What's your song?

Human mind is marvelous at associative memories. I was going through my old iPod playlist recently, there were songs that left me awash with memories of people, places, and moments shared and lived like eons ago. 

Let me give you a sample of how back in time some of these songs go. I can still remember sitting in the junior school playground steps under the winter sun and the tall pine trees and listening to a schoolmate sing BoyZone song ‘Isn’t it a wonder..’ There was another schoolmate who would belt Kishore Kumar songs in a slight nasal tone and another who would sing the Hindi song ‘Chura Liya Hai Tumne Jo Dil Ko Nazar Nahin Churaana Sanam’ with all the feels that a 8th grader could emote.

Going even further back in time (when I have no real memory), I am told that my song was Kishore Kumar’s ‘Chingari koi bhadke..’ It was the song playing on the radio station when the doctor announced my birth. My uncle suggested naming me ‘Chingari’, thankfully, my parents did not oblige but I am a short-tempered ‘Chingari’ in some ways!

We have a song that we performed in school/college; it was ‘the IT song’ of that era.
We have a song that we prepared for our siblings wedding; it’s ‘our’ song.
I have a 1.5 yr old niece who does not speak but she dances enthusiastically to ‘bala bala’ song anytime it is on TV or her mom play for her. It’s ‘her’ song.
My 1-year-old son does the actions of a nursery song when he wants us to sing for him or better still play the song on the iPad. ‘Skidamarink a dink a dink’ is his song..

It is truly fascinating to see the associations that we start to build up with music and songs even as small babies, perhaps one of the first ways that we learn to communicate. The first musical experience always comes from family, the force is strong is some cases-Billie Eilish strong or else you will find your musical destiny in the outside world eventually.

I can clearly see my musical inheritance in my parents neatly stacked cassette tape. All the devotional songs stacked together, Hindi movie songs (Kishore & Hemant Kumar/Mukesh/Rafi/Lata Mangeshkar & Asha Bhosle) and a separate stack of eclectic ghazals . Slowly my sister and I added our collection of mixed tapes- swapping and recording cassette tapes from friends and neighbors. This trading went all the way to college with upgrades to CDs and then flash drives. Hello Bryan Adams, Atif Aslam I guess we never reconnected after college but you were part of the ‘best days of my life’!

Our music choices are partly temporal driven by popularity and availability at a certain point of time but they are also very personal- a reflection of our state of mind. There is a personal and social component to music discovery and appreciation. Some artists/music you appreciate of your own volition, other are like an acquired taste, an osmosis process. Technology has further aided the process of music discovery, I was a heavy Pandora user at a certain point of time, listening to different stations and discovering similar artists. Then trying to find free downloads of the song, for some reason I like to own my music in my iPod (I completely understand the hypocrisy of the statement). When it comes to books, I keep away from piracy as much as I can; I either pick up library books, get a personal physical copy or kindle e-book. However, when it comes to music I am a complete parasite.

After meandering a lot, I guess I should talk about the song that triggered this chain of thoughts. Last Sunday when bubs was sleeping, I turned on the speaker in the kitchen and after ages listened to ‘Aaj jaane ki zid na karo.’.-Farida Khanum. I stood still for a while just soaking in the song, as a parent you come to realize that time is truly fleeting. I guess what struck a chord somewhere deep down was the celebration of the moment, the now, the present. Especially now with the whole corona-virus fear gripping us, it was a good reminder to slow down and appreciate the ‘work from home’ time..

“Wakt kee kaid me jindagee hai magar
chand ghadiya yahee hain jo aajaad hain
inako khokar mere jaaneja, umrr bhar naa tarasate raho
aaj jaane kee jid naa karo..”

Heartbeats

To hear, to feel, to see-the rhythm of life..
So close to me yet revealing in only signs and feelings. Shrouded deep in mystery, making me both terrified and excited. Seeking reassurances in moments of silence.

I asked the outlines of the tall mountains against the dark sky,
The moon that later appeared in its daily rounds..

I asked the river as our bamboo raft made way,
And the birds that swooped to catch their prey..
I stood at the harbor asking the waves,
Even the wild ones that were busy in their play
I asked the swish of the water as I swam,
And the playful spray of the monsoon waterfall 

Did you hear the little heartbeats?

