The Sunday, I never had!

Lazing around waking up really late, pulling my legs out of the room to the bright sunshine still closing my eyes was my Sunday all these days before I shifted to the Eastern Ghats. I was only preparing myself to the new responsibility awaiting my arrival here. Never did I think about the change in lifestyle that would happen inevitably. Sleeping at around 3AM most of the days and getting up to a few concerning advices and remarks from my father about following a disciplined and a healthy lifestyle, I sure had neglected a lot of things in life.

Curious on health suddenly these days, I have come to realize one thing. It is easy to lose one’s health. One can lose it in days. But to regain, it takes months, may be years, and may be it never will. Just remembering my brother’s words who always advised me to take care of my health first, finances next and then think about any damn thing to do with the life I have got. Well, I guess I now understand the gravity of the whole situation. Taking a very strong antibiotic to keep my epileptic condition at bay and in control for the last eight years, twice every day, it has become a part of my life. It can never skip my routine, even if my routine changes. And back in my home, I cannot keep a record of how many times I would have missed consuming it if my parents and brother and friends had not reminded me of it. Even with the schedule of taking these tablets imprinted onto my life, I was forgetting it. Although the tablet hits onto the memory to subside other effects down, I see it now more as a lethargic approach to life.

I am not sure whether I have to thank the cold here or be amused at a sudden change in my perception at things and about my own health and lifestyle, that I am sleeping and waking early coming here. The freedom and the fun in work here makes every day a Sunday. So waking up at 6:30 in the morning on a Sunday is nothing alarming. And getting up from the bed, it is not too late until you realize that the cold has got into your body and you need to keep your feet warm. Getting out of the bed and going straight to finish all the morning chores, I was only amazed at the sight of the birds flying from tree to tree trying to catch the early morning sun while I went onto brush my teeth. The light is not too harsh and you can keep your eyes wide open to enjoy the sight of the flight. The brush moves ever so slowly rubbing off all that the mouth and the teeth had picked up overnight. And that splash of cold water onto your face, after you have safely kept your spectacles aside is the ringing of the bell to a possible great day ahead. 

Going back into the room, drying all the water off from the face, wearing my spectacles back on, lifting the dhothi from below and tying it up my knees, clearing the shirt from its attachment to my unbathed skin and standing in front of the door opening it wide to let all the sun rays come in, the day started, fresh. There is one more thing that gets into you apart from the cold; it’s the inner peace. I walk all so silently to the kitchen where ‘Konda akka’ had prepared a nice tea; hot and mildly sweet. My hands tied to my back all these while, now opens out generously to grab a cup of this Elixir of Life. By elixir it doesn’t intend to be of any medicinal value, but surely brings in a lot of positive thoughts. Grabbing a cup I walked back to my cottage, enjoying the heat that got transferred to my body through my hands. I remembered my late grandmother managing the hot cooking vessels from the heater stove onto the platform with her bare hands; especially the one which contained milk. She must have gotten used to getting up very early in the cold and preparing hot chocolate and coffee to her family. With no sweaters and thermal wears helping her from the cold, this was how she might have gathered warmth apart from the sight of her children and grandchildren sipping on that cup filled with love.

Konda akka

 

The Kitchen

So, I get the chair out in front of my cottage, right where the sun shines bright. I sit with the tea in one hand and a book in the other. The sun slowly starts coming out on the hill in front of me and the light is little harsh now. As long as it is killing the cold, it is acceptable. A very good friend of mine, Lavanya presented me this book, The Alchemist; written by Paulo Coelho, the day I left my city to the forests. Although I had this book in my house, I had never read it before. With the tea slurp going on I was seeing heavens around. I had finished a major portion of the book already coming here and it had really impressed me. I was so thankful to myself that I had not read it before and of course to my friend for giving it to me at the right time. Ensuring my dhothi will not be a problem with the wind picking up; I made myself comfortable on the chair and started off to see how the journey ends for the shepherd boy from Spain. Anyway, the story goes on brilliantly well, while I could relate to most of the things and learn as I read them. And Konda akka does feel to be my Alchemist for providing me with the Elixir of Life. As The Alchemist uses it along with the Philosopher’s Stone to convert lead into Gold, just to showcase the Shepherd boy that such an evolution is possible to be recreated by man, she just showed how one can get positive thoughts out of a cup of mildly sweet and hot tea.

