No Agenda, No Checklist

How can you be like a tree I was thinking as I was reading a book that my brother gave me 'How to be more Tree' ? Or rather, why would you want to? A tree's parts serve the same function across years, decades, a lifetime. We humans are a constant assortment of context switches. One minute I'm driving K to a tennis match, the next I'm on a work call from the car. Time isn't dictated by the body clock anymore — it's the watch, the calendar, the next notification.

Anyway, I hadn't even gotten around to packing my bag till the very last minute. At 9 pm the night before, I chucked in the basics I can't do without and closed the bag. Four am alarms are no fun, especially when it's freezing cold outside and, quite frankly, I love my daily routine. Leaving it for a few days was already making me second-guess the whole thing.

But boy, was I glad I went.

It was a Friday-to-Monday trip to Bali. Four of us. No agenda, no checklist. The only thing booked was accommodation at a villa that looked good on the website — pictures of a pool and a swing. How much I'd end up loving lying on that swing, looking up at the sky while dipping my toes in the pool and sipping gin — I couldn't have guessed even a day before we got there.

I love airports. They feel like transit do-nothing-by-force zones, where the only right things to do are browse through duty free, eat, and read a book. The seats on the flight were dismal — the last row, no option to lean back, right next to the toilet. It stank. A rather large man was crammed next to us making the whole thing deeply unpleasant. S and I were determined to stay positive and made up for it all by talking non-stop for a couple of hours. Then we spotted empty seats in the middle of the aircraft and jumped to take them. I read through most of *Darling Girls* — it was OK.

Landing in warm Bali, vacation vibes hit me right away. I kept tracking K's tennis match score for a few hours and it took some time to shake off the Melbourne state of mind. A was already at the airport, and we all sat down for a meal together. My falafel pastry was fluffy, non-oily, and surprisingly great for airport food. This was already topping my expectations.

The ease of being around your people — where you don't have to overthink or pretend or complicate anything in your head — is one of the greatest gifts in life I am starting to understand.

The taxi drive was remarkably easy. The streets reminded me so much of small towns around Mangalore. Cobblestones. Green everywhere. Low-ceiling shops selling everything from tea to clothes to utensils. Slanting roofs with orange tiles, humid air, carved stone and wood temple-like structures at every corner.

The villa was beautiful and we wasted no time — toes in the pool, snacks ordered in, catching up begun. All of our lives similar but not quite the same. That shared context of life in Wellington from 18 or so years ago, to being mothers, daughters, and women with dreams and hopes and ambition.

We headed to a rooftop bar at Double Six. Easy decisions — someone looked up a place, and we were in a taxi soon after. That became the rhythm for the rest of the trip. The rooftop was something else, more for the view and the vibe than anything on the menu. We got gin cocktails and waited for M. In true vacation spirit, she got a taxi straight to the bar from the airport, and I loved that so much.

Good shared plates, sunset, fireworks, cocktails. Heading home, I realised I'd not packed running tights. We spotted an outlet store near the villa and went late at night. I bought green Adidas tights — a clear deviation from monotone Lululemons.

Late-night conversations about many varied topics, easy and flowing, just like the water in the pool.

Next morning, M and I set out to run on the streets of Bali. Wary of stray dogs and main roads, but determined. It was so hot and humid I stopped at 3-something kilometres. M, to her credit, finished 5K.

The breakfast spread looked unimpressive at first, but I loved the tropical fruit platter. The food turned out good and we ended up eating the same breakfast for the rest of our days there.

Getting a massage was top of the list for all of us, so after some AI-assisted searching, we picked a place offering complimentary pick-up from the villa. Two hours of massage and facial, most of which I slept through blissfully. The other two chatted away and caught up on all things business in addition to the pampering.

We gravitated to Indian food for lunch — tasty! A disaster in the making was averted when A's fold phone dropped onto the street as we climbed out of the cab. Pure luck that no vehicle or person stepped on it in the whole minute it lay on that busy main road.

I tried drinking from a coconut straight out of the shell. It was OK.

Next stop: head massage and manicure/pedicure. We walked and scouted a few places, eventually landing in a near-new head massage parlour. It was blissful. They reached places that haven't been reached before — strong hands working all the muscles and joints on neck and shoulder. We found a cool coffee spot after, took photos, laughed silly, and admired the way our hair and skin felt after hours of pampering.

Then we went to watch Devil Wears Prada 2, despite M's reviews. She'd already watched it but sportily joined in for a second viewing. A pretty low-key mall. Clothing so cheap we had to buy. Dinner for four so cheap I checked twice that they'd charged us correctly. The movie was meh, but the company made up for it.

Reaching home late didn't feel very late. We asked the driver from that morning to take us around Ubud the next day. It felt like a very productive, very slow, very relaxing fun day — just magical how it turned out that way without a plan. We talked late into the night and had one too many gins but still slept alright.

Next morning, repeat breakfast by the pool. Then a day trip to Ubud, a good hour and a bit away.

It was fascinating to watch the districts pass one after another — handicrafts, batik, silver, woodwork, stonework. Skills from ages ago, and whole settlements built around those skills. Women designing and drawing batik prints at an emporium felt similar to watching an Indian artisan work with fabric. So skilled, so deft, so confident in their strokes.

