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Right now, I’m on sleep mode. My brain’s been hibernating in the dark and dusty corners of nothingness. Ohk! That sounds like a very depressed person. For the moment, I am not! A writing gig(sorta), toddler time, sweltering heat, art projects and the like have kept me away from yours truly. A message from Hema woke me up from slumber mode. I missed writing, writing for myself. I often ask myself whom I write for…Do I write for myself, so I can bring all those emotions, thoughts, ideas and pent-up feelings onto a shrinking couch on WordPress, or do I write for all of you?

I think it is part me and part you. Most days I write for myself. There are posts that nobody  else is privy to…You definitely don’t need to know when I have a WTF moment. There is Facebook for that (not my life, but the hundred other people who think it necessary to post every living, waking breathing moment of their lives on Fb) . No sirrah! Those moments are too personal to share. The ones that do make it on WP are the ones I think most people will enjoy reading and connect with. So today’s post will hopefully connect with all of you and elicit a response.

I’ve never had a bucket list for the longest time. I did not see the need to list anything down since life can bring things your way when you least expect it. So why limit myself to a list was the thinking. As the years passed, I realized there were things I wanted to do in my past that are still hanging loose on the to-do list. So I began making a list. Lists can be limiting is the most common thing I’ve heard from friends, but they can also be liberating. How?

On a day when the stars are not shining very bright, I look back on my list and take stock. It makes me happy and tells me how much I’ve progressed as a person. Most often than not, the feeling is of elation. I am happy with who I am. So why this post then? The last few  weeks, I’ve been contemplating on a very simple yet profound thought – happiness. What makes us truly happy as people? Not the momentary, short-lived kind when you’ve got the latest version of the iPad, no. I mean the kind that makes you smile from within. I hope you take time out every once in a while to do it. This bucket list is atypical. It does not list a fabulous vacation to a fancy destination nor does it list some ambitious project that I am yet to do.  Instead, it lists things that we carry around with us all the time, but seldom use. I’ve forgotten some of these things, and I’m going to add them to my bucket list. I don’t want to look back 5 and 20 years from now and say, I did not do enough of:

Dancing. There is no better release than shaking a leg. Do it with a child and you’ll be astonished how truly happy it can make you. “To dance is to be out of yourself.  Larger, more beautiful, more powerful.”

Singing. I cannot hold a tune for nuts. I go flat, out of tune, and sound down right crappy, but sing I do.  I’ve sung in the company of friends loudly and happily, and I love what it does to me.

Sharing. I need to share something with someone every once in a while. A good cry, a laugh, a message, a recipe and sometimes just silence. I believe in its power.

Cooking. A soulful experience when you share it with someone. So many stories, laughs, endearing moments have happened while putting together a meal.

Walking. “If I could not walk far and fast, I think I should just explode and perish.”  I can belong to a crowd and be alone all at once. It gives me the space and time to put my head in its place.

Planting. “The best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago. The second best time is now.” Plant anything from an idea to a tree and nourish it. It will bear fruit.

Soaking. Anything and everything good that comes my way. Soak in the radiance of the sun, the ringing laughter of a conversation, the innocence of a child, the generosity of strangers, the awesomeness of nature and the simplicity of life.

And when it is all done, I will not forget to smile everyday like I am on camera. If nothing else, it will make me look good.

What else would you add to a list like this?

AD 345 ancestry

 

Intriguing as the title of this post is, so is the history that takes me back in time. When we were kids, I remember my parents telling me that we had jewish ancestry. Of course, we gawked at it then. This was mendacious propaganda that got carried down through the ages. They tried, albeit unsuccessfully. We were dragged to all the get togethers, rituals and ceremonies that surrounded this thing. Years have passed since my parents first dropped those words on us. The past somehow becomes more relevant and urgent when you have offsprings of your own. What my parents tried telling me all those years ago has suddenly become terribly important to me. So I began my quest to understand my history.

Known as Knanaya Catholics, our history goes back to AD 345.  Under the leadership of Thomas of Cana, a total of 400 ( Bagi, Belkuth, Hadi,  Kujalig, Koja, Mugmuth, and Thegmuth.
the 7-tribes representing 7-Sacraments, and the 72-families representing the 72-disciples of Jesus Christ) people migrated from Southern Mesopotamia to the Malabar ( present Kerala ) Coast of Cranganore ( Kodungalloor ). St. Thomas christians at this point already lived in the Malabar region. Being an endogamous community, the Knanaya’s kept their traditions and culture alive, but lived harmoniously amidst the St. Thomas christians. The ruling king, Cheraman Perumal, gave the knananites permission to settle down in Kodungalloor, and bestowed upon them 73 rights and privileges etched onto copper plates.