Sometimes I wonder if life is but a feeling. We feel most alive in the momentary flutters and the rush of emotions. Yet life is bigger than just being alive, it is about growing, learning and opening up to new experiences and feelings. To be honest the normal grind of human life follows the same rhythm (getting education, job, marriage, family) yet inevitably we embrace the flow of life because we develop attachments and feelings that we think we are incapable of. To feel vulnerability and great strength at the same time, to feel the little heartbeats in moments of silence..

Guilin Travels

In my mind the post's title has a faint word association with the book title 'Gulliver's travels'... I just skimmed a picture book as a child so the Lilliputian image stayed in my mind and as we toured the famous karst landscape of Guilin i couldn't help but feel like a Lilliput surrounded by magnificent peaks that rise from flat ground sudden and unprecedented. 

Every vista is breathtaking and immensely playful in some way, you can weave a thousand stories with the characters that begin to take shape if you look at these peaks for a quite moment. It is quite fun to hear the tour guide's version of the popular folklore passed down in ancient Chinese poems, stories and try to visualize it. 

A more tangible visualisation that has acquired popular currency is commemoration of a landmark site on the country's currency. The primary image on the reverse side of the new 20 Yuan note is a view of a fisherman on his bamboo raft floating down the Li River through the spectacular Karst mountains of Guilin, so when the tour guide made the announcement that we were nearing the scenic spot even the sleepy eyed jumped out of their reverie and whipped out their 20 Yuan notes to compare notes...(multiple pun intended).

We did a Easter weekend trip to Guilin and Yangshuo and came back with a completely different perception of China-Everything somehow works despite Everything...! With my HK bought sim we were navigating around with Google, people were incredibly helpful and our 'flag bearing' tour group guide found us or we found them somehow. Also Yangshuo being a very popular destination with foreign tourists, both language and finding vegetarian food is not much of a struggle.

We took a bullet train to Guilin from Shenzhen and after an overnight stay we took the early morning Li river cruise to Yangshuo. Its a 4hour cruise, a leisurely way to make your way downstream while admiring the abandon and playfulness of Nature. It is an experience that will stay in some quite recess of the soul forever-complete with the colors, shadows and reflections. 

To capture the sound as well, Yulong river bamboo rafting will do the magic. Sitting on makeshift chairs atop bamboo raft(poles tied together), it is the traditional way to experience the beauty of the river, the mountain, the quaint countryside and farms-all to the accompaniment of the swishing sound of the bamboo paddle(pole) and chirping birds.

For an aerial view(sum of the parts view) head to Xianggong Hill, just a 15min climb will reward you with the most breathtaking view of the entire trip(headline picture).

This area is a geological marvel and has some spectacular caves with breathtaking stalactite and stalagmite formation but the jazzy lighting was a major distraction in my opinion. We also went for the famous Liu San Jie Impression Light Show in Yangshuo(same guy who choreographed Beijing Olympics). The waters of the Li-river set the stage and a dozen beautifully lit karst formations form a natural backdrop, so it is quite awe-inspiring in that regard however you don't really follow the plot(no info for non-Mandarin speaker)and the imagery doesn't elevate to magical levels.

Longji rice terrace are better attempted from Guilin with a night halt so didn't work with our short itinerary. Hopefully there will be a next time to explore the area further in a more self reliant way without the tour groups.

So Long, misty mountains and shadows!

Notes from Down Under

This was our first trip to English speaking world in around 3 years, so there was less travel research involved. There was no detailed itinerary and no cheat sheet for common words and phrases especially for ordering vegetarian food. We just picked up our bags and with other Chinese New year tourists in tow headed to Sydney. The plan was to explore the city, spend a day at the beaches, a day tour to Blue Mountains, may be another tour to the vineyards in Hunter valley and call it a wrap.

Sydney is an easy city to naviate with a straighforward public transport system-train,buses & ferries and the city centre is best explored on foot. All the major city attractions are in close vicinity and we surveyed most of them in the course of an evening stroll on Day1(stepped out at 6pm after catching some sleep at the hotel). The next day we did the deep dive-guided inside tour of Sydney Opera house, leisurely walk in the botanical gardens with 20 pictures on the same spot.. Sydney bridge walk(with highway traffic on one side and wired mesh on the other side and sun shining overhead). Museums-contemporary Art was a good one and again lots of pictures of the city from different vantage points and lots of ice-cream in between.
And just as you start the day with a good long black, you end the city tour with a cup of cappuccino in any one of the cosy little cafes that catches your fancy.