We stopped to taste luwak coffee. I felt sad looking at the two luwak cats they had on display — I hoped the sleepiness really was nocturnal behaviour, as they claimed. There were twenty varieties of coffee and tea to taste. Coconut and avocado were flavours I'd never have guessed could be coffee. The teas ranged from a vivid blue to usual ginger, lemon, and the like. If someone had told me I might like poop coffee, I'd have stopped being friends with them — but I did like the taste of it. Fruity, less acidic. Genuinely good.

Next stop was the famous Bali swing. The drive up to it was an attraction in itself — a stretch lined with massive wooden and metal art and homeware. Admiring them, then nodding off to sleep in between, we reached the rice terraces. The only imagery I'd had of Bali was this — rice terraces. They looked grand. The swing theatrics looked touristy, but also fun. If not there, where else?

M and I decided to play along and go on the swings. A and S sipped on juice, patiently took pictures, and indulged us in the act. The swings go up so high it's almost an adventure activity — especially when the guys, so adept at getting the shot, ask you to let go of the grip and hold the long trail of your dress instead. The photos look dramatic and pretty. The adrenaline rush in doing it is something else entirely.

Lunch was at a good-looking but not-as-tasty place. Then the Ubud markets — so familiar, like alleys of small stores selling similar things, people haggling, so much like India. Earrings, bracelets, necklaces. Lots of them. We ended up in a local designer's store with fixed and reasonable prices and bought more pieces collectively than we could count. I snagged a teak cutting board, all the while quietly worrying about the cabin bag — the only luggage we'd booked for the trip.

One more shot of luwak coffee. Then back into the cab toward Seminyak, where the villa was.

The driver had warned us: after 6 pm, traffic builds up, could take two hours. We assumed he was exaggerating. The minute we got in the cab and checked on maps, reality hit. It did take that long. We ended up in an Indian restaurant, craving comfort food. Walked back to the villa — less than a kilometre on the main road, scared of stray dogs. Talked for hours. Way longer than we thought we would after that long day out.

Last morning. Complimentary 30-minute massage, decent but no match for the day before. Easy, long breakfast. Customary photos. Checked out of the villa at 1 pm and headed to Potato Head Beach Club. Luxurious. Views that will stay with me. Authentic Indonesian food, at last, tasting so good and abundant.

Then a temple — so peaceful inside, multi-coloured frangipani flowers everywhere.

Taking the taxi back to the villa for the last time as a group felt like time's up. We changed, booked a cab for S and I to the airport, and headed back home recounting all the good times and great memories we'd made together.

So glad this happened.

Bhakti

Last week, it was Ms Subbalakshmi's 108th birth anniversary - probably because of the significance of number 108 - it was more significantly visible on social media than her previous birth anniversaries. Listening to her rendition of Adi Shankaracharya's Bhaja Govindam brought back so many memories of childhood in my village. There was a bit of blurb at the start of the casette I remember from then - a distinct male voice that spoke about Bhatki. How appropriate, I thought- a coincidence when I was attempting to summarize what I understand of Bhakti as part of my Yoga assignment. Bhakti is a concept deeply rooted in devotion, and its etymology from the Sanskrit root "Bhaj" means devotion, indicating a heartfelt connection to something greater urself. When we truly understand the greatness of something—whether it's the knowledge, love or life itself—it stirs a deep feeling within us - that feeling is Bhakti.  It is in the rendition of a song, as much in caring for a child, or feeling that indescribable love toward another. It is in being completly present in the flow of an activity as you go about your day at work, home. It is letting urself be immersed - single minded all consuming experience. It is not required to be anything profound - it is just in the way your mind forgets everything else when u meet the person you love. It is in loosing track of time stirring a pot of meal or forgetting where you are when u start singing a song. State of flow - is I think the closest term to Bhakti. When I think about it that way - what is the point of a life if there is no sense of deep connection and focus? This is what I find fascinating about scriptures- in the context of Bhakti- we all experience it, we have found new-age terms in productivity and self-help books across generations for it but the idea is the same as it was defined that many 1000 years ago - It is an intrinsically motivated state of intense concentration toward a clear goal that makes you both happy and skilled at the same time. 

 It teaches us the importance of acceptance, urging us to see both the positive and negative experiences in life as part of bigger picture which we cant comprehend yet. Even when we face hardships like losing a job or dealing with health issues, Bhakti suggests seeing these as opportunities, or "prasada". It’s not about becoming passive or complacent, but rather about acknowledging that some things are beyond our control. This acceptance should forster inner growth, aligning our thoughts and actions.Shri Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita, discusses the balance between different forms of practice, sacrifice, and surrender at length - the tools that will aid you in accepting and staying focused.

The famous 2 paths ( the choice between red and blue pill for the Neo of Matrix world - yes I love analogies!). At a certain point in the conversation between Arjuna and Krishna, after Arjuna's ego is broken in Vishwaroopa darshana, he becomes ready and open to experience his life in full. At this point, he asks Krishna - which is a better path to take to become a Bhakta so I can state of flow and joy forever. Krishna lays out 2 choices - one of direct connection and worship to Saguna Bhagavan and another path of believing in Nirguna - i.e formless i.e finding the divine in everything around you. The elaboration of the paths and challenges on the second path form a signifcant part of Chapter 12. For a beginner, he then simplifies and offers a definitive guide to being Bhakta (when I say Bhakta now, I am referring to the spiritual term for Flow) Develop these 40 characteristics as below and that is it. 

