Hovering between 102 and 101.4, 3, 2. Hope tomorrow is better. Rasping cough, dry mouth, headache, eyes hurt, ears hurt.
Dear blog, I’m sure you understand.
Couldn’t attend Susan’s party. Sent her card and gift next door. Hope she has an amazing time!
Veenu Banga
2/21/2024
7:52 pm.
Have no energy to chat. I am very, very, very unwell. Maybe tomorrow? Maybe not. Probably will have to miss Susan’s 85th birthday party.
Can barely sit up, been asleep, and just knock off even when I’m sitting on a chair. Terrible cough and phlegm. Succumbed and took an aspirin. Did not help. Now a half Tylenol. Heater running, hot water bottle, and hopefully a comforting warm bed, and sweet slumber.
See, despite the discomfort (putting it mildly) I still showed up to write.
Veenu Banga
12/20/2024
10:27 pm.
Proud of myself for keeping the writing everyday in December streak going. However, it only 8:43 and I'm ready for bed. Had errands and also still not fully with it.
Saw Dr. Lisa, stopped by Chamberlains to stock up on supplies, and had a good chat with the lovely Karen and Elizabeth. Missed seeing Morgan and the others. Will do so eventually. Ordered the Brown Cow yogurt. Had picked up one from Sprouts and than goodness some good things do not change.
Feeling cold, have heating on. It's different here. Have gotten accustomed to the cold there, it's the dreary grey skies that are disappointing. Thank God for a warm bed, roof over our heads and food on the table.
Traffic is crazy, with Christmas approaching, and add two that the school hours and Wekiva Springs road was a crawling parade of cars.
Came home to my sycamore tree bare, with its crisp brown leaves hugging the front of the house. At the side, a freak gift from Nature- 5 mulberries on a low branch going off on a tangent. Very sweet ones too.
That's it, Mr. Blog. As we've discussed, no names. Don't want even the hint of attachment, and a name would do that. So it's O&O for now.
Tomorrow is a new day. Weekend supposed to be colder, so no beach. Maybe Temple for dosa? Maybe not. Possibly not tomorrow, or who knows? Miss the ready made dosa batter from Arihant. Oh well!
Pesarattu at Woodlands calls, or maybe I'll make UPMA at home. Have coconut shavings in the freezer. On that delicious note, really a final O&O! Goodnight Blog!
Veenu Banga
12/19/2024.
8:56 pm
But not for long.
Despite the days being shorter, I’ve been having really long days. Surprisingly, but also not. There’s always so much to do. Yet, what one really wants to do never gets done.
I suppose one says, some day I will get the time to get it done, except that tomorrow is elusive. Might as well call it an early night and help to tomorrow be even more productive that today.
Hope eternal!
Veenu Banga
12/19/2024
9:23 pm.
Mostly.
Susan came in the mid afternoon, and she is such a joy.
Then went to Trader Joe's and did groceries. Fruits and veggies. Got two bags of salad, finished a third of the Arugula bag. Such a relief to be able to eat salad- hard to enjoy in the cold.
Had fabulous Italian dinner at home. As always, K cooks Italian to perfection. Had got artichokes, kalamata olives and capers, besides other things. Added capers to the pasta, olives on loaded with veges and artichokes pizza. Finished almost a whole avocado.
Morning was a bit off and on, was thinking about Alan Turing and the hostility, hatred and discrimination he faced. it was very disturbing. it seems there's a movie based on his life, and want to see that. very curious about who the people were who persecuted him- did they see themselves in him?
Often that is the case, that is people think of others as they themselves are. but this was different, and it was unjust, morally corrupt, self entitled folks who thought they were the law, keepers of the Faith and of morality, with castrated minds- castrated by dogma and disgusting in their attitudes towards a fellow human. Not an ordinary person, mind, but someone of a far greater caliber. Maybe that was the problem. What better way to elevate their own stature, than to destroy the comparison they couldn't shine a light to.
Such is the way of life. If only before casting stones, they had looked at his accomplishments, and considered recognizing him for that body of work.
As Indians, to us it should as no surprise. They ruled over the subcontinent for almost three years, leaving it as mess, with no remorse suffered.
People are good or bad, period. Measured by their actions. If someone is good natured, that's their behavior with everyone, not selectively. That is what is mostly overlooked, and we judge others by they the way they treat us. Not by the way they treat another person- and that is to 'their' advantage. At the end of the day, most people are selfish, and that is the crux of the matter.
One should try to rise above that. That is the way to live a life of excellence.
Veenu Banga
12/17/2024
10:34 pm.
Fortunately had written on the plane, in my notes folder on the phone, so as to have something to post tonight. Ended up going on a tangent(s) and became too long. But, hey..at least it’s spontaneous, and I’m not so secretly pleased that the spontaneity is coming back, along with the being true to myself. I think that’s how I write. Not when I’m cautious that some one will read it, and get to know how I feel about issues. Not that it matters to me, or that it should matter to anyone.
Ganesh picked us up from the airport. Came home, shower and then off to Chipotle which is sorely missed there. Then to Sprouts, which is also nearby for milk, yogurt, verges, fruits, and onions and potatoes, till I can get to Trader Joe’s.
Came back to find a Poinsettia plant in my porch. So Susan has fulfilled the annual tradition of bringing me a poinsettia every holiday season. Called Susan and chatted a bit, so excited about her upcoming birthday party! She’s coming over tomorrow.
Then pottered about a bit and now off to bed. Had stuff going on in my mind which I was going to include in my blog, but one thing is the sticker shock of groceries here, vs the UK! More on that later.
Good thing did not catch a shuteye in flight, can now sleep and hopefully start the day.
Veenu Banga
12/16/ 2024.
9:27 pm
~~~~~~
Amazing Grace!
Started off with me very restless and just unhappy for no reason. Was that way till afternoon. Then picked up. Met an American man from NYC, lawyer living in London. His kids go to school here, maybe it’s just this one son. His child does theater, which is amazing, as we don’t have enough patrons for the performing arts. He and I agreed that a school uniform is very important. For reasons beyond the obvious.
