Memories of Jodhpur

 Memories of Jodhpur 

We took the early morning flight from Jaipur  to Jodhpur.  Our driver, who had driven there overnight, met us at the airport.  Also present was a representative from Travelscope as was the case with each new city that we arrived in. On our drive to the hotel, they regaled us with the history of and stories about their city.  Their pride and passion for their home was not lost on us.  Having somebody from the city introduce us to it was a really nice touch.  Jodhpur exceeded our wildest expectations and our stay there was our happiest.  Dubbed, the blue city, Jodhpur’s history is unique in that even the houses of the caste segregated quarters were in the past, painted in different colours so the rulers could tell them apart.  The Brahmin blue houses are still visible from a perch atop the magnificent Mehrangarh (“M”) Fort.  But I am getting ahead of myself!  Our accommodation was at the heart of the city in a magical hotel called Raas Jodhpur.  Our room had large French doors which opened into a little private enclosed patio facing the magnificent M Fort.  This boutique hotel at the base of the fort was luxurious with warm staff, a pool and charming restaurant with indoor/outdoor dining.  

That first evening, our city guide took us for a walk through the streets and markets.  Just across from the hotel we stopped at a magnificent step-well, a unique feature of this desert state.  These step-wells built several centuries ago are square or rectangular and the size of swimming pools.  They are at least 100 feet deep and have steps.  In the past, women would descend those steps to fetch water from them.  They could rest in the landings before ascending to the top.  There are several of these throughout the state and they are architectural marvels.  At this step well, a musician dressed in traditional attire and sporting a bright red turban, sat playing the archaic but melodic ravanahatha, providing the perfect ambience.  We  passed by little shops marvelling at the amount of inventory crammed into them, an atmosphere of commerce and cheer, a perfect example of order in chaos.  As we walked through arches and crumbling architecture from a glorious past of city squares and grand homes, we came upon clusters of shops selling similar wares and commercial activity of all forms catering to every income level.  The Tamil saying “you can buy everything other than your parents” came to mind there.  Having enjoyed a sampling of this shoppers’ heaven, but quiet-seekers’ hell, we returned to our rooms to gear up for our Christmas Eve dinner.  

We made our way up narrow winding, steep, stone stairs to the terrace bar around 6:30 p.m. I had worn sensible shoes, thank god!  We were the first to arrive and were treated to complimentary glasses of our liquor of choice and a glass of champagne.  Lots of o’devours made their rounds and we foolishly ate them leaving little room for dinner.  I felt uncomfortable that the waiters had to balance heavy trays several times up those stairs and made a mental note to tip them well at the end of our stay.  Dinner was a choice between 2 set menus one Indian and another Western.  This paled in comparison with the celebratory Christmas Eve dinner two years ago in Nuwara Eliya, Sri Lanka, where we were tempted with  stations upon stations of food and desserts reminiscent of a colonial past where no expense was spared to hail the birthday of Christ.  Here at Raas Jodhpur, the celebrations were elegant, muted,  somewhat underwhelming, but, maybe, better for our soul?  We both had the soup and salad but did not do justice to the main and dessert and let’s just say there were a couple of happy dogs around the step-well outside, who got to enjoy some of our Christmas delights!   We were the first to leave the party, eager for sleep in our comfortable beds.  

At 8:30 the next morning, we left for the M Fort.  Our plan was to beat the crowd.  This Fort is magnificent having been built over several centuries and has remained reasonably well preserved.  The highlights were the miniature art paintings, the palanquins, and the exquisite decor in the private and public chambers of royalty.  So much thought had been put into securing these palace forts from enemies and marauders.  With lots of photographs clicked to admire this marvellous fort’s unique attributes at leisure, we left for our next stop, a memorial for the Rajput King Jaisingh II built by his loving wife.  He was and still is revered as a saintly person.  He was also ahead of his time in that he did not want his wife to self emolate upon his death, as was custom then.  After his death, she ordered her son to build him a monument to immortalize her love for and devotion of him.  This memorial in marble is breathtaking.  After paying our respects to the late king, we paid homage to a shoppers’ haven.  This shop with its antique warehouse as a front, sold everything imaginable!  It burnt a hole in our pockets, as I indulged in designer jackets, shawls, blankets and even a saree.   All were made from natural fibres and mostly hand made.  Some purchases were definitely impulsive buys, but we left the store quite happy with our loot:). We then stopped at the most famous samosa shop in the city and were treated by our guide  to samosas, kachoris and, at its most decadent, lassi which was creamy, saffron scented and sweet.  We returned to rest and get over our food coma.  