Our beach day was hijacked into a walking tour as well, we did the 6km coastal trail from Bondi to Coogee while stopping periodically to play in the sand and waves and watch the surfers at their game. Beaches have their own character and culture, and i guess the Australian 'no-worries' mantra is quite palpable here. The waves are also quite fiesty here, almost kicking you out of the water.
There were lots of joggers giving us company on the trail. I would say that the joggers are spoilt for choice in Sydney- the botanical gardens, the sydney bridge, coastal trail, Hyde park(local will have their own favorites). We spend the evening at Manly beach and it was perfect to take the night ferry back-bedazzled city lights celebrating Lunar New Year. I guess what can really top an awesome day is an awesome dinner and it was quite easy to pick winners in Sydney.

Food is a big part of travel experience, sometimes you can remember a place just for a meal that you had. The dosa and filter coffee I had on one rainy day in Munnar is still my benchmark for authentic South Indian food and every-time i sit down in a south Indian restaurant i am hoping for those flavours that exist only in my memory. There is an intrinsic local knowledge, produce and traditions that makes food special from a place but the rest is a function of our memory and the associations that we build.
I cannot write about authentic Australian food, what we dined was Thai, Italian food in relaxed, cosy and approachable setting. What would qualify as authentic was the cafe culture with their strong coffee game. Cafes we visited had influences from all over the world-French, Japanese, American but i guess what made them authentic was how well they fitted with the daily life of the local people-breakfast coffee or acai bowl, lazy big brunch and close shop around 4pm-local Beer time.

Moving on to the group tours, both Blue Mountain and Hunter valley seemed predominately touristy. I didn’t get a feeling like a lot of locals hit these spots. At Blue Mountains, all the tourist buses first stop at the vista point of Three Sisters range, and then head up to Scenic world for the different rides. There is a zoo visit and a ferry ride back as part of most tour packages.

Since we signed up for a smaller group tour, we were able to shrug the crowds and explore some of the ‘hidden-spots’ in the smaller bus. From all vantage points what you see is a glimpse of the infinite expanse of the mountain. Our tour guide gave us good information regarding the history, flora, fauna and typical way of life of people leaving in the area starting with Blue Mountain 101-The Blue Mountains is densely populated by oil bearing Eucalyptus trees. The atmosphere is filled with finely dispersed droplets of oil, which, in combination with dust particles and water vapour, scatter short-wave length rays of light which are predominantly blue in colour. 

I had seen flaky tall Eucalyptus trees back home, but here they were humongous. Also saw tea-tree shrubs for the first time, it is good Aussie fun to rub the British tourists for having ancestors who used this shrub to make an infusion to drink in place of tea!

A group tour is a microcosm of the general profile of the tourists visiting a place and there was an interesting dynamics that I noticed in our group of fellow tourists. The demographics was slightly skewed towards the age group who reminiscence about World WarII, especially the American and British tourists in our group who were happy to engage in animated discussions with the guide about the history. The other spectrum of people were those who you were rooted in one place but lived in another part of the world. Japanese working in China, Chinese kid raised in Netherlands studying English in Australia, Taiwanese learning Queens English in Britain(while unlearning his Hollywood English). It was a diverse set of people curious about property prices as we drove from the city to the suburbs!

And here I am back in Hong Kong on my way to work, and I chuckle to myself when i overhear another conversations about Sydney property prices.. its a small world.

Reading Short stories

I first came to appreciate short stories back in class 10. Both English and Hindi literature course curriculum had the most eclectic collection of short stories encompassing the varied literary styles and voices.

I came to understand the mood of the story when they opened with a ‘gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard’. I came to understand the ironic endings à la ‘sting in the tail’.  I came to see the generosity of our English teacher when she doled out dismal rock-bottom grades for our entire batch. She was this high priestess of literature and it was sheer joy to sit in her class and soak in all the metaphors and allegorical references. She is the only teacher who taught both me and my brother and after carefully comparing notes we conferred her with a title- take a bow 'Ninja warrior'!

Hindi literature was a different revelation- one could easily see the parallels between the plot/language/literary devices used by the writer and the people/society/times he was portraying. There is always a social context to writing and with Hindi writers there is a certain familiarity with the externalities of the story. You can really sit down and appreciate the details/perspectives that the writes chooses to bring to focus, the set pieces he picks.

