Day 12 - Overeating

What do you think of a day where you get to eat breakfast at your favourite idli-vada joint (Brahmin's Coffee Bar), and dinner at your prefered Dosa place (CTR?)

Yeah, I had such a day yesterday.  And all I can do is heave a sigh of contentment.

Actually the last few weeks have been like that - overeating.  The days of watchful and healthy eating flew out of the window, and I've been eating everything in sight.

This was my dessert plate at a buffet lunch at a restaurant a few weeks ago:

And no, I'm not proud of it.  (Though I did enjoy it!)

But my system is tired of this.  I'm now craving my favourite breakfast of oats.

Time to get back on track!

Day 11 - Tiny Habits

There's so much info floating about on how to form habits, and how long it takes to form a habit.  21 days, say some, but recent research says it takes much longer, and varies for different things.

I recently heard about Tiny Habits and signed up.  But the week went awry, and I couldn't complete it.  I intend to sign up again soon, but I have two takeaways from what I read and learnt from it.

1 - To form a  habit, you need to start small.  A tiny step initially seems much more doable than a mountainous task ahead of you.
2 - Using another activity as a crutch to form a habit is really useful.  For example, instead of saying, "I'm going to drink a glass of water every morning,"  if you say to yourself, "I'm going to drink a glass of water every morning immediately after I brush  my teeth"  - you are using teeth-brushing as a crutch after which you'll do your water-drinking, and teeth-brushing is something you do every day, and so that's something you'll not miss, and so you'll not miss the water-drinking either. And soon, the water-drinking will become a habit by itself.

I've been using the second one especially, to do certain activities with Puttachi, and it is helping.

Hope it helps you too.

Day 10 - The pleasure of being at the receiving end of good customer service

Yesterday, I took my sister to a shop that sells utensils and kitchen items.  I've been visiting this shop ever since my mom-in-law introduced it to me a few years ago.  It is always a pleasure to go there.  The salespeople are friendly, polite and they know their stuff.  They show you whatever you want with patience, digging out things from storage if necessary, and they don't show annoyance if you cannot make up your mind.  They pitch in with their opinion in case you are confused about something, but give you the space to think it out and make a decision.  If you just want to browse, they don't follow you around like a shadow, but they are immediately at your elbow if you have a query.   They are smart salespersons too - they are clever at suggesting appropriate items related to your purchases.   It doesn't stop at that.  The cashiers are friendly too.  They wear pleasant expressions, are professional and polite.  And all this is beside the fact that the shop stocks a large variety of things, and are also very enterprising when it comes to fixing things, or repairing loose handles, or replacing missing knobs on your idli stand, or providing you with the right fittings if you are buying a gadget to take abroad... you know, the works.

Now you would think that these attributes are a must for a successful commercial establishment.  But the funny part is that there are so few shops like this!  Bored-looking or lazy salespeople, surly cashiers, moody proprietors, lackadaisical sales skills, a laid-back attitude towards customers are so much the norm that the shop I talked about comes like a breath of fresh air.

And this is not even a posh establishment - just a local shop, with local people speaking your language, and being almost neighbourly with you.   I am not talking about the "Good morning, how can I help you today" kind of clinical politeness, and artificial friendliness.  This seems like a natural, inbuilt desire on the part of the shop to help the customer get what she wants.

Is this really so difficult to achieve?

Edited to add: The shop is Sarathy, in 3rd block Jayanagar. [Website]

Day 9 - The story of a story

My story Kanchenjunga, which won a contest recently, was received warmly by a lot of people.  Some told me it touched them, some wrote to me to tell me how it stayed with them for several days after reading it.  And many people observed that my writing has improved since my last few stories.

It is this last comment that I treasure most.  Just because this improvement hasn't happened just like that.  It has been a long journey, and in many respects, the final version of Kanchenjunga embodies that journey. 

How does a story get written?  Not many people can start with the first word, and produce a perfect product at one shot.  Most of us need to rewrite.  Like James Michener said, "I am not a very good writer, but I am an excellent rewriter."  I'm sure many writers will identify with this statement. 

So for those of you who think that I churned out this story in one effortless gush, here's the story of the story.