Our guide took us in the evening to a section of town with narrow alleys where centuries’ old homes maintained the charm of yesteryear!  And we were in the “blue” quarter where Brahmin families continue to live.  A throwback to an ancient era, time stood still here except for the sound of the TV in some homes.  A number of homes were locked - but most had a sign in Hindi outside that translated to “so and so family welcomes you..”.  We walked back through narrow alleys of shops selling wedding clothes, turbans and all kinds of paraphernalia.  No wonder cities of Rajasthan are the most popular for big fat Indian destination weddings.  These folks have everything to pull off a grand and flashy affair!  Smart move by this state to ensure revenue from tourism and events!  We had a lovely breakfast at the Raas, freshly made chillas (like dosa but made with daal), yummy poha and filter coffee.  I stopped at the kachori shop for some samosas, kachoris and lassi for the road before heading to Narlai, enroute a handmade cotton rug store where I picked one up from an incredible array of designs.  Yes, indulgence was my middle name!  Alas we did no more shopping after this! 

Jaipur and wandering in the Aravali Hills!

From  Ranthambore our next stop was Jaipur.  We arrived at the Samodhe Haveli after lunch.  We fell in love with the beautiful heritage property.  Our room was on the ground floor opening into the courtyard with beautiful trees and tiny lily ponds.  The lights and decorations brought in the holiday cheer.  This property had belonged to a wealthy merchant and has now been upgraded to a high end hotel with pool, luxurious rooms overlooking courtyards with spectacular outdoor/indoor dining.  Of course there was only one restaurant cum bar, which served food at the pool or practically anywhere you wanted it.  The upstairs terrace offered bar service every evening from 5-7 pm, and lured guests to it with complimentary coffee, tea and snacks.  Located in old Jaipur the property offers spectacular views of the Amer Fort and the bustling city, all from a comfortable vantage point.  Jaipur and all of Rajasthan are about commerce, trading and various forms of fine art.  On the first day we asked the driver to take us to the market streets, especially Babu Bazaar, which I had visited on a previous trip.  The crowds were oppressive and we negotiated our way as though through an obstacle course, clutching tightly to our bags and watching our step on the uneven path.  We bought a couple of shawls and, somewhat overwhelmed, beat a hasty retreat to the car.  We settled for a light dinner at our hotel, with tomato soup and starters, and went to bed.  The next morning we met the guide who took us to Amer Fort.  It is also known as Amber Fort and has been built over several centuries.  It was part of the old city, before the official city by the name Jaipur came into being.  We progressed through the centuries, remembering scenes from popular Bollywood movies shot there and marvelling over  th intricacy of the architecture and art created by the artisans of yesteryear.

After this, we visited the Dera elephant retreat where a family has taken on the very expensive but noble cause of rescuing elephants who are otherwise overworked and subject to abuse as temple mascots or in wedding processions.  They are forced to travel long distances on paved roads to wherever they are needed.  We met Rang Mala a naughty 44 year old who consumes 250 kg of food and 200 litres of water everyday!   She posed for us and allowed us to stroke her in anticipation of the bananas, jaggery and sugarcane we would feed her.  We took a 20 minute walk with her and then proceeded to have a nice lunch of simple vegetable dishes, bread and rice and a coconut barfi for dessert.  After a refreshing cup of Masala Chai we left.  In the evening we showered, dressed and went to up to the terrace for evening views from our perch atop the city, over tea and snacks.  We then proceeded downstairs for a pre dinner drink at the bar beside the open courtyard.  Giggling and lightheaded  after just one rose martini I tripped and banged the top of my head against a wall. Hearing the reverberation as my skull made contact with the concrete wall a hotel staff member came running with ice cubes wrapped in a towel. He offered to arrange for a visit to the hospital.  Thankfully, I experienced no blackout and no ringing in my ears.  I had a dull pain in the general area and I tried to will it away as we proceeded to the restaurant for dinner.  I had a beetroot salad which went down gently and Uttara had pasta.  The next morning we were bound for an early morning hike.  I hoped, as I lay in bed that night, that I would be pain free and able.  I somehow knew I would.  I attribute my ability to recover quickly to my regular yoga practice.  The head bang was quite intense and bothered the side of my neck but was perhaps not hard enough to crack my thick (lol) skull!  I survived without pills.  