Across from us sat a lovely couple who had plans to watch Sir Paul McCartney in a live concert. Yes, the one- of the Beatles fame. The husband was into theatre and it’s so interesting to find out about new ideas in theatre. They told us about an immersive experience that is put in at The Bridge theater, where the stage moves, and other interactions with the audience. Hard to imagine, but I do know K and A would love it.
In the early days when I was living between Florida and Sydney, I remember missing the cultural vibrancy of Sydney in Orlando. K was a devout patron and bought seasons tickets to opera and ballet, for the love of the arts, but also because the value of Grants that are issued by the Australian government to the Arts societies is commensurate with the subscriptions they have. Opera in Sydney was truly spectacular and one dressed up for the shows.
At that time, we saw an announcement for Figaro- to be performed at the Dr Phillips Center of the performing arts. What a shock when we went to the ‘Theatre!’ It was a small white building at the end of Magnolia Avenue, by the railway tracks. Today that’s right next to an exit for Interstate-4. That’s not the point. We actually sat in folding chairs! Seriously. The kind that are hired out for open air functions and move around freely, where your knees are way out of the seat, and your things don’t get full support. I couldn’t believe that was the ‘theater’ where Orlando hosts Opera. However, the performance was first rate. We fortunately sat in the first or second row, so had a clear view and enjoyed the Aria, with very expressive faces, the vocals conniving with the expressive faces to captivate all our senses.
The other theater was the Mad Cow theater. We saw several plays there. It’s now moved to a better location and a nicer home. It’s a labor of love on the part of the owners - a woman at least back then.
To get back to Dr Phillips, it’s now in a grand building and I’ve been only once, maybe twice, can’t recall. Andrea Bocelli maybe? I’ve been wanting to see Shen Yum there but whenever they’re in town, I’m away.
The one time I changed my travel plans to go and see a live performance in Tampa, of my very favorite sacred secret Great, the show on July 7th of that year was cancelled, as Panditji passed away of Covid in New Jersey. I had non idea he was in the USA!
Similarly, Perry Como “For the good times,” passed away in a Florida facility and I had no idea he was living in Florida.
I did see a Kenny Rogers show in some arena in Kissimmee. Of course he’s awesome- I love so many of his songs. Especially the duets. I think he had had knee surgery, or maybe he just was bow legged? Had a young wife and son with him, small child. He’s much much older than me. Hope he’s found happiness with this wife. This was a long time ago, maybe 10-12 years.
Had the best dinner at The Laureate, at the Hyatt Regency in Manchester. They had a Manchester United game, besides Sir Paul McCartney in concert so traffic was crazy. Despite limited vegetarian options, I did well with the salad and grilled vegetables. Hiba from downstairs remembered me from last time. It’s such a lovely feeling- sometimes I feel I’m getting my spark back. We had a great conversation. This is one of the nicer hotels- over Hyatt’s too. I think I’m starting to like them much more that the Hilton properties. Except the Conrad where we stayed in Singapore twice. That’s the most awesome hotel. They have fresh juices at breakfast and the lovely staff remembered my preferences.
This Hyatt has a fabulous breakfast too. Unbelievable. Truly. Spectacular choices. Coukd elaborate, but want to call it a night.
That’s it!!
Veenu Banga
9:49 pm
December 15, 2024.
What a day! In how I felt, from morning to noon, to evening and night.
Started off well enough, Being a Saturday we went to the Markets. Picked up extra bread from the bakery, as always our first stop, since they run out of Granary and the Sourdough. Since we were pretty early, the line out the door was also shorter and they were well stocked. Asked the lady if I could bring back our sourdough for her, if she would like to try it. She was pleased and smiled, "If you like," "Sure'" I replied.
Then around the corner to the markets, and I went to the card shop, while A went to the super large (for the size of our town) Produce stall. And yes, upon being asked, they were told I had gone to the card shop. It's nice that I'm missed and the green grocers ask for me if they don't see me. I miss them too. They have the freshest produce- fruits and veggies and frequently herbs. That is my favorite part of our Saturday mornings.
There were trucks- setting up shops for the Christmas markets. It seems they had a lantern parade and other activities planned mostly between 9:00 to 4:30 pm? However, our day was cut out with last minute to do items we were committed to, and couldn't go.
On the way to the Town Center, at one of the roundabouts, the car next to ours was out of her lane, and precariously close to us. It brought to mind my own roundabout adventure about 12 years ago.
But before that, how I ended up driving in Brussels and adjoining countries is a story of guile, and (annoyance on my part) that now makes me smile. I had flown in that morning and was told I had to keep awake, for my circadian rhythm to adjust to the local time.
After lunch, the three of us headed down to the car, to go somewhere far away, as in a fair distance, perhaps a 30 minute drive away? Anyway, A thrust the keys in my hand, and got into the passenger seat. They drive on the right there too. "What is this?" I asked incredulously. "The keys, you're driving, hurry up, we're getting late."
"I'm not driving," I was rightfully very upset.
"Well, what do you want me to do?" was the reply. And two good excuses which I will not elaborate on and I was driving. My first BMW, which by the way is the nicest car I've driven. So that was that, straight into the deep end, and the first of my many car journeys.
The roundabout story is also quite funny on hindsight, but was then quite infuriating. It happened when I was alone in the car, and had to navigate one of Brussels' most difficult roundabouts. It has 5 lanes. I kid you not. Being used to roundabouts in Sydney, (though not 5 lanes!!) I entered it with an easy confidence. However, the notorious Belgian drivers definitely have no patience, and an abundance of aggression. I missed my exit the first time, despite indicating, but No, no one wanted me to merge in the next lane, let alone exit. Second round, third round and my speed slowed and my exasperation increased. I have no idea how I finally made it out of the round, round, Round -a bout! But I eventually did. Possibly in the third attempt, but a little drama makes for good rumination and reading.
By afternoon, we were busy, and I was also getting a little antsy, for no apparent reason. That turned to restlessness, which turned to sadness and I wanted to cry. Did not, maybe did, only a little, very little. Then off we we went for our errands. I slept in the car, all the way, and was surprised we arrived so quickly, after a 25-30 minute drive. I think to see the trees look so desolate makes me sad. If only I could even just see the budding at the tips, I could take comfort in knowing that the leaves will soon cover the branches.