Irrespective of the language, short stories have a technique. Poe’s golden dictum-a short story should be readable in a single sitting is a good starting point. The majority of stories that I read back in class 10 were tightly wound. O. Henry-‘The last leaf’, ‘The gift of the Magi’ instantaneously come to mind. They read like a fable, I can describe these stories during a dinner conversation in between tearing a piece of bread and using it to mop up the hearty soup.
There were other stories that left an indelible impression with their realism-the true life like portrayal of human nature and condition- Anton Chekhov, Premchand.
Some stories you remember for their characters, often the ones who stand out not for their virtues but for their all too understandable flaws. Stephen King stories/novellas are often tales of such twisted characters.

I am currently reading a collection of O. Henry Prize Stories 2013, and it is interesting to sample the work of different writers from a somewhat recent era. It’s a mixed bag so far, some to my taste and some that leave me cold. Also I have to confess that in most modern stories “nothing happens”, sometimes its just a mood or a dense psychological degustation palette. However I am keeping an open mind.

“The summer people” by Kelly Link was the one that I enjoyed reading the most. It’s the kind that you start reading and nothing else matters until you finish it- the mister waited for me to finish the story before we headed out for our morning hike. I guess I am a sucker for books with magic, (reliving my Harry Potter days) this one served a dollop and then some-magical realism.
George McCormick, “The Mexican” was short, had a beginning that I liked and an ending that I loved. Nalini Jones, “Tiger” felt endearing and realistic. “Where Do you Go” by Samar Fitzgerald had my rapt attention for a while. I thought I really understood the couple, especially the women she was writing about until a point.
I still have a couple more to read in this collection before I go a decade back in time and read another O. henry collection i picked from the library. Just the right way to spend a lazy December weekend!

Coincidentally while I'm stargazing the short story universe, little online birdie tells me that a short story just went viral(Cat person-The New Yorker). Its a slice of life which is eerily relatable(primarily women's perspective) and much like everything else in twitter-verse, its evoked sharp reactions..

Fading light

The setting sun can delineate outlines more clearly than the bright mid-day sun. When the dark shadows fills up the rest, one can clearly see the outer limits, the boundaries, and the personality without the distraction of the colors. It is a black silhouette laid bare against the fading orange of the day.

It was just a passing sight, the distant mountain peaks sharpened by the evening light. My eyes were transfixed at the outline for the little time that the moving bus afforded me the panorama. I pass by them every morning and evening on my way to work, but their lofty size and personality was a revelation to me. I was moved by the clarity of the view..

They call it ‘the last light’..
If you look closely, every beautiful sentiment is mirrored in arts, songs, poems, literature in some form already. The real joy is to experience it in its full force in a completely unsuspecting moment. It is a deeply personal experience, yet it qualifies as a shared experience not at a physical level but at a completely ‘ether level’-somewhere in your imagination.

This may be a good time to confess my love for the Readers Digest back in the 80’s. I can honestly say that it has been the reference point for a lot of ‘ether’ moments in my life. Back as a school kid I used to go to the town public library to pick up old Readers Digest editions and devour them under the winter sun. The warm anecdotes with gentle humor, personal stories of courage and fortitude particularly warmed my soul. But embarrassingly what stayed with me is a diary scribbled with quotes I found beautiful. Most of them expressed emotions that I had not personally experienced and wisdom which was much beyond my years but I felt a connection and the words stayed with me.

So once i reached home, i searched for my old tome and found these lines that i had once scribbled in my (once) shapely cursive slant and read them back again.

"By a departing light

We see acuter, quite,
Than by a wick that stays.
There's something in the flight
That clarifies the sight
And decks the rays"-Emily Dickinson.

Its a sense of the ending that makes the beginning and all that from there-so much more meaningful. Going along in the old routine, we get into a kind of acquiescent numbness. We need to be jolted out of our numbness. You must look at things not only as if you were seeing them for the first time but as if you were seeing them for the last time, as if you were never to see them again and had to take them all in and remember them for ever.

I find myself in this state of deep inertia where I hear myself talk about change but I am unable to move a muscle. And when i looked out of the bus window, i saw a metaphor for my own life- a wake up call before darkness. The darkness of my own disappointments.

I just hope to do better and see the light again.