Early the next morning our tour company had arranged a hike.  We met our guide and his assistant.  We were given yoga mats to carry.  I had worn my yoga t shirt and white pants and my Barbour jacket to ward off the nip.  Our guide, a young and deeply spiritual man who offiated as a priest in their family’s Shiva temple, when he was not guiding hikers, spoke eloquently about the ancient Aravali mountains and the Amagarh fort portion, which we were scaling, and its history.  It had been built by the Meena tribe who continued to live in a settlement in the valley, which we spotted on our aerial view from the summit.  Our first stop was a Hanuman temple.  We met the priest who lived in a room beside the temple, surrounded by moringa, guava and other fruit trees and herbs.  He told us that he survived off the largesse of people living in the foothills.  We learnt that leopards who freely roamed those  hills are his friends! After offering prayers and listening to mantras chanted by our guide for our well being, we proceeded to the top.  Shera, our guide’s dog was our companion.  We did yoga at the summit, blew the conch and had a picnic.  Right there, the assistant laid out an impressive spread of poha, fruits, biscuits, peanut candy, milk sweet, coffee and tea, all of which he had carried up.  We felt guilty to turn down their generous offering but could only partake of the tasty poha, which really hit a spot.  We meandered down via a dry ravine, ended up at Sagar lake where we visited a Durga temple before bidding farewell to our guide.   

Geologically the Aravalis are older than the Himalayas.  The atmosphere is spiritually charged and our conversation on metaphysics, consciousness and growing in awareness, was scintillating.  We saw a lot of Jeeva Samadhis of sages, who have passed, along the way.  There are 350 temples around a 2 km radius of this range.  No wonder.  All in all it was a deeply moving experience and I offered up gratitude for having been able to complete our undulating 3 hour hike up and around those sacred hills without any pain or discomfort.  

That afternoon we visited Janthar Manthar, the ancient site of stone astronomical structures/instruments that depict with astonishing precision the movement of the sun, moon and planets.  Next we visited the City Palace, more a museum of royalty clothes, artifacts, modes of transport, jewellery and so on.  Most impressive were the massive silver pots which, filled with Ganges water,  accompanied the king on his travels to England.   

That evening we bought silver jewelry, shawls and fabrics, things Jaipur is famous for, from shops within the vicinity of our hotel.   We then packed, ready to set out for Jodhpur, our next destination.  

Chasing a tiger in Ranthambore

Arriving in Chennai mid December, I found myself sitting in all my favourite spots in our house,  enjoying the familiar sounds.  I had entered this house after my marriage, 40 years ago.  I felt so lucky for its constant presence in my life and living through its different iterations.  So many people had breathed within its walls.  I felt engulfed in their spirit.  This is the best one of all the beautiful spaces I get to call my home.  The house beckons with a “you belong here”.  Among other places where I can lay my head to rest with a sense of home are my place in Toronto, my mother’s in Chennai, my daughter’s in London and those of my two sisters’ in Chennai and Dubai., respectively.  I am so grateful that my sphere of reference is so vast on God’s green earth, spanning 3 continents.  

Our trip to Chennai was fraught with emotions that ran deep and rocked my composure.  So many memories came flooding back of when I was someone’s wife.  I was careful not to wallow and stayed present o appreciate all that there is. After 4 days with close family we were Rajasthan bound really not knowing what to expect! 

On Tuesday, the 19th of December, we boarded the AI flight to Jaipur enroute Mumbai.  I realized I may have overpacked given the confusion around the weather at our destination!   Anyway it was going to be mostly linens, with a vest, shawl and jacket for reinforcement!  I also packed 4 pairs of shoes besides the one I was wearing!  Hiking, walking, running and house slippers.  We flew to Mumbai and had a short transfer to Jaipur.  The flights were both pleasant and all seemed to be going well.  Fast forward.  Uttara’s bag did not arrive.  It was in a hold in Mumbai and they could not tell us why they had held it and when or how it would come!  We had not been called to check the contents of the bag for anything suspicious given our short transfer.  Not a great way to start our holiday!  I was distraught over how this situation would resolve.  First her laptop’s damaged computer screen on the flight from London to Chennai, and now this! We took a detour to buy some clothes at the mall in Jaipur and I kept trying Air India for an update, with no response.  

