Journeys

I told my brother I was going to Inglistaan tonight and he asked: Why UK.
Well, why not UK? For one, if dear Kate and Wills can visit The True North Strong And Free, surely someone should pay a return visit. We know our manners. eh?

To answer that question less facetiously: to meet Amma through Shakespeare, Jane Austen and a visit Westminster Abbey. She opened the world of language and reading for me as a little girl as did Pappa. She sat patiently on the stone bench in Panaji, Goa teaching me to read. Even before that, she would read aloud to me and translate difficult words to Konkani. Gently, every so firmly, she reminded me to write like myself, not someone else; a tall order for a while who devoured Enid Blyton's stories of eggand cress sandwiches and hard boiled eggs, heather and moors. But I did it, slowly and steadily, I learned to tell my own stories and the tories of my people in words that were authentically mine.
As the first born with three younger siblings, I had been sharing her since 6 and left home to get married at 27. I was never given the opportunity to travel alone with Amma in her lifetime, so this is it. Now I can take her with me wherever I go and this is the place that comes to mind. My literary jaunt with my mother.

AND they speak the language !!!

My camera, my journal and mindful moments are on the agenda.

Also I need the experience of travelling alone without dread to break the cycle of seeing Amma hurt and in pain. Both times in 2009 and 2010, I did that. When I flew to Mumbai within 24 hours armed with an emergency visa from the Consulate, I knew or at least anticipated what I was going to.

This time, it's for me. The moment I saw her lying there, minutes after she passed, the picture I carry in my cellphone, I was inspired to live my life not just for my children but also for myself. Although I have Veena, my new born niece waiting in Mumbai, I do not yet have the courage to land in my city and not find Amma; yesterday I had a meltdown just thinking of that.

UK tonight and Vipassana on July 20th are two such attempts.

Yesterday, Disha helped me plan, pack, cull and repack. Ashray helped me pick a camera and is going to teach me to how to operate it. It takes great courage for parents to let their children test their wings. However it takes immense and unconditional love on the part of children to let their parent be a person.

Amma gave birth to me, but my children are helping me grow. They are pushing me out of the nest and waiting for me to test these new wings. What more could I ask for?

"Look Mamma, I made my own lunch, you don't need to worry about me"
" Go Mamma, just go"
" Mamma, I am soooooo proud of you"

I must have gone through multiples lifetimes of misery and strife to be gifted two children as caring, loving and so soul-connected as these two. Now, does that somehow sound better than being asked: "What have I done to deserve children like this". I must tell Amma that when I see her in London.

So back to the question" Why UK"

Surely there is a primordial connection between this place and my soul. The language I learned as a 5 year old has paved my way to take my place in a new world on my terms. Although I mostly think ( and rant,... Oh no, I DO NOT SWEAR) in Konkani, English is my language of expression whether to appreciate the thinking of others or to express my own. I am fascinated by history and how that of my people and my country of birth are intertwined with this place. I smile when a dear, dear friend urges me to sign up on Multicultural Day on behalf 'of the Mother Country' and then curl up in a chair laughting beside her at the gaffe. We went to London for our visa interview in 2001, I delight in the narrative of P.G. Wodehouse and believe me, have received the serendipitous visual treat of seeing a fine gentleman step out from the Underground (I am told Professor Dumbledore has that map on his thigh) in a bowler a la Bertie Wooster.

So this is it: my first ever solo pleasure trip. I have travelled on work, travelled to welcome, travelled to say goodbye, to mourn and grieve. I have travelled to answer questions about my suitablity to settle in Canada and I have travelled to get somewhere.

This time, I am travelling just 'cuz I can. And a soulmate on a sunny patio reminded me the other day that it is okay to do just that. Hungry eyes here too.

Who knows where I will go next: Panama to visit my brother, Antarctica to pay tribute to Jacques Cousteau, snorkelling at the Great Barrier Reef, the tomb of Ho Chi Minh in Hanoi, watch the sunrise over Fuju Yama....

That should be fun. Wait for the postcards.