.

(But just maybe, there is a market niche here, some rich western ladies would like to get locked up and pampered like queens for a day or two, while their husbands go on a camel safari? Should do some market research here.)

(And I really need to add this photo of my favourite Indian so far. He was giggling and laughing and screaming with delight when he saw me.)

I’m yet to visit Jodhpur fort (I can see it outside my room), I might choose that one for my crumbling mansion. How long is the offer standing? 🙂

This is my 100th post in this blog. Thank you so much to all my readers and friends who have supported and encouraged me along this journey.

Daily prompt

 

Roaring laughter

I don’t think I ever laugh like that. But my camel does.

Daily prompt

 

 

Careful what you wish for

In the land of so many powerful gods and djinns, and yet, doesn’t look like a lot of prayers are coming true. Or, maybe, people are wiser and know better what to wish for?

Details from Amber fort and City Palace (Jaipur)

Last time I went to a shrine where people make wishes, I didn’t make one. Why would I? The gods are looking on us indifferently. Or, they grant us anyway what they know we need, irrespective of what we ask for. Totally in vain trying to interfere with destiny.

In Fatehpur Sikri, people make wishes by tying threads to the delicate marble lattice windows around the shrine of a sufi saint, who is said to have granted the king the birth of a male heir.

So many times I made promises and wishes, I got them back all twisted, like someone out there is laughing at me. Not malignantly, but playing around. I’m not really asking anymore.

Ganesha everywhere on the walls of Jaisalmer

Not sure about what it is, gods or fate. Faith or fate.

All I can say, if you want me to grant you a wish, come and ask for it, and then we’ll see if it’s simply meant to be. Like the cow in the header, banging on the door with its nose. How would I know what you want or need if you don’t tell me? And if even the gods mess it up, so many times, then why would you trust my power? Just careful what you wish for. Small things. And the big things, that’s not our playground. Even if I was a genie with magic powers.

Paintings at Galtaji (monkey temple) in Jaipur

Daily post

 

An Odd Trio

Come on, what sort of an assignment is this? 🙂

I’m allergic to cats, I had the worst asthma attack of my life when I was taking care of a dozen kitties and their two mothers. I haven’t seen a beach for two months. And I’m only dreaming about a bowl of soup, in my current state of stomach.

Sounds like the kind of silly little five-minute assignment I would give to my students for fluency practice. And now I’m failing at my own game. Epic. 🙂

But I have found some photos of fabulous trios for y’all, like….

a family on the beach in Bali (sans towels)

a family in Nepal

monkeys peeking in the gaps in Jaipur, India

happy guys on a Pelni boat from Ambon to Banda, Indonesia

rickshaw drivers in Melaka, Malaysia

young novices right after their ordination in Chiang Mai, Thailand

our kittens Pötyi, Blacky and Tiggie

some of my 4th grade students in Yangon, Myanmar, on national day

I did mention soup, beach towels and cats, didn’t I? So am I getting a passing grade? 🙂

 

Strike a chord

I’m tone deaf. Don’t care much about music anyway. But gamelan music, all that complete cacophony, somehow strikes a chord with me. I even enjoy listening to young men study and practice in the temples in Bali. These pictures, however, were taken in the royal palace in Yogyakarta.

I remember it was fascinating to find bits and pieces of the erstwhile Hindu kingdom in Java – not just the temple ruins, but the shadow puppets with their deep symbolism, and the music that goes with it.

The Ramayana epics are still widely performed in festivals and temples across the now-Buddhist nations, but I was surprised to find it in the palace of the Muslim ruling family in Yogyakarta.

There are many workshops around the palace, hand-crafting puppets from buffalo hide, using natural dyes, and the craftsmen who show visitors around didn’t even understand my question regarding a potential conflict with their faith. It’s our culture, they would say.

And then go on explaining the details about Shiva and Vishnu, and their favourite story, the relationship between Rama and Sita. This seems to be a famous scene but I can’t find the meaning 😦

I wish I knew more, I only remember snippets. Gold is dignity. Red is anger. Vishnu (below) is black. Evil characters have bigger noses. Virtuous characters have slit eyes. The round behinds represent earthly desires and connections to mundane ideas, the head is about intellectual and spiritual powers.

Oops, this was supposed to be about music, wasn’t it? But can’t you hear the gamelan orchestra in the background? I certainly do.

The image in the header happens to be from the royal wedding in Ubud, Bali.

Daily post

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/strike-a-chord/

Wrong turns

My life is a story of wrong turns – accidental, intentional. Sometimes they lead to adventures. Sometimes to disasters. Sometimes both at the same time. I’m an expert.

I’m in India at the moment because I insisted on taking a turn that I knew full well I should not be taking. And now I’m putting myself through it and trying to get something out of it. Something good. A life experience. All along knowing that I’m not where I should be, absolutely not at all.

I’m doggedly pursuing my wrong turns until I can squeeze something good out of them. And in the process, sometimes, I end up deeper and deeper into the mud. Never escaping, making the run early enough. Never one to give up a wrong decision until it gets the worst possible.

I have no idea why. Ok, I do have a few vague guesses.

These photos are from a wrong turn that I took by accident, and which led me to adventure, friendship, and a heartbreak. This is where actually I became the fearful dragon.

I guess this is a wrong turn I should be regretting, given what happened afterwards (during the last world cup final, too, now that I think of it). But how could I regret this? The sense of flying, screaming, being free? And how could I regret anything at all? Then pretty much nothing would be left of my life.

Daily writing challenge  http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/wrong-turns/