Then I realized the benefit of engaging a company to manage our tour.  We were engulfed in a circle of comfort by Travelscope folks.  The driver was kind and reassuring as was the contact who picked us up at the Jaipur airport and our anchor(s) in Delhi. Despite that I carried on with a niggling unease  as to whether it bode well for our trip/adventure.  Then, we stopped for tea.  I went into the washroom and there, staring into the mirror offered up a prayer.  In an instant, I went from agitated to calm and curious.  My willingness to surrender and stay open, had an impact on the mood of everyone around me.  We pressed on chatting with our kind and reassuring driver, Devi Singh, who ended up becoming a good friend!  We were now happily bound for Hotel Khem Vilas, in the middle of the Ranthambore jungle.  I had poor reception in the middle of the jungle.  I relaxed into unknowing trusting in the folks who were following up on our behalf!  After all there was no point in not enjoying what was in front of us.  

The air had a nip so we took out our shawls and vests and headed for dinner after a quick shower in our cottage where the heat had been set high giving it an ultra cozy vibe.  The cottage had an ornate outer door that led into a private courtyard.  You had to  turn left to climb a few stairs to a sit-out and the glass entrance doors to our room.   Civilizing in the heart of the jungle where leopards roamed!  The cement floors had cotton rugs on them for relief from the cold. There were 2 twin beds set close together. The glass windows on either side and at the entrance provided a wide view of the vegetation around.  The property abutted the forest reserve where tigers, leopards, hyenas, even sloth bears roam alongside, deer, sambal, monkeys, snakes and hundreds of species of birds.  This was our escape into the jungle.  Other unique features of this cottage were a large outdoor tub adjoining the bathroom, and on the far side of the cottage, a traditional fabric woven cot that served as a lounging seat reminiscent of a time when people sat around in their courtyards sharing the latest gossip of the day.  All very charming.  

The dining area was open and they had little chulas (coal stoves) on the floor by each table.  Dinner was a buffet.  You picked up your large copper plates and cups and served yourself the vegetarian delicacies, red beans in gravy, spinach with cottage cheese, potato cauliflower and yoghurt, pickles and pappad.  Hot breads were served at the table.  The simple vegetarian fare which tasted home-cooked, mild and wholesome, made our tongues sing.  Satisfied, we went to bed for a restful sleep before our wake up for an early morning sighting of wildlife within a small sliver of the 1400 sq km of forest in Ranthambore, Rajasthan, our reason for being there.  We were up at 6 a.m. then hurriedly dressed, drank coffee, picked up a bag of cheese sandwiches and water that the resort provided and were safari bound.  It was a bumpy jeep ride through Zone 4 of the Ranthambore forest.  We had a knowledgeable and passionate guide who wanted to be the first to spot a tiger from among all the jeeps that were allowed in that day.  We had had to book months in advance and there had been uncertainty around whether the safaris would be allowed on the days we had earmarked for our adventure into the jungle.  We also heard that tiger spottings were not common and it would take luck.  Our driver had said on the previous day, “luck by chance.  I will pray for you”.   There were just 80 tigers in that vast jungle.  The odds were indeed stacked against us.  No wonder.  Again a prayer and an intentional surrender to whatever was.  Within minutes the guide in the jeep ahead waved to us and there in front of us was the resplendent tiger #120.  Seeing him was life changing.  So gorgeous and strong he was as he lay there licking his wounds, resulting from his fight with his brother a few days prior.  He then rolled over and stood up and walked as though to mark his territory.  He did not seem to care about us human voyeurs, just 15 feet away, watching his every move, mesmerized by his magnificence.  There was something so childlike and pure, and yet princely and powerful about him.  It turned out that he is popularly known as Ganesh.  And in these parts it is auspicious to worship Ganesh on this day, a Wednesday!  We could not take our eyes off him, even worship him (!) till he got up and walked away.  Then we raced to where he was headed to catch another sight and then to another area to spot a female and her cubs.  No more sightings.  We had enjoyed our share of luck with Ganesh - so we returned happy.  In retrospect witnessing Ganesh in his habitat, at such proximity, for those brief minutes, was transformative and set the tone for our holiday.  We were humbled by this extraordinary beauty of nature that was so unselfconscious.  I felt so insignificant and my problems so minor! 

Just by the forest and hills surrounding it, the Ranthambore fort is 1000 years old and stands pretty sturdy and strong.  It has been classified a heritage property (Archealogical Survey of India) and hence has undergone some repairs and fortifications!  We hiked  up with considerable ease although we had to scale more than 200 steps that were spaced and wide.  After seeing the fort remains and the spectacular views of the forest, where our tiger friends roamed, in the hills around us, we went to the Ganesh temple on this hill.  We prayed to the only Trinetra (three eyed) Ganesh idol in the world.  One who grants all wishes.  Again who knew? I can only believe that Ganesh both the beast and the idol ensured an auspicious start to our holiday.  Hindus usually start an activity after praying to Lord Ganesha, the remover of all obstacles and without any plan we had been brought before Him.  At the next altar, of Shiva and Devi, the priest tied a protective thread around each of our wrists, to ward off evil, (!) and we went along with his good intentions!   It was past 12 when we arrived at our hotel and settled till lunch was served at 1.  The bags were forgotten and our hearts were full.  We got to the hotel to receive news that the bag had arrived the previous night and had been picked up by our travel representative and sent to Samodhe Haveli, in Jaipur, our next stop.  The holiday had gotten off to a good start after all!  

