Visiting Home Away From Home

When we first moved to Buen Paso, a rural, hilly area of Tenerife, our house was in a remote place. There were very few houses around us, with natural scenery of Atlantic Ocean on one side and volcano Teide on the other side. The cold crisp wind from hills kept the temperature low at all times of the day. Every evening I watched the beautiful sunsets, either from my kitchen window or from my balcony or from my terrace. The colors and hues in the sky was a treat to the eyes, but how many sunsets to watch?

I wanted to go out to explore the city

Tenerife is a beautiful island with hundreds of beaches all along the coastline. It is a tourist paradise with clubs, water sports and many great places of interest. But my family stays far away from city in a small quiet town.

Going independently to town meant climbing four steep hills to reach the bus station. It was not worth it. I was confined to home because I cannot drive. Most of the time I passed reading books, making handicraft items, cooking or painting. 

Just below our balcony were open fields. A farmer would come everyday and tend to his vegetables, it was a hard work but I would watch him grow rows and rows of cabbage. Sometimes he would offer me his produce and it tasted so fresh and succulent. His field was evenly spaced out with proper drainage and water sprinklers at regular interval. There was a pretty house at a distance, a holiday home of some German family, which was active and lighted up during summer.

One summer, I spent my time in the balcony painting the scene outside my home. I am glad I did, because that scene is there no more.

Some five years ago, Government decided to build a hospital behind my house. The farmer was given enough funds to give up his land for redevelopment of this area. A big hospital stands now with a concrete motorway cutting across the field. There is a big parking area behind the highway but the house still stands and the ocean beyond.

There are row houses up across the pathway leading up the hill. Most of the people remain indoors so I don't meet any one even if I want to climb this path

The hills are till steep, there are beautiful sunsets and chilly breeze from the sea, but no more fresh cabbage for me.....

Birthday Party With Special Children

This year, I celebrated my birthday at school with 14 mentally challenged students who share my birthday month of June.

All the children who were celebrating sat on a plastic chair in one row facing eighty more children who sat on the mat opposite them. Children had prepared a small poem/talk/word of appreciation/song, each according to his ability to express their happiness. There was cake cutting session, dance, music, snacks and laughter.

I sat on the far left side of the row and watched them enjoy. Not everybody smiled. Some had blank looks, deeply lost into their own world. Some had to be helped to walk and take their birthday gift. Some looked curiously at the gift for few minutes, then tossed them on floor and some just refused to take their gifts.

My eyes rested on Jesal who suffers from ‘Dandy Walkers Syndrome’. He celebrated his eleventh birthday. He sat curled, sunk in the chair; his head drooped due to poor muscular support. The handkerchief pinned to his shirt collar was wet, soaked in drool. When his turn came to be greeted by his friend, an assistant lifted his chin to make him look up, helped him receive the gift and shake his friend’s hand.

Birthday is the day when they are made to feel like a royalty. It is difficult to understand what thoughts are running in their mind. Are they feeling sorry for themselves? Are they feeling unloved? Or do they have no feelings at all?

Later in the evening I made a home visit to Jesal’s house.

Jesal has a very caring and doting family. His parents, grandparents and his twin sister are his universe. His twin sister sometimes wishes on a star to make her brother as normal and intelligent as she is. She wonders how different her life would be, had she to share a room with him? She would have loved to play with his toys and sometimes have a pillow fight with him.

Jesal lay curled up on a small bed in fetus position, playing with his fingers. There was no acknowledgement of my presence or my greeting. I sat down closer to him on a chair. I tried making conversation with him, but there was no response. While chatting with his mom, I stretched my hand and placed my finger on his palm. His finger curled tightly around my finger and the contact was made. I held his hand, took it up in the air and down again, repeating it several times. I returned my attention back to the conversation with his family. Jesal continued to play with my hands, gripping my fingers, rubbing my palm and lifting my hand.

Although he made no conversation, nor made any eye contact with me, I think I saw his teeny-Minnie smile from the corner of his mouth when I said goodbye.

Mumbai Rains

Every morning, since last ten days, I am dressed to go out to complete some errands like marketing and a visit to the bank. Before stepping out, I look up in the sky, the thick dark clouds are very discouraging, I change my mind. 

I am restless.

It is raining non-stop. I am not very brave to venture out in heavy rains. The recent fracture was very inconvenient and had me home bound for three months. The memory of pain has not yet faded away. I am afraid to go out on wet streets. The roads in Mumbai are slippery. There is puddle everywhere. I am always afraid of losing my balance. 

My errands can wait. But how long? 

This Sunday I decided to go to my sister’s place for lunch. Sundays is family time. I am too lazy to cook and spending time with my sister’s family is always a better option. 

It was raining heavily. I could have called my nephew to come and fetch me but then ruled out against it. I decided to hail an auto-rickshaw instead. Walking slowly at snail’s pace, puffing at every step, I reached down to the gate, and was surprised to see stream of water running closer to the footpaths. I stood at curb, waving at every auto-rickshaw. None was willing to go in the direction that I wished to go.

I decided to walk. Taking each step slowly, under heavy rains, balancing an umbrella and my handbag I waded through water. “Go back home, go back home” my inner voice prompted me. Many times I was tempted to turn back to the comfort of my home. The umbrella served no support against strong winds and rain. Soon I was drenched from head to toe by passing vehicles that splashed water from the puddle on my clothes.

Cool, wet breeze blew against my face. Suddenly I realized that I was enjoying the walk in the rain.

Memories of childhood cascaded in my mind. I love rain and have walked in the rain many times. During my growing up years, I never missed school if it was raining.  Many times have run down the steps into building compound to get drenched in the first showers of the rain.  There have been long bike rides with my friends under dark skies to the lakes. The sound of the rain is music to my ears. Mumbai city gets paralyzed during monsoon, it’s nothing new but I have walked in heavy rains in the past and have enjoyed every moment of it.

The same wave of pleasure enveloped me once again.

I walked in the rain for quite a distance till I found an auto-rickshaw.

Finally I saw Venice on the linking road.

People continued to go about their business, rain scares nobody

A common sight of vehicles that refuse to cooperate.

The little time I spent walking in the rain is the moment that remains etched in my mind. Maybe I should walk again.

Architecture in Barcelona

The first time I drove around the city of Barcelona, I was fascinated with the architecture in the city. While Gaudi’s influence is not always visible in modern architecture, the colors and the styles are prominent and spectacular. The risk has been taken in designing the city and in using bright colors.

Natural shapes inspired Gaudi that can be seen at Sagrada Familia basilica that has different architectural style on its four sides.

But other architects have also been brave in designing the building which are now the tourist delight.

It was amazing to see that building at corners had flat edges, thus making the street corners big enough to have terraces for communal and sociable atmosphere.

Traditional Catalan Gothic style is seen in many of the old buildings that are a feast to the eyes.

One can spend hours touring round the city, in the comfort of the car, just admiring the beauty of the architecture everywhere.