In Retrospect..
“In fact no one recognises the happiest moment of their lives as they are living it. It may well be that, in a moment of joy, one might sincerely believe that they are living that golden moment “now”, even having lived such a moment before, but whatever they say, in one part of their hearts they still believe in the certainty of a happier moment to come. Because how could anyone, and particularly anyone who is still young, carry on with the belief that everything could only get worse: if a person is happy enough to think he has reached the happiest moment of his life, he will be hopeful enough to believe his future will be just as beautiful, more so.”
The Museum Of Innocence. Orhan Pamuk. 2009
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Related articles
- Orhan Pamuk: A book is a promise (telegraph.co.uk)
Pride And Joy
Father and son
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Though the pride and joy in a grandson are just as powerful..
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Picture of father and son leaving church after early morning Mass taken in Fort Cochin.
All Of A Quiver
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The day’s touring was almost done.
We had visited two monasteries, passed through alien landscapes and taken lunch in an exotic Ladakhi home.
But still we had no idea where the night would be spent.
As our car drove away from the last monastery, it seemed we might be retracing our path.
After an hour or so, I began to make sense of our itinerary.
We were returning to the house where we had lunched.
Suddenly I understood why the owner had first shown us a bedroom – though the explanation for its remarkable, bordering on louche, décor was maybe a matter best left unresolved.
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The sun sets late in the Himalayas:
great altitude gives longer hours of daylight.
With the evening still bright, we began to explore the village in which we would stay.
Music could be heard drifting up the hill and, wondering if it might signify a local wedding, we followed the Tibetan melodies until reaching a roadside field, to find instead an archery competition was underway.
A very beautiful young woman smiled sweetly, offering us hot tea and savoury snacks as we watched the men taking turns to shoot a bullseye.
When an interval was reached, the competitors retrieved their arrows, then the entire company moved into a tent where local barley-beer and rum were served.
We happily accepted several glasses of the beer, but unsure of the strength of their liquor, we declined it.
A second round of archery followed, in which we were also invited to try our hand with bow and arrow.
Once more, but this time with the well-being of the local population foremost in our minds, we politely declined!
It had been an amazing and beautiful day.
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But the surprises were not yet finished:
a fascinating evening meal still awaited us…
Pictures taken in Tingmosgang, Ladakh.
Monsooned!
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As the monsoon continues to fall on the Malabar coast,
There is just the one option:
Picture taken while the rain falls in Palace Road, Cochin.
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Back In The Driving Seat?
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After a very happy month in Britain: the country of my birth, childhood and entire working life;
I am now back at home.
I am back in India.
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Back to the charms of chaotic, but generally well-intentioned, transport and shopping.
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Back to riding pillion on my houseboy’s bike, whenever there are local errands to be run.
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Back to constant warmth and frequent sunshine, despite this being the monsoon season.
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Back to pretending I’m running the house.
When I know perfectly well that it’s my kind staff who keep this show on the road!
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The Journey Is The Destination: Part 9
The pleasures of travelling together
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Picture taken in Hampi
Reasons To Be Happy
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This weekend, Hindus all across the world celebrated Holi.
Although in Kerala Holi is a relatively low-key event, packets of brightly coloured powders were on sale along the roadside.
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But I had my own celebration.
My cousin from the USA was stopping over
And she came bearing the very best sort of gifts:
Cheeses!
A deliciously mature Oregon cheddar,
Canadian Brie
And, just for Holi, a rich-looking, blue cheese.
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The first picture in this post depicts Radha celebrating Holi, Kangra, India. Date: c. 1788. Source: Victoria Albert Museum, London. In India this image is held in the public domain.
Retail Details
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“Whoever said money can’t buy happiness simply didn’t know where to go shopping.”
Bo Derek
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Lost Horizon
I can’t remember exactly how old I was when I saw the film: probably around twelve.
I know it was a Sunday afternoon. After lunch, watching the television film matinée, my mother would do the weekly ironing, as my sister and I sat mesmerised by old black and white movies. (The mystery of how our term for afternoon performances is derived from the French word for morning has still not been explained to me.)
“Lost Horizon” had a powerful impact. I was inspired to search out the book from our local public library. But the film is only based on the novel. There are major differences; notably in the endings.
And now comes my confession.
For the first and only time, I defaced a library book. I took a pencil and, in my best hand-writing, added a short coda. This vandalism was prompted by the shock of reading a book that did not end happily. I needed the hero to find what he had lost.
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I was reminded of this by listening to BBC Radio 7 on the internet. They are currently transmitting a dramatised version of the book.
More than four decades have passed since that Sunday afternoon. I tell myself I am a little wiser. Failure and unresolved tensions – in life and literature – are somewhat easier to cope with. “And lived happily ever after” no longer raises my hopes, just an eyebrow.
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However, this is not quite the end of the story. Many years later I was destined to reach my own Shangri-La, a haven found by accident, stumbled upon during a reluctantly taken holiday.
There are no snow-clad, hidden valleys. The secret of eternal youth is not currently on offer. Arrivals and departures are arranged by scheduled flights and taxis, not through plane crash and hazardous frozen treks. My home is in the tropics of Travancore, not Tibet.
But I have finally realised much of the peace and happiness that was so tantalisingly first glimpsed all those years ago, watching “Lost Horizon”.
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(When writing this post, I came across an interview with Frank Capra, where he gives an account of the film’s almost disastrous opening.)