It began 14 years ago, when we visited Darjeeling from college, as part of an industrial tour (yeah right.)  We awoke at 3 30 in the biting December cold to drive out to the nearby Tiger Hills to watch the sunrise.  Watching the sun rise, and watching its first few rays slowly illuminate the Kanchenjunga was one of the most ethereal sights I have seen.  I have tried to express it in words several times (whenever something overwhelms me, it helps to write it down.)  but my account hasn't really done justice to that feeling.  Anyway, after watching the sunrise, we drove back to Darjeeling, and on the way, stopped at a momo shop to have the most delicious momos I've ever had.  And from this shop, we could see the Kanchenjunga, which was now bright white, and this experience, though not as sublime as the first one, was memorable in its own right. 

And then, 4 years ago, a writing exercise required us to write a story fragment in a setting that we were expected to describe in detail.  I chose to describe the momo shop, and then wrote a little story set in it.  The feedback I received was excellent, but I felt that the story seemed incomplete. 

So I abandoned it temporarily.  But it kept coming back to me.  So, over these four years, I revisited the story again and again, until finally, I struck upon an ending which satisfied me. I made the required changes,  and then I let the story be. I would visit it once every two months, and with whatever new knowledge I had gleaned about the craft of writing, I would modify the story.  Each time I came back to the story, I changed something.  Tiny things, but they satisfied me.  And sometimes I changed whole sentences - agonizing over a sentence for ages - until I got it down to my satisfaction. 

Finally, on one visit, I read it, and the ending brought tears to my eyes. And then I knew that I was ready to send it out into the world.

So along came this contest, and well, you know the rest.

Day 8 - The love of reading, not of books.

I've always said I love books.  With a lot of bibliophile friends, I'm getting to read many articles on the love of books.  And with this, it made me think - is it books I love, or just the act of reading?

The more I think of it, the more it comes to me that I don't feel any particular affinity towards books.  I don't go crazy when I go to a bookstore, like many book-lovers do. I don't care for book-fairs or book-exhibitions.  If someone says to me excitedly, "Omg, a book sale is on there, you going?"  I'll be all, "Yawn, I don't know..."   I don't spend thousands of rupees on books that just line my bookshelves, waiting to be read.  In fact, for the kind of reader that I am, my bookshelf is quite sparse.   I can go into a bookstore, browse for hours, and come back without buying a single book.   In fact, book-lovers who know the kind of reader I am will not believe me if I tell them that I haven't even visited several iconic bookstores in Bangalore.  It's  not that I don't want to go - it is just that I couldn't be less bothered.  

It could be the remnants of a childhood habit - we grew up with a lack of space at home.  Though I probably had more books than what all my friends put together owned, I never had enough for what I wanted.  But then the practical problems of lack of space and lack of money was brought to my notice quite early on, and the library became my best friend. 

So the habit of not buying books has become so ingrained in me, that I still do not do it.  And probably as a result of that, I've never really developed the craze for owning books.

All I want is a good book to read.  Whether it is an e-book or a physical book (though I still favour physical books) I'll read it.  Even if you hand me a sheaf of papers stapled together, I'll read it if the story hooks me.  I don't care for book covers.  I don't buy books looking at their book covers.  And I don't care whether I own a book or not.  I just want to read it.  I just want to get that story inside my head.  I want to make the contents of the book mine.  

And that craze - of wanting to read, just read.... of getting the book in my hands, turning the first page, and drowning in it... now that is an all-consuming craze. 

Day 7 - Bullied in the playground

It's tough to see your child being bullied.  Puttachi ran home last evening, sad-eyed, saying that everybody in the playground was throwing things at her.  This wasn't the first time - Puttachi has been bullied before, by the same set of kids. (6-year-olds, all)   But this time, she was even sadder because one of them was her best friend K, a classmate from school who has moved into our apartment complex recently.

Me: What were they throwing at you?  Are you hurt?

She: No, it was just those small colourful thermocol balls that you find at birthday parties.  But everybody was throwing it only at me.  I tried throwing some back, but everybody, Amma, was throwing it only at me.  I told K to stop throwing, and come with me, but she didn't listen. 

Like I said, she's been targeted before, but this time she was upset because her friend was there too. 

