I know it sounds cheesy to start a piece by some very amateurish lines of verse. But some places are so magical, so other worldly that words begin to form, without effort, arranging themselves in neat lines like conscientious schools girls during morning assembly. Glendalough or the Valley of the Two Lakes is one such place.
One of the elements of the expat or the immigrant life is the longing and the loneliness. The longing for friends and family who live in another part of the world, the loneliness - at least initially when you don't know a lot of people and miss the deep friendships that you once had. And so, when a festival comes up, you wish for both - companionship and friends to celebrate the good days, to revel in shared customs and traditions and to repeat over a hundred times how one misses the home that one has left behind.
Walking tours, taster dance classes, musical performances, literary readings, immersive cinema, open air concerts - the Culture Night in Dublin had so many things on offer and everything was free. And if you were lucky like us, the night had many other unintended surprises, like a grinning young man, randomly approaching you and asking if you had any weed please?
There's something about a feast that is served on a banana leaf, with as much as 26 different varieties of food, all vegetarian and to have people serving you with a lot of love and affection. It is for this feast of Onam sadya, that we took a bus, wearing our traditional Indian outfits with husbands and children in tow, and head to the North of Dublin. Because how can one possibly resist a feast so divine?
Do we only see our neighbours when we are taking out the trash or while in the lift? Or do we, visit each other, sharing food and evenings and conversations and becoming like my parents say 'first families' to each other? I hope we do, because there's so much to gain from being a good neighbour and from having one yourself.
It was a warm Saturday in the first week of September - not cold, not windy, and no rain. Which in Ireland is akin to winning the lottery and so we decided to take a day trip to Dalkey and Killiney Hill and beach. We were rewarded with such beautiful views that we felt guilty for not coming here before - such incredible natural beauty at just an arm's length away from where we live.
Now you there, you are a chatter. Just like me. So said the silverfish slayer man who had come to our apartment. Ireland, I find, is a good country for chatters. You are always having such interesting conversations with strangers - while out grocery shopping, running errands, while on a bus and asking for directions. Maybe you would like to read about the ones I have had so far?
It was framed in a window. As if someone had said 'pause' or 'freeze' as a part of a game, and it had indeed paused. The cloak of blue, spread out, frozen in mid motion. The day before we were to start living in our rented apartment in Dublin, we took a cab and moved … Continue reading I caught a glimpse of the sea
Today, we got the keys to the apartment we will be renting in Dublin. It has a 'proper' second bedroom - something we had wanted but never had in the last five years in the United Kingdom. My husband looks at the second bedroom and says, now when we fight we will both have a bedroom each to sulk. It makes me laugh for I had forgotten that not having one in the past meant that we always shared the bed no matter how much we had fought in the day...
I step into the Luas. It's about 12.20 in the noon. As I make my way towards where I think I might find an empty seat, someone says 'hello.' I am taken aback. I am about two and half weeks old in the city and the country. We live in a service apartment and we … Continue reading Who says hello to me in a brand new town and country?
The Banyan tree and other stories 