By the time we got home, I was fine. Then, after dinner, I listened to Master Lin, and that cheered me up. I remembered the first time I met him was on a retreat in Amsterdam, or Volendam to be precise, for a Soul Purpose workshop. On the third day we concluded that the purpose of our souls is to be happy. When I remember that, I feel comforted. I wish, I could never forget that, and always remember, that my life's purpose should be or IS, to BE Happy. The other thing to remember is that I keep good company if I want to live a life of excellence. Which I do, and which I keep reminding myself. I'm proud to now be discerning, and realize it's not unkind or ignoble to suffer the riff-raff, who have no interest in honest friendships/ relationships. Even on You Tube, especially on You Tube, I need to keep good company.
Wide open parking spaces in the US, large carparks, have caused me to forget parallel parking and I take my time to swing back into reverse parking. John, who taught me how to parallel park in Sydney (compulsory to pass the driving test otherwise no drivers license!) made it so easy. I could do it in the first shot.
Now, I am not even willing to try. Haven't been driving here, easy to say I've done too much already, plus it's on the other side of the road, and three and four lanes of the roundabouts are most discouraging.
As they say, never say never, so who knows, maybe I will get behind the wheel in the good old Country!
Veenu Banga
12/14-15/2024
12:45 am.
To succumb to sleep, and not lose the continuity streak of one’s resolve to write their blog every day for a month!
Yes? I think so too.
Veenu Banga
12/13/2024
11:22 pm.
PS. Last full moon of the year this weekend!
About?
This morning as we drove for my appointment in Bilton, I resolved to write my blog earlier in the day. Made a mental note and started, had the title and now, it's all gone as the day drew me into its demands. Doesn't help with the weather, which makes one hungry. Plus the kettle calls and I enjoy my tea.
So there goes the day. Though to be honest, I did slack off and went down the You Tube rabbit hole. The music list was nice, but trying to find something else for some intellectual stimulation was a total bust and waste of time. I know I should have been writing, finishing up pending work, completing what is crying out for attention. I think the subconscious mind knows. Three more sleeps and lots to do.
And yes, the anxiety is valid. I suppose one can help by going to bed at a decent hour, grateful for the inviting warmth of my bedroom. So keeping it short, with a promise to do better tomorrow, and no You Tube. I was better off breaking up with it.
Oh, yes, I saw two green Eddie Stobart trucks yesterday, and one white one. They're changing attire. It was nice and remembering my old excitement made me smile.
To the morning, cheers and may it be a wonderful day!
Veenu Banga
12/12/2024.
10:49 pm.
We had just joined the M1, when my glance fell on the clock on the car's dashboard. It was 14:07, and outside it was night. It was pitch dark. The sun had already set, and the moon wasn't up yet. There wasn't a trace of light in the sky, but the motorway was well lit.
I was suddenly overtaken with a sense of deja vu. My mind went back to the first 23 years of my life in New Delhi. We had all the four seasons. Winters meant dry skin and getting into bed early, with a heavy quilt, and sometimes with a second layer of blankets. I still have my mother's black 100% pure wool Raymonds blankets.
Winter was also adding ghee to hot dal. Winter was having to wear my woolen uniform gray skirt to school and get chaffing on my thighs, on already dry skin, exacerbated by the dry winters of Delhi.
Winter did have its rewards too. Sitting in our expansive South facing verandah, the sun's kisses warm on my skin, as it traversed from right to left, lulling me into an easy submission of its warm embrace. As it headed west, the sky ablaze with red, the sun went home. And I shut the windows and drew the curtains on the verandah's balcony.
The winter vegetables were quite a treat. Crisp cauliflower, long white radishes, all the greens, and of course carrots and peas. Time for gajar halwa, stuffed parathas, eaten hot with chunks of butter. Sabat urad dal or kali dal, with a dollop of ghee melting gently and quickly, to be eaten with chapattis, also generously slathered with ghee.
My one big memory is of the winter of 1972. Delhi hosted its first Trade Fair called Asia 72, inaugurated by Mrs Indira Gandhi on November 3rd. It lasted a month. However the Exhibition was so popular that it was extended for an additional month. It was a very big deal for India, and people came from out of state to visit.
~~~
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hall_of_Nations
The Hall of Nations was an iconic exhibition hall inaugurated in 1972 as part of the Pragati Maidan complex in New Delhi, India. It was built to commemorate 25 years of Indian independence.[1]
Inaugurated by then-Prime Minister Indira Gandhi for the India International Trade Fair called Asia 72, it was the world’s first and, at the time, the largest-span space-frame structure built in reinforced concrete.
~~~
The International Trade Fair sprawled across a very vast area and today boasts its over "123.5 acres provides 100,000 sq meters of exhibition space with a planned capacity of 13,500 people."
Every state in India was represented by its own Pavilion. Then there were several International Pavilion's as well. All the pavilions showcased the Industries and other Initiatives of their State.
I was a first year MA student and it was the in thing to be working there. Jobs has been advertised in papers and the money was so good that it was not easy to get into the better paying pavilions. I had thought about it, but ended up not applying, because University was still in session in November.
As luck would have it however, my father knew someone who was representing Bharat TV, (I think the first TV to be made in India,) by the Hindustan Aeronautical Industries (HAL) and they asked if I would host the stall in the Andra Pradesh Pavilion.
Since there were others from Pandara Road working there, my mother reluctantly agreed, because we could come home together after it closed at 9:00 pm, which is an unearthly hour in the Delhi winters.
That is how I found myself working alongside a bunch of lovely people, some of whom I remained in touch even after my children were born. Two of them became good friends. One was Mr. Santokh Singh, an AP Forest Officer, who treated me as his daughter and looked out for me, especially when any of the young men visitors hung around me for too long and asked too many questions about Bharat TV. He was good friends with a shy young man whose name I forget, who was there with Hyderabad Allwyn, a white goods company, then known primarily for their Refrigerators. The second person was Ashok Kumar who was a law student at Allahabad University, and was working for Coromandel Fertilizers. When Ashok left after the Asia 72 ended, Coromandel decided to stay on, and I took over his position. Coromandel paid very well.