About a mouse

Our house in Canada is on an acre lot.  We have a large backyard and the vegetation in the form of trees and bushes is not too well tended, given I travel a lot.  The grass is cut, the perennials come and go and generally front and back yards are somewhat unkempt because some patches do get overrun with weeds and stifle the growth of the perennials that I have lovingly planted over the years.  The tulips inevitably show up in surprising spots and in multiple colours, and the peonies are steadfast, as are the lilacs.  The tiger lily and lily of the valley have been faithful thus far but have taken over the flocks that I planted a few summers ago.  The hostas are sturdy and form a nice cover close to our septic tank at the back.  We have raccoons as any rural property worth its salt in Canada should.  They rummage through the garbage if it is left out overnight, creating a mess.  They also make scratchy noises on our roof, in competition with the large black squirrels.  It is all part of Canadian life just as much as the four seasons.  They remain vestiges of this beautiful land and make us aware that we humans are intruders.  I am not bothered by any of these sights and sounds of nature’s beauty, even though they annoy the daily rhythm of my life sometimes.  However, I had not bargained for the extreme reaction that my Taiwanese tenant had to this cadence.  I mistakenly rented the upstairs to them for a month.  They begged and seemed responsible and low maintenance.  I rationalized that it was nice to have people and movement in the house than to leave it empty for long periods of time, so I capitulated.  My downstairs is rented and my friend who co-hosts with me takes care of the renters’ needs when I am not in the country.  

Things appeared to be going well with both renters.  Suddenly one day she called me about my upstairs renter.  She got a call late one night asking her to go over and clean the garbage which the raccoon had toppled over to create a mess!  She patiently advised them about the ways of the raccoon and went over the next day to calm their jangled nerves.   A day later, all hell broke lose when they spotted a little field mouse in the house.  Their fear and outrage knew no bounds.  They asked that she go over immediately to catch it.  She told them that this happened sometimes when the weather turned cold, especially given all the vegetation and vast expanse of land around the house.  She asked them to set a mouse trap and instructed them on setting one.  They would not hear of it.  She got a call later that day, stating they had killed the mouse, but could she go over to clean the mess.  It was her turn to be outraged.  As the owner of the space, I felt responsible and helpless that she was having to deal with this nonsense.  When she refused to go over, they emailed me asking me to immediately engage a pest control company since they suspected there could be one more and that they were avoiding the kitchen and were not going to use the stove, oven or dishwasher till they were sure the mouse did not emanate from the kitchen!  I was amused that a little field mouse had the power to order their life, constrain their activities and confine them to certain parts of the house.    I told them that they had a week left in their stay and I would be there the following week to take care of it.  I assured them that the mouse did not want to be around them as much as they did not want it around and they should relax.  But alas, that mouse, though dead, has firmly lodged itself into their heads with no escape!     

 

 

 

 

The adventures of a tech idiot

These travel experiences of mine come in different flavours.  However, front and centre to everything is technology.  This one had the flavour of a skill test.  Ok so let me back up.  I took the Uber at 5 am to London St. Pancras train station.  My train was at an ungodly 6:15 am.  This was my first trip on the Eurostar. I was bound for Ghent, Brussels, to give a talk there.  I thought I was so well packed and prepared!  I had ticked off all items on my checklist!  I was feeling pretty smug as I boarded the train.  Little did I realize I would have to bring all faculties my small brain could conjure up, to bear.  I took the laptop out to review and edit my presentation.  I had saved it on my  desktop and found to my dismay that I had packed my laptop without the power cable with battery pack.  I had left it at home.  The cable had been plugged into an extension which was behind the bicycle beside the bed.  It had taken some awkward maneuvering to get the cable plugged in.  In my early morning bleariness, I guess I had not bothered  to unplug and pack it! So now I had to think clearly.  My laptop battery would drain fast giving me no access to my presentation!  Assuming the worst, that I would not have access to my desktop, I tried to email the presentation to myself.  The wifi on the Eurostar kept going in and out, so I tethered my phone to access wifi on the laptop.  The phone signals were weak.  I was counting down to the power going off on my laptop.  I had to somehow email the talk and PowerPoint or connect to VPN and save it on the server.  I grew a little frantic as neither option worked.  I always carry a USB, this time I did not.  So saving on a USB was not an option either!  I made a mental note for the next time.  I texted my co- workers who had gone ahead and asked them to help me find a store that sold laptop chargers in Ghent.  After all the conference was at a university. As I was nearing Ghent, my attempt to email the presentation proved successful.  However, neither of my colleagues had come with their laptop for me to be able to use their cable or laptop, for that matter to do last minute edits.  What a strange confluence of unhappy coincidences! I had no choice.  I had to buy a new cable.  I somehow knew everything would work out.  