One - I have no idea why she is bullied - she is usually lost in her own world.  Perhaps that could be it - she doesn't actively join the other kids while playing.  And she doesn't really care much for group dynamics - if everybody decides they should do one thing, Puttachi doesn't necessarily go along with them.  I think she doesn't really care, and so she doesn't listen to the "gang-leader" among the kids.   According to K's mom, this is what bothers the leader the most.  And she instigates the others to target Puttachi.

Two - K is a very go-with-the-flow kind of kid.  I can totally understand that she had't even realized that Puttachi was upset.  K has obviously thought of it as a game and gone along with the others.  But since Puttachi is an intensely empathetic kid, she expects others to understand her pain too, and that is obviously not possible. I've tried telling her not to expect it from others, but she doesn't quite get it yet. 

So, she was walking around morosely.  I told her that  K probably was totally unaware that she was hurt, and asked if she wanted to call and tell K how she was feeling.  She cheered up immediately... and called her.  This is the conversation that ensued. 

Puttachi:  K, you were throwing things at me at the park today.  I didn't like it a bit, and I felt very sad.  Why did you do that?

K: But it was just a game.

Puttachi:  But you were all throwing it at me, for me it wasn't funny. 

K: I did not know.

Puttachi:  I told you to stop throwing, and come play with me, why didn't you do it?

K: Did you?  I did not hear you.  Everybody was shouting.  I'm sorry. 

Puttachi:  It's okay.  Please don't do it again next time okay?  I felt sad.

K: Ok I won't do it again. 

Puttachi:  Next time when everybody is throwing things at me, will you play with me?

K: Yes

Puttachi: Ok, bye, good night!

Puttachi felt much better after this conversation. But I later learnt that K was very upset about it.  She called again after a while, and apologized again, the poor thing.  

But I know this is not the end.  Puttachi will be bullied again, and she'll be upset again.  How do I handle it without getting involved, or how do I teach her to handle it?

Any ideas/suggestions?

Day 6 - Himavad Gopalaswamy Betta

About 80 km from Mysore is the Himavad Gopalaswamy Betta, a hill with a temple on top of it. This is situated in the Bandipur area.  Himavad in Kannada means misty, foggy, and the hills are covered with mist throughout the year, especially in the early mornings and evenings.

The sights from the top are impressive, and there are frequent sightings of elephants and recently, tigers.
We had trekked a bit on the top of the mountain when we went there previously.  But this time, we found that access has been blocked - you can't go anywhere else aside from the temple.  Not only that, you are only allowed to stay there for a little more than an hour.   I think if we'd known this before, we wouldn't have gone at all!

Anyway, here are a few pics.

It wasn't exactly Hiimavad when we went.... we planned it all wrong.  Anyway, the drive is quite beautiful.  There is another view I loved - but don't have a picture of.  You turn from the highway into the road that leads to the betta (hill) and then  you see the road stretching ahead of you, with the Betta beyond it - quite a breathtaking sight.  I had dozed off on the drive, and had just gotten up, and so I wasn't bright enough to take out the camera and click :(

The drive up the hill

View from the top

Another view

Bare trees against the blue winter sky.  I love winter skies - so clear and so blue!

I don't have good pics of the temple itself - you'll find some here

Location:  80 km from Mysore, on the Mysore - Ooty road.  Just after Gundlupet, you have to turn to the right, and the road takes you right to the top of the betta.  The road is ok, motorable.

Timings: Between 8 to 5 (approx)  

Entry: There's a checkpoint at the bottom of the hill.  Cars have to pay 50 rupees, and you need to be back at that point within an hour and fifteen minutes.

There is a restaurant, Pugmark, a part of the Bandipur Safari Lodge, on the highway towards Bandipur, just 7 km beyond the turning to the betta.  We ate a buffet lunch there - Wholesome, tasty, food.  Reasonably priced.

Day 5 - The Railway Museum, Mysore

The Railway Museum, situated next to the Railway Station in Mysore, is a fun place to spend a couple of hours, especially if you have train-crazy children.  

It is mostly open-air, with actual steam engines, diesel engines, coaches and bogies.   You can get inside coaches and engines, and get a feel of it all!  There are quite a few boards which explain each installation.

Forgive me for the quality of images - they were taken with a mobile camera.

Puttachi pretending to drive a steam engine.

 Awed by the size of the wheels - they were taller than Puttachi.

