From yet another move...

March 5, 2024

 

I’m writing today from my daughter and son-in-law’s home. I could just call it their/our cat’s home. We are here to serve them — the times they are most demanding are around mealtimes but there are some other times too when they want attention, descriptions of which might find themselves into this post. I’m sitting on the four seater rectangle dining table littered with white and black cat hair. The surface is scratched by late night cat chases that involve jumping on and off it. 

We are here for two weeks, and I wish I hadn’t had to come. I want this constant packing, unpacking, settling, and then moving again energy of this year to halt. I’ve lived less than half the days of this year in my own home. Our cat’s home is still in Singapore and just a ten minute taxi ride from my home so I shouldn’t be unsettled but I am. 

It’s a lower floor and the noises are different here. We can hear early morning conversations and on Sunday a hopefully future basketball champ bounced her ball for hours and hours, probably almost four, in the play area below. I was annoyed by the constant thumping and admired her persistence. The bed is comfortable enough and there are snacks I like in the kitchen. The air is very still as at our place on the 17^th we have a hint of a breeze even on balmy, hot, days. I am finding it hard to find a routine or not necessarily a routine but something that will help me schedule in reading, writing, and exercise time. At the depot road home I was beginning to find the times and spaces where these were occuring though I am nervous that when I return I might find that have lost them again. 

I decided to stick to Tuesday blog writing to help me find the settled feeling. The cats seem to have settled to new human slaves occupying their space. Yoda took no time at all, but his settled-ness might change in a bit. When we came here Saturday, He jumped and purred on the bed we would be sleeping on while Heka ran under her parents’ bed. He seemed glad that he didn’t have to move – the last few times he had come to us he had been very unsettled. Heka came out once the parents had left and went to sit next to him. She looked puzzled. As the evening progressed, I saw that Heka wanted me to adjust to her routines, though at our home she is the first to fit into mine, while Yoda, who doesn’t like change, struggles to settle.

I could just keep writing about them and how much their personalities differ, and where they are similar to each other, or to me, or different from me, but I wanted to write about the conversations I had with my mom in Bombay. The ones that replaced the ones about her memories of life. Most of them were centred around Ram, Ramayana, and the Ram Temple. Not surprised by that because I arrived in Bombay a bit before this unfinished temple was inaugurated by PM Modi and the whole city, and particularly our road where Mr. Ambani, one of India’s multi-millionaires, lives was decorated with posters or signs, many garish, about the event. 

What surprised me was how often we, my mom and I, agreed on things. 

Should they have built a temple to commemorate the birthplace? Me – I don’t care. My mum – yes, but we already have a ton of beautiful temples in India, and they didn’t need to build another lavish one. Hospitals and schools etc. are more needed. 

Should they have destroyed the mosque? Me – no. My mum – no. So what if invaders had destroyed the temple, why should we destroy someone’s mosque. And anyway, they never had conclusive proof there was a Ram Janmabhoomi Temple there. So many small temples claim they are the Ram Janmabhoomi one so there was no need to destroy this mosque to build it at that exact spot. 

Should India be a Hindu rashtra? Me – no. She – no. All religions are important and what has religion got to do with progress of a nation. We are good the way we are. Look what happened to Pakistan and other religious states.

Should PM Modi have done the pran-pratishtha? Me – no. She – if he wanted to let him, shrug. But shouldn’t a proper priest be doing it?

What is the main lesson for you from the Ramayana story (she did watch the episodes that were being broadcast for this event with a beatific smile on her face). My very simplistic answer, that relationships are more important than power. Ram left his throne, one which he probably at some level wanted, for his father, and in my books so he wouldn’t fight with his brother whom his father wanted to give it to even if it was just to fulfil a boon, for it. She – karma, you can’t escape it. Rama a god was born a mortal and went through many things as one for karmic reasons. Also he had to come on earth to defeat Ravana. It was both their karmas. 

And so it went. We argued a bit over whether Ram was right or wrong to send Sita away even after an agni-pareeksha. What might have been the better thing, the better message? How much did his action reinforce ideas of patriarchy and rape culture? 

We argued about our neighbour Mr. Ambani. I said so much lavishness was bad in a poor country like India. She said karma will take care of him and I shouldn’t bother with such things. I said it is also wrong to explain away inequality and injustice by karma and do nothing when perhaps you can. We went back and forth and surprisingly my sister agreed with me. My mom said the next day that at 40, or 50, or even 60, she might have thought like me but in her 80’s she is content to leave it to karma and something bigger than her. 

I realized how much the idea of karma had helped her through that time when she was widowed and alone for so long. I saw how my own interpretation of the lesson of the Ramayana had informed my behaviour with people. I tried first and foremost to attempt to salvage family relationships when there was conflict over money or power. Not that I managed to salvage the relationships where the others wanted money, or power, or just wanted to be right, and relationship, at least with me, wasn’t important to them. So maybe there were times I should have known that another response was better.

I don’t know. That time in Bombay was unexpected on many levels and besides improving my connections to my mother and sister I understood myself a bit better. 

Hekate has emerged from the window shelf in her parents’ bedroom to remind me that it is time to brush their teeth and give them their dental treats. Their mum has found a toothpaste that tastes like chicken. The feral cat that didn’t want to be touched sits patiently when we brush her teeth just to get the treats, greenies, that she is addicted to. Yoda struggles and wants to run away when we brush his, but we are used to holding him tight. Last night he yelled his head off for more than an hour. When I came out, I saw he had peed near the front door — to mark his territory. The neighbour’s cat sniffs at our door at night when she comes out for a walk with her dad. 

This being here is hard and I don’t know if I will have the will, the discipline, the energy to struggle yet again to find a routine of reading and writing and exercise. Perhaps all I will do is sketch with a bit of reading thrown in, but perhaps if I do whatever I do, even if it is faffing, with awareness it could help deepen my understanding of myself. But I might also spend the days feeling headachy and grumpy and cursing this current phase in my life and yearning to be home and settled. I don’t know what will happen.

 

PS – I have used settle seven times (eight counting this one) in the post. I could use a thesaurus and change a few but I think I will leave the words as they are.