( Typing this out is giving me the goose bumps. I love the fact that I can go back in time and trace some part of my human existence.)

I had the grand opportunity to visit the very first church built by the Knanaya catholics in Kottayam district during my visit to Kerala. The church is beautifully preserved and the curator knew so much about its history, architecture, artefacts and its people, which is a tad uncommon in historical places. You either find nobody to guide you, you are left to the mercy of leaflets or you are at the mercy of an over enthusiastic tour guide.

The church was built-in 1550 AD by the descendants of Thomas of Cana. The church still retains the baptismal font carved out of granite from 1550. This church is also famous for its two granite crosses known as Persian crosses. One is situated inside the church and the other at the entrance to the church. Both crosses have inscription

in the Pahalavi language, which was the language of the Sassanian dynasty in Persia.

Many scholars and researchers have visited this church and tried

to decipher these inscriptions in Pahalavi. The interpretation of Dr. Burnnel (former Archaeological Director of India) is regarded as the closest translation:

“In punishment by the cross (was) the suffering on this one; He who is true God and God above, and Guide ever Pure.”

How does it matter what my ancestry is? Who cares, right? I care.  It is important to know how I belong in the grand scheme of things. I feel grounded when I know there is something tangible I can go back to. My existence is not an imagined one and that life has meaning and purpose. It is a tribute and a reminder of a generation of people who braved oceans for the promise of new life. I can draw meaning from their stories to inspire mine. I don’t have to look to legends and folk tales to teach life’s lessons to Neil. I have a repository in my backyard

“Distinguished ancestors shed a powerful light on their descendants, and forbid the concealment either of their merits or of their demerits.”
Sallust

Scrub-a-dub-dub

Figured out how to make home-made hand-wash solution that could last us a whole while longer than the store-bought ones. The biggest part in this for me, I get to use my very own scents, if I use the no fragrance bars, and I’m not buying bottles and bottles of plastic.  Kids could pitch in, and it is absolutely safe and fun for them.

Any (2) bar soap of your choice – 4 oz

I gallon of water

2 tablespoon glycerin ( found in any med. store)

One large container

One spatula

Fragrance

Cheese grater

Method:

Grate the bar of soap. Bring the gallon of water to just about where it begins to steam. Add to this the grated soap and stir till it dissolves. Leave it aside until it cools and add the glycerin and stir. Set it aside for 12 hours. Now your gel like, one gallon hand-wash solution is ready.

Neil has no trouble washing hands these days since he helped make the solution.

Bad mud and good mud

We have mud and lots of it! But it is no good. It is devoid of nutrients and feels rock solid. Now rock solid would be good for a relationship, but when it comes to raising those soft succulent tomatoes or crunchy green beans, rock solid is a no, no. I’m frustrated to no end that our garden is infested with pests. I can make them vanish with one big sprinkle of chemicals, but no. Got to work with what we have. My sage has disappeared overnight and only the stalk remains, and so it is with all my herbs. Wil relocate them to safer ground in the hopes of rescuing them.

Scene: Pants above my ankles, fingers all muddy, on my knees and looking in the general direction of  the heavens. Yes! Divine intervention is what we need.

 

Honey Bear

Have you listened to this song by Bryant Oden? It is cute and so singable that it will linger around you most of the day or until you go to bed at least Neil woke up this morning and as usual nudged us up by saying, “it is morning time.” As soon as the sun shines, champ is up and ready for the day. So today he said these golden words and went back to sleep next to us. This was that deep, heavy breathing sort of sleep. He was 5 minutes into it and started screaming in his sleep. It went like this, “Give me my chocolate back honey bear.”

He wept big, beady tears and I tried to wake him from his sleep. Imagine what the world of a child is like? My dreams are so much more complicated. They are complex, layered and sometimes frightful to revisit. My dreams are so unlike what a child wants at this point in his life. This is when I wish he never grows up. I woke him up gently and asked him why he was crying. He hugged me tight and said, “Mama, the honey bear snatched my chocolate. The bear that eats bamboo you know. That bear ate my chocolate. Will you buy me another one today?”

How can I not promise him one for the day? It tugged at me so much. He talked of a honey bear and then layered it with a panda bear who ate bamboo. Maybe it is a manifestation of some big kid at play school snatching something from him. I held onto him for a while and rocked him gently. He was content with being held. The moment passed and then he jumped off and went about his morning. So simple these years are. I hope he learns along the way that life can be simple; as simple as he wants it to be.