However, the best pay in the AP Pavilion was at the ITC stall- rather a large area. They had hired the 1971 Miss India, Raj Gill to showcase their Company. Her job was to just sit in an ornate throne like chair, on a 'stage' like enclosure which had fancy cords around it. So she just sat in the center of the stall and look pretty, not talk to anyone. The ITC Boss was Marcel Parker and he frequently chatted with us. Marcel was also related to my mum's friend Miss Keskar. He was a pleasant personality, with sauce looks and always dressed in suits like a true upper management professional. Raj Gill played the ice maiden and I don't recall hearing her voice. I think that was what she was paid for! To sit pretty.
Ashok and I sometimes went to eat dosa at a restaurant in the fair grounds. It was a fancy place, and we ate our dosas with a fork and knife. It was a real treat for me, as I wasn't used to eating out. I still enjoy eating a dosa with a fork and knife when possible, and spoon to slurp the sambar. It reminds me of my Asia 72 days.
The duration of the two months of working at the Asia 72 was a very productive time for me. I used to leave the house just before 8:00 am to catch the 8:15 university special. Breakfast was a very big bowl of thin Sooji kheer, more milk that sooji- which my mum prepared for me with so much love, that it kept me satiated for a very long time.
From University, I went straight to Pragati Maidan, the venue of the ASIA 72 fair, to be in time for the 2:00 pm opening hours. Quite often, my next meal was when I arrived home late at night, around 10:00 pm, and Mummy would make me hot chapatis with whatever sabzi there was, and my favorite kali daal, (today popularized as dal makhani) and she would heat it on our gas stove in a small pan, and break an egg into it, which would cook in the dal. That how I liked it. It was a very hearty meal. Then next morning it started all over again, and I loved it! I loved that I was working.
Other happy winter memories are of Canberra. It gets colder than Sydney, and on some mornings we had to scrape the iced windshield of the cars. I used to drop my daughter to work, so I could have the car during the day. Then I would go and pick her up in the evenings, often having to wait while she finished her work if something came up unexpectedly.
Another happy memory is sitting around a bon fire in Lorese's house in Canberra. The Southern hemisphere winters are mid-year! More Canberra- going to Two Sisters Asian restaurant, where I first tasted Laksa, a flavorsome Malaysian noodle dish.
Winters are not without their magic. In Delhi that is when the Mughal Gardens at Rashtrapati Bhavan are open to the public. They are a riot of colors and manicured lawns and flowers beds. Many kinds of pansies and snap dragons and hollyhock. Besides roses of course, and all the other winter flowers.
India's Republic Day is celebrated for a whole week of ceremonies and fanfare, with the Parade on the 26th kicking off the celebrations. We went as children, and sat in the V1 block, as my mother was always in charge of the VIP section. She was working in the ceremonial section and had actively planned the very first celebrations which started in 1950. Every year after that, during the month of January, she returned to the Ceremonial section to organize the VIP seating plan and take charge of the VIP section, where the Prime Minister and other high ranking officials, politicians, Military commanders, and Chief Justices also sat with their families.
The Parade was followed by the Folk Dances with dancers coming from every state of India. These were held at the National Stadium. All this was within walking distance of Pandara Road, and in those days longer walking distances were normal.
The Grand Finale was the Beating of the Retreat, was held in the evening at Vijay Chowk, with the backdrop of the Rashtrapati Bhavan; the road leading to it flanked by the Secretariat buildings of the North and South Block.
It was a spectacular show of the Bands beating the Retreat, marching up and down, as different regiments regaled and flaunted the skilled mastery of their bands. The drums and bagpipes were very popular. The Conductor of one of the Bands, I forget which, I think the Sikh Regiment probably, threw his baton in the air, and caught it again neatly as it somersaulted back into his strong hands.
Then just as the sun started to set, the band played Mahatma Gandhi's favorite hym Abide With Me. The bells chimed from afar in the 'Chatris' of the North and South Block, followed by the bugles. The flag was lowered and the ceremony closed with the bands retreating to Saare Jahan se accha Hindustan tamara.
The patriotism in those moments elevates one to a whole different level. I was always inspired by these ceremonies, and wrote poems for the Sainik Samachar. My poem about the Amar Jawan Jyoti was published in the center spread, and when I look at those copies now, it seems a very long time ago, yet not, but definitely a distance is felt, and its not a happy realization. It was a different time.
I found a 2024 recording on You Tube (https://www.youtube.com/live/QJoBYNeERCI?si=c_e3PJJMpb1rEsYM) and a lot has changed. The moment of surprise and pride was to see the inclusion of women, masterfully playing the drums. Very impressive and a moment of immense joy and pride to see this face of India.
While writing this I realized, that I was born just six years after Independence. For such a young country we were doing pretty well. My grandfather who came from Lahore with the clothes on his back was already well established and they were publishing again, had a printing press in Connaught Circle, house on Babar Road, and a big Chevrolet family car. India can indeed become an even better country if we learn to treat our women with respect, and get rid of corruption which thwarts progress.
We continued our long drive to meet up with friends at a Korean restaurant. My reverie was broken when I realized I had fallen silent, and the silence was disquieting. So I just thanked God for the heat in the car, the warm seats and for providing safe passage as we criss crossed across oceans and found homes away from home.
Veenu Banga
12/11-12/2024.
1:44 am!
Goodness me, I did not expect it to be so late. What can I expect, when I type with one finger!
Yep, irony indeed. Sorry, inside joke. Considering today's date.
This morning one of my favorite quotes came up:
“Look into your own heart, discover what it is that gives you pain and then refuse, under any circumstance whatsoever, to inflict that pain on anybody else.”-Karen Armstrong
Then one thing led to another and I thought I'd read up a few of my favorite lines again, just for the experience of gladness to my heart, and to bring a smile to my face.
The first one I thought of was Sara Teasdale's "The Look." If anything can make you smile, that will.
The second honor went to Nikita Gill's "93 Percent." What's not to love about that observation?
The next poem actually was an accidental discovery, and sharply moving nonetheless. It resonated with me deeply and aroused latent emotions, that had been stuck inside my throat. It inspired me to acknowledge and vent those thoughts. That poem is "Bluebird" by Charles Bukowski.