I have spent an inane amount of time thinking about these characteristics. So relevant, so appropriate for today.

The key elements of Bhakti  are śravaṇa (listening, kīrtana (praying)smaraṇa (remembering lessons),pāda-sevana (translates to service to the feet, concept though is to have a sense of service while doing anything - this is probably where servant-leader term came from in Agile terminology?),archana (worshipping),namaskar or vandana (bowing down, conceptually give up ego),dāsya (service conceptually, know that there is more to know from the knowers),sākhyatva (friendship),ātma-nivedana (translates to self-surrender, concept though is to let oneself go completely).

Ultimately, Bhakti is the path of simplicity and focus, not of distraction. It encompasses everything, much like how one’s longing for clarity and purpose can be compared to the desire for a single, essential thing, rather than getting lost in many pursuits. It needs to be beyond ur ego and helps you feel peaceful -make you feel like everything is around me as it should be and I understand it.

My Yoga teacher training journey

 I started training formally to be a Yoga teacher today.

I want this to be a long journey. Like how I started training for a marathon.

Drawing more parallels on it, I had been running short distances upto half marathon (21km) for years before I considered training for a marathon. Similarly, I have been practicing yogasanas for a number of years now. I also have a liking for listening to discourses on Hindu philosophies - through books and podcasts over the years. However, I now feel comfortable starting on a fomal journey to be a Yoga teacher.

The community seems knowledgeable, genuine and one I'd like to learn from. 

The founder of Vasudeva Kriya Yoga is Rajendraji - as we address him. 

I find his talks very engaging and it shows if anyone is truly passionate - his words show wisdom - acquired and mastered through decades. There is a word for this, called Saadhana. The thing I like most about this school is their emphasis on the spiritual learning. Having attended the classes under Ki at Camberwell for an year now, I am drawn to take this up.

I do wonder how I will fit this in my day and if it will take away from other already engaging and cut down set of activities. But hey, what is life if not for new challenges! 

After all, I don't run as much and dont intend to sign up for more marathons - they were great but I have a feeling of been there, done that. Music is another dear, going inwards activity but I treat it as a hobby and may be it'll complement my spiritual learning. 

I have a mentor N who has a similar day job as mine and is a great advocate of this school and speaks highly of the positive change its made for him. I'm yet to meet my other mentor G but she seems like a nice person to know, from the brief interactions. From running into this group in Dec 2022 Jells Park to signing up to be a teacher Feb 2024 ...am excited! Lets see where this takes me. 

I have a primary goal of being healthy in mind and body, which I expect will flow directly to K and complement her tennis training. I want her to have the mental mettle and fortitude that I have at 42 to start from that tender formative teenage years. 

Forward a few months into training:

Today I handled a tricky situation - we beginner teachers are all expected to start teaching a 30 min online class in about a month's time independently. We each are assigned a mentor and I have V to handhold me. I like his approach and the structure to fit in all aspects of the class in that morning 30 min class. I am not due to start taking my own class for another 3 weeks, but today V did not turn up at the set time. I jumped into my usual mode of I can handle this without escalating approach and sought some help to start the session as host and took the ppl that were logged in through the class. I cut it short by a few minutes because I did not how to track time/pace but it felt so good!  Like my training wheels off the bike for the first time ! 

I am drawn to teaching. I love teaching K some concepts, at work I am always the patient one explaining how what I know works to new starters, engaging with clients that need more than a visual/ppt. So I am not surprised I have started to love teaching Yogasanas. However, what I am now mastering is only effective instruction delivery. I have much to learn and I do that by observing other senior teachers and Rajendraji.

The Bhagvad gita classes are a mandatory part of the course. We have started learning(?) chapter 12. I dont know if learning is the right word - its more like internalizing. and OMG its Fascinating with capital F. Again, my favourite part is the story at the start of each class. Rajendraji starts off with a story from Mahabharatha and then takes a thread off that story to link it to the shlokas in the chapter.

I am cataloging the notes I take here. I dont believe these are structured for sharing with the wider community yet, but may be towards the end of my training course or when the structure comes - which should happen naturally when time is apt.

I am memorizing Chapter 12 verses - its smaller one in comparison  - 20 verses and also one that is very relatable. Memorizing is a challenge ! something I was a master of back in school :D

The pronunciations are like a game for me - My love for words continues, only this time they are Sanskrit words. May be some day I'll learn more of that, picking off from where I stopped at high school.

Few more months in:

Have done a few assignments now. I did them a bit rushed as I feel I have a lot to learn before answering the deep questions- may be I'll revisit the same questions in an year's time and see if my answers come out more baked. Sunday classes with Rajendraji are both K and my favourite but it is a matter of schedule juggling on days when she has a match to play. Her tennis journey is always going to be my priority, so I am comfortable with the choice to attend online. In chapter 12 of BG, Krishna provides some options for a devotee to pursue - Most effective is direct association , if that does not work for a devotee then a few more options but if all else is a no-go then attributing the outcomes of everyday actions of the devotee to Krishna/universe is also a path. So I'm extrapolating that and while I understand not being there in person is forgoing the most effective path that is available to me, I still choose to learn - even if online.

Another milestone - I took an in person 1.5 hours class this week. Needless to say, the thrill of it is keeping me smiling all week. I prepared a lesson plan - wrote down a set of asanas to perform lying down, sitting and standing. Refered Rajendraji's Divinity in Yoga for benefits and the WHY we do certain asanas. One of the times at work recently, I zoomed out and practiced the anuloma viloma pranayama for exactly 2 minutes and it diffused the anxiety, helped me go back to the meeting and speak up confidently. These are all the tools I am picking up in my arsenal, metaphorically speaking. Like Arjuna's batthalike( I know learn to type in kannada keyboard!)  I love Bhagvadgita classes and the analogies of it extending to all aspects of my day. Be it talking to K on long drives to and from matches - coaching her mentally, discussing with Prash at home, talking to mom/dad or other friends. I end up narrating a story or 2 and generally ppl respond positively. My mom thinks its a bit too much at this age to take up scriptures seriously but dad is happy to talk philosophy concepts.Anyway, the 1.5 hour class is a test in mental concentration. I had a few extra fill-in asanas in case I timed incorrectly. The shlokas are set standard - I did not experiment with it. The topic I chose to talk about was on understanding the shlokas we chant at the start and end of the class. The feedback I received was that it was a good class. Not many students feel comfortable to share feedback to an instructor I think. Have not seen anyone share any feedback on what not to do. K though had a bunch of useful feedback for me - asanas that were too simple or too complex - how I did not talk about variations in one. How my voice did not modulate adequately. How I rushed and ran out of breath in Suryanamaskaras etc. Overall she said she was proud I took the opportunity to lead the class today instead of choosing to ask another senior teacher to step in.  Afterall, teaching is the best way to learn isnt it. I am thankful for the incidental mentor I have found in P now. My original mentors seem difficult to reach out but I have naturally gravitated to seeking feedback from P and find him very genuine and humble - qualities to emulate from seniors.

Another month in.

I am more and more comfortable with the learning now. At the start of the course, I'd hoped music fits in this and it did eventually! for Guru poornima, I put my hand up to take the lead in setting up practice sessions for other teachers. I learnt the shlokas, I experimented with a few raagas , researched and set it to Revathi raaga which is the raaga to evoke Bhakthi and hence commonly used in chants -I learnt. I recorded and shared with the group, set up zoom sessions 3 times a week, made a few friends in the community now. Ppl that are humble, open to learning and encouraging of my initiative even though this is year 1 for me here.  As with any community, I have come to realise the social dynamics dont change. A few things I realised on this made it clear to me that I am better off sticking to my natural self that is a bit distant from the crowd, very slow to make new friends and leave most relationships as acquaintances. The event was as good as any other community event like the koota ones back in Akl. I am glad I attended and managed the shlokas part adequately while juggling Lakshmi's visit.

New area is Upanishads study. It is such a brilliant concept upa- ni - shad - Comes from gurukul days centuries ago when a student sat closely at the feet of a teacher and imbibed knowledge that was almost whispered to them.

End of 8 month course 

•  The course provided invaluable lessons, with the most significant being a sense of an "upgrade" in life's journey, similar to moving from economy to business class. Consistency and practice with *Shraddha* will make the journey more comfortable and meaningful.
• Gained the understanding that there is a choice and specific tools to add life to years, I will Age but not grow old - I aim to maintain a childlike curiosity to continue learning.
• Recognized the power and choice to influence the community, starting with family members (K and dad).
• Scriptures, especially Vedanta and Upanishads, have universal appeal and relevance at all stages of life, not just post-retirement.
• Improved pronunciation, recollection, and recitation of shlokas brought joy.
• Physically my back is not hunched anymore. 
• My gut feeling is proving right more often now than before. 

 So, even though my teacher training course is going to complete in the next couple of weeks, I feel my journey of learning to be a student for life is only starting now - so much to learn but am certain to grow.

Leo

May be u r the fourth dimension of my life, helping me on my journey of growth. 

May be u r my need for new love. 

May be you are distraction. 

Whatever u r, I know ur name before I know you.

Routeburn track

Great walks of New Zealand - when I first heard of it all those years ago, I found it amusing that in a land so beautiful and pretty how can anyone classify some walks as better than the others. Eventually after reading more about them and walking sections of a few of them like Abel tasman national park and Tongariro national park, I realised that these indeed deserve to be classified separately as Great Walks. Naturally, the desire to "do a great walk" has been on our list ever since, and so when E asked if we wanted to join in to trek the Milford track, we said yes without having to think about it. K is now 10 years old and will of course join us on a multi day backpacking trek we'd both decided individually in our minds and when one of us said it out loud, the other said "of course, she'll come with us and its still months away in December, surely we can train her for it". So we confirmed yes it was going to be 8 of us and a kid. This was in May earlier this year. In June the DoC huts website opened for booking huts on the great walks for the season and in less than a minute, all the huts on Milford track were booked. E was up refreshing the website on the other end of the world while we were asleep and she booked the next track on the list and that is how we signed up for walking the "Routeburn Track". We were going to start from  The Divide and end the trek near Glenorchy after 3 days somewhere during Christmas is all that registered in my mind. We had holidays and marathon training coming up and I slotted this end of the year activity more as a catch up with E and M after ages than the great walk.Slowly through the months a whatsapp group got created, someone booked accomodation in Te Anau for the day before the start of the walk and someone else booked an apartment in Queenstown for the day after the walk. We all booked our flight tickets to and from Queenstown. Someone booked transport from Queenstown to Te Anau to The Divide and back from Routeburn Shelter to Queenstown. Come December, post birthday celebrations, the walk became a topic of daily discussion at home. K and I watched vlogs and DoC information about the track and that's when I realised what the real deal was going to be... an alpine trek of 33 Km over 3 days, staying in huts without access to showers. Suddenly the brilliant idea of taking a 10 year old along with us did not seem so brilliant at all. Nevertheless, we got into action mode and started planning what needed to be done. Getting hiking shoes, poles, appropriate clothing and a million little things that should all fit into a 40 litre backpack. K and I went and shopped for my backpack and her hiking boots around a week before the D-day, Prash borrowed his backpack from a friend the day before we flew out. We 3 did a few walks in the evenings carrying weights and the others in the group did their own thing to train. A few calls to decide on a few food items we had to carry and a couple of trials later, I made enough dry huli avalakki mix and we bought some packets of dehydrated food bags. Protein bars that K and I tried at home tasted unappetizing and so we stuck to the store bought ones. R and A ordered in what seemed like truck load of methi thepla and we split them to load everyone's backpacks evenly. E and M arrived from Zurich and we caught up for dinners and discussed the logistics of the walk amidst catching up. K was super thrilled and it was feeling festive/communal in a very happy kind of way. Then the weather as always in NZ ,esp Fiordland where the Routeburn track is, started to seem unlike summer. Heavy rain and storm a few days before we were to start was not a very good sign. We now had to be ready to pull out of the walk bcoz it would not be fun for anyone and extremely risky too to take K along if the wet rainy weather continued to stay or got worse. Convincing K that it was ok for her and me to stay back in Te Anau if needed proved to be a difficult discussion but she agreed to it eventually. There was not much we could do other than be prepared for rainy conditions and so we repacked the backpacks which suddenly seemed way too heavy. I was more nervous than excited when we reached Queenstown. K started talking to S, E, M, Ma, A and R on the bus to Te Anau and did not stop till after we were all back and everyone left to their cities. Loading up on carb heavy Indian dinner and catching up as a group after almost a decade it felt like nothing had really changed from Wellington days. So many memories we recollected .... of random drinking parties, karaokes, costume parties, farewells, celebrations, festivals, movies, everyday waterfront lunches and many other things we managed to do as a group. Somehow going on a great walk was never a priority then ;) 

The highlights of the walk - single file walking, M and Prash daring to go below a freezing waterfall and nearly having a brain freeze. Dipping into cold lake and sleeping in bunker beds in our sleeping bags. Walkign over unmarked paths, boulders, mirror lakes and having the longest second day walk as the hut was much farther than what we all thought initially. Breathtaking scenary, never ending chatter, group dance to "juice kudithiya" a few ppl going to a summit trek and reaching late to a hut breifing on day 2. Day 3 in the forest and running to catch the bus back to Glenorchy. Pictures and videos to freeze these awesome memories in our minds. I remember ordering copious amount of food at a restaurant so much that the waitress suggested we hold off till we finishe eating to order more. Going separate ways to the different cities we came from, we made promises to repeat this every few years and choose treks across the globe. Everest base camp may be, Ladakh may be , Milford trek may be or who knows when or where next! 

2022 and a new year

What's new about another new year- the fact that it came by so fast - as if the years are accelerating and gaining momemtum. I certainly felt like I had no control over whatever was happening all through 2022.

I grew up, turned 40, gained weight, lost hair and changed in ways I never imagined possible. Like I have gone back a lot many years but lost my optmisim and energy along the way. 

I also discovered the only company I enjoy the most is my own along with reading books. Books that are a consistent in my life. Wrapping up an year has always felt good. Recounting the good things, the achievements, the things we overcame and triumphed over. This year though, felt like I was short changed, like I did the hard work and all the slogging but never quite got any fruit of that effort. That surely must feel frustrating and on that count I feel normal.

The thoughts wander and settle in patterns...I learnt a lot about the people around me. I have a lot of friends when I am well and good. When I am agreeable and happy. I tested that theory a bit, some circumstances by chance and depressingly found out that I have not many friends. Not even the unshakable ones have shaken and moved away from me the minute I was not able to give the way I had. That hit me hard. That life is so unfair and so unforgiving when I stumble. I have only me to help me and pick me up. I am good in a support role as long as I don't need much.In arguments I need to cry and nearly die to be acknowledged. So I won't argue at all. I asked for respect, just a little bit of it and that was too much to ask. I became cynical this year. But that my dear is what turning 40 is about some would say.

I also had a lot of parties to celebrate turning 40. I went away with a few to Hunter valley and drank copious amounts of wine in September. Some of my girl friends from Auckland and Wellington came to celebrate with me for a weekend in October. My parents came early November and made it a point to ring in the birthday with me. I had a big get together organised at home for a large group of ppl in Melbourne. Khushi laughs at me saying I might end up having 40 different celebrations before the next birthday! 

For all that went bad in 2022, I also had a set of good to balance it out. There is work to be done in 2023. I dont feel settled in Melbourne after over an year. It does not make me feel warm by wrapping itself around me the way NZ made me feel. For now, I am in a national park with my parents and my daughter is growing up to be a fine young lady with a sensible taste in picking books and music. I have much to be thankful for and think about how I can heal myself to feel as good I want to feel. After all, life's experiences of the year gone by should be shaping how one chooses to respond and feel to situations life presents in the upcoming year, isnt it ?

Moving to Melbourne

Uprooting ourselves and moving to a different city to live and thrive has been a pattern. When we moved to Auckland from Bangalore in 2015, the plan was to move out of Auckland in a few years. Of course we forgot all about that as we started rooting ourselves in all things Auckland had to offer. Khushi grew up to be a fine company and having time and space for our individual pursuits, we all thrived beyond what we could imagine when we moved to Auckland. 

However, when the call to decide came knocking on our doors, we did not struggle or think too hard mostly because it aligned with our plan from 2015.

The move itself however was drastically different to the past ones. There is always a lot of tears .. the time I moved to the hostel from my parent's home. The time I moved back to my parent's house from my hostel...when I moved to Chennai to work and from there on, back to bangalore, from bangalore to wellington, wellington to Bangalore , bangalore to auckland. All the previous times I have known these were moves by choice and in pursuit of what I've deemed different and better for me and my family.

The excitement of the move was really low this time. Mostly because of the fears of covid looming large on our heads. We still took the plunge and we planned to get to the new city in 2 months. Exactly to the date, we did arrive ...to a locked down city, empty airport lounges and streets. Been a full week now and its hard to recollect the activity packed last 8 or so weeks.

A few things were different this time. We both had secured jobs before moving which helped us focus on doing everything else we wanted to do easier.

First things of order were figuring out school situation. This is somewhat ongoing though we largely know how it will pan out in the next few months. For now, she continues her school online till the end of the term. As we started sharing the news of our move, we realised the number of ppl we knew well enough to catch up over coffee/lunch/dinner. I felt happy and grateful each time someone offered to catch up in person. I practically ate out every single meal for about 2 weeks at one point. Work colleagues that have become friends as the years have progressed.. ppl that have helped me and those that I have helped. Friends that are family who made time every chance and let us soak up the warmth and comfort. This made it impossibly hard to leave them all in one hand and on the other it's the spring board of support we will use till we find our feet here. Teachers at both schools, Khushi's friends from primary, intermediate and all the tennis clubs. Her  DKN( daily kids news)  friends! She has had a great time since the end of June with a whole heap of playdates, sleepovers and impromptu catch ups. It was very important for us that she spent that time with her lifelines and said proper byes and made plans to continue to be in touch however she desired.

The next was to decide what we do with our things... Quotes from shipping companies started coming through and none of them were able to give us a fair indication of when the container would arrive in Australia. Most said roughly 8-10 weeks but with covid raging, it could be double that too. After giving it some thought, we decided not to take any furniture/car/large items. We'd need them almost immediately on arrival for comfort and even a couple of weeks without things like a couch or bed would make life difficult. Again prioritizing comfort over everything else, we started selling our things on trademe. All of this was early days and the things we rarely used. 

We gave away a lot of things to the Salvation army. Quality clothes, small furniture, mattresses, Kitchen, bathroomware. Anything we had in excess and could shred basically.

It felt very satisfying -the sorting and giving away process. I also did a lot of pay it forward for slightly larger items that could not be transported easily to the charities.

This meant a constant barrage of ppl coming to the house and picking up items. Facebook marketplace was a revelation. Most things in the house were in great condition and ppl who picked them up really seemed happy. 

So we had a plan for things we did not want to take with us. Sell, donate and whatever remains call and arrange for removal truck to pick up in the last week.

Next was how do we take what we want given shipping was going to be impractical time wise for us. Extra bags on the flight with us and unaccompanied air cargo it was.

After what felt like days of iterating through and making calls, looking up online and gathering info as we went, we learnt a whole lot about air cargo and how it works.

We decided to DIY packing, dropping off, clearing customs and picking up at our destination. Freight forwarders either refused international cargo or asked us to pay 10 times the price due to very low volumes these days. We started packing things we wanted to bring with us to Australia. Buying the cartons, bubble wraps , tapes was all a detailed time consuming activity.450 kgs in 20 odd boxes.. it was all very exhilirating. We packed the boxes- labelled and started organising, cataloguing the best we could. Sold one car a week before and in the last week leading up to our flight, it started to feel real. We had friends from Wellington come over to say byes..get togethers filled with laughter, food, photos and gifts. Khushi and I bought and packed gifts for the closest of our friends and gave it to them with hand written cards. My social circle was the biggest and strongest it's ever been, its also been a source of strength and support for me. Found tenants for the house, tidied up every nook and corner, organised bank accounts, did 1000 little things. This has by far got to be the most organised and planned move we have made. I was so proud that we made it possible to go get the trophy from Indian high commision for Khushi for winning a Yoga competition, a few hours before our flight. It was all perfect. I knew where to find the things I needed for travel, immediately before and after too...Up until we parked the car to pick K up from dinner at Saravana Bhavan. It was for 15 min that we parked a friend's car. 

When we came back, the window of the backseat was shattered - we dint even realise it was broken into for a couple of minutes. Khushi's bag with her school laptop, cards and notes from her friends was gone. My handbag - the perfectly packed with everything to find including a water bottle for the morning flight was gone. I blocked my credit cards on the phone immediately but had lost a few hunderd dollars. I had a bundle of cash, my cosmetics, key documents and copies of everything needed for travel - a really big handbag - was gone. It was unbelievable and I completely lost it. We'd parked the car - a secure paid carpark we parked in almost once a week, given how frequently we went to SVB. We started walking up the street and Prash for some reason turned around and ran back to the car and fetched his passport pouch. I kept making fun of him sayign he's pararnoid of travel after 2 years ! 

We had friends help us out that night and drop us off to the airport the following morning. Landing in an near empty airport in Melbourne, we made our way to the airbnb in Boxhill in a big truck.

The first few days in the townhouse was spent on calls to Insurance company, Driver's license changes, police follow up in NZ etc.

Depressing - is the word that comes to my mind. We started working a couple of days later and managed to shop for everything including a new car and a rental home all online. A one of a kind experience and a story may be Khushi will remember to recollect later in life.

Thus we started a life in Melbourne - one of the popular iconic cities of the world.

Sunday evenings

 A very different Sunday evening now. The earliest memories of Sunday evenings are watching a movie at 4 pm. Driving back from Madihally. Those were my primary school Sunday evenings. The next phase I have a clear memory of is from my engineering hostel days. The kitchen was closed after lunch on Sundays to let the cook have a rest. On Sundays that I was not visting Mangalore/parents or my paati/Uncle's house, my friends and I used to pick a restaurant near the hostel to explore. Birthday parties- used to be postponed till Sunday evening. We'd all dress up (whatever that meant back then!) and if there was no crowd, my roomate and I used to go to a specific restaurant and talk endlessly as we did.

In Chennai, the Sunday evenings were mostly at Besant nagar beach with my bestie. Though instead of talking endlessly, I spent most of that time looking longingly at the sea- that seemed to somehow know - that the dreams I held deeply in my heart then were never going to see the light of day and would remain grey just like the ocean after sun has set.

These activities filled my soul in those phases of my life.

I can't remember Sunday evening rituals in NZ or since 2006...as Khushi and us grew up, it changed from dancing to songs on youtube, spending time in crowded playgrounds, my long runs while training for marathons phase and more recently watching TV with good food and discussing or arguing about things as a family - getting lost in the business of doing life.

In the last few weeks, I have found it necessary to spend time with and on myself. To feed my soul again, so to say. So that led me to practicing music and additionally contemplating on concepts from Yoga class. Music classes over the last year have helped me find that place of joy possible only the right note+rhythm+emotion comes through one's voice. Yoga classes started as a desire that I have nursed for a while to reach a higher level of strength and flexibility in the body and mind. Learning these art forms has pushed me out of my comfort zone. It has humbled me and provided me satisfaction when I do make progress. It is relaxing yet falls in my "productive and progress" bucket. 

Gokulashtami

As a child, my favorite festivals were Gokulashtami and Deepavali. Gokulashtami because it's universally appealing that a child God overpowered demons and was looked upon by the adults of a village to help them in times of trouble. It was also the one festival that stretched the most in duration in our house. Mom's kitchen started bustling with activity from weeks before in prep for chakli, kodbale, sweet undes etc. We'd get the broken trial chaklis, the not so round peanut laddoos in the lead up to the festival day. The evening of the festival, Dad would give us chores like cutting the thread to different lengths to tie the sweets and savouries to the mantapa. My brother and I looked forward to this evening so much and worked well as a team. The mantapa used to look mesmerizing with colored light bulbs, aroma of fried and sweet food mixed with fragrant flowers. At night, we'd all wear new clothes, dress up and install the idol and look at the pooje in awe. A short, simple and the only pooje ritual I remember my parents performed in the whole year. 

Festival lunches and dinners were always elaborate and had predictable favorite food items. Every year mom would make something my brother or I or Dad would have expressed desire to eat as an addition. We almost always had guests. Someone not celebrating in their house because they are mourning the loss of a loved one or someone that has been busy to prep or just come over to our house because festivals were about family and good food as much as they were about God in my parents' household. 