A crane-train.

An old Austin that was rescued from a British scrapyard, given railway wheels, and used to ferry inspection engineers.

An inside view of the coach of the Maharani of Mysore.  The entire coach consisted of the Maharani's bedroom, sitting room, servant's quarters and toilet, cook's quarters and toilet, kitchen, dining room, luggage room - all of which fascinated Puttachi.

There is even a toy train with a very short journey, but was enough to excite Puttachi.  Here's a view of the Mysore railway station from the toy train. 

Day 4 - Something to think about?

A couple of weeks ago, I suddenly felt cold right after lunch (happens to me all the time.) I shivered involuntary, and grimaced.

Immediately, Puttachi, got up, went to my room, and brought my sweater to me.

Me: Oh thank you, sweetheart!  How did you know I was feeling cold?

She: Well, you shivered, and your face looked as if you were scared.  But then, you are not afraid of anything.  So that meant you were cold.  So I brought your sweater.

I gave myself mental high-fives.   "You've been a good role-model to your daughter, Shruthi! Not scared of anything indeed!" I told myself.

But then I stopped.  Come to think of it, that could also mean that I am not putting myself in situations where I could feel afraid!  i.e. I am not pushing myself enough.  Could that be true?

Food for thought!

Day 3 - Day trip to Chitradurga Fort

This winter break, we decided to do a day-trip to Chitradurga, which is a town 200 km from Bangalore, known for its magnificent hill fortress of the same name.  (Chitra - picturesque, Durga - Fort)  Built in the 15th century, the fort was the headquarters of generations of the Nayakas. There are seven concentric ramparts to this fort, and it is a really awe-inspiring place.

Puttachi has long been fascinated by the story of the brave woman Obavva, who discovered Hyder Ali's soldiers trying to enter the fort through a secret chink in one of the walls.   She stood next to the chink, and as the soldiers crept through it, she hit them on the head with a mortar, killing them all.  She is known as Onake Obavva (Onake - mortar) and the chink is called "Obavvana kindi" (Obavva's chink.)

We were eager to see the kindi, but unfortunately, we had gone on a day when half of the schools of Karnataka had landed up at the fort for their annual school picnic.  So it was extremely crowded, and Obavvana kindi, being the most popular sightseeing point of the place, was so full of people that we could hardly even spot the kindi.  Fortunately, Puttachi took the disappointment in her stride.  Since we couldn't even get a good picture of the kindi, I'll guide you to google's images of the kindi.

This is the view as soon as you enter the first rampart.

From within the first suttu (outermost rampart) - a part of the fort, a part of the town, and hills and windmills beyond.

Entrance gate of one of the concentric ramparts.  

One of the many, many temples inside the fort. 

 Picture above - On either side of the bridge are two lakes, used for rain-water harvesting.  The fort has a series of interconnecting lakes, and according to the information Hyder Ali got from his spies, the fort always had sufficient supply of water, and could withstand drought for 12 years! (And this, remember, is a very, very dry, barren area)
Picture below - another tank just outside the fort.   The outflow of the inner tanks collects here.  And apparently, there is one more tank in the marketplace into which the extra water from here collects (called Santhe-honde)

View of the Hidimbeshwara temple (Legend has it that this is where Hidimba and Hidimbi of the Mahabharata lived)

Monkey inhabitants.  Lots of monkeys are around, but they aren't aggressive.

When the fort was built, the  massive boulders on this hill were cut, and the temples and other structures were built with them.  Notches, and holes were cut into the boulder, and iron pegs were inserted into these notches.  Then the boulder was gently prised apart.  Water injected into these notches made the splitting easier.  You can see the notches and holes in the next two photos.

We found the traditional game Navakankari etched on the floor of one of the temples.  Puttachi was thrilled.  One of her favourite games!

This awe-inspiring structure is the Maddu Beesuva kallu, or the Grinding apparatus where Gunpowder was made.  The architectural complexity and immensity of this structure is jaw-dropping.

Visitor information:

Distance from Bangalore - 200 km.  A day trip is completely possible.

Time to drive - 3 hours (without any food/rest stops)  The road is excellent - NH4, the Bangalore-Pune highway, via Tumkur.  And the only place you need to stop are the Toll gates (lot of these on the way!)
We started at 6 30 am, reached at 9 45 am.   Started back at 1 15 pm, reached Bangalore at 4 pm.

