Wednesday, 21 October 2015

      Sunday market-practical lessons in TRUST


(Kochi musings)

I have always been passionate about my Sunday morning market visit. Fishwala, followed by chickenwala followed by purchases from each of the ammas/chettas who sit along the road and sell fresh vegetables.

I select the fish, choose the cut and proceed to the chickenwala. Select the bird, check the weight (make sure that it is small) and proceed ahead for the vegetables .veggies selected and then it is time to sum up the amount. With great confidence I ask the amma ‘etra? (How much)’###### I understand only part of it.

I turn to buyer friends around and confirm the figure, pay the amma and walk away, wishing that she is able to sell to the last bhindi and the last stalk of cheera on her mat.I happened to take along a friend one Sunday. She quipped “how can you just walk off from there? What if the fellow flicks the meat? You do not even bother to get things weighed again.”
I had to think. “Look! How can I ever know how much the scale on the fish or the tiny feathers on the poor bird weigh? It’s alright .If he flicks the meat, his god knows it. As far as I am concerned, I have committed enough crime by having the bird slaughtered. Add to it the burden of mistrusting the guy. Forget it.”

“And what about the vegetables amma? You can count only till 15(patanj) in Malayalam and then you straight jump to 100(noor).”Asked my friend. 

I reminded her once again’ her god is watching. A rupee or two will surely make a difference to her and then, I do cross check with fellow buyers and make new friends. Believe you me, many times when we meet again after a week or so, our hands come upon the same bundle of leaves. No, no, I can’t be mistrusting so many people on a beautiful Sunday morning. So, I leave their hisaab (accounting) to them, pay my dues and head back home to stock my famished refrigerator.
                                                                                                      

Monday, 19 October 2015

Misty comes calling a Yoga class

Misty comes calling a Yoga class
This one is for Bharti - thank you for being with me since July 2010!
On a beautifully wet and torrential raining morning when all one wants to do is to sip on tea and watch/hear the rain and read every possible corner of the newspaper it was time for my class.  When it pours this way my lungs need to work harder as my voice tries to reach over the huge hall and rise above the bantering on the tiled roof. Notwithstanding the rain that day, nearly everyone had assembled, taken position and waiting to begin. Our attention was drawn to one of our regular friends taking unusually long at the door and we also heard soft cooing of a dog/doggie (said colloquially)."Must be one of the strays that have accompanied her.”Said one. “How nice’ said another. ‘I hate dogs’ quipped the third voice. “And we have so many strays around here.”
The door opened and we found Bharti with a beautiful Dachshund on the leash.
"Oh! Yours???" "No".
"Whose is it? This one will not let you do yoga, Bharti."
My friend was already exasperated. I never found her missing her class for anything (a discipline I appreciate till date). She had a request in her eyes. ‘Can I please get her in? The masters have gone out of town and I volunteered to keep her. Her name is Misty ’. Oh! We had another lady joining the class. As long as she stayed in one place it was ok I thought. So that is how lovely Misty joined the class on a Misty  morning.
Just to encourage regularity, I sometimes allow my students to bring along the lil’ ones.  They read or play with their toys as moms do yoga. This was our first experience with a canine.
 Between my counts of exhale and inhale could be heard the soft cooing of Misty. At the time of sitting postures she went around smelling all toes, looked amused and followed the hand movements with her neck. And being intelligent realized where all she would not be welcome. Seated forward bends were a pain for Bharti as Misty wanted to be in her lap all the while. At the time of standing postures Misty occupied the mat of her foster mom as she performed all asana on bare floor. ‘Anything for you Misty as long as you allow me to do yoga.’ we moved over to the lying down postures, Misty grew restless. She thought everyone was going to sleep.  She soon settled snuggling next to Bharti, adjusting herself in the curve of her waist and resting her head on Bharti's shoulder. It was a beautiful sight - a perfect picture of man and animal co-existence.
 As we sat down for collective AUM chant, Misty joined in with her “Ooooooooo”, reminding me of the movie 101 Dalmatians. Shavasana found Misty on Bharti's tummy going up and down with each breath.
Misty got caught in the excitement as mats were rolled up. I thanked my students for consenting to the unique experience and Misty for being a good girl.

That day I regretted my decision of not allowing mobiles in the class as I could not capture the sight of a canine through a yoga session.