An Alchemist's Blog

A Letter (sadly it was an email) to Pico

I started writing to Pico to thank him after meeting him at the recent Jaipur Literature festival between Jan 21 and Jan 25. The email turned out to be, what i feel is a tribute to the times I've met and known him. The email does not however do justice, by not referring to the hundreds of encouraging emails that Pico has written to me in between these meetings that have helped me do so many things including write my novel. However, here it is - an acknowledgement of my debt to Pico Iyer, global soul par excellence, renowned and sensitive writer, my husband's first cousin and my friend and guide.

P.S. (to the reader of this post) - I had thought I would write a scintillating first person account of the festival as seen through my eyes and make burn with envy those who read of my escapades which included lunches with Vikram Seth, watching the Big B in person, flirting with William Dalrymple, a tete-a-tete with Vikas Swarup, musical nights with the stars of literature and music in one homogenous group and much more. But I replace the desire to write more about those worthless experiences with the piece below.

My dear Pico,

 

If I were to divide the last 20 years of my life into chapters, I'd surely punctuate each with my meetings with you. For something momentous seems to be happening or about to happen each time we have met. I see you as an alchemist here!

 

As of now, I remember meeting you five times (correct me if I'm wrong!) The first was at my wedding in Delhi in 1988. It was a most momentous occasion for me. And - I confess - I have very blurred memories of our meeting. I was meeting more than half of Ajay's family then and it was quite a tidal wave already!

 

The second meeting would have been in London in, I suppose, 1990. I recall that quite clearly. Ajay and I met Hiroko and you at a cafe of sorts and had something to eat on a little table on a pavement. If I'm not getting carried away by my imagination, I recall chequered table cloths. I remember being enchanted by both Hiroko and you as she wore a most unforgettable wide brimmed white hat and you were so charming and laughed all the time (and you still do). It was mostly you and Ajay who talked at this meeting about the family you share. The women were quiet, Hiroko by lack of a common language and I, because i was just happy to be that way. But I do remember you asked me about various things such as how I liked London and other things about our holiday around Europe. You had made a connection already by perceptively picking on our shared traveller instincts.

 

The third, I guess, was Kyoto in 2001. Oh, what a wonderful visit that was. While the cheery blossomed, I think I must have actually sowed the seeds of wanting something different out of life than a corporate career. Kyoto, the place you lived so close to, you yourself and your wonderful wife, all served to show me a life different from mine and so beautiful.

 

Then came the literary festival in Hong Kong (I think you said it was 2005). I remember your visit to my study table and I felt truly blessed. All the struggles with writing before that seemed worth it. I was really overwhelmed that day and remember feeling stupidly tongue-tied and speechless amongst other things. The true weight of what I was trying to do hit me then and while I was unsure in parts about whether I was ready for that challenge, another part of me decided I had to do it nevertheless. But even if I doubted myself, you never did and sent me hurtling down that path faster than I would have gone otherwise. It was within a week or so of that meeting that I started writing 'The Mall'. And at every step after that, whether the first reading of the entire novel, or editorial comments, or looking for an agent and publisher, you played a crucial part.

 

And finally came Jaipur last week and the serendipity of our wonderful meeting right at the start of the proceedings. It was another literary festival, but felt like a lifetime after the Hong Kong one. I am on the brink of another world - the literary one I daresay - and I've probably lived a whole lifetime in the gap between those last two meetings. I've certainly learnt a lot, the most important lesson being, if you really want something, you can have it! (There's even some Obamaspeak! )

 

Well, I am certainly waiting to see you again, and not only to see what turn my life is going to take next.

 

All my very warmest wishes to you, my fondest love to Hiroko,

 

Mohyna

 

P.S. - I'm posting this email to you on my blog, I feel so convinced it is a tribute to your friendship.

 

From China (Hong Kong) to Mumbai and Chandani Chowk to China

The first time we felt inclined to take part in a marathon was in Hong Kong. Both Ajay and I participated in the 10 km run in Feb 2005 along with another equally interested couple - Naina and Rakesh. We had a huge amount of fun training for the event. At least Naina and I did train. We met for practice runs three times a week, were disciplined with ourselves and promised we'd actually run all the way. In the end we had a good feeling of having completed the event in a fairly decent time having run every step with all sincerity. Both of us non-runners, non-athletes were quiet happy with the effort we had made.

The next year we did not take part, though we had dreams of doing 21kms this time. Somehow other things had overtaken our lives - writing for me and sending her son to boarding school for Naina and there was just no inclination. Then in 2007 we both moved out of Hong Kong and the partnership came to an end. 2008 was too soon for me to take part in the Mumbai marathon. Amongst other things I had not made the mental move to India yet!

Then came the opportunity once again in 2009. Mallika was running to raise funds for an orphange in Bangalore. We decided as a family to run for her cause. The flat 6 km. Dream Run was much less of a challenge than the ups and downs of the 10 km. Hong Kong course. However the heat in Mumbai made up for the length of the Hong Kong event. What Mumbai lacked in organisation was recompensed in fun and colour. Celebs were there to add masala (missing in Hong Kong!). There were plenty of groups, posters, causes and costumes in Mumbai (alas, none of this tamasha in Hong Kong). People ran in all manners of attire here from chappals and salwar kameezes to shorts and professional gear. Hong Kong was much more business-like with everyone properly dressed and quietly going about their marathon.