Food - Not available inside the fort.  Shops outside didn't seem inviting.  We had taken packed food from home, and we ate it inside the fort.   I didn't notice any dustbins, so please take your own trash bag.

Water - Take lots of it. Hot, dry place.

Best time to visit - The summers are very hot and dry, so winter should be better.  Though we went in December, the sun beat down upon us.  But the wind was cool, and so we didn't feel hot.  (I say wind, not breeze, mind you!)  Take caps, hats, sunscreen.

Is it easy to go around?  - There isn't any hiking as such, but there's a lot of climbing up and down. The steps are steep in some places. So you need to be a little fit to do this.

How much time will it take?  - 3-4 hours is sufficient.

Guide - Guides are available.  We didn't hire any, though.  I had read up quite a bit about it previously, and there are boards here and there explaining what you see, how the fort is designed, etc.

Edited to add:  Here's an informative post with great pics.

Mail me if you have more questions!

Day 2 - Looking back at 2013

2013 was a vast improvement over 2012.  Though 2012 was a momentous one in many ways, I wasn't in a good space mentally.  2013 changed all that, and it showed in my writing.  I wrote and published quite a bit. [Full list here]

13 non-fiction articles published in The Hindu, Deccan Herald and Women's Web.
2 short stories published in online magazines.
1 short story accepted for an anthology
1 short story won an award.
1 picture book for an underprivileged child.
Lots and lots of content written for websites.

Apart from this, I've worked on many short stories - visiting some of them scores of times, and scraping, whittling, fine-tuning, polishing them, and yet, haven't been satisfied enough to send them out into the world.

I've also completed four online courses.

Think Again: How to Reason and Argue -  Duke University - Coursera.
The Science of Gastronomy - Hong Kong University - Coursera
Archaeology's Dirty Little Secrets - Brown University - Coursera
A Brief History of Architecture - MIT - EdX

I've particularly enjoyed the last two, and they have led me to read a lot about India's history, particularly about how India's lost history was rediscovered by the British.

Now that's quite nicely done, even if I say so myself.

In 2014, I wish to write more of fiction, along with all the non-fiction!

But while my writing life is doing well, I've still not scaled up to handling my life intelligently.  Managing finances, being organized, shouldering responsibilities and being pro-active - there's a lot to be desired.  Ask S, he'll tell you.

I also need to learn how to deal with people more wisely.  I've to give more of myself to those I love, and I've to learn how to handle people who are using me as a doormat. :)

I've also not been too successful in handling the new, grown-up Puttachi, and I think I've made several mistakes while dealing with her.  That's something I need to work on.  And I'll share my learning with you, of course!

That's a lot of work!

So what do you have in mind for yourself in 2014?

Day 1 - Happy New Year!

"One admits that this artificial demarcation of the ever ebbing tide of time is unnatural, strange... But it helps to review the past and look with bright hopes forward."
                             - S.Chandrasekhar, Astrophysicist and Nobel Laureate.

[From a letter to his father, picked from the excellent book Chandra:A Biography of S.Chandrasekhar by Kameshwar C.Wali]

This quote echoes exactly what I feel about the new year.

I hope you have a wonderful year!

January is going to be another month of A-post-a-day, so wish me luck! :)

[Read the previous A-post-a-day posts here]

And I'll leave you with my latest article - on MOOCs, or Massive Online Open Courses, my current favourite topic!    Read it here.

e-Addas

Sometimes I feel that the whole of social media is just one big adda!  My article in today's Deccan Herald Living on this topic - It's virtually anytime meet-up in the gizmo world

Tooth fairy tales

Ever wondered what two 6-year-olds talk about? Here's a sample. (I've tried to stay true to their language)

Scene: My kitchen. I'm making chapatis, and Puttachi and her friend K are sitting at the kitchen table, having dinner.

Puttachi: Look how much my tooth is shaking.

K: Look how much mine is shaking. Anusha's tooth is shaking so much that today in school, blood came out of it.

P:  Ganesh's tooth also. When my first tooth was shaking, lots of blood came out.

K: When my first tooth fell, the tooth fairy gave me a gift. She left it under my pillow, but she forgot to take the tooth away.

