In praise of the hills

Living in a city that is lined by hills that you see anywhere you go, it is natural to come to think of them as home. It was brought home to me when, a few months into this country, we were driving back from San Francisco, and the moment these hills came into view, even though we were miles away from home, I felt, "We're home." And it was then that I realized how much these hills have become  a part of me -- one of those things I know I'll miss when we leave.

For most of the year, these hills are full of grass that is yellow or brown or golden depending on the season or the time of the day. They wave in the breeze, and the hills look stunning against the bright blue sky.

But come winter, and the hills start turning green. It is a hazy green at first, something like moss on the ground just after a rain.

And then they become rich green, a verdant, pure colour that makes the heart skip a beat. So beautiful that sometimes I cannot trust myself to drive on the freeway that meanders through these hills. So beautiful, that several times, I have asked S to just take the car and drive a couple of miles on the freeway just so that I can sit in the passenger seat and look at the hills and absorb as much of the beauty as I can without having to worry about changing lanes or bother about speed limits.

And just as you think it cannot get any more beautiful, winter comes to an end, the rains cease, and the hills start looking like clothes that have been out in the sun too long. They fade, ever so slightly at first, making you wonder if your eyes are just playing tricks on you. And as the jackets and woollen socks come off, and your clothes get lighter, the hills become lighter, but they make up by pushing up thousands of wild flowers of various hues.

And then, before you know it, the sun bleaches the grass and you are left with shades of yellow, green and brown.

But you know that it is just a matter of days before it is gone and the long months of dry brown and yellow grass is back.

And you look back with fondness at that dark green of winter and wonder how you will get through the dreary summer months of beige, and yet, when the hills are yellow and brown again, the waves of yellow grass rippling in the wind make your heart lighter again, and you think -- I'll be just fine.

Puttachi in the Mysore Park

We were in Mysore for the greater part of a month, and naturally, a park visit in the evenings was a must for Puttachi. The park visit is very important because it serves to dissipate the little terror's excess energy, which would otherwise be spent in destructive activity. Of course, it also helps that the activities in the park give her a better appetite and tires her out enough to go to bed early and stay in bed :D

There is a park very close to my grandparents' place, one that we used to go to when we were kids. Some of the monkey ladders that we used to play on still exist. Repaired, patched, mended, painted, but still there. A quarter of a century old at least. There are new ones too, and the park has been spruced up, but it still remains the same old park.

As usual, Puttachi made friends with everybody in a couple of days, and went around waving hi and bye like British Royalty. I even had to fend off paparazzi on her behalf. (Seriously. Young girls trying to get her snap on their mobile phones. Frightening.)

The first few days, Puttachi ran around (when excited to find open space after a period of confinement, she walks around like she is drunk, in a state of euphoria), she played on the slide, and she climbed monkey ladders with minimum help from me. Then I decided to introduce her to the wonders of sand, as the play area had loads of sand. In preparation, I had even brought to Mysore, her sand implements, which consisted of a couple of spades, a cup, a sand truck, and some moulds.

So, the next day, we set out with her sand set, and after her constitutional, I plonked her down on the sand and gave her the sand playthings. She was delighted. She explored the sand with her fingers, and then was content to just pick up sand with a spade, load it into the truck, and then empty the truck, and start all over again. [I hadn't let her play with sand until now mainly because she put everything, and just everything into her mouth. She still does it, but she is better now.]

As I sat watching her, I noticed that the colourful playthings had attracted many kids. They stood around and watched. Slowly, a couple of them started playing with those things that Puttachi was not using. I welcomed this, as I felt that Puttachi would like company. But kids of her age don't yet know how to play "with" other kids, but they just play "alongside" the others. Puttachi did not even seem to notice the other kids, she was in her own world.

The kids kept looking at me to see if I would prevent them from playing, and some kids even tried to butter me up by telling me that "Puttachi was the cutest kid in the world, can they play with the truck please?" Kids, I tell you - they know how to get things done. Since I obviously seemed to welcome them, they got more adventurous, other kids joined, until there was a lot of pushing and shoving and sand flying all over the place. Some of it landed in Puttachi's eye, and I gave the kids a warning. "She is a small kid, please be careful." They piped down for two minutes, before they were at it again. I just removed Puttachi from the vicinity, and she continued playing. But she took the truck with her, and the kids followed the truck. Soon they were snatching the playthings from Puttachi's hands. Puttachi, who until then, was totally oblivious to the others, now looked up and appealed to me. "Ask for it", I told her. "Taa, taa", she said politely to the boisterous crowd, but her voice was totally drowned in the cacophony. She looked pleadingly at me again. I told the boy who had snatched the toy from her to give it back to her. He did give it back without any fuss. Then she wanted the truck which was lost in the sand amidst the crowd of kids. She stood up unsteadily, walked right into the middle of the ring of kids, picked up the truck, and walked back to me, and resumed playing nonchalantly. The kids just stared, not knowing what to do. Just then, one of the boys shouted to another, "Oye!" Puttachi, of course, had to imitate that sound. But as it happened, she said a loud "Oye" just as another boy was trying to snatch a spade from her. Thinking that it was meant for him, he dropped the spade in alarm and backed off. It had me giggling helplessly. Puttachi had absolutely no idea what she had just done!

The next day, I didn't want this whole unruly episode to repeat itself, with sand in Puttachi's hair and eyes, and so I just took along one spade and one cup, enough for her to play on her own. Understandably, the crowd was much thinner than the previous day, though a couple of kids did try to take over the toys. But my little cousin V was with us that day, and he, fiercely protective of his beloved niece, established firm boundaries that stayed for the rest of our visits.

I still don't know how to handle a crowd of kids. I don't want to discourage them, because I don't want to give Puttachi the message that she shouldn't share her toys. At the same time, I don't want her to be overpowered by kids older than herself, so much that she doesn't get to do what she wants to. What do I do? My instinct tells me that things will just take care of themseleves, and that Puttachi will learn how to handle such situations by herself, and that I should just sit back and relax.

In the meantime, let me leave you with a couple of images.


Puttachi playing by herself during one of the quieter moments.




Commander-in-chief of the Wooden Cavalry of Channapatna.


- Hotel Indradhanush, near Maddur, Bangalore-Mysore highway (on our way back to Bangalore).

What Puttachi is doing in Mysore

Watching the rain....




Exploring the garden....





Weeding her great-grandmother's garden....




....And getting her hands dirty :)