I stayed calm and enjoyed the bus ride from the train station to the hotel, where I had requested early check in! In an hour I was at the conference site.  We went to the electronic store.  The charger that I was looking for was unavailable.  It was not available anywhere in Ghent and with the presentation the next day, there was no way I could get one online delivered to my hotel on time.  But the young man at the counter appeared really smart.  With words of encouragement from me about his apparent ingenuity and my trust in him to find me a solution, he appeared determined to help me out!  Finally after many minutes of pondering and unpacking devices that did not work, he landed on an adapter which was wattage compatible with my laptop and with plug in provisions for USB b, c ports.  He also found me a long cable to connect adapter to my laptop with the “c” head.  Such serendipity, since I had not brought a compatible plug to charge my iPhone.  65 euros later, everything worked out!  I thanked the young man profusely for going against store policy and opening several sealed packs  to check until he landed on that adapter.  I was very persuasive and he wanted to help out his “mom” age person.  He broke rules to get the job done.  And he sold product for his store.  He had known he would if he landed on the right thing.  Such acuity, empathy, flexibility and awesome customer service from an obscure corner of Belgium.  He was a leader.  I wondered if all kids were trained this way and got my answer the next day.  After a nice Indian dinner that night, I polished up my presentation, also waking up early.  The only constraint was I could not work without my laptop plugged in.  The presentation was a resounding success, provoking conversations on AI and ethics.  It just took one curious, bright and passionate geek to make all the difference.  

The next morning on my way to Brussels, I asked a young man for train information since the electronic board was unintelligible to me.  He admitted having difficulty reading the board himself and whipped out his phone, looked it up on the app and provided me the right information.  He even got on the train to confirm with someone else!  Long live geeky young technophobes who want to help!  The world is safe in their hands in the age of AI! 

Just another flight - not! August 28, 2023

On August 28th morning, I was chuffed. I was all packed and organized for my trip from London to Chennai. I felt totally in control. The Uber driver came within 3 minutes of my calling him. Usually it’s a hassle getting one to Heathrow. Today was different. For the same reason, we breezed through with no traffic. It was a bank holiday in England. The weekend before the September Labour Day weekend in North America. Check in and security were a breeze. I found myself in the Aspire Lounge, Terminal 5 enjoying a sumptuous breakfast. I made my calls to my sisters. Utta called and everything was just going swimmingly. I made my way to my gate thinking I would be boarded in an hour. Wrong. Things began to get really hairy at this point. The entire Air Traffic Control system in London was down. Hacked for ransom or for jollies? Cyber terrorism of some form? Benign system failure with not so benign consequences grounding hundreds of planes in one swell snoop? So many questions and no answers! No one was saying anything to help us make sense of the situation. It made the news. Social media and all news media outlets were buzzing about this unmitigated catastrophe. The pilot used the word “unprecedented” to explain this unusual occurrence. With the dawning of the AI era, this catastrophe brought to the fore our sheer vulnerability in a world where we are at technology’s mercy. The worst had happened! Hundreds of planes grounded in London airports, thousand of passengers stranded. The airport, passengers and airlines in a tailspin, the effects of which would linger for days. 

We were given food vouchers worth 10 BP each and told there was no take off time. The pilot, however, wanted to do right by us and give it his best shot to get us out of London. We were on a long haul flight that deserved to be prioritized by the much slower manually managed replacement Air Traffic Control system in effect, he said. He seemed like a man on a mission, capable of taking charge. He boarded us, had our bags on-boarded and started up his fully fueled aircraft. Now it was a waiting game. We were served food and drink. The crew was super sweet but had no answers except to say there was a legal time limit for them to fly us. The count down was on now with few minutes to spare. I pieced together that the pilots had to be relieved so as not to risk fatigue. Anyway the legal time limit expired. By this time, we were 3 hours on the tarmac. The pilot still held out hope saying that he was trying to get replacement crew who would fly us out. We waited for another half hour. Then we heard the not so good news that we would be off boarded. But there was some good news. One, our bags would not be offloaded. Two, we could pick up hotel vouchers as we disembarked. And so we followed instructions. In the midst of such grave uncertainty it was nice to witness a flight full of troopers. My English neighbour and I made our way out of the plane, grabbed vouchers to get us to the Holiday Inn Express. 