The last lines for the day have stayed with me for a very long time. It is actually a stanza from Lord Alfred Tennyson's "In Memoriam," an elegy he wrote for his very young friend Arthur Henry Hallam.
Those lines are:
"We have but faith: we cannot know;
For knowledge is of things we see
And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow."
They gripped me and diffused through me, as I remembered these lines again today. These words were introduced to me when recited by my Grandfather, for his 20 year old granddaughter, who had just suffered her first nervous breakdown.
I still remember his grey eyes as he spoke to her, tinged with sadness, and tightly withholding the salt stinging his eyes, and which dared not take liquid form, lest it betray the injury to his heart. The recollection of these lines evokes the memories of those days; long walks, with his arm on her shoulder, walking the same course they walked in happier times. The same eyes that sparkled with radiance and crinkled with joy, when he would read out parts of a story he was telling us, his grandchildren, or when he recited something which he felt compelled to share.
These lines have stayed with me for a very long time. They also took me a long time to truly understand, as I do now. I gradually became aware of the simple but profound truth in these four lines. It was a wonderful way of comforting and invoking Faith in his grandchild. This, from a man who never went to a temple or gurdwara, but whose religion was his Karma, which was demonstrated daily in his way of life, of non-judgmental love, and charity towards the needy.
The next stanza elaborates further:
"Let knowledge grow from more to more
But more of reverence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,"
Clearly we have the knowledge and humans are always striving to seek more and more wisdom, which they think is a product of knowledge. However, the poet makes a case for Reverence, of which we need more and more. A nod to God in all his ways, for all our days.
In reverence is where we need to "dwell,' so that our mind and soul can surrender to what is inherent in us, "We have but FAITH," which is constant in our consciousness, just not prevalent as "knowledge (which) is of things we see." That "Faith (is) a beam in (the) darkness" that has overtaken our life, and we should "let it (the beam) grow" wider. We are being guided to surrender to that Faith.
In the next stanza, Tennyson brings up reverence, which cannot be, in my mind- something without humility. Reverence and surrender bring equanimity to "mind and soul" so our being "May make music as one (in unison, as) before."
"As before," as we were before we were thrust into the "darkness" and the peril, aggrieved by circumstances, when mind and soul are dispirited and shaken. Separated. We now are invoking our inner strengths of Faith and Reverence, for Solace, which cannot come from Knowledge. Because "knowledge is of things we see," and not of the unforeseen and unexpected. To that, only petition speaks, as prayer- to that which dwells in us as Faith. The focus should be on that "beam" of light, of hope, and that is the way forward through that which is not, can never be, plain knowledge alone.
In other words, my grandfather was telling his granddaughter, that someday all will be well, that this too shall pass, and that she just needs to keep the Faith.
I think she gets it.
Veenu Banga
12/10-11/2024
12:05 am
It’s one of those TV serials that warm one’s heart. Had seen the first three seasons, and wasn’t aware two more are out. Finished Season 4 yesterday. Started to watch Season 5 today, and it’s Grand Finale will be telecast on the 25th, when we will be home. Not sure it will be available in the US. Going to try to finish as much as possible this week.
Shot in the Yorkshire Dales, its breathtaking scenery is a treat for the eyes. I’m reminded of my first trip to Yorkshire in the winter of 1978. We went with Margaret and Eddie to the house of Margaret’s Auntie Bessie. Forgetting the name of the village, but she did not have running water, and we used a jug of water in her basin. Her toilet was outdoors.
Tough country folk who never complain, and live by adapting to the seasons. Plus they grow and preserve their own food. The Allotment culture of this country is one of its finer traditions.We went to the village pond to feed the ducks. Have old photos to remind me of those days.
All Creatures Great and Small brings back those memories. This is not what the plan was when I was thinking of today’s blog, but I’m glad it came up. There’s a comforting factor about Nature, it’s like having a powerful friend on your side. Never mind Nature can bring pleasant and unpleasant surprises. However, it is never without its rewards when we befriend it. Just like music, it penetrates deep and touches your soul to be in the natural world.
In a few days, it will be December 21st. The Winter Solstice will be the shortest day of the year. Then the days start to become longer. Right now, sunrise is at 8:03 am, and sunset at 3:51pm.The days are growing shorter till the Solstice. For me, even thinking about it spells Hope. Just as its darkest before dawn, so it is with life, with the winters of our lives, which bring promise of better days to come.
Looking at the landscape one wonders what magic will prevail when the same land, which today looks bleak with its bare branched trees, will be lush and green and the blackberry bushes will grow flowers and be laden with fruits. Fruit trees will be hanging low with the weight of their yields. The grass will be green, the spiders will build intricate cobwebs and the bulbs in the ground will spring forth with beautiful flowers.
Every tree, every bush, every vegetable patch will one by one bear their offering for the benefit of mankind. It may be a good idea for us to to get to know each other and introduce our children to our magical world, to Nature, which plays out God’s plan.
How can we do that?
Veenu Banga
12/09/2024
11:50 pm.
All the mixed feelings!
However, I have TXL pending. The day after arriving in Berlin, we took a Walking Tour of the city. IMHO, walking tours are one of the best ways to explore the city, as I have found in the several cities we walked with a tour guide. My special favorite was Singapore, but that will have to wait, because it's so easy to get distracted!
The tour guide of the Berlin walking tour had an album of photographs with him. While we may not have gone to Berlin TXL aka Berlin Tegal airport, as part of the city's story, our guide showed us a black and white photo of groups of women standing amidst rubbles of brick. It was most intriguing.
It seems after WW1, with the men all occupied in the war, the women took over a lot of the works that were usually done by men. There was a shortage of 'man'ual labor as many men had died or were wounded.