We find delight in the beauty and happiness of children that makes the heart too big for the body.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Nisarga

Have your teeth dug into a juicy carrot lately? Or have you sunk your fingers deep into the goodness of organically grown food? This past weekend was an experience in just that. Digging, biting, tasting and learning. Sounds primitive? Well, a large portion of our lives is meant to be lived like that. Especially the part that appeases our gastronomical desires. Our dependence on commercially grown foods has become an addiction.  I’ve certainly  forgotten what it means to grow my own food and eat the fruits of my labor. The last time I remember anything remotely close to eating home-grown fruits and vegetables was way back in the day. My parents were obsessed about growing things all around and over the house. We never understood their passion for green.

Two and thirty years later, I can see why.  The need to live sustainably and eat organically is at an all time high right now. Our conversations day and night are centered around how we can maximize the little garden space we have. This, to grow simple everyday essentials for our use in the kitchen. V and I have been following Mr. Vidari Pollen (as he is popularly known on his YouTube channel) for quite a while now. If he has a fan club, then we are probably the platinum placard holders on that list. We love what he has to say about all things organic.

After waiting for a week or two, we finally managed to snag a visit to his farm. This genius of a man knows everything there is to know about whatever there is to know. There are very few people who take a place on a pedestal in my life. He is one such person. The first thing we learned on this journey was the importance of keeping things organic – soil to final product. His methods of cultivation, vegetable to live stock is all natural. The evidence of which is visible throughout his farm. Healthy soil, robust vegetables, chirpy, clucking hens, and blissful bleating goats. His little herb forest has every imaginable disease curing plant. There was something for everything.

Everything on the farm goes through the natural cycle. If he’s growing gourds for the season, and a bunch of pests attack his priced possessions, he doesn’t go after them with a fertilizer or pesticide gun, he let’s nature take its course. He had posted on YouTube about how his challenge for this season was to grow a gourd larger than the one he grew last year. When we visited him, the gourd was half eaten. He didn’t seem perturbed at all. His take on it – don’t do anything unnatural.

Neil and Sid had a blast. Mr. Pollen’s dogs and the kiddos were a riot. They frolicked amidst the crisp green carrots and Brahmi beds. His bed of Brahmi’s would put our little pot of it to shame. Each of us took one very important message away from this visit – be good to mother earth. Take only what you need, and we will have enough for everyone. How is it that life’s most simple messages are the hardest to follow?

 

P.S. We also took a bag of suppotas and limes away. He wanted us to taste some of the seasonal fruits on his farm. They were by far the sweetest set of suppotas we’ve ever tasted. Mum made pickle out of the limes, and needless to say, they absolutely rocked!

 

Hibiscus or Jamaica or Rosemallow

“”What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.”

Why this post on hibiscus? The last few weeks have been busy with research on how I can make things at home for the family. By that I mean, how can I reduce our dependency on chemical products bought from the store. So beginning from soaps and all the way to lotions, I’m going the homemade, natural way. My first stop in this journey is to tend towards something that is available in our garden. It is perennial and is available anytime I need it. So hibiscus or Jamaica or Rosemallow as it is called is excellent stuff for the hair. Now, I know for a fact that V will do a double take if I suggest anything on the lines of using hibiscus on his hair, but momma and sonny will go the natural route.

For people who have an aversion for pasty hair masks, this may not be your thing. You could, instead use the hibiscus hair-oil recipe. This has been used in my family and just about anyone in Kerala who grows hibiscus. This plant is beautiful in every sense of the word. The flowers are used as an offering during worship, and it also has great uses in Ayurveda.

For the mask:

Hibiscus leaves enough to make about 1/2 a cup

5 fresh flowers

Wash the leaves and flowers and blend them to a fine paste. Apply liberally over hair and scalp and let sit for 30 mins. Rinse your hair with luke warm water. You could use a mild shampoo if you chose, but remember not to use anything to harsh. You will feel the difference right away. You could use this mask twice or thrice a week.

For the hair oil:

5 flowers. They can be fresh or a day old.

3 fresh hibiscus leaves

3 Tulasi leaves

I cup oil ( whatever you prefer for your hair)

Chop the flowers and leaves into small pieces, and crush it. You will get about 1/2 a cup of it. In a pan add just a little of the oil, then add the chopped up leaves and flowers. When the flowers and leaves begin wilting and release a leafy smell, add the remaining oil. When the oil gets luke warm, turn off the stove.

Allow it to cool. Sieve the homemade hibiscus hair oil into a glass bottle.

Before bathing warm the hibiscus hair oil and apply on hair and scalp and do a massage. Wait for 10 min. and take a bath. If you use this homemade hibiscus hair oil at least once a week consistently, it will help your hair grow well.