The tea got over but not the freshness it brought in that morning. I shall always remain thankful to Konda akka for she embraces the cold every morning to ensure we have the elixirs of our lives. Just didn’t realize how time went by reading the book, as the shepherd boy found out that the real treasure that he was looking for was right where he started. The boy’s story taught me to appreciate the journey of life. And of course be fearless in my exploration. The desert (symbolically) as I understood from Mr. Coelho has different omens to different persons. And in the end it is only logical to go behind those. After all we are going behind what we want in life. The treasure resides in the place where you are right now, but it doesn’t show up unless you move out of your shell, take a journey and get back. Rather, it always shows up, but is visible to our eyes only after the journey is complete. Although heavily conscious and concerned about me biting my nails, I had got onto it without my notice. And only could I realize when Satish called me for breakfast. The sun was up and roaring by this time. Just kept my solar lantern out to soak up all that is available with as much greed as possible, and closing the book, I accompanied him towards the kitchen.

The breakfast is a good indicator of how much a Sunday means to a person. I am sure, it meant a good deal to our Konda Akka. She had prepared Idly and Sambar for us; a delicacy here inside the forest. Although the food in Andhra Pradesh is spicy, tribals here cook them very mild. Konda akka a tribal herself, coming from the tribal settlements of Paderu, stays here in the kitchen with her daughter Maheswari who is pursuing her elementary education in Arts with a focus in History, Economics and Political Science. She was quick enough to ascertain my inner thoughts that I felt a need for little more salt and spice to the Sambar that was cooked for idly. But, it tasted fantastic. Just imagine the amount of effort that goes behind the cooking they do for us to satisfy our hunger, taste then becomes secondary. I always had been grateful to people who cooked for me, majorly my amma, whose magic I should say, I am missing now. Taking some hot water along with me back to my room, I took my tablet and then sat down on my chair in front of the desk, completely relaxed.

Maheshwari to my right

When there is too much cold and less physical activity, it is obvious that a person doesn’t sweat much. And being either inside the farm or inside the office mostly for the last two days, I didn’t find a need to take bath. I am living my life inside a forest and shouldn’t I maintain some standards here, I convinced myself. But on the third day, the mind started to get affected. With such a state of mind now, all relaxed and sober, I didn’t want to disturb it. So, I took my towel out and headed towards the bathroom with soap in hand. Well, with the sun out now, it wasn’t a big deal to pour the cold water onto myself. Just came out more relaxed and feeling fresh like never before. The mind was already set to take the start I had got further in a better way. I decided I will work on a few ideas that I was interested in. I was able to make some real progress. At the end of it I was happy to realize that I was getting somewhere. I had thought that all these while that all my decisions were intuitive in nature. But now I realize those were all omens all along the way which has got me here, only because I followed it. And believing in the opportunities that lay ahead, the work continued; and had to call my friend Gnana to help me out with some data. Internet is a big problem here. And of course most of the preliminary data is available in some of the credible websites. Gnana offered help like he always does. The work continued. Lot of things I had to work on and do follow up of my activities back in Bangalore. I continued all of it, after lunch as well. It was may be at around 3PM that I decided to shut down my books and close my calculator, and decided to watch a few movies that I brought here with me. This was a clear indication that my lifestyle had changed. And after having read The Alchemist, the first thing that came to my mind was the story of Christopher McCandless’s. For people who have read Jon Krakauer’s ‘Into The Wild’ or watched Sean Penn’s movie adapted from the book will know who this man is. It was an obvious choice for me to plug in the hard drive and watch the movie again for the hundredth time, may be. Surrounded by hills all round, it gets dark very early as the sun slowly slides down behind the hill on the west.

It was 5:30PM when Alexander Super Tramp realized that the real value was already back in the place where he was staying. But he had to undergo the Great Alaskan Adventure only to realize that even though the name Alexander Super Tramp carried a lot of value, it was more so to be found in the name of Christopher McCandless and that it was always there in it even when he graduated out of Emory. Very similar to the story of the shepherd boy from Spain who embraced the Levanter and came back only to realize that the ‘Levanter’ (The Wind from the east) carried with it the moisture and beautiful scent from the east and not the smell of war blood of the tribesmen. Just that in this case, Christopher was not able to return to really understand what the ‘North’ actually meant apart from its literal sense of direction that led him to Alaska. And I got up to head towards the kitchen for some tea. As the cold picked up again, I was sad that the sun had already set behind the hills. I somehow strangely started respecting it more now. Not that I missed the warmth, it is just that I didn't get an opportunity to convey my regards to it. I still am trying to understand the omens and connections that led me to have this particular feeling now. May be it is an omen in itself, and I shall take it. The mild sweetness and the hot cup filled with lots of concern and warmth was simply calling for my grab. And for the amazing people here, a simple tea was not enough. It was a Sunday evening. It called for more celebration. The farmer here, ‘Baabulu’ had brought some Sweet Potato’s from his village last week. That was boiled to a ‘feel good to bite inside your mouth’ level. What more can be asked for, I thought, and just then our farm incharge ‘Chinna Rao’ comes out and tells, ‘Shashi sir, this dampu (Sweet Potato in Telugu) more taste, when put inside fire na, put lot of black burn on this and eat na; super taste than boiled dampu’. After having eaten three boiled dampus, all I could say looking at Chinna’s face while he explained to me about the burnt dampus was, ‘Bring it on Chinna, lets burn some’. And it tasted great. My health though doesn’t prescribe so much dampus in one shot. But I crossed a line here and it felt okay.

