Accumulatings

I used to wear this beautiful ear stud. It was a real diamond, held with a golden pin. I loved it because it was, I think, one of those things you completely feel is "right". Well, my right thing ( I wore it on left tho')got lost somewhere last week and since then I have been looking for it everywhere. I looked for it all over the place. And I realised how large the earth is! Somewhere on this planet is fallen this little glittering stud of mine. I still look for it here and there, hoping to get it back. I miss it.

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It was one of Paula's pair. She had inherited it from her grandma, Nana. She is rather careless with precious materials, or should I say she is not as attached to them as I am. When she lost one of these studs, she offered the other to Anasuya, our domestic aid. I wanted it for myself, so I asked Paula for it and she gave it to me. I had my ear pierced way back in the 20Th C. BC. Here was an opportunity to start wearing a stud again. That is how I came to wear it. It was so perfect, that I am attached to it. I miss my little diamond. Hope I find it.

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I am sad that Mir is not with me. He is with Paula in Auroville. I spoke to him over the phone yesterday. It is only a month since I have come away to Goa, but I miss my little son. And I know he misses me.

When I called him yesterday he was pleasantly surprised. And the next thing he did was complain against his mother. "Mama is mean to me" He said.

"Did she yell at you?" I asked.

"Yes" said he.

"And do you want me to yell at her and tell her not to be mean to you?" I teased him.

" No!" Mir said, " you don't yell at her, but tell her gently not to be mean to me"

"O.K." I said, and when Paula took over from him, before I could tell her gently not to be mean to my son, I heard Mir in the background telling Paula how hungry he was and that he wanted to go to lunch @ Solar Kitchen.

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In places like Auroville, a large part of idealism becomes the part of one's natural attitude. You realise how much you have progressed from your reactions to small changes: simple things like drinking tea.

Tea in Goa is horrid. Not one cup I have had so far has given me that simple pleasure of drinking tea which only a tea drinker knows.

The above may sound prudish, highbrow. It may reflect a holier than thou attitude. But horrid tea is horrid anywhere, just as good tea is good anywhere. In Auroville I have good tea. The brand: Cuppa chai, organic BOP. That is the Best tea that Charu likes.

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Talking about tea, I remember that there was a time when we used to have tea in the canteen of the institute of psychiatry & human behaviour. Mental hospital canteen was run by a Mangalorian who made scented tea. He made it strong, the way I like it. Love of tea is a stranger madness. I have seen tea drinkers get into a trance like empty 'stare' while sipping their hot brew. I had read a Bengali nonsense rhyme by Sukumar Rai, where he gives tea the status as of a goddess.

**** Among the things I lost in recent times is my old pair of specs. I had looked for the right kind of round non shiny brass-coppery metal frame in as many shops as I came across on my specs hunt. Finally when I found it, I paid the man extra to fit my bi-focs right there and then. It was a good pair of specs that pair of mine. Sure, it is there somewhere, hiding from all evil, watching evil, seeing it from its good corner.

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