Mental Excursions

Confessions of a Hopeless Wanderer The picture of Dolbadarn Castle at Llanberis Pass, Wales, on the computer screen stopped me in my track. Forgetting what I was going to do, I stared at it as if mesmerized, almost giddy with that all too familiar strong feeling of wanting to travel. This is no small, ignorable feeling. I fear a psychiatrist could diagnose it as dromomania , or vagabond neurosis . We know what Greeks mean by mania , and dromos , I read, is running; together it means the ‘uncontrollable longing to travel’. A kinder person will merely call it ‘wanderlust’ or ‘itchy feet’, and leave it at that. I am forever ready to travel, within or outside the country. Whoever said, “Whenever I return from a trip, my dromomania has me planning the next,” was surely talking about me. For me, travelling is the purpose. The moment the words chalo chalein (Let us go) appear on the family Whastapp chat, my whole being goes into hyper mode producing perhaps all-dopamine, serotonin,...

Low effort, feels almost healthy! I decided to make a chunky vegetable soup for lunch, the kind that fills you up, but does not swish like waves in your stomach, forcing you to lie in a horizontal position with your mind lost in vague dreams the whole afternoon . The only occupants of the fridge - corn, carrots and tomatoes, stared back at me. Fortunately, an easy soup, it did not require several varied steps or processes. What it however, involved, was peeling, washing, chopping, sauteing the vegetables and aromatics. It was a long time before I could add the spices, water and let it cook. My hands went in autopilot mode, but the mind wandered. What if one does not feel like going on a culinary adventure, has no sous-chef to prep or wants a quick-fix solution? Naturally, my mind turned to instant soups. Yes, I have tried a few different brands and have my favourites. But no, I am not naming them unless they pay me. And my greater joy is in sharing my new-found gyan about thes...

Age-Old Colours of Devotion Sharad Purnima (the Autumn full moon),  Nathdwara painting,  National Museum of Asian Art,  Smithsonian Institution I hope life has been treating you all kindly since I last wrote. It is Janmashtami today, the birthday of Lord Krishna. Long ago, when Mani was posted in Varanasi, my three and a half-year old woke up on Janmashtami morning, delighted to know there was no school. “Why?” he asked. “Because it’s Bhagwan Krishna’s birthday,” I said. Only very recently had he discovered that birthday meant cake, junk food, colas, and his best friend Siddharth. The idea that God’s birthday could exist without a ‘budday paaty’ baffled him. I tried explaining that we humans celebrate it for Him, but he wasn’t having it. By noon, I was tired and out of arguments, and then God Himself came to my rescue. Mani called to say we were invited to the evening Janmashtami celebrations at the RPF (Railway Protection Force) barracks. That was a big weigh...