The streets in Mumbai were thronged with on-lookers. They were all probably there to look at the celebs, not us! But they were there! The major crib in Hong Kong had been that there was no one to cheer the runners on the streets. I can so believe that of busy Hong Kong! But the Mumbaikar had more heart. They were there in the hot sun and singing and dancing on the sidelines to the blaring Bollywood film music provided at every corner, more often than even water and facilities! But more than the recorded music, what was uplifting were the live musicians. There were two groups belting out good rock music from elevated stages with professional sound. They definitely got the feet running when in earshot. Another group may not have been as professional looking or sounding, but they touched a chord with their 'Rock On' themed songs and had everyone smiling as they trundled past! Just one more reason for me to believe that 'Rock On' is going to be as iconic a movie of this time as say, 'Hare Rama Hare Krishna' was of ours.

The marathon was huge in Mumbai as it always is and participating in it was one more way of identifying with our home. We are all very glad we took part. For donations to her cause contact Mallika at 09920801414 or write to me!

Then in the evening we took ourselves off to see 'Chandani Chowk to China'. It felt like a strange coincidence that in the morning the marathon had brought us half circle from China (Hong Kong ) to Mumbai and in the evening the movie took us full circle back to China, so to speak! It was a very idiotic film but Akshay was funny. He was entertaining, though the film was chaotic, choppy but cheerful.  

That's it folks for this post. Be well!

Divine Astras

Having just finished reading Chitra Banerjee Devakaruni's Panchaali's Mahabharata or Palace of Illusions my head is buzzing with battles and prophesies and plans of vengeance aided by divine intervention. It was a wonderful read that I thoroughly enjoyed. It brought home to me a number of truths about the epic itself, that i had, oddly enough, not really focussed on before.

The Mahabharata is probably the sexiest book i've ever read. It's subtle innuendoes and references to that biggest human failing of all are aplenty. In this alone it makes itself less of an epic, not only a telling of heroic tales, but more of a story. This story is about human beings and not just gods and godesses who, too, appear to have their own failings and weaknesses. The relatability to the tale is it's nicest quality. It appears to have relevance even today if we scratch below the surface. And Chitra Banerjee Devakaruni has allowed us to shed our inhibitions and do just that.

The warring factions could be two large industrial houses in today's India. The Ambani brothers for one. Or the Reliance-Bombay Dyeing fued of yester years could be compared given a little imaginative license. There are characters then and now, that fit the bill exactly or with a bit of creative tweaking. It was quite exciting actually to see the similarities, and futility, of events thousands of years apart.

I realised, too, not for the first time that the author of the tale was actually Krishna. Vyasa was part chronicler, part actor -  when his ego got the better of him. The Mahabharata was conceived, plotted, played-out by none other than Krishna. In fact it would not be an exaggeration to say it was a large puppet show where master pupeteer was our very own Krishna.

I must say, I enjoyed the woman's perspective with which Chitra Banerjee Devakaruni purports to have written this version. I am glad she was not a feminist, glorifying the role of the women in this story. Instead she told it as it was, but with a deeper appreciation of what the women felt, whether it was good, bad or indifferent. I think she especially deserves praise for her characterisation of Draupadi. She was so human, so real. She was no goody-goody saccharine sweet heroine that our movies and TV serials are used to portraying her as. She was fire-spitting, vengeful, proud and haughty and yet she always managed to hit the spot in the reader's heart. I never thought of her as hateful or mean. She managed to justify each of her questionable actions so well, we readers felt we would have done the same, had we been placed in her stead. Her character was sculpted artfully and once again could be related to with all her weaknesses and strengths as much as one would to a present day character or real life person.

Draupadi's love for Karna had never been so out in the open to the reader as it was through Chitra Banerjee Devakaruni's book. It was bold and I loved the way Draupadi dealt with it. Feeling it, not showing it. Burning with it all her life, knowing it was wrong merely to feel that way, finding salvation from her desires for Karna only in death when she goes to his arms in heaven. Who would have thought a woman with five husbands would actually need a sixth to love and cherish her in the way she desired!

Each of the mighty characters of the story had failings, including by the way, Krishna, who was as human as he has been in any story, yet his divinity was known to all. In this this story is more real than the Ramayana where Vishnu's avatar, Rama, is truly a God who walks on earth. Not so in the Mahabharata. All the characters are real. They could be you or me. The beauty is that the story points out these flaws and faces them as weaknesses. It does not hide behind perfection or godliness. It also hints at what one can do to conquer one's weakness. If Arjun was an egoistic kshatriya prince, he is reduced to a eunch, even if it is only for a year. Why a eunch? The curse he was given by Urvashi could have turned him to a dog or a snake or any other reprehensible life form. But he turns into a eunch. Maybe it was for him to appreciate another's point of view. To awaken in him the female energy he so lacked. Yudhishtir lost everything to dice, he a man most righteous. He could have been lured by flesh, duped through drink. But it was dice, a game requiring no mind, only luck, that brought him down. Why? It is a lesson to those of us who pride oursleves on our thinking rational selves, that there is a role that luck, fate and destiny play that cannot be forgotten. We must bow to such forces and recogise when they are at play. We must not let pride in ourselves blind us to the work of such forces.  Other examples abound. But this brings me to an important tool that the Mahabharata arms us with. That of divine astras.

I believe we each have a weakness, much like the plentiful characters of the Mahabharata. We have more than one, in fact, but one is bigger or worse than all the others put together. Identify it. If this lifetime is to be of any use to any of us, find that big fault that has been given to you. And then work with all your god given might to overcome it. Find your divine astra to fight that demon. It is your right to earn and obtain it. Use prayer, meditation, yoga, concentration, pranayam, bhakti, chanting, solitude, rituals, worship, abstinence, penance, doing your karma or anything else to identify and overcome your weakness. For, to me, that is what the Mahabharat urges us to do.