This photo told the story of how TXL was built. The guide told us, the airport was built with bricks gathered from buildings damaged and/ or destroyed during the war. As per our tour guide, TXL was also designed by and built by mostly women, and was completed in 30 days. Or three months if the below sources are taken into account. However, there is very little other or detailed information on the Internet to corroborate the story of the women's endevor- just a rare mention of the women's efforts, that too on a US site:
"..A third, new airlift terminal facility was desperately needed. A site was selected at Tegel in the French Sector. Construction began Aug. 5, 1948, and was finished Nov. 5, 1948. This involved the construction of a 5,500-foot runway, 6,020 feet of taxiway, 4,400 feet of access road, 2,750 feet of access railroad and over one million square feet of apron area used for unloading operations and aircraft parking. 17,000 German civilians, mostly women, primarily using hand tools and working in three shifts, were responsible for this accomplishment. The greater part of the runway and taxiways were constructed using shattered brick debris from the destroyed buildings of Berlin, then paved over with asphalt ... asphalt, which had been flown into Berlin using 10,000 55-gallon drums!"
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TXL or Berelin Tegal was the airport we had arrived at. I fell in love with the design, and have seen something similar at only one other airport in Europe. Can't remember which.
As soon as we exited the plane, and walked out of the doors and through the vestibule, we came to an enclosure with conveyer belts, where the luggage from our flight was available for pick up. There were similar enclosures at all the other gates, adjoining each other, and between these enclosures which were lined up like rooms outside of the gates, was a cabin like enclosure for the customs officials.
So each flight that landed at TXL, was met at the gate by Customs and Immigration/ border control, and also had their baggage available right outside upon exiting the aircraft via vestibule. After getting our passports stamped and collecting our bags, we exited and went straight out. It was such a practical design, no drama of walking a mile to get to the gates. Only a woman's mind can think like that. It wasn't a posh building, just practical, not overly large, no high ceilings, and painted an inconspicuous pale color. There was a certain coziness and simplicity, which I found enchanting, and fell in love with this style of Airport Arrivals- a homecoming kind of style is how I felt in my senses.
It was very sad and disappointing when I found out that TXL was 'decommissioned' and closed. I think they've constructed something else in its place, but I have no intent or interest to find out what got is. The fact that women had built it as part of reconstructing the country after the war, made it hallowed ground for me.
I wish I had taken pictures of the arrivals area. However, I did take a photo of myself just as we came out, with the letters TXL, and even used it as my Profile photo for a very long time. Berlin Tegal had special significance for me, which I cannot honestly understand why, why was it like deja Vu, even as we drove through the city, a fair distance to Pankow.
The history of the place is evident all over the city, as you see THE Line everywhere, created as a reminder, marking the boundary where the Berlin Wall stood. It cuts through doors of a shopping centre, crosses a street and an angle, diagonally moves and criss crosses the whole city. As important as the Branden burg Gate, but living underfoot, and easy to miss, unless a tourist is curious enough to question it.
Of course the part of the Wall is still there, or was in 2014, near the historic Checkpoint Charlie, where you stand with the American checkpoint on one side, and Russian controlled territory (East Berlin/ Germany) on the other. And how the wall came down is another story in itself. Americans, saviors of the world. Ronald Regan achieved it with a simple sentence, "Mr Gorbachov, tear down this wall!"
I remember My Gorbachov well, and his lovely wife. Can't recall the famous word that defined his Presidency, as he set about to bring change and Russia opened up to the Western world.
The children, culture vultures and chronic travelers that they are, showed me two movies which dealt with the effects of the division of Germany. "Good bye, Lenin" was about a son's love for his mother. The other movie, "The Lives of Others" exposed the workings of the Stasi and was quite chilling for my taste, but an important film about the Police State and what it does to the lives of ordinary people.
At that time, initially I had loved Berlin. It is a city, like Glasgow with a certain 'soul' like but reserved vibrancy. The multicultural population, including Indians dominate the liveliness, and eclectic wares of the Markets.
However, when visiting the Concrete blocks of the Museum of the murdered Jews of Europe, I could feel an eeriness and the pall of death in the air. People walked in between them, like walking a straightforward maze, but I couldn't do it. It was too much to handle and I thought if this is also associated with Berlin, then, perhaps it wasn't close to perfect as my heart seemed to tell me, not with this festering wound, not likely to heal for decades, maybe even a century.
The city and the country itself has tried to move on, but that guilt lingers in Berliners, actually almost all German people, sadly as it is not the fault of this generation. I think that is why they go overboard with their immigration and refugee policy. Berlin is trying to make right the wrongs of the Nazis, trying move on and forward.
The Mall of Berlin is one of the city's shopping and entertainment highlights. We had found a very nice Vietnamese Restaurant in the Food Court there, and when on occasion we were in the area, we ate there.
There were Turkish shops and grocery stores in Pankow as well, so we also ate locally. A bakery was also nearby.
I'm not sure I want to go to Berlin again any time soon. Especially, knowing Berlin Teagal is not where we arrive.
However, we had gone to Berlin for the Christmas markets. Nine major ones, and visited every one of them. They are indeed the Best of the German Markets. Here is where I saw Salmon being smoked on large planks set up like a Teepee, with a fire burning away, the flames licking at the cold air, and reaching out higher and higher.
Indeed, Berlin has earned its reputation for hosting the largest and Brest Christmas Markets. I would go back for that, and maybe can fall in love with the city of the Berlin Buddy Bear all over again.
Veenu Banga
12:25 am
12/ 8-9/ 2024.
Continued from here: https://veenubanga.blogspot.com/2024/12/what-shall-i-say-today.html
Some days hold so much significance that it is hard to write about them. Today is one such day. A birthday of a sister, and the death anniversary of her brother. Both very dear to me, and an intrinsic part of my life. And later, part of my children's lives.
Then, I left. Hindsight provides insights, and exposes folly. When they were needed in my life, they were present, fully. When I should have been there for them, I was not. These are the kinds of situations that are unforgivable, and remorse is just a drop in the ocean of a retribution that is not possible.
Poignantly, while we were oceans apart, and I knew. things were not going well for him, the Brother, my JM. I went to our local temple to find some solace, for my helplessness and restlessness. I sat, head held low, and hardly another soul in sight. An instrumental CD was playing, and as if on cue, it played Vaishnav Jan, which he truly was. A Vaishnav Jan, and he embodied that humility, selflessness ands service.
In his early career, he had been the Managing Editor of news and media publications of a family Publishing and Printing business. They published several school text books, and also brought out magazines in English, and a tabloid in Urdu, besides Independent India's first Film tabloid.
