Word addiction

I think during my childhood and growing years, I have had this strange habit of reading while having food. It was an interesting habit especially of savouring the food and the words at the same time. At times, this was a way of getting past the reality of bland food during Lent times. Staying vegetarian for around fifty-six long days was unbearable in childhood though one had to do it out of obedience. However, on growing up, this religious habit of staying away from non-vegetarian food became completely out of fashion.

Even in my twenties, I would reach out for pickle jars on the dining table just for reading the print so that I keep myself occupied while eating. It's not that I don't know what's in the pickle; I guess it's a habit or rather an addiction to printed words. This might extend to the information on creams, food products, cleaning solutions, toothpastes and so on. There are some curious instances where one might encounter an error and burst out laughing just like when I read the label on a face cleanser: Apply on a cotton pad every morning. Or boards on the road like the one for the Dry-Cleaning Shop that reads Dying, Cleaning and others. 

Then there are some days of reading spree, when one might abandon connections with the external world so that one might step into the magical world of books. After buying a kindle reader in 2017, this habit of reading has become so addictive as one can read whenever you want whatever you want. One looks with pride at the verbal worlds explored and the journeys made, all sitting at your favourite armchair.

This act of stepping into the unknown can bring unexpected delights, such as feeling the touch of earth on your feet, remembering the feel of how the bark of a tree or your lover's limbs felt like on your soft hands or relishing the game of lovemaking with the one you love. It might bring unexpected delights from nature such as the pleasant full moonlight night or cascades of flowing water or the fresh life-giving air of verdant canopies. But the memory of a world full of adventure that you read in a book beckons you  to a world similar to the one  Lucy stepped into right from her wardrobe. 

Empath: The Essential Guide to Developing Your Psychic Abilities, Protecting Your Energy and Thriving as a Sensitive Person in an Overstimulating World

Empath: The Essential Guide to Developing Your Psychic Abilities, Protecting Your Energy and Thriving as a Sensitive Person in an Overstimulating World by Vica Maya 

One of the problems that affect a person in today’s world is an overburdening of negative energy that you receive from surroundings and from the people you meet. This can create emotional imbalances especially if the person is very sensitive. Now, in her book, Empath: The Essential Guide to Developing Your Psychic Abilities, Protecting Your Energy and Thriving as a Sensitive Person in an Overstimulating World , the author Vica Maya points out some of the techniques that can be used by empaths in order to protect your energy and to find balance in a life filled with unforeseen negativity and trauma. 

Who is an empath? An empath is someone who is highly sensitive to the emotions and energy of others; more correctly an emotional sponge as Dr. Judith Orloff says. Empathy means the ability to walk a mile in someone’s shoes and it denotes the ability to understand what the other person is experiencing. When you are empathetic to people in need of your support, you are doing a good deed but you might put others before you and might suffer from distress as a result. This might lead to a burnout as you might be drained of your emotional energy. Here, in her book Vica Maya, throws light into the personality of an empath as a giver and not a taker leading to certain amounts of distress and discomfort emotionally and physically. 

In the book, Vica Maya speaks of ways in ways the lost energy can be replenished through various methods such as getting touch with yourself and by reconnecting yourself to the natural world. She gives some wonderful methods to protect your energy and to heal yourself by surrounding yourself with love and light. So rather than getting completely exhausted by absorbing the negative energy around you, you can create a balance by replenishing yourself by cleansing your aura or by spending some alone time or by meditating. So, the key to preventing burn-out is by getting recharged through flow activities or by spending time in nature. 

She also points out how many of the empaths though burdened by oversensitivities are blessed with psychic abilities such as clairvoyance, clairsentience, clairaudience and claircognizance. She describes the ways in which an empath can channel into the energy of the Universe and can live guided by trusting one’s intuition. 

Nature has the power to heal all the wounds of negativity and the author lists an interesting set of techniques to replenish your emotional energy. She also speaks of the ways in which an empath can create strong boundaries and heal oneself emotionally and spiritually. This self-help book is not just another book that you will read and forget; it is more like a workbook that can read again and again in order to find ways to connect with your heart’s wisdom and to the natural world. It is a must read for sensitive people as it helps you understand your personality and talks of the ways to regain your positivity in a today’s busy world.  

Summer Rains

In the rising heat of April, you dream of the monsoons, the waterbodies that give you comfort and tall glasses of cool and tasty drinks that offer you solace. You read up old lores on how the ancient Indian musician Tansen made rain with his raga Megh Malhar and the power of music to bring about change in nature. And, there you are lost watching a video online of an Indian musician sitting under a banyan tree singing this raga and in ten minutes, it starts raining all of a sudden. 

On the way back from work, you look with longing at the river nearby and long to immerse yourself in its soothing waters till you no longer remember the sizzling heat of summer. In the orchards, you watch how the waterspouts drizzle the plants to prevent them from turning wan. And, you long to play in the water like you did in a long lost childhood near the River Green. 

The fruit heaps on the wayside shop beckon you with their fragrances-guavas, watermelons, lime and mangoes. When you look at these and think of the cool sorbets that you can make with crushed ice and some mint leaves. Yet, sometimes when no fruits are available, usually resort to your traditional summer drink of buttermilk that you enjoy making at home mixing the right amounts of buttermilk, shallots  ginger, curry leaves, jeera powder and salt. And, you wonder how some simple ingredients available at home can create a magical drink that makes you forget the woes of this scorching season. 

In the lazy evenings, you smear yourself with turmeric and sandalwood in a routine to beat the heat. The sun shows on your face and in the exposed parts of your body way too much and the paste cools you down and you prepare for your nightly sleep, though you might have to get up and pour water on yourself twice or thrice in the night to do so. 

