WAITING

It should have been here ten days ago.....the Monsoon !  The rain is stuck in Mumbai and those clouds just aren't moving north.   A good example of Indian time.....nothing ever happens when it's supposed to.  Another sunny day in Gujarat with temperatures around 40 C !  And so the heat and dust continue and everyone seems a little frustrated.

GOLD

She had an almost permanent air of melancholy about her - I was told that she came from a Royal family in Rajasthan and she reinforced this by letting slip little stories about how she was taught as a child to hold her hand in a certain way when putting on bangles, so that her hand would always remain slender and bangles would slip on and off easily.  "You should begin collecting jewelery" she told me one day..."I'm expected to wear it - it's part of my image, but all Indians collect gold, because you can raise a loan on the amount of gold jewelery you possess"  Years ago a Hindu woman could not own property but she could own jewelery, so it represented security for her.

The jewelery shops in India abound and many are vast three floor structures with liveried guards with turbans, to open the doors.  There are particular seasons for buying gold, auspicious periods, when it will bring good luck, usually around Diwali and as I was to find out...shopping with my friend of royal blood,  gold jewelery is not the 9 carat, I'm used to, but 24 and 22 carat....pure gold.  The idea of shopping for jewelery seemed an absurd pastime, before I came to India, but here it is taken very seriously....you sit down to it and might be offered a little glass of tea, to help you make up your mind.

Gold jewelry is worn even by the lower castes and forms part of the wedding gift exchange....the elaborate nose ring is a sign of marriage...

JEHANGIR ART GALLERY

The animals were life size - cheetahs waking up at dawn, quartets of zebra drinking, lions staring straight ahead, crocodiles basking and so each wall was covered in amazing photography, bringing the animal kingdom right into the room - the pulse of Africa right there in that gallery space.  "I'm a Med. student in London" the tall girl remarked to me...."these are my grandfather's pictures - I was on safari with him in Africa".  Kunj Trevedi, was born in Tanzania, but moved to India as a school boy and started taking pictures on a box brownie...later he went into business and became the owner of  the Indian Card Clothing Company"  "He's 80 now" his granddaughter continued, "...and hoping to become a professional photography - it's what he has always wanted to do !"

MUMBAI IN THE RAIN

5 p.m. and the sky suddenly darkened, jagged lines of lightening ripped vertically through the sky, claps of thunder followed and then the swollen clouds burst apart and a deluge of water dropped out of the sky.  The flimsy windscreen wiper on the taxi couldn't cope, the windows clouded over and everything ahead was water.  The gutters at the side of the road soon filled and became dams, the taxi aquaplaned valiantly through sending up more sheets of water, I sat in the back unable to make out where we were....and then it happened....chug...chug..chug and the engine cut out.  The driver skillfully pulled over to the side and we stopped.  Stunned, I realised the predicament I was in ....in the middle of Mumbai in the Monsoon in a broken down taxi without an umbrella and not knowing where I was.  I frantically turned over the options in my mind....there seemed only two....I either stayed in the car....or got out into the traffic and got soaked to the skin in a few seconds....to my amazement, the driver had no idea how to open the bonnet of the car nor any idea what could be wrong with it...he didn't speak English and I didn't know enough Hindi.  The rain poured down - it was rather like being under a waterfall.  The driver tried turning the key in the ignition again and pumping the accelerator - but it wouldn't catch.  After 20 minutes or so the rain slackened off a bit - it was now or never, I yanked the door open and fled across the road - a man was selling umbrellas, I bought one without bothering to bargain, grateