Christianity's entry-point to the Americas

A quick telegram :

Mexico similar to India. Missing Bangalore. STOP. It's COLD! Unexpected, feeling stupid. STOP. Women smoke more. STOP. People stare! STOP. Should learn Spanish to visit. STOP.

If I could time travel to the 1960s, that is how my message would have looked. Sending message might have been costly then, but I guess Telegram beats Twitter any day, simply because of its ingenuity and necessity of the service.

A mild digression and here is the day-by-day account of our Mexico trip. This is September 21, 2012.

Day Uno:

Though I consider myself a morning person, a flight at 7.15am was a bit too much, that too an international travel. The cab picked us at 3.50am. Being in LA, Mexico sounds like just over the border but it was a whole 3 hrs 30 mins journey in the air.

While chalking out the tour itinerary, we had settled down on the major sites we would like to cover in our 2.5 days' trip. Conveniently, we assumed that the country will be as hot as LA and sniggered at the people who were wearing coats at the airport. Little did we know we were the actual dodos.

As we approached the airport, the one thing that caught our attention was the roof-tops, all of them were red in colour, rendering a lovely hue to the entire city. A small needle-in-haystack search later in the Mexico City airport, we traced our hotel pickup chauffeur. The drive to the hotel was smooth, especially with the chatty driver. She tried her best to convey her welcome in broken English. And we literally were amazed by the sceneries around - roadside outlets, peak traffic, mindless pedestrians, hawkers, a mix of narrow and broad streets, flyovers - everything looked so similar to Bangalore that we yearned to be back home.

The differentiation stood at road-signs, posters, graffiti, and 'Viva Mexico' crying out from all around in Spanish. And of course, the pain in conversing. It reminded me of my initial days in Bangalore where dumb-charades had become a survival tactic. We almost cursed ourselves for not learning the language before visiting. Even the hotel staff and the 'policia' are non-English speakers!

The currency conversion is around 12 pesos per dollar currently. A decent deal from Hilton and the conversion rate made our life somewhat peaceful here. We reached the hotel room just before 3pm. A bath and lunch later, we headed for a small walk to Metropolitan Cathedral. There was a huge procession on the streets. All we could garner was, it consisted mostly of college students and they were demanding some sort of employment rights. Anyhow, it was a huge chaos on the roads. The combat policemen were around to control the crowd.

The walk to the old church is quite interesting. The buildings around are at least 300-400 years old, making the whole set-up quite surreal. It felt as if the people here transformed over time, keeping the background intact. And how the people stare! Young and old, men and women - they just scan you top to bottom! Sounds so much like back home or maybe I have got unused to the fact by living in LA, where nobody gives you a second glance.

Metropolitan Cathedral is the first church in the American continent, built by the Spaniards soon after the conquest of the Aztecs. The Spanish ruled the country from early 1500s to early 1800s, heralding Christianity to the land. They, of course, stamped the culture remarkably on Mexico. The church is humungous, even my 18-55 had trouble encapsulating it from up front. There are interesting underground pathways on the church grounds, now covered by transparent thick glasses. The inside of the church is a grand golden architecture, the striking feature is the black Christ that we found unique. The exploration was cut short since it was past the visiting hours (till 5pm).

A slow walk back through the crowd, we stopped at Starbucks for some coffee and to gloat at the new culture. Quite an experience it was.

Day 1 ended with an early dinner and bedtime. The next day was definitely going to be more interesting. The Pyramids of the Sun and Moon at Teotihuacan awaited us!

The Keeper of Time!

I am sure all of you have seen me in some way or the other, in paintings or in person. But I understand if you have not realised my existence amongst my fellow-beings. I stand at the corner of the pathway where the humans walk early mornings or late evenings, just outside Victoria Memorial in Kolkata. I am here at the same spot since the last thirty odd years (if you go by human calculations). For me, it feels just yesterday the good Samaritan in blue overalls placed me here.

I keep hearing lots of stories and chatter over the din of the moving metals boxes of various sizes (called cars) that keep honking without reason. It makes me wonder, what pleasure do they get by shouting at each other. I think they are just driven mad by the growing number of humans, hence I see them passing out more of the black air day by day, to vent their feelings.

At least I can comprehend what the humans say, unlike the cars. Most of them who sit on the bench at my foot to chat are the ones with grey hair and have difficulty in walking. Sometimes there is a man in tattered clothes who sleeps here when the sun is scorching, and then there are the young at heart who peck at each other like my friends, the Birds. I hear them chat about studies, work, money, children, houses, politics, travels, and relationships, but never about me. Yet I can't help but eavesdrop.

Nowadays, I feel sad when the ones with grey hair chat between themselves. They sound so lonely and confused at the same time. It seems none of their young ones stay with them anymore. They are either in cities they call Bangalore, Pune, Delhi, or in different countries they call US, Europe. This is happening over the last ten years. Before then, they used to talk about getting them married, and how they are faring in different life stages. Now mostly I hear them saying - my son / daughter 'called'. "They must be cooking now, they must be in office now, I heard my grandchild is growing up fast and started talking". Everything has become an assumption and craving. The human children seems to have started leaving their parents and are living independently like the Birds.

What I do not understand is, why are they never happy, why is there a mask all the time, why do they have to lie to their own, why don't they have the courage anymore to do what their heart pleases? There are two such people who come every evening. I heard them talking over the small box pressed to their ears they call 'phones', saying, "Please do not worry about us, we are fine and happy here. Visit us when you have time". And the next moment after they removed the 'phone' from their ears, they started crying, saying "wish our son can visit us this festival, we haven't seen him in two years since he went off to US". I feel so helpless, wish I could have consoled them in some way.