In this summer tedium, one longs for the beats of the monsoon,the warm smell of rising earth during the first rain, the lazy mornings when one sleeps in when you don't have to go anywhere and just like that in this between time of twilight, when the lamps are lit for prayer and prayers chanted in the temples, one dreams of home, of being one with you. My heart reaches for you in these eons of absence with a longing that I have never known before when I remember how during twilight, we would enjoy our moments of togetherness. Like one longs for rain in this summer tedium, I long for our days of togetherness. 

You remember rain- the sudden outburst, the sound of pitter-patter beating against the tin roof, the occasional thunderbolts, the celebration of earth brimming with life and trees bedecked with jewels like brides. And, after the furnace-hot afternoons to nights of restlessness, it rains and you step right into the rain humming the rain raga. This sudden downpour makes you dream of your love and get goosebumps on your skin when you remember your first walk in the rain with him. He comes in your midnight dreams with unspoken desires and emotions that still have to find a way to form into words. 

Yet, we were never meant to be together in life, for we came from two different worlds of understanding and never really spoke the same language. What is left of a beautiful summer love are some lovely memories and so many million words written in absence scattered across the yearly journals. Though you are not mine to own, you are the first one whom I called mine and you have walked with me everywhere ever since. And, in every round around the fire that I dreamt of, yours was the hand I held and you were there in every dream speaking the language of the heart even in the wordless silences. 

Yet, though lost, the memory of this young love can give an understanding about how this love would remain a window to the beauty of this world, like a chocolate bar that you savour alone too good to share it with others. And, you remember how you learnt the secrets of this life through an infinite longing to be with your love and how the same life spirit that runs through all beings gives you an understanding that there is no distance, no separation, no barrier between you and the one you love till the end of time. And, this summer tedium of absence may dampen your spirits and may last every lifetime you are born, you get a sense of recompense from remembering that this lost love is the most perfect thing that ever happened in your otherwise uneventful life. 

Chingamasam

For the whole year, I was looking forward to this month of Chingam, where I get to spend ten of my lovely days in my home near the River Pamba. It is our holiday taken out of the books, where we enjoy a quiet retreat from the hustle and bustle of the crowded city where we live. From where we live, we can hear the high spirits of the echoing boatsongs from the snakeboats dashing through the river.

We wander around like tourists looking at the sights, smells and sounds that have denied to us to the place where we live in---the noise of the cicadas at night, the fragrant jasmines at the window that beckons you at night, the September full moon peeping through the horizon in our night rides, the grandstyle of the chundanvallams as they make a run through the river Pamba and the touch of rain on our skins as we stand immersed in the river. And, to tell the River Pamba as you stand hollering in its waters, that you are home once again.

For me, I love this much-awaited time spent at my ancestral home, the place I was born. I just love the memories of Onam from childhood, where this was the time when one went frolicking in the water waiting for the palliyodams to show their power. On growing up, it meant eating out onam delicacies to your heart's content and relaxing after a long luxuriant bath daily for ten whole days- learning how to rewind and relax after a long days of hectic work.

It means going back to your roots and learning how to make the traditional curries from scratch though you never reach the perfection of your grandmother's tasty curries. It means the art of letting go of the modern trends that you learnt in your growing years to appreciate the taste of food handed over through generations. This effort of making traditional dishes from memories slowly grows into a personal recipe book as well, with special additions of favourites that we enjoyed.

We wake up early in the twilight time and enjoy our morning coffee outside. Often, we wander across the green fields nearby taking in the breathtaking loveliness of the morning sights. Even the bird formations and the ducks swaddling delight us and our pixels. During dusk, we listen to the sounds of the insects and see the birds flying home in perfect formation. And, we listen to the gurgling of the stream nearby.

The days of our togetherness are marked with identical shades of kasavu saree and kasavu mundu and shirt. I wear strings of jasmine on my hair and darken my eyes with kohl. After the sumptous Onam feast made with the help from the whole family, we rest together like the ancient king and his demure queen. You sing the old boatsongs in your mellow voice and I sing along like a beginner as usual. Like, newly weds we learn the art of togetherness though it's been quite some decades. And, this is the Onam that we might know till the end of our lives. 

Ode to the Uppumanga

Ode to the Uppumanga

From my memories of summer vacations spent near the River Green, what stands out is a special dish made by my grandmother when we paid her a surprise visit. We did not inform her of our coming beforehand and she did not have time to prepare anything special. So, she took out some mangoes in brine from her big bharani and mixed it with ground coconut to make the tastiest mango curry I have eaten. After lunch, I remember eating brined mango slices to my heart's content. 

When I was pregnant, I was homesick and I craved for my favourite foods from home, the mezhukkupurattis, moru, puttu, idiyyapam, motta kuzhalappam, kadumanga and uppumanga. Being away from my family, it was not possible to get a taste of even the quick-fix dishes that my mother made. I even had a flashback of uluvamanga that my grandmother used to make during Lent. My husband's family, though Malayalis were brought up in Andamans,  where they had this habit of eating mostly chappathis and North Indian curries and this made me feel completely out of place. 

And, though I have seen most of the traditional Kerala dishes, I did not have practice making many of them. Then, one fine day, I decided to make some puttu and it was successful. Then, idiyappam and motta kuzhalappam tasted good. I still craved for uppumanga and instant mango pickle that my mother used to make. When coming back from work, I bought some raw mangoes and went straight to the kitchen. Then, in a flash of inspiration, I made the instant pickle mixing all the ingredients like my mother does and the result was a pleasant smell that came from the kitchen and my happy heart to have satisfied one pregnancy craving. I remembered this when I tasted some really tasty mango pickle yesterday that made me have a foodgasm.