Anecdotal blindside

When we judge ourselves using our anecdotal memory, it is a tricky business. It’s a biased jury looking at self-serving evidence, yet there are some moments of emotional honesty that can sneak past the defense.

I have character flaws that I quietly suspect and acknowledge, and I often hark back to seek validation or refutation from past memories. I am not sure that we are objectively capable of this endeavor-to summon untainted evidence from our repertoire and have a fair trial. At some level, I am aware that it is a futile business to psychoanalysis our actions and intentions in hindsight, perhaps even a risk of triggering a self-feeding loop which can effectively shield us from seeing the truth.

Yet I trust the ugly verdict with a healthy dose of distrust for the evidence.

May be it is just a coping mechanism, to move past the past while learning the ugly in me or it is just living in partial denial, I try not to go there.. We all have our blindside.

Triple J trip

Posting a quick note about the triple J trip: Jeju in June & July!
Historically, Jeju island(South Korea) has been called by many different names. I found this trinity reference interesting- Island of no three kinds, and many three kinds. It was the island of triple abundance-wind, stones & women... and over the years people created many different combinations.

WIND:
Truly free, truly fierce
Play-full, full of pride
Loud and lashing
Making twisters out of mist..
Flattening out the grasslands
Puffing up pink raincoats into balloon
Hey hey hold on a second you crazy wind, let me at-least fix my cap

Our attempt to summit Mt. Hallasan, was usurped by the grand theatre of rain, fog and wind. Caught flat-footed by the sudden change of weather, we waited almost one hour at the hike start point for the supplies store to open. Then decked in our flimsy pink and blue raincoats we made our way up. It was literally the most 'mistifying' experience-mist caught up between the tall trees threading all the spaces and boundaries. Needless to say, any attempts at photography was a moot point, so we diligently trudged along feeling the patter of the rain and the gusts of wind.

Slowly as the forested area cleared and we started the hike up the ridge, the wind truly came into form-pushing hard on one cheek, beating against the poor ear on the right. Holding the ropes along the wooden stairs for some reassurance-it was wild and a bit scary up there.

The terrain changed again, small trees, grasslands perfect habitat for the deers that live here. The mean misty curtain denied us any chance to see the summit or the views around. The Mountain spirit has many moods and it is at its most playful in the rains..The summit eluded us this time, but hopefully we will get another chance.
Route:Yeongsil trail on our way up and Eorimok trail on our way down.


STONES:

You get the picture.
Since the island was created by volcanic eruption, long long time ago, the black ash colored rocks are omnipresent taking different interesting art-forms. The coastal landscape is dotted with natural rock formations created by wind/water weathering over the years.
The island is dotted with figurines carved in porous Basalt(volcanic rock) called  Dol hareubangs. The statues' faces feature grinning expressions, bulging eyes without pupils, a long, broad nose, and slight smile.They are sold as tourist souvenirs everywhere, we got one as well

Along with the traditional, the quirky human vision is also at at play with the rocks and stones, creating montages for the selfie obsessed.

WOMEN: 

Haenyeo, the famed female free divers of this island earned their living and respect in the society with each dive into the depths of the waters. Diving 10-30 meters deep without oxygen mask(holding their breath for over three minutes), they gather shellfish and other species.

We frequently spotted bright yellow flippers and orange float bobbing in the dark waters. These women can be seen working and selling their fresh grilled catch in shacks by the beach. 

This economic self- reliance and social support system of the Haenyeo life is the foundation of a semi-matriarchal society in Jeju island.

The owner of the guesthouse where we stayed was another enterprising women. Single handedly she maintained the whole place and yet was fully attentive to the needs of the guests-exchanging pleasantries, arranging transport and recommending places to visit. Finding vegetarian food in Jeju was a difficult deal, so we cooked Maggi in her small pantry one day and the other time she offered us a bowl of puffed rice. She also introduced us to Makgeolli, a yummy alcoholic drink.

Overall the island is best enjoyed while driving around, stopping to admire the changing landscapes and taking in the fresh air. Seafood and contemporary museums(teddy bear, trick photography, love museums you name it that have it)are another big draw for families.

For us we had the Jeju mandarin oranges-the local hallabong variety and some halla chocolate(orange) to share with friends..

This beautiful place made a special place in my heart and became new home for my hat! (lost it somewhere after this picture)