There is one common topic that is always in vogue in the city - Politics. The young, the old, the poor, and even the roadside vendors seem to be bound by this common term. My friend, the Dog, brings me stories from all around. That is how I know that the long strings of people who walk the roads every now and then are either supporting or protesting an idea. They convey their thoughts with 'slogans', placards, and different colour themes (which is very interesting for me, I wonder what the red or green pictures signify).

As I already said, I have seen and heard a lot over the last three decades. I have seen numerous people with varied looks and clothes visit the memorial, mostly with those clicking objects they call 'camera'. I share my experiences and thoughts with Dog, who also seems to be very perturbed nowadays. He says food is scarce and humans have become more rude. They always seem to be in a hurry and on the verge of fighting all the time. He has lived lesser than me, but he has the gift of mobility, hence has seen and heard more.

We have also faced the vagaries of weather together. There have been scorching summers, pleasant winters, and severe monsoons. I love rains, since that keeps me alive. The man in the blue overalls stopped feeding me water after a year, and I had to fend for myself. But the rains have been torrential lately. Sometimes, it goes on and on for days together, clogging the roads and making it very difficult for the men who carry behind them two big circles attached to rods (sometimes with more humans sitting on top). The cars also come to a standstill and there is even more honking, now from the humans as well, as if the boxes were not making enough noise.

What scared me was what the humans called "earthquake". One sudden afternoon, I felt excruciating pain in my veins as it got pulled and stretched for some two-three minutes. Next day the humans were ga-ga about the event, as they discussed how small an earthquake it was and comparing it to other countries, where something on the Richter scale was much higher.

Till date, I have never been scared of death. I wanted to die naturally like my fellow beings, when they grow old and dry up. The humans then saw them up and take them off to some obscure place. But this earthquake really shook me up. The humans were saying it is the result of the ravaging they are doing on Mother Nature, the increasing pollution and ever-rising population. But if such a small earthquake can cause me so much pain, I wonder how much pain my fellow beings will be in. I do not want to die an unnatural death caused by humans.

I think I can go on and on about my surroundings, the humans, the Victoria, the changes I have seen amongst all in my life. But everything looks so complicated these days, I am thoroughly confused. I long for the chatter and laughter of the small humans who used to run around me, the happy faces I see no more and the love stories that were woven around me. And I wonder, will I live to see such a day again? If not, I hope I dry up soon and die since I do not want to be the keeper of just humans sorrows.

Nota Bene - when you think too much...

I begin with a caveat, since this is going to be full of pointless clutter of thoughts. There comes phases in your life when you are so busy that a peaceful meal also becomes a luxury. You gobble your food over a murky sitcom, just to take your mind off of your daily routine - the advanced deadline at work, the month end bills to be paid, meeting your partner's expectations, your Mother's schedule for the next doctor's visit, and the list goes on.

There are few memories that get ingrained in your system. Whatever the time span, you will still remember the subject and the standard in school when you got 10/10, where everyone else scored lesser OR the embarrassing moment in your 1st job when, while bitching about your boss to your colleague, the chat went to the boss herself!

On a similar note, I still remember what a friend told me once. Everyone should keep aside at least half an hour everyday to talk to your own self. The pondering not only rectifies your goof-ups, it also allows you to pep yourself up, thinking about the positive things in life that keeps you going. As any good 'gyan' goes, I never gave any second thought to it. Till now, that is...

I guess being around a hoard of friends sometimes solves that purpose. Being alone here has given me tons of hours to just THINK - even when I do not intend to. The mind is in such a muddle that I get confused as to what I actually want to concentrate on, and I need to listen to loads of songs - both to divert my mind and not feel alone at the same time. Well, jotting down a few might take some of the crap off my head. :) Let's try and take it point-wise:

1. Getting back to roots has become very crucial. You hypocritically tend to do stuff that you scoffed at before, like listening to Bengali (specially Rabindranath) songs; waiting for your drama-soap everyday and wondering what the next day's episode is going to unravel. You start watching those '70s Hindi movies and think how come you missed the epics earlier? You even dig up documentaries on subjects that make your parents proudly say, "Oh our daughter is interested in such varied topics"!

2. Social networking and virtual web space becomes your world. However much you curse and coax yourself to get de-addicted, you cannot brush in the morning at peace, wondering about the activities and updates that might have taken place while you were sleeping!

3. You start valuing life, friends, even colleagues who used to share a random chat with you on the office floor. You realise that even bitching can be an amazing tool to relax, at least it gets you smiling... Loneliness is productive only when it is not forced on you.

4. People love to be praised! Not that it's a ground-breaking revelation, but reciprocating a phrase of niceties can work wonders on their ego. Again, the line between 'sharing secrets' and 'encroaching on privacy' is very subtle. You never know what turns off people (basically, you cared two hoots earlier, instead now you brood over the reasons).

5. There is a desperate attempt at working on creative stuffs and rediscovering oneself. The childhood hobbies resurface, you try your hand at multiple activities like cooking, writing, sketching (only to make yourself feel worse, when you realise that you excel at none!). You plan and un-plan daily activities, promising yourself a full-fledged course, or taking up that drama class you always wanted. Well, none gets converted to reality. Self-drive and motivation can be marvelous tools, for whosoever possesses it!

You really feel that you miss out so much in your otherwise hectic life. Minute things like watching the old Hindi movies can also make you feel complete in a way, you feel part of your tradition, living a crucial bit of your parent's prime life. A skype session with Maa everyday or an impromptu one with a friend keeps me going, and of course those weekend or trip plans.

Life goes on, as the elders used to say. And now we have picked up the saying, as we take up more responsibilities of being an adult. That's enough food for thought for today :)