Baabulu (our Farmer)

Chinna Rao

Heading back happily looking back at how the day went by, still hung over the story of the shepherd boy from Spain and his conflicts all along, I bumped over into Ms. Bhanu (Ravi’s wife and founder of Dhaatri). Picking up the dhothi again and tying it up my knees as I walked towards the bench at the open fire place I saw her sitting on it working on her Ph.D. thesis, and I was sure that I was in for a very intellectual discussion. Although the flow of knowledge was only one-way, I had only ‘yeah’s’, ‘is it’s’ and ‘ok’s’ from my end. She has worked for the tribal rights, mainly women and children, for the last twenty years. So it was pretty obvious for me to shut my mouth and listen for the majority of the time during this uncalled for informal meeting. Volunteering for this organization called Samata, that is working for the rights of the tribals in the Eastern Ghats, one thing I observed was that these people engage mainly with Social Work practitioners and academicians and like-minded activists and their history never had an Engineer earning quite well from the city of Bengaluru, quit his job and come down to join hands with them, although temporarily. She was very much open in her assessment of my Yeah’s and Ok’s and still managed to respect my inability to assess a few things when topics such as the Tribal Women’s role in the conservation of forests came up. Her research on how the consumption of non-timber forest produce can be controlled understanding the routine and the lifestyle of the Tribal women and mapping that practice onto a policy level Forest conservation framework is what her professor at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences will have to analyze before awarding her a Doctorate in other 6 months’ time.  Every other person I meet, and every other discussion I have, there is always something to learn. She gave some mind blowing inputs to the confusions I had in my mind regarding my work and interests. The suggestions were well taken. Of course at times I felt bad for not being able to look at things in that dimension. But hey, I told to myself, that’s precisely the reason, why I am here. So, it was good to feel bad about myself that way. And it was not all peaceful this intellectual discussion. The mosquitoes had caught my attention and they were a force willing to strike with all guns blazing and I had tied my dhothi up my knees. It didn’t take me long to go straight back to my room, shift onto my jeans as the night cold kicked in with full force. I opened my laptop. I have absolutely no idea of Classical music and its ragas, but still after such a beautiful day behind, I could not resist myself to listen to the only two Hindustani songs in my playlist. Pandit Jasraj’s voice suited perfectly as the dark set in with the Raga Asa Mand and Raga Gauri playing in the loop, I turned up the volume and went back to the bench right outside my cottage. Laying my head down gently onto the bench, Carl Sagan and his perspective of our creation just passed my mind, only to realize how small we all are in this universe. And it broke my ego down to pieces, for that moment at least. The stars seemed so bright and it was beautiful. No wonder people played around with it forming constellations. All I could remember was that of a hunter with the three stars in line representing his belt. Only the icing was missing on the cake, but not for long. I happened to see a shooting star for the first time in my life. Well, the Hindustani ragas really sounded beautiful and made the atmosphere more serene and filled with tranquility. I really could not have asked for a better Sunday. And with the dinner done and tablet taken, it was time to hit the bed.

With so much emotions going into what others may call it, ‘just another Sunday’, there were too many things to reflect upon a day gone by. The mind was all relaxed and less pacy in its intuitive suggestions. Looking back, things fell into place excellently. It is not that I did not have such days back in Bengaluru. I could have derived all of this pleasure right where I was. But I couldn’t see it, or experience it. May be I didn’t open up myself to it. May be I took lot of things for granted back home. May be I had to move out for a while, to realize the worth through its absence. May be the journey isn’t complete yet. And that makes this day very special; the Sunday, I never had.

I slept listening to the words of G.S.Shivarudrappa enjoying the solitude as C. Ashwath’s voice filled the empty spaces between the broken hills of the Eastern Ghats.

Ello HuDukide illada devara, kallu maNNugaLa guDiyoLagey

Illey iruva preethi snehagaLa, gurtisadadeno nannoLagey!