The Sister, my BA, was heavily involved in running the school, the family had opened upon arrival al in New Delhi from Lahore, after partition. The businesses was sold, after it became too big, and the children of the family branched out into other occupations. The School was given over to the State, as it also became too big, and the elders in the family wanted to retire. The Delhi Corporation, which was looking to open more schools, took over the school, and kept the sister on as Principal. She soon after became a Senior Inspectress of schools for the whole district, having about 45 schools which she was responsible for. They both had lived fruitful livers.
The brother and sister were unmarried, and he was very devoted to the family, especially to the sister.
Our generations are reflected in our ancestors. Had they not been we would not be here. Year after year goes by, and time becomes more and more precious and scarce. If only we can live it in a way to make those loved us, nurtured and raised us, proud, we are living well.
If one can remember to rise above adversity, and use the gifts we are given, we can make them proud. Because there is nothing more valuable that we have, or that we can give. Because those gifts have been given us as part of our DNA. What was their legacy, should continue to be ours. So their gifts can be preserved by us, doing our bit to carry them forward.
Veenu Banga
12/7-8/ 2024.
12:12 am
Sometimes, I'm caught on the wrong foot, I speak too soon. Just a couple of days ago, I was complaining about the boring rain, and the dullness and non activity of the rest of the rainmakers, aka lightning and thunder.
Well, guess what, no lightning and thunder, but the winds have been a thrashing about since we got back late evening. Storm Darragh hitting in the early hours of Saturday, around 3:00 am.
We had gone to LHR drop off B, who is headed to Bombay. He called from the Virgin lounge, muting on Hot scones, with clotted cream and jam. I was so envious. Stooped on the way back at to pick up groceries and stuff to bring back. Tesco and Waitrose, are both across the street from each other. Had been craving a sandwich for the past several days. Finally succumbed and bought two at Waitrose. Just delicious. Had forgotten the taste of white sandwich bread. Cannot remember when I last ate it. Has been Granary and sourdough here. And Trader Joe's sourdough stateside.
So, dear blog, my fellow adventurer, was thinking about the whole name thing on the way home. Decided, nah, not going to happen. I'm okay with the added easy familiarity of addressing you by name. It will place too many demands on my time, and I couldn't keep top the social pressure of keeping up appearances, or rather asking an appearance- aka showing up regularly to maintain our relationship. can only do so much socializing. Knowing me I'm sure you understand. we're buddies anyway, you and I both fellow travelers- you come with me and experience my adventures with me, even though in the drafts sometimes.
Wind now thrashing about outside, even more violently. showing its brute force with overbearing aggression.
Yes, I remember, we were going to chat about TXL, but please forgive me. So tired and eyers closing. May we continue tomorrow? So tired and sleepy. Eyes closing, and dozing off. Please forgive me, Blog. It's goodnight for now.
Straddling midnight again! Could have written sooner but was watching a Christmas movie. Only sweet slumber on my mind.
Veenu Banga
12/6-7/2024
12:18 am.
After thinking about some of the things I can talk about today, I think, no maybe not, not this, not that, not the other. However, maybe I can talk about a memory?
Christmas Markets featured predominantly in my 'memories' today. Last year's Markets in and around Frankfurt, especially the video of the luminous creatures ins white, walking on stilts. a pair of them, evoking a magical feeling. Like the Avataar movie.
Other memories and with lots of photos, were of our 9 nights in Berlin for the 2014 Christmas Markets. At that time, I fell in love with Berlin. We stayed at Panko which was at the end of the train line, and from the balcony of our prewar apartment we could see the Tram stop. Busses too were nearby, so it was a good location.
The 'house', itself was a grand affair. Very high ceilings and very wide and extremely high double doors, so high you couldn't throw a towel over it. That should give an idea of the height of the ceilings. Not to mention the ornateness or the rest of the place. Massive living areas, and huge bedrooms. Period furniture. Large balcony. Even the stairs and the common areas of the building were grand, including the carpet on the stairs.
Berlin has 9 big Christmas Markets and a couple were close to each other. Just like in Cologne, where three Markets are almost side by side. The Markets by the River, are a stones throw away from the one near the Cologne Cathedral, flanked by an old Roman wall. The Frankfurt Cathedral Markets are the big ones, the main attraction, where I met the most amazing character, who looked as if he was from another world. The Absinthe man- the man selling Absinthe in his quaint shop, also selling mead. Both these were just names for me before I saw him handle the bottles and pour the liquid.
Mead, supposedly made from honey, was the popular choice in books, and it's the one I remember mentioned in the stories of Robin Hood -drinking or offering it to his one true love, Maid Marion and perhaps having a jug or two with Friar Tuck and Little John.
Absinthe was always more mysterious to me. Made most commonly as an anise and fennel flavored drink, absinthe gets its name from its main ingredient, Artemisia Absinthium- or wormwood. Typically, it's supposed to be green in color and is mysteriously called The Green Fairy. I always imagined fairies drinking absinthe.
This Absinthe seller was a man of peculiar looks, and he really looked like someone from the Fairy kingdom. That was Cologne. Just sneaked in. After all, German Christmas markets are well known the world over. I think the Germans take their Christmas Markets tradition very very seriously. As does Austria- some day I will get there too.
Anyway, back to Berlin. 2014. I'm so much younger in the photos, smiling more, smiling with my cheeks and my mouth and my eyes. Anyway, Berlin. It captured my heart from the moment we landed. However, before that, let me rewind a little.
We had flown out from Brussels, and had to change planes in Munich. For those of us from the US, flying in Europe can be full of surprises. In almost every airport, at least in my experience during our Brussels adventures and even now, the most inexplicable thing that comes to mind, is that why in the world, do the airlines not know confirmed departure gates! Yes, serious.
We were super early, for whatever reason, and were actually given a gate number. We sat at the adjoining gate, which had plenty of room, as compared to 'our' gate, which had a previous flight to ours, scheduled for departure so was thus more crowded.
