The clouds are thick. It is still early and the sun has not yet had enough time to burn through the clouds. There are small hills here. It is morning as I awake in a bus after an all night ride. Tamil Nadu looks different from Kerala. I notice the clouds gliding across the distant mountains. Bangalore, my destination, is just a few hours away.
Green covers the land. I can see it in the trees and in the grass. Small bushes spread across the ground and sandalwood trees sprout sporadically across the land. Occasionally, thick clumps of forest separate the growth of rice paddies. The patterns formed, shine across the land. It is early morning. Farmers are out in their fields. They remind us the day has begun.
My friend Uma sits beside me, her gentle way occasionally lets me know what’s in her thoughts. She smiles with kindness evident and says, “You look like a child waking up early this morning.” She laughs.
I met Uma in Fort Cochin. She and I became friends easily. Though Bangalore is her home, a pleasure visit to Cochin brought her to my teacher’s Sajee’s house for a welcome respite from her home on the hill. It was a treat to return to Bangalore with Uma this year. Our trip, by over night bus was so much nicer with her company!
Uma embraces the simple joys of life. Though most of her time is spent in meditation and prayer, she loves drinking beer, dancing with friends, laughing at silliness, surfing the internet on her (archaic) computer, and listening to her favourite radio Tamil music stations on her mobile phone. She anticipates friendly visits from neighbours and family members. She has lived at the Ashram, an orphanage in the outskirts of Bangalore for the past 40 years.
Uma paints. Her use of colour is vibrant and rich. Pinks, oranges, blues and browns are used to create beautiful Indian women, Gods and deities, and flowers. She says her most creative times are after the monsoon passes. Then, she is more able to settle outside and ‘watch the world as it turns’. The sun shines. The climate is more comfortable. Her room becomes brighter and inspiration ignites.
Gentle, meditative and very sociable, Uma’s life story is rich and intriguing. Her first marriage was arranged, as is common in Indian culture. Abusive and destructive, Uma was able to leave the relationship, leave India for France, and quickly fell in love again. Her second marriage enabled her to give birth to a daughter. That marriage also didn’t last long and Uma found herself, alone, back in India. Her partner and young daughter remained in France. Uma lives alone now after several relationships. After several long term relationships, he is presently single and continues to find love where ever she can.
Uma’s room sits atop a hill in a small orphanage in the outskirts of Bangalore, very close to where I am staying. She is the “mother’ there, having reached that Brahman reputation of honour and respect. She tells me she never leaves her room in the Ashram other than to sit and watch the world from her stone balcony that overlooks the hills of the village. Young women come to bring her food daily. The doctor visits weekly. Visitors come and go during the day checking in and sharing conversation and tea.
My one visit to Uma happens during an annual festival (Sree Gundan Jareeya) in her ashram. It is similar to a community Church picnic with about 5,000 people attend. The ashram hosts the neighbourhood as a way of sharing thanks for the support the neighbourhood shares during the year. Bushels and bushels of rice and curries are set out on huge banana leaves for eating. Delicious Indian deserts and chai is served. Families with young children in tow play and sing and dance. Crafts are displayed and jewellery is sold.
Venturing down from Uma’s balcony we come upon a pleasant woman sitting cross-legged on a colourful mat. Surrounding her are hundreds of glass bangles neatly organized on home made cylinder tubes decoratively covered in newspaper. She smiles at us as we approach and waves her hand in welcome and to come closer.
Uma insists that we all decorate our arms with the bangles. There are four of us ,all together…myself, and 3 friends, Mah, Nagri and Uma. Each one of us, in turn, extends our arm to have the bangles ceremoniously squeezed over our hand on to our arms. Each one of us receives 12 bangles, different colours for each depending on the choice made by the bangle maker.
The price for all the bangles is 200 rupees ($8.00) but the experience we share is priceless. I feel so blessed to be with these amazing and beautiful women. Each of us is so different, and yet, each of us is so much the same. Women like Uma, Mah, Nagri and even the old bangle maker make my life sing!!! We all walk away singing the joyful jangle of bracelets from our swinging arms, as we make our way home.
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