Mama India, Wandering Child

wanderlust.

The weather has suddenly turned cooler here and it is getting dark just a little earlier each day.  Soon it will be winter here in Oxford and although it remains beautiful, my wandering mind takes my thoughts to India a bit more each day.  As for my eyes, I have spent the morning looking at photographs by Ben Taylor, who I met in India this past winter.  He was traveling with his partner and adorable little boy, Cosmo.  I love the photos that he took on his family trip, it really brings me back to my own India travels with my boys!

 

 
 

To see more of Ben's Photographs, click here

Baby It's Great To Be Back Home

As many of you know, I just got back from a week in the States..ALONE.  This was the first time since Arun's birth that I have been away longer than 24 hours.  When I first planned this trip I was very excited to have a whole week off from all the mundane tasks of caring for a toddler. But a few days before the trip I began to have second thoughts...not only would I be away for several days, we wouldn't even be in the same continent! I began to panick- anything could happen and I would not be there.  As a new mother, this was a very scary thought. But still, in a way, I was looking forward to it.

I have to say, I did have a good time catching up with old friends, eating in cafes and shopping (prices in the States, especially for photo equipment are about 50% less than in England).  But after a couple days I was lonely without my family around.  I missed the morning cuddles, reading stories, and spending long lazy days with my boy.  The flight, which I imagined to be pure bliss without a baby, was, after two mediocre romantic comedies and equally mediocre airplane food,  really just plain boring.  Seeing old friends was great, but i regret that they didn't have a chance to play with Arun, who is now walking and talking.  Last year he when we visited he was a little baby- only six months old. 

On the flight back yesterday, I imagined Arun running into my arms and covering him with kisses...so I was heartbroken when he would not so much as look at me for the first 2 hours of my return.  I tried to pick him up and he cried for daddy.  When came close to him again, he said 'go away mommy'.  Luckily, he eventually came around and now we are as close as ever.  I found a toy yellow NYC taxi that I knew he would love- he is into anything with wheels these days.  That seemed to break the ice and before long he was smiling. 

New York was as fun as always, but it is great to be back (to my new) home in the English countryside.

India Perspectives

I just came across this essay, written by my little sister when she was 17, just after coming back from her first visit to India. She wrote it for a school assignment with the theme 'perspective essay'.

I’m grasping onto the handle of the cab door desperately. I bounce unsteadily with each pothole we hit and curve we round, unrestrained by a seat belt. Gazing out the window it’s clear why: the unpaved road we travel is no wider than our car and the gravel and debris littered along the road take the place of any tar or pavement. The music of my iPOD beats quietly in my ears, but I am so amazed at the images right outside my window that I hardly even notice. A smell of rotten eggs or trash forces me to breathe through my mouth. How is it possible that there is so much extreme poverty here? Bottles, papers, plastics, metals, mounds of waste strewn on the roads, picked at by dogs and rats and cows whose ribs protrude as the thinnest layer of skin surrounds them. And the people– the people living right along side these animals– are just as malnourished, sorting through apple cores, weeds, and animal droppings. I shudder and turn away from the groups of men urinating on the sidewalks in plain sight, right alongside the children walking barefoot and naked in front of shop windows. I run my hands over my new turquoise necklace, the one I bartered down to ten dollars at a sidewalk stand here, and I realize that the workers grasping onto the shaky wooden scaffolding on the buildings ahead are actually no older than my 9 year old sister.

We come a stop light, and a little Indian girls presses her face up to my window, begging and pleading with me to buy her little trinkets. Her face is smudged with dirt and black eyeliner surrounds her teary glazed eyes. I inhale deeply, this child is practically a toddler, and although she cannot see me through the tinted windows of my car I feel her gaze piercing through the door at my Benetton bag, Chanel flats, and baby blue iPOD. Against the urging of my driver, I role down my window and hand her 50 rupees. A dollar to me, a fortune to a girl who will live hand to mouth for the rest of her life.
 
There is small road. Many people fill the sidewalk either sitting, squatting, or walking. This sidewalk is broken and caving in. The wooden buildings are plastered with advertisements and wooden scaffolding surrounds many of them. The scaffolding blows unsteadily in the wind. In front of one shop, women stand in line for bread items, at another people view saris in many different colors. A car makes its way up the road slowly. It has tinted windows and a rusty white exterior. Children run in front of the car and tap on the windows and hood. The children wear rags and scraps of clothing and dirt coats their hands and feet. A man yells, a baby cries, four people on a small motorcycle head up the sidewalk, honking as they go. The air is cool though there is no breeze at this time of day. The air smells of sewage and fried foods, mixing together in an aroma that permeates the buildings and cars. A young girl of 4 approaches the car with toy bicycles and waits as the window rolls down.
My tummy hurts. I didn’t get to have anything to eat yet. I hate days when mom doesn’t let me have food. Walking down the sidewalk I feel the sandy pavement on my bare feet. I walk over to the dirt and draw a big circle with my toes. My hair is really itchy and I can’t stop scratching. Mommy says I shouldn’t scratch because it makes my hair messy, but I see her scratch her hair a lot. I’m wearing my favorite dress today! It has a white heart on it, but it is kind of brown right now because I slept on the ground last night. I also have a black shirt, but I like wearing my dress more. This morning mommy put the black stuff around my eyes to keep the evil spirits away. There are a lot of kids running in the grass this morning and playing catch, I hear them screaming and laughing and wish I could play today. I have to try to sell some toy bicycles though. The bikes are blue with yellow wheels and are very light so I can hold at least five at once! I wish I could have them, but mom says I have to sell them for dinner money. I’ve been out here all morning and I haven’t sold any yet. I walked by the bakery, the dress shop, and a little cafe so far. I like looking in at all the different things they have in there even though I can’t buy them. I saw a pretty pink sari with white sparkles and a smooth shiny scarf in one store, but it was 40 rupees and I don’t have that much money. When I walked by the bakery I wish I could get something because I smelled the yummy sweetness of the flour dough. I breathed in really deeply because I was hungry. 
There is a huge white car driving up. The windows are black like my shirt so there must be someone important inside! Mom says I have to go to every car to sell the bicycles so I walk up to it when it stops at the light. I step on a pebble that sticks into my foot and hurts so I hop on the other one, but then stop because I might fall. I press my fingers up against the cool window and smoosh my face against it. I cannot see anything so maybe there is no one there. Or maybe it’s a king! Or maybe it’s an actor or singer! I am startled as the window slides down making a squeak. There is a girl inside who looks nothing like me! Her skin looks like a ghost and she has lots of spots on her face. She has weird white things and a string coming out of her ears too! She smiles at me and hands me a bill. I step back onto a piece of stone pavement and watch the car pull away. The bill feels crinkly in my hand and I look down. I cannot believe I am holding 50 rupees! I fold it delicately and squeeze it tightly in my right fist. I should run home and show mommy right away!

Vintage Indian Railways Posters

The other day I was browsing through our local art bookshop and I came across this reproduction of an Indian State Railways Poster from the 1930's by William Spencer Bagdatopoulus:

It immediately brought back such nice memories of my rail journeys in India, so I bought it.  Now hanging in our living room it looks great (the colors are much better in my reproduction).  So I had an idea to decorate our stairwell and landing with a few more of these posters.  The problem is, all the similar posters I found on the internet are exceedingly expensive for this part time working mama.  Does anyone know where I can find these at a reasonable price?