We joined a group of Indians, appointed one man, who seemed good at following instructions, our leader. We made our way out of Terminal 5 taking the Heathrow Express to T4. It was somewhat convoluted in that we had to go to T 2,3 first and then retrace back to 4 in another train. We joked our way through a maze of tunnels and literally as a light at the end was the Holiday Inn Express, our haven for the night. It was massive. Hundreds of rooms visible over several floors through an atrium. With quiet efficiency we were handed card keys. I gathered that it was probably routine for the hotel staff to process rooms for hundreds of stranded passengers on short notice. Anyway, the buffet was closing so we had to eat before we made it to our rooms. There was salad, nice tadka daal, rice and some steamed veggies. I made myself a plate and joined two of my co- passengers at their table. I bought myself a cider and enjoyed the meal. Then to my room, a nice hot shower and bed. Put it down to clairvoyance, I had actually packed spare clothes in my carry-on! I had everything I could possibly need for an overnight stay. Odd. I had a good sleep with the temperature set to 17 degrees C. 

I woke up at 8 am, showered, made all my phone calls and meandered through an interminable hallway to the elevator down, for breakfast in the cheery dining hall.  The place was buzzing.  The waiters were harried but I witnessed grace and kindness in the middle of utter chaos.  I got my oats and vegetable sausage, a nice cup of coffee and some fruit.  Terminal 5 was a sea of individuals in fleece jackets that said "Heathrow - here to help"! An army had been deployed and no expense spared to ensure customers navigated safely through the confusion to their flights. The folks at security were patient and cheery even though they had to figure out how to get us through with boarding passes dated August 28.   I thought I should treat myself to a nice perfume to mark this day! So I splurged on a Van Cleef Pachouli, even proudly boasting to Utta on the phone. However, in my excitement to board my flight, I ended up leaving it on my seat at the Starbucks right by the gate.   I only realized this post boarding, and the crew could not get it for me since it was inside a store and not at the gate! Someone needed that perfume more than me, I said to them. They were profusely apologetic even though it was entirely my fault! To make up for my disappointment, one crew member snuck me a nice large bottle of Prosecco, another brought me two bottles of white wine and treats and everyone stopped to condole my bad fortune.  They offered that I should call Heathrow's "lost and found" when I returned.  I made a mental note.  So much kindness!

Needless to say, this adventure actually enriched my flight to India and renewed my faith in the good in all. So many new people and experiences. Also never had the energy on a plane been so good. Everyone displayed remarkable calmness and patience on both days. There were no complaints and no crying babies. An atmosphere of joy and conviviality. We felt like a tribe of chosen ones! And we were white, black, yellow and mostly brown, given our destination.  Doctors, sales people, motorcycle enthusiasts, young mothers, pregnant women, couples, young and old.  Maybe it was me, seeing what I wanted to see? Anyway, this was yet another experience the universe had thrown my way that I would never have wished for and, yet, I was so grateful for!  I landed safely with lovely memories of this unusual flight and a happy ending!

Being adaptive while making sambar...

I am visiting my friend in the country this week.  I brought my sister along because she is visiting me in London.  My small cooking escapade illustrates how I have tried to incorporate adaptiveness to the everyday mundane.  

I brought farm fresh vegetables that were beginning to languish in my fridge in London, for a potential cook-in here to our gorgeous Midlands get-away.  We ate out all day yesterday and it seemed fair we should eat in today.  But I did not want to burden our host, my best friend from my high school days.  Maybe this morning I could delight her with some South Indian fare.  So I spontaneously offered to cook. I chopped up capsicum, carrots and onions and peeled shallots.  I had to wait for tuvar daal and curry leaves which the girls were bringing in from the store.  I usually cook a big batch so my friend and her partner, a Yorkshire man who loves sambar, have enough leftover for a couple of additional meals.  Now, on her way to grandmother-hood, my friend is cooking and freezing for her pregnant offspring, a busy London based doctor who picks up the food on her trips for R and R at mummy’s. Maybe there would be enough leftover to freeze for the mum to be as well?! 

