In the Direction of A North Star
Of Summer, and Fall.
“The problem is whether we are determined to go in the direction of compassion or not. If we are, then can we reduce the suffering to a minimum? If I lose my direction, I have to look for the North Star, and I go to the north. That does not mean I expect to arrive at the North Star. I just want to go in that direction.” Thich Nhat Hanh, Zen Master and Buddhist Monk.
Hello everyone, and a warm welcome to the new readers joining last month!
Hope those in the States had a good Labor Day weekend.
While in the US, Labor Day typically signifies picnics, back-to-school preparations, and the start of fall, here, it merely represents the tail end of the monsoon season, with showers hurrying along to catch up with their departing monsoon friends and the start of cooler weather across the country.
In the North, it heralds the start of the Indian fall season, and sometimes, snowfall ahead of a cold winter, in the Himalayan regions of Kashmir, Almora, and other hill-stations, and of course, in Delhi.
In India, the international day of celebration of workers is observed on May 1.
So, Monday turned out to be, in Bangalore, a breezy and cool late summer day.
Writing while sitting outside on a large verandah lounge under rather old sacred fig trees with their large branches draped high above the glass roof of an outdoor café, the breeze offered reminders of the fresh air, and an Americano served as a welcome break from the hotter temperatures last week.
The locals who have lived here for the past 50 years, and elders of those times, never tire of sharing that houses in Bangalore did not even have a ceiling fan back in the day due to its cool weather year-round. Now, people cannot live without an AC, and this year, summer fought spring to be first in March.
Even-keeled temperatures year-round have given way to unpredictable weather and off-season flus, due in no small part to the vanishing green cover. Air-conditioned offices, stores, cars, and homes are more common than not—a fact more associated with the heat and humidity of Delhi, Mumbai, and Chennai. Not Bangalore.
So, I sat outside and thought of North stars, and this quote of Thich Nhat Hanh came to mind.
Soon, I shall hit a milestone of time (year), stories (127), and words (150,000 or 3 novels).
There are still stories to be told—of the ancient boy who sought his father’s love, of the warrior king who found peace at last, of the modern ways to interpret the wisdom of the ancients including the animal stories, of businesses that are thriving and changing everyday lives, the premium post on the travel to Delhi, and the continuation of this ancient series. Some are on the back burner as my shoulder heals and I slowly return to typing.
This month, I added another episode to the premium series, Mystery of Faith, with a focus on a foremost monk and an intellectual-philosopher giant who founded four foundational monasteries and temples that are of great import in India and continue to run to this day.
I also introduced a new post on curated odd tales—some funny—reported in newspapers locally.
The Wisdom Series continued with three additions this month, including one on controlling the mind, which I adapted from the Gita to resonate with our modern world.
On this wisdom note, I bid you good tidings until next month!
p.s. Why not let me know which stories in the catalog you most enjoyed? Your feedback helps me navigate to the right star for this publication.
Read my other monthly roundups under ‘Musings.’
I have been through it all, Jayshree. In the decades of transition from Bangalore to Bengaluru, I am constantly stunned by how the city has changed. Growing up in the 1950s and 60s, my 17 cousins (you heard right; my maternal grandparents had 6 daughters and 2 sons) and I spent our summers in the sleepy town where nothing happened till mid afternoon. It's now impossibly huge. Going across town can be an ordeal of 2 to 3 hours. In my childhood days, you never went to Bengaluru without sweaters and warm clothing. Nowadays, a thin T-shirt can be a bit much. Still, it is a lovely city that has retained many of its best features. Lal Bagh continues to be an amazing garden and arboretum. Down the street, the original MTR (Mavalli Tiffin Rooms) has the best masala dosas anywhere in the world. Driving through, or better yet, walking within Cubbon Park is a pleasure. The South Parade maintains a lot of its colonial style. But the growth seems relentless. I wonder if, or where, it will stop.
I confess that when I hear the word Bangalore, the first thing that comes to mind is the Bangalore Torpedo (that device soldiers use to clear obstacles). Not that nickname for a fiery designer cup of tea at an Indian restaurant that the waiter warns you about emphatically of the Hindi meaning of "spicy"(surface of the sun) or "hot" (fresh lava). By the way, "hindi" is the Filipino word for "no". I hear that from my wife. Maybe "hindi" would be a good word to remember when your waiter asks, "You want that extra spicy?" Hindi!
I live on the Florida Gulf Coast, about 18° higher in latitude than Bangalore. We have oppressively hot summers. But here too September signals a relief with a cooler evening breeze signaling the coming of our pleasant mild winter. Almost time for that switch from sweet tea to hot tea.