Our Own Platform 9 and a half

Usually I credit my being of Indian (South Asian) origin, for attracting the attentions of holistically inclined folks, and thus being introduced to some new spiritual philosophy, book, health protocol or some other wisdom that stimulates, or fits right into my intellectual world.

Alternately, one could believe that we each have our own invisible antennae that pick up on people, who are prospective transmitters of such enlightening conversations. Usually, these explorations carry on well past pre-scheduled appointments, sometimes at the chagrin of our companions. Often, they delay us from arriving punctually to wherever we were headed. Such a sojourn as this is effortlessly carried out in the middle of a bustling restaurant, a grocery store, at an airport or on an airplane (happened to me on my last two flights) or just about anywhere we humans converge, or bide time waiting to converge.

It is like going into our own Platform 9 and half, to undertake that special portion of our life’s journey, which is destined to either impact us profusely, remain in our memory for a long time, or perhaps even change our course.

One such fellow traveller is Bill the Second, (more about Bill the First in a bit) who I met in our optometrist’s office.  We have had some illuminating, lively, absorbing, and enriching discussions since. On our last visit Bill the Second asked if I had read a particular book by Karen Armstrong. I was not familiar with her writing and had not heard of her, or the book. Once home I googled her immediately. The one thing to impact me instantly, was this quote from her:

“Discover what it is that gives you pain, and then refuse under any circumstances whatsoever to inflict that pain onto anybody else”

-Karen Armstrong.

I wrote it down immediately. Then rewrote it in a couple of other places, including on the back of one of my bookmarks, so I could read it periodically. Think about it. This one statement sums it up for me. It answers so many questions, and provides so many solutions. 

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Another sortie through our Platform 9 and half, led us to Bill the First. He was our neighbor in Sydney, Australia. The front door of his rental apartment was directly across from ours. The other three neighbors were owner-occupiers, but I doubt if anyone had ever socialized with each other, or even tarried to talk, until the advent of this Indian family’s arrival. That is what we Indians do, we converge on to a place, and effortlessly make everyone there our own. Or almost everyone, and in time their families, extended families and friends, become our friends too. 

While we did not make much foray into Bill the First’s family connections, beyond occasionally meeting with his two sons (he lived on his own), he certainly became an integral part of ours. It is interesting how that transpired. We actually knew of him, before we really knew him.

Mummy was visiting us from India, and as was her habit she went for long walks every morning. We lived close to a huge Park, alongside the Parramatta River. Mummy took two rounds of the Park, sometimes three. She would usually be gone for the better part of an hour. One weekend morning she was really late returning home. As usual her face was flushed, but today her eyes sparkled too.

Those who know her, know that my Mother is a whole other kettle of fish. Mummy is the most talented and most unique person I know. She is the Fountainhead of all of my intuitive and learned wholistic education. As I advance in the years, I notice her sanskars in my self, and even several of her traits, including her inherent trust in the goodness of people, which sometimes borders on gullibility.

In the early sixties, while going through a very rough patch in her life, my mother went on a ‘tea’ diet. It was necessitated more out of her untangling the complexities and hardship of personal crises than to lose weight, which she claimed to be the reason for her folly. As a result she messed up her appetite and digestion and says it was then that she became ‘allergic’ to medications. She was already allergic to fish, which caused urticarial break outs/ reactions to flare up. Too much tea now compromised her gut. Mummy has since not taken any chemical medications, not even an aspirin in her life. Not even a vitamin pill.

My mother switched to homeopathy and naturopathic intervention, whenever the need arose. Her focus on holistic therapies intensified, and she started to pay more attention to how her own mother used food as medicine. Some of it we was already implemented as a matter of family tradition, but now these culinary traditions were integrated into our lifestyle. More than culinary, it was also the massages, massage manipulations, rubs, poultices, herbal teas, etc.

After her retirement from government service, and as a daily practice, Mummy had created a regimen for herself - Sahaja Yoga based meditation, (to which she had been introduced by a dear, dear family friend from Bombay, Armaity,) acupressure and exercise. Then she fed the birds, whenever possible, watered her plants, and took one leaf each every morning, of homegrown basil and mint, and neem when available. Her first line of defense remains water therapy.

To get back to Mummy’s flushed face, sparkling eyes, and excited demeanor, we must revisit our Platform 9 and a half, and also pay homage to our ‘antennae’ that bring us life’s little and large joys in the guise of relationships, most fruitful, some not. Well, in this instance Mummy’s antennae, or perhaps Bill the First’s must have reverberated to bring these two souls to talk to each other, somehow, somewhere along the walking track in Meadowbank Park.

That day, she returned from her walk, exceptionally refreshed and rejuvenated. Good intentioned company will do that to you. She said she was delayed because they had stopped to talk, and she had continued on her walk after he left. She asked me if I knew a Bill, describing him to me. I did not.

Mummy excitedly recounted how they both discussed Dr. Ann Wigmore and the benefits of wheat grass, which in the 1990’s was not quite so fashionable. One had to wait for the boom of the Internet, the following decade’s favorite child, for the colossal revival of this and other holistic therapies. Bill the First knew a lot about wheat grass, and even Omega 3’s and enzymes and was using all of them, by way of foods. A chap, right up my mother’s alley. He later told us, that he had healed himself of his prostrate condition.

I can only imagine these two chatting away, like two sailors on an expedition to make new discoveries. Mummy would have told him about Sahaja Yoga and meditation, naturopathy, acupressure and water therapy. Mummy was always intrigued and extremely attentive whenever she met other people on journeys similar to her own. She could easily become quite voluble and animated in such discussion.

Mummy looked forward to her daily walks, because there were days when Mummy and Bill would meet again and with each meeting, renewed their acquaintanceship, and progressed in their exchange of views and news. I was very pleased for Mummy, because it provided her with the perfect mental stimulation on which she thrived. Even better that it happened at the start of her day. She was mostly home alone, until my son returned from school, as I was at work all day. Sometimes in the evenings we would go for a walk again, or I took her grocery shopping, but we never met this elusive Bill, which was surprising because if he walked here he obviously lived in the area, and we were a two street neighborhood.

Until one glorious September morning on a weekend, when she returned from her walk, I heard Mummy turn the key in our front door and call out to me, “Oh Veenu, Oh Veenu, hurry up, come here,” which remains her standard phrase to get my attention whenever she is excited about something. At the door stood my 72-year-old mother, as excited as a schoolgirl, with this white Aussie bloke, possibly a few years her senior, also grinning from ear to ear and smiling profusely in turns. A smile we would grow to love. This is how we first laid eyes on the, until then elusive Bill!  

That morning, they had finished their walk (Mummy walked longer) at the same time, and started to walk homewards together, probably too engrossed in the conversation to notice that they were walking in the same direction, and on the same side of the street.

I can only imagine their surprise, when they would have stopped at the entrance of the (same) building to say their Au Revoir. I’m sorry, but I just have laugh out loud here, as I imagine the incredulous look on both their faces! Was it shock, did they both laugh out loud as well, or did they both break into joyous smiles at the discovery that they lived in the same building. And then, on the same floor of the same building, and right across from each other!

So that is how Vimla met Bill, and how Bill the First came to be into our lives.

End of Episode 1. To be continued in coming installments of Our own Platform number 9 and a half.

Copyright© 2014 by Veenu Banga