P: (laughs)

K: Why are you laughing?

P: The tooth fairy is your parents.

K: What? No. The tooth fairy is really there.

P: No, there are no fairies.

K: But you are always talking about fairies.

P: Oh I looooove fairies. I love to imagine them and think about them.  But actually there are no fairies.

K: There are fairies. They live in the sky and come down sometimes, like the tooth fairy. Like Santa Claus also.

P: Santa Claus is also not real.

K: Santa Claus is real. He gave me three gifts once.

P: Santa Claus is also your parents. Your parents gave you the gifts.

K: Noooo why will my parents give me three-three gifts? It was Santa Claus.

P:  (looking at me) Amma, how do I make her understand?

At this point, I quickly changed the topic. I sure hope poor little K hasn't been too scarred by Puttachi. I can just not understand how someone like Puttachi who is always in her fantasy-world can be so clear and particular about reality!

More of Puttachi's thoughts on the Ramayana

So we are into the two-dozenth retelling of the Ramayana.  I have written before about how I've told Puttachi the Ramayana in different stages, adding on layers and sub-stories with each retelling.  And since the last post, we've progressed, and so have her questions. 

If you remember, last time, she'd asked me 

Did Lakshmana also try to lift the bow? If he had, do you think he would have been able to lift it? Then he would have married Sita, no? 

Why didn't Lakshmana's wife Urmila also go to the forest? Wasn't she bored? She should also have gone. 

This time, she asked me:

She: Amma, when Hanumanta went to find Sita, he offered to take her back with him.  Why didn't she go?

Me: She wanted Rama to come and defeat Ravana and then take her back.

She: I think Sita is quite silly, Amma.  She should have gone with Hanumanta.  See, war could have been avoided.  So many people were killed in the war, such a waste.  All that would never have happened if Sita had gone with Hanumanta.

Me: (Smiling at her logic.)

She: (eyes lighting up) Ohhh.. Amma... I think I know why!

Me: Why?

She: Perhaps Valmiki* just liked long stories..... like I do!

*Valmiki wrote the Ramayana.

Bdellophobia?

While we were exploring trails around the homestay, we were told that there was one path through the plantation that made for a good walk, except for the abundant leeches there.   I had had only one experience with leeches before.  One had latched onto me during our trip to Wayanad last year, and naturally, I discovered it only after the fat leech, full of my blood, slid down the inside of my jeans.  I wasn't bothered.  After all, it doesn't hurt.  The only thing is  that blood keeps flowing from the wound long after the leech drops off, until the anticoagulant it has injected wears off.  After this instance, I observed with fascination the occasional leech we passed by, how they stand up on one end, and probe the air with the other end, push themselves forward, stand up and continue probing.

Once I got back, I looked up leeches and read about them, about how they inject anti-coagulant and analgesic into our blood before starting the sucking.  And I marvelled at what an amazing creature it is.   So when our host at Mugilu, when talking about the plantation walk, warned us, "In case you have a phobia of leeches..."  I shrugged it off. 

We went to the plantation, and started walking.  Puttachi noticed a big beetle, and we stopped to watch it.  I bent down to look at it closely, and then I saw next to it, a leech, standing on end, probing the air.  Hey look, I said, and then I saw one more next to it.  And then another, and another. All of them standing on end, probing, searching.....  Then Puttachi said, hey, look at your shoes - and we all looked, leeches were already on our shoes, and crawling up our jeans.  I looked down again, and suddenly it seemed to me that the ground was full of leeches, and I felt that the entire forest floor was rising up and reaching out to me through these filament-like fingers, wanting to suck my blood.  It was like a nightmare. I  couldn't breathe, I clutched my head, tears flowed down my cheeks, and I said something like, "I can't I can't I can't I can't...."   I've never felt that way before!  At first, S probably thought I was joking, and then he realized that something was really wrong, and we all immediately walked back up to safe-ground.  We spent the next ten minutes pulling leeches off our clothes, and checking our shoes and socks to see if we were clear. 

That was such a revelation - sometimes you cannot explain why you are petrified of some things, and why you are not..... in fact, the very next day, our host showed us a leech that was walking on his hand, looking for the right place to latch onto him, and I watched it again with the same fascination as before, from inches away, and felt no fear.  It was only down there, with leeches all around me, that I felt that kind of panic.  