The mantapa stayed put for 3 or 5 days. Every night my brother and I would take turns to switch the lights on/off. Every morning we'd both wake up and rush to see if little Krishna came to life and ate something that was dangling in the mantapa. The heavy fruits like apple or a grape from a bunch would have fallen down on to the bed of flowers and we'd invariably say see Krishna's eaten that! We both of course knew it was not true but it did not deter us from this activity year on year. By the day mantapa came down, I remember feeling sad and mom would typically take it down when we were at school so Krishna would magically have gone back to the devaramane and the dwindled flowers and fruit all gone. The fried sweet and savory food though lasted weeks after! I did not appreciate how much effort it took to make those, then. Today, I made a traditional festival meal that my grandmother would call very simple but in my household is considered elaborate. I involved K as a helper in the kitchen, Prash gave her a few tasks to do around the version of mantapa we set up. She drew Krishna hejje- baby Krishna's feet from the doorstep to the mantapa. I will wipe a step or 2 out tonight before she wakes up in the morning. She'll look for the steps and point out the missing ones and say look Krishna's walked on that and erased the chalk step. We will both know it's not true but it won't matter 😊. 

I like this festival as a grown up now. The shlokas, songs and smell of agarbhatti makes it as special as it was when I was child. 

2021 - An year of Losses

I lost a lot last year.

My father-in-law.

My grandmother.

My connection with friends as I moved cities

My ability and eventually desire to run long distances.

My belongings in a car break-in.

My father-in-law:

Stories are easy to share when the end is known. There's no more ambiguity in the details. There is no more a possibility of a different ending. As the last doors of hope shut and grief took hold with certainity, I was sad beyond words.

Loss of a person is a void we try to fill with memories, slowly the good light hearted moments sift up to the top and we consume sips of it, like the first coffee in the morning. I recollect many such and they bring a smile mostly....the conversation with him the day I got married was us talking about how 'father-in-law' is a befitting name given he was a lawyer - and him making faces at me saying it shud be 'father-by-law' but who cares, u r as good as my daughter now, lets leave the law out. How he managed to talk to me - amidst the flame and smoke and a 1000 voices in that marriage hall, with my mother-in-law ailing in the sidelines, I don't know. But I knew he meant it and told me that because he wanted to - at that precise moment. He was like that - deliberate and calculated - in every action, every conversation.

My earliest memories of him are from when I was in 9th standard- uncle used to come home with dad after work some days for an evening snack. He exuded power! commanding respect wherever he went, confident in his stride, poetic with his words, mature in his thoughts, caring in his actions.How we went from there to here, I will never understand but a part of me will miss looking up to him as I did from those days.

My grandmother.

My earliest memory of her is from link road house as akkayya ajji.Coming home from school was more fun when we had grandparents visiting us. Dili, me, aakkayya ajji and thatha used to play chauka baara or pagde. At night when we were young children, she used to start telling a story or a song and she always fell asleep before we did 😃.

I remember summer holidays in Madihalli and paati doing sagni floor, also sitting outside dressed up every evening and talking to everyone on their way to the temple. Rest of their visits to 15th cross and 8th cross house is blur in my mind as I think Dili and I were busy with school+ activities. The next clear memory of paati is in athe's house after thatha was gone. Patiently tending to my niece and being deeply involved in TV serial characters and enjoying variety of food that either she or athe cooked. In all these memories, I don't remember her being rushed or flustered at all... Be it working in the kitchen or doing any other chore. Even the pace and pitch at which she talked seemed controlled, never too excited or animated. She was always calm if not smiling and her face hardly ever tensed. She took her time and did things at her own pace. Much like how she spent her full time with dad and mom before passing away. Am so sorry for our loss Dad and losing ur mother no matter at what age, must be very difficult. Of course with time life adjusts to the absence of her persona I know. I feel better already on day 4 and acceptance of her natural end is going to be easy too, much like how easy was to interact with her when she was alive.

Moving away from friends in Auckland- 

When someone asks do you have family here, it's impossible to say no when we have you all wrapped around us like family. Thank you for being with us during our laughs and cries, the good and bad times. There's a popular saying- actually a line from a poem.. It goes like this: 

Iruvudellava bittu irududaredege thudivude jeevana.. And roughly translates to... essence of life is discounting everything we have and desiring for what we don't yet have. Looks like every few years we crave for a change of this nature to chase new experiences and we give into our urge to move to explore and travel.Auckland, Kannada Koota, shaale all these have added so many dimensions to our growth and experiences over the last few years. Khushi's developed her personality growing up amidst great friendships and love she's recieved here.

We have created and curated some great memories we will take with us now. And am sure those memories are going to help us get through the next few months while we find our footing in a new city.

Other:

Amongst other things losing the ability to run long distances hit me hard - things we take for granted until we can't! and then try to compensate for it in other ways, replace it with suboptimal options, struggle with substitutes until u stumble upon something else that can bring equal joy and calm. I dont know if that's yoga but atleast I feel like the struggle has stopped.

Car break-in - unheard of and shocking! how terrifying it was, I can't even imagine now....why Prash went back to the car and picked up the passports alone, I won't be able to reason but will for a long time be thankful to whatever sparked that thought in his mind. Auckland went into lockdown the day after we left and dint open borders for over 6 months, after all that effort we put into moving, I'd be a wreck if I had to stay back because someone stole our stuff.

Our life in Melbourne started in an Airbnb, explaining to the insurance company that we really are filing for a claim half an hour before our insurance was set to expire and have never had to claim before....