As it neared time for our flight, I decided to go use the restroom, which was near the next gate over. Used the restroom, and on my way back, just happened to glance at 'our' gate, and horror of unbelievable horrors, saw a flight to Spain listed on it. This is just before we were expecting to be called for boarding. Came back hurriedly, looked at our tickets and checked again- that was the right gate! Darn it! Rushed to the monitors, and saw that our flight's departure had been moved to a different gate, quite far away! Told another family waiting with us, and made a mad, mad dash, to find our flight boarding. No announcements, nothing. Passengers are always advised to keep checking the gates on the monitors. Phew- made it!
It is the same here in the UK, no matter which airline we fly, or which airport. Now we know that we have to keep checking the gates. Fortunately the Lounges too usually have departure information monitors, so when we are using a lounge, that makes it less stressful.
The other inconvenience of European and UK airports is that flights will often wait on the tarmac and passengers are bussed over. Sometimes even a 10-15 minute bus ride away on the open tarmac. Which means you physically climb up the flight of stairs, which are wheeled to the door of the aircraft. No going through the gate tunnel onto the aircraft. It's no fun when it's cold or wet, and we have carry on luggage.
Back to Berlin via Munich. Arrived Munich, and proceeded to the next gate. We boarded on the tarmac, but luckily, the plane was not far from the Gate.
It had been snowing in Munich, so we were not surprised that the flight was delayed. The snow started coming down heavily, and I had a window seat. It was quite exciting for me, as snow was still a novelty, of sorts. I mean I had seen snowfall earlier, many a time, and while I find the flurries magical, when the snow comes down fast, the urgency of its dropping in puffs has it own charm and excitement. It's like watching the snow pieces racing with each other to make a soft landing on the ground.
If I were a child, I would want to imagine what it would be like to come riding down on one of those little cloud-like scraps of snow. And to touch down, legs out, feet first. Then stand steadying oneself, as feet sink into the white powder. But I'm not a child, yet I can dream. Dream, a much better and far forgiving word than envision. Envision has a mercenary ring to it, while dream has a gentler quality about it, vulnerable, and open to the unexpected. Curiously adventurous too, maybe?
Anyway, back to Munich. I'm sitting by the window and suddenly I'm accosted by a foaming substance and brushing and rubbing against my window. Something I had never seen before. Our plane was being deiced! I always remember that about Munich. My first deicing experience.
We took off from Munich and arrived into a sunny Berlin afternoon.
It's 11:11 pm now, and I want to sleep early tonight. Do you mind, dear Blog if I continue tomorrow? Plus, it's already become so long, and I do not want it to get boring for you. I hope you appreciate I am not neglecting you and am writing everyday. I hope to keep up the streak, at least for all of December, and we can ring in the New Year together. You and I, my trusted and beloved keyboard and blog page. catching up with you at the end of my day.
More about Berlin tomorrow. I promise you will not be disappointed. First it's going to be the story of the Airport- what it was like and how it was built and by whom, and with what. The second memory that stands out is of the old man, who sat in the toilets, servicing them, with a small Christmas tree and a few odd bits on a table, where he was also eating dinner.
And yes, I bought my woolen coat in Berlin. After much searching, I found something which was all wool, warm, and not too heavy around my shoulders.
Until tomorrow blog, see you then. Maybe I should give you a name, just like I have named my car. What I shall I call you? Let's talk about it tomorrow, shall we? And of course, Berlin.
Veenu Banga
December 5, 2024
11:25 pm.
Continued here: https://veenubanga.blogspot.com/2024/12/what-weekend.html
It's 11:56 pm, and despite wanting to write my post earlier, it happens again, and again. I had finished dinner by 6:30 pm, which is a good thing. Wettish day, just steady constant rain. Though I was realizing today, they never have thunderstorms or lightning! That's why the rain here is so boring.
Have no idea what the title of today's post is going to be, but what's on my mind is saying bye to C's and heading back to the F's! Though it wasn't very cold today, just a little windy, but the rain was a constant.
The quality of food, especially produce is so good here. Also, it's less lonely, as lots of my fellow Motherland's children abound here, and even the locals are generally quite amenable and open minded.
Saw a lovely movie on Netflix with K. Hallmark Christmas movie. Was inspiring as in could relate and wanted to write a story myself.
Yesterday had also seen a lovely video of a 97 year Japanese lady, who makes soba noodles from scratch. Video also shows her. making Fried Rice and rice cakes.
https://youtu.be/RfHTcloRdIU?si=LmQhxJuKzNwnE8WJ
Day started off a bit intense, but the turned out okay. Now counting down to the F's! less than two weeks to go. Can hear the wind outside. Going to call it an early night.
Was Palli's son, Aditya's birthday. He turned 14! The eggless cake was delicious, and thankfully NOT chocolate! I thought I was the only one in the world who doesn't like chocolate!
Oh, yes, I made Upma today, my very favorite breakfast!
That's it for tonight!
Veenu Banga
12:18 am
12/4-5/2024
A few hours ago, I thought the title of today's blog will be The Good Cry- four of them, maybe even five. However, as I sit down to write, just this one comes to mind, as the day's usual demands blur the earlier parts of the day.
Same with the dreams. Gone are the days when I would wake up and write down the dreams of the night, which I would remember vividly. This morning, I even remembered the name of one of the people (stranger) that was part of my dream. Maybe I should keep my notebook handy, which I did in the past. Also, there's musings and meanderings on the Notes app on my phone. So much material - all waiting to be seen on the light of the screen. As a young mother one achieved more. There was more passion and more Energy. Then Life. Some people let you down, and some people, we let down. More and more, I think Karma, as Samanijis said, yes..but also I am now convinced of Destiny. What else can explain the..?
So, the one 'good cry' moment was revisiting this song, "It Is Well With My Soul," and the story behind it. The powerful moment came at the start of his singing, when he said,
"It is in the quiet crucible of your personal private sufferings that your noblest dreams are born and God's greatest gifts are given, in compensation for what you've been through." Wintley Phipps
The word CRUCIBLE, with what eloquence has he chosen, and how well he says it.
Wintley Phipps tells the story here:
https://youtu.be/E8HffdyLd0c?si=csQkam5kCtK8GYTl
There are several versions of the lyrics, but the following resonated with me most. He sings two of these stanzas.
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