me in mYsore

At Depth of Green..

 
Being in Mysore is being myself.. only me..a space of my own, ironically, silence, solitude and strains of music for company.  commitments shuttle you to and fro.. no complaints..as I have Mysore to turn to for a whiff of relief, and freedom. Now,the  weather is next best to your skin as it caresses and comforts, with showers of rain choosing to play hide n seek instead of pouring n pouring for hours together.
The house needed my attention as the bills had to be paid, the tv had to be repaired and the cable connection had to be restored, Santhosh left me in Mysore and drove off to Bangalore. The cloudy monsoon weather gifted me an illusory feel..  as though my cosy quilt was inviting me to snuggle in, as it had been lonely for quiet a long time, I obliged with drooping lids and  and slipped into  soft slumber .. n  lo it was past seven. lit the lamp and my sambrani dhoop, I left home to trod on the lanes I used to frequent, to the divine Ganesha who was clothed in creamy butter, with cherries for toenails, peppercorns for eyes, leaves and stems are made to look like garlands and jewellery.( bennai alankara), was soothing beyond words.The theertha was dribbled into my hands and a jasmine flower  given as prasad. I dipped my fingers into the kumkum bowl and streaked it on my forehead. A silent discourse with the Lord, telling him how I miss him, and I m on my way to the vegetable wala and the small crowded grocery store, which cd rival a supermarket, the boy there waved a cheery helloooo," thumba naalayi, kaanthaayillaa "( havent seen you for long). Well.. Im missed,, intoxicating ...Right next used to be a small hotel reeking of sambhar, where i used to inadvertantly quicken my pace.. I stopped short.. it was all done up in creamy ivory white and a man was playing  Yemen Raga on his flute. The small space had a small vertical garden fixed on a wall and small brass pots of indoor plants. seeing me, a lady with Italian features invited me in with folded hands.. namaste.. a very small space.. I sat on the wooden bark of a tree which served as a stool, and they handed me a small cup of phal ras, a banana crush laced with cardamom, and their menu on a on a wooden board.  I looked around, not so comfortable on the wooden stool, I must admit, an antique wooden round book shelf, filled with books, fitted in the centre of the room,(it seemed to be pleading for salvation) and another wall with wooden shelves are arranged with essential oils and herbal powders and potions. sambrani fumes get pathetically diffused amidst the cooking and transit of the staff. black and white photographs of Ramana. Maharshi, Aurobindo, and Jiddu Krihnamurthy lent a holistic feel.   The menu consisted of a variety of pastas, soups and salads sprout sandwiches, and fruit juices. I ordered a soup and sprout salad for Rs 100 and got ready to harness my mind to the ambience they strive to offer. 

Mr Tarneiv, came and introduced himself.. a techie from Canada...wanted to give back to his motherland, do business including a social cause... present and promote a holistic lifestyle, a noble idea indeed..but doubts soared in my mind. India.. after Canada..He explained..this was a small start towards building a holistic community..read, write, eat good food, sing and
share ideas.. he wd move over to a larger space later. Just then Rahul Dev, the bollywood villain barged in and here I am... clicked a pic with him. The young boy, a techie too fell in the groove, as he too left his job to dedicate his life to Sangeeth. I wished him all the best and he asked me to sit for some time more..I did and at ten, walked back home with mixed emotions. The road less traveled..is the one Tarneiv chose to live..