Lessen learned. I'll never pooh-pooh phobias again. 

A short holiday at Sakaleshpur

We took a little vacation this week in Sakaleshpur, about 200 km from Bangalore. On the way to the homestay, we stopped at Manjarabad fort, a star-shaped fort built by Tipu Sultan in the late eighteenth century.  [Click for google image]  He built it as a defensive location.  And it must have really worked well as a lookout place, because the views from the top are quite spectacular.

We stayed at Mugilu, a lovely little plantation homestay.  Clean and comfortable cottages, superb location, wonderful hosts, tasty and home-like food,  the most stupendous grasslands next to it, and loads of inviting walking trails.   

These are  a few pictures of the grasslands.  We walked, ran, played frisbee, and just sat on the grass.  

We, in places like Bangalore are so unused to places where there is not a single soul in your line of sight.  When we were walking on these grasslands, S and Puttachi went ahead, and for a while, they weren't in my line of vision.  I looked around then, and nobody, not one person was in sight, though I could see so far into the horizon!  What a wonderful feeling it is - the feeling of being totally alone with nature!

There are a number of trails that take you up and down the gently sloping hills, next to bright green paddy fields, towards streams, and little huts and villages, and lots and lots of cows. 

We walked a lot, and could have walked a whole lot more.  When we wanted a break, we just sat down on the grass, and were silent.  We could see the sights like the one below.  We could hear the lowing of cows, and the strikingly loud noise of their eating grass.  An odd bee or two buzzed around, and the wind whooshed through the trees.    We could smell the fragrant grass, and the pleasant smell of fresh cowdung.  And we could feel the heat of the sun on our backs.  Ah, bliss.

The picture below is that of paddy fields early in the morning - and Shunti, our guide, companion, and Puttachi's obsession for the duration of our stay.  She is one of the three dogs that live in Mugilu, with the couple who runs it.

And when we wanted to get back to the room, we put our feet up, book in hand, and watched this sight from our balcony.  Early in the morning and during rains, this is a specially beautiful sight due to the clouds coming in.

And there are a number of spots around the place, in case that is what you want to do, this ancient, quaint, Sindhu Brahma temple being one of them.  And yes, cows were grazing here too.

 You can tell we had a good time, huh?

"Shame, shame"

One of my favourite sights is that of little girls, toddling around in short frocks, their frilly underwear peeking from underneath.  But very soon (far too soon) as the little girl grows, it stops being acceptable.  The moment an inch of her panties are exposed, people stand around, and apply a look of disgust on their faces and chant, "Shame-shame."

Around the time Puttachi was about two  years old, I started putting shorts underneath her frocks so that she wouldn't get sand in her underwear at the park.  I later realized that this served another function too.  She could jump, and twirl, and turn somersaults, and do whatever it is that little children must do, without people crowding around and shaming her with the shame-shame chant.

I detest that "shame-shame" chant.  See, I understand the need for making children realize that certain parts are private.  But that is what they are - private.  Not shameful.  These are beautifully evolved, highly functional parts that help us excrete, egest and reproduce.  Why on earth should one be ashamed of them? Why should we express disgust at the underwear that covers them?

I struggle to inculcate in Puttachi the concept of which parts of the body are personal and private, in view of educating her about child sexual abuse. I have to remind her again and again about what is private and what is not.   If I had gone with the shame-shame strategy, it would have worked immediately.  She wouldn't have nonchalantly  lifted her shirt to show any random person the mosquito bite on her tummy (which she would have done until recently.)

But I think it is worth it.  It is not likely that she is going to be ashamed of her own body.  It is not likely that she is going to be like the mortified little child who went into hiding because an outsider accidentally saw him in his underwear.

I think it is essential to make that distinction between shameful and privacy, and teach our children accordingly.  What do you think?

The story online, and a media report

The story, "Kanchenjunga" is now online [Link]

And here is a media report from Asian Connections, Canada, October 4, 2013.

Won a contest!

Another happy dance from me!  My story, "Kanchenjunga" won the Tagore-O'Henry Short Story Contest.  The prize is $500, which is the largest sum I have won in a writing contest so far.

I'll post a link to the story once it is published online.