Treasure from a jewel. This vase was a gift from a very special person the year I moved back to India. I was trying to adjust to being in migraine-inducing Delhi after 12 years of living away, coping with a toxic, soul-sucking job that had sounded amazing in the interview, one I gave up my entire trajectory, security, and lifestyle for only to find they’d handed my designation to someone else. What kept me going through the feeling of, “Did I give up my life for this?” was the family I lived with, a family I sort of borrowed from another family-friend. I moved in with my oldest friend’s mausi, who, with her husband, daughter, husband’s two nieces and nephew, 3 dogs and their house help became my scaffolding, my anchor, my shelter.
I would try to make my presence less of a burden by trying to bring cakes and things for the motley crew from the market and would also get myself flowers to brighten up my space.
I don’t see them a much as I should (ugh, Delhi!) but I still count them in my blessings and am grateful for them every day!
This vase harks back to that time … and yes, I still buy myself flowers.
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Isn’t this seriously cool? I wish I had the space for something like this in my home. This is the office of renowned product and industrial designer Werner Aisslinger in Berlin.
I’m glad my familiar is a mere cat, not a skeleton on a unicycle …
But seriously, one of the better street mime costumes I’ve seen. La Rambla, Barcelona, Spain.
The followup image has a human being (my mother) cupping her hands to offer the bull a better chance at getting more water. I’m not posting that, but there are some other tourists who have pictures of her as well 🙂
MMMM. Everything sounds so appetizing. I don’t know what to pick. What would you prefer? 🙂
This was Delhi. Two sadhus. Two monkeys. I asked if I could take a photo. The man in the photo said “Kyu nahin?” (Why not?) The sadhu behind him called out for money, shouting, “Paisa to de do!” I ignored him. As did the monkeys.
so if you can read Hindi, I’ll assume your first impulse was to take your tea and snacks down to the Ganga’s edge, along with your trusty cake of Medimix soap, and then really laugh loudly and kick up a huge ruckus. Even if we weren’t already laughing out loud, everyone who read this sign out loud was laughing by the time they finished 😀 Big Brother is Watching Mother Ganga!
We reached Haridwar and got to the jetty for crossing the Ganges by boat and clapped eyes on this sadhu, smoking a chillum as he surveyed Ganga Maiya. What was he thinking?
Finally, inspiration for what to do with the only shape and size of anything I can kinda crochet. I found this in a very badly named children’s furnishing store (“SotoMoto.” Yes, that tells me everything about what you retail. Not.) in Delhi’s Hauz Khas village. I thought the lamps were delightful and inspirational. Yay! Finally something I can make that is useful (as opposed to scarves, which are ridiculously impractical for the climate of Mumbai). 😀
Indians never fail to amaze me. We want to etch our names on every space we can find – “Yes, I was here. I really was. So what if I’m never coming back and that it destroys the serenity, sanctity, authenticity, or aesthetic of where I am. Dude, *I* was here!”
I’ve seen celebs try to talk sense into the junta, I’ve heard academics discussing white boards and pin boards at monuments so people can scribble on those rather than the walls, but this … this is the first time I’ve seen something like this and it’s all over the Hawah Beach area of Trivandrum’s Kovalam beach. Unbelievable!