 

This time I had to vary the order in which I cooked the food. I chopped up cabbage for a nice side!  Since there was lots of it, I was a tad nervous about getting the proportion of seasoning spices right.  Cabbage not cooked properly can be rank! I seasoned it with mustard seeds, urad daal, green chillies, curry leaves, hing and salt.  The big batch got cooked no problem, as I had used just the right amount of water to cook the cabbage then raised the heat to ensure the water evaporated before I left it covered for some slow cooking.  I then sprinkled some dessicated coconut and left it covered till it was ready to be transferred to a serving dish, just before we sat down to eat.  I was thrilled that forces beyond my control had conjured up a perfect cabbage dish.  I never take for granted how, despite my imprecise approach to cooking, everything comes together for the perfect outcome.  Or maybe it’s my non critical acceptance that manifests as perfection?  In any event, the more I thrive in chaos and less I strive for perfection the more creative and daring I get to achieve surprisingly great outcomes.  I highly recommend getting out of the mind’s way! 

 

Then came the hard part, a big batch of sambar in the instant pot.   I usually cook the tuvar daal in the instant pot (IP)  and set it aside, before cooking the vegetables in the tamarind water, also in the instant pot.  This way, once the vegetables are done, the cooked daal goes in ready for the final mustard seasoning.  All achieved in IP, no fuss, no mess.  Today, I was under a time crunch.  So I went ahead with step 2 and sautéed the shallots, capsicum, onion and carrot chunks in a little oil before pouring in the tamarind water, adding sambar powder, curry leaves and salt into the IP.  I pressure cooked it with the 12 minute rice setting.  When the tuvar daal arrived I could not yet open IP, which had not released the pressure, so I took two cups of it in a vessel big enough to be placed in the spare pressure cooker.  I was adapting.  People were hungry from all the cooking smells.  This cooker, it seemed, could not deliver the cooked daal fast enough to be added into the tamarind water with vegetables.  I waited impatiently and when we opened the cooker - a disaster awaited.  I had predicted this outcome somewhat given the tuvar had not been given enough room to relax and expand, but had gone ahead and done it anyway!  Now I had to wear my adaptive hat because the tuvar daal, my key ingredient for my much awaited sambar, was half cooked and nowhere near ready to go into the tamarind water with cooked vegetables.  Some quick thinking was in order- especially given my hungry sister who had begun to nibble on salads (I perceived a form of psychological warfare here).  I was the hold up.  With some quick thinking, I poured the contents of the IP into a big steel vessel, transferred the half cooked daal into a larger vessel with more water, so it could breathe, and placed that in IP to pressure cook for 12 minutes.  Through all this, I could sense my impatience and that of the rest, mounting at this imperfection.  There was also a mess around me that I needed to clear quickly, especially given it was not my kitchen.  

But wait there was more messiness to come.  I decided to forebear through the chaos, maintaining focus and inner stillness, undeterred by the delay.  Of course the audience did go to great lengths to reassure me that they were in no rush to eat!  I forced open the IP with the daal, when it had completed the obligatory 12 minutes in the rice setting, by mercilessly venting it.  Thankfully, the daal was now perfectly cooked and just needed some mashing.  For the next move, I needed an abundance of confidence and nerves of steel.  I had to take the daal out of the IP, pour the vegetable and tamarind mixture back into the IP and mix in the daal since I needed the size of vessel as the IP steel pot.  All very clumsy, given the heat and sheer quantity.  I also had no idea whether the consistency would turn out right.  Alas, I kept the daal thick and in one bold move emptied all of it into the tamarind and vegetable liquid I had transferred to the IP  . I brought it to a boil in sauté mode and breathed a sigh of relief that years of experience had not let me down.  I prepared the seasoning on the stove with mustard seeds, red chillies, hing, methi seeds and curry leaves.  Lots of chopped coriander had gone into the boiling sambar already.  The final flourish with the seasoning gave me a sambar that ended up being exquisite.  Taste, flavour, consistency - everything! I lifted the steel pot out of the IP and poured half of its contents into a serving dish - another bold move where all of it could have missed the mark and poured over the counter.  It took confidence, an unshakeable belief that to surrender to the process with focus was all I needed to do - the rest would be taken care of by faith in my abilities, experience and a higher intelligence which took over when my mind got out of the way.  Lunch ended up being a success.  And it was all because I had focused on being adaptive throughout the process, and had deliberately not stressed over the outcome!