Of monkeys and cold showers

Its been raining all night,in the hills the rain is like a symphony.One can almost hear a piece of music the rise and fall of raindrops on the roof.Its so loud on moment that one cant hear oneself and then it slows down and starts again.Even the tune is different.Its like a drumbeat at times,and then softens.Its mood changes.I listen to the downpour and wonder if we will wake up to flooded roads and with the music in my ears I fall asleep.

Its morning and the day dawns bright and warm with a promise of a beautiful day.As I get ready to face the day I am stoped dead in my tracks by a banging on the roof.Convinced that someone is hurling stones I wait for a reaction from someone but no on stirs.The noise continues and I wait hoping the roof doesn't cave in ,when I spot a family of monkeys.I think they have come for breakfast,an entire community of them chattering and jumping on the roof.I stay in till they leave and decide that a shower is in order and set anticipating a nice hot shower.Now this is the hills so patience is in order so I wait for the bone chilling cold water to turn warm.I have been told that hot showers are available.After a few minutes I give up and decide that this is just not my day.I extend one arm under the shower,then another,then a leg and by now I have turned numb and my body is turning blue but having come this far I may as well decide to finish.After numbness there is no pain,no feeling so I stand under the shower feeling not the cold pinpricks or the soap or anything for that matter.Finally I come out feeling rather heroic after all its not everyone who can take an ice cold shower in a cold hill station and live to tell the tale.The husband of course is the clever one,he checks the temperature of the water before he ventures out and is a safe man.....well but as I am in search of new experiences I mustn't complain.....of course after that experience I venture bravely into the cool with a cotton top and no sweater.I am ready to face the world.

Nightfall in the hills

Sleepless as always I have managed to find a book,a bottle of water and some magazines to keep me going.Its the night of our first day in the hills and I am yet to digest that rather large lunch and to get used to altitude.Feeling bloated I convince the husband that a long walk might kick start the metabolism and he agrees,though he is facing no problems with his body which seems to be listening to him unlike mine.We set off in sweater and caps to the road that will lead us to town.Its now cold but a nice cold and we take a stroll down hill which is rather easy.The husband walks while I roll after him at a steady pace.Having reached the end we need to climb back and I am determined to teach my body a lesson in discipline.We make it in good time,are greeted with yet another cup of tea and call it a day.The electric blanket is on and the husband is curled up and asleep by the time I finish my gossip session with my sister.Suddenly I am not feeling so cold anymore and as night falls here I am with a nice book,many copies of magazines and peace and quiet....the end of a rather long day that started in Madras

ooty day 1

Our flight lands in Coimbatore and we have left cyclone laila far behind and the warm temperature greets us.Flying a low cost airline means that hunger is never very far away the moment we recline into the comfort of the Ambassador car (we have forgotten what this car feels like thanks to having used the more modern ones that are in the market now),we hunt out an eating place.Fussy as we have become we look for a place where we cant go very wrong with the food and after a lunch that makes us feel like beached wales we climb back into the car and set off on our journey to the hills.The food and the warmth makes us drowsy and we promptly fall asleep until the airconditioning is switched off.We wake up to a landscape that has changed.Barren fields have given way to high trees and lush green,the air is dense with the fragrance of flowers and other things that hit our unfamiliar noses.The temperature drops at a steady pace and the hills roll by with the fresh cool air hitting our faces and lifting our spirits.Our journey upwards is fought with some city like traffic jams but we climb steadily.Three hours later we have reached the queen of hill stations who is fast on the way to becoming a pauper at the rate at which construction and deforestation is striping the landscape of its beauty but as out of towners we have no complaints.Its now cool almost bordering on cold and we soak it in and are glad to have reached the hills.The climb up to the house is another matter altogether.Two years of constant working out is nothing compared to a hill climb in high altitude.My heart protests,my knees cry fowl but I soldier on knowing that a hot cup of tea awaits.....not disappointed the tea is fantastic,it burst in the mouth with the flavour of fresh tea gardens,mountain springs and the promise of more

Vacations

holidays are not something we plan,not even the international ones.We decide on a whim to go and then work the logistics around it.When the heat of madras got too much we decided to go to Ooty,queen of the hills in our part of the world.After checking with nephews and nieces if they were free to keep my mother company (she refuses to step out of the house) and after checking with my sister if she was free to entertain us,we booked our tickets and waited happily for the day of departure.The heat continued to rise unabated and as we stayed drenched in sweat we counted the days to Ooty and coolness.On the day before departure,the weather changed.It was muggy and hot with a hint of rain and we wondered if the weather gods were to cheat us once again (the heat always travels with us).As the day progressed a cyclonic storm loomed large over the city and by the evening gusty winds howled through the house and the rain poured.The temperature dropped and a coolness set in.As we were ready to beat the heat we were beaten to it.Now we faced the prospect of missing lovely weather in our own city and the possibility that rain would delay our flight and the roads would flood and the car wouldn't take us to the airport.We had a serious fight about packing,the husband with his pucca ways and me with my habit of throwing things into the bag,this was not a nice situation.After an hour of joint yelling at each other we decided to cancel the trip.Half an hour later we had decided otherwise.The trip seems to be doomed from the start.The normal meticulous husband didn't charge his phone and had given only his number to the taxi people.There was no way they could contact us.The electricity failed and we were plunged into darkness and no sign of light in the morning.By this time desperate me was praying that everything would sort itself out as by now with one disaster following in the others wake,I was convinced that the plane would crash and we would be dead.....well god answered prayers and all was well.The aircraft took off and with a bit of turbulence we made our way out of the storm and towards the hills.First hurdle crossed

Lifes lessons learned

Everyday is a lesson learned.Having high expectations of life can be a good thing but it also means that one has to be clear about these expectations.If it involves people then its best to figure out who these people are and what to expect from them.With the family unit becoming smaller and smaller one realises that the family unlike in previous times,is not something one can depend on in a crisis.I have over the years had to deal with every crisis on my own and if it wasn't for friends who rallied around,helped out and allowed me to vent distress and frustration then where would I be.Asking for help is not something that comes easily to me simply because I have realised that a lot of people who offer help actually offer lip service when it comes to the real thing.Sometimes it angers me but at other times I ignore it keeping in mind that one more lesson has been learnt,whom to depend on.

Over the years our circle of friends have become smaller but all of us have learnt that unlike our parents we need to deal with loneliness,disease and depression on our own.We need to be able to handle every crisis on our own and all of us have in many ways started working towards it.Saving money planning our financials,discussing our wills,its always there at the back of our minds.Ours is the last generation of generosity,of giving without expecting and of being bound by duty and love.As India becomes younger and more affluent we will go through that phase when all that matters is self,when everyone is using everyone else to get at ones own ends.Its a depressing thought but a lesson learned.Yesterday when a lot of friends met up after many years under not the happiest of circumstances,we all realised how we help each other in out own ways,mine is to cook and feed,someone else is to comfort and be around and none of us overlap on our helplines,we work in perfect harmony,picking up where we left off,and as I looked over then I realised that family is really not so much about bloodlines but of compatibility and friends.This is my family,these are the people who are closest,the ones we discuss things with the ones who know a lot about us but wont judge us too much.Yes we have our differences but despite all that,we are there when needed most.

Helpless in the mango season

Sometimes the American way seems to be the only solution.Most Americans can sue for the silliest of reasons and in India on the other hand I cant sue anyone for anything and if i did I can think of paying a lawyer for years to come and be sure that other than burn a hole in my bank account,nothing much will come of it.

Take for instance today,a sleepy Sunday afternoon and the roads are empty and the sun blazes down in unrelenting heat.The neighbour has striped his mango tree of all its fruit save the branches that are too high.Now the only thing left are a bunch of tempting mangoes hanging from the high branches.We are just about thinking of having a cat nap when a loud noise accompanied by shattering glass tells us the all too familiar story.The local boys are out in large numbers,armed with stones to knock down the mangoes.Unfortunately aim is not one of their strong points so instead of getting the mango they get our window pane.This is a yearly summer occurrence.We rush out but are too late for the nimble limbed urchins,the neighbour is apologetic but cant do much.All it ensures is that we have a new and unexpected financial problem to deal with.We also know that its best to live with a broken window pane until the season is over or the boys will be back at it.

Now we talk about it but cant do a thing,we cant sue our neighbour or the street urchins,we cant sue the police for not keeping guard and we grin and bear it.We tell ourselves that we are lucky it wasn't the car that was damaged and send up a silent prayer that the boys don't get it next time.This is India and we learn to cope,swallow out anger,deal with our helplessness and try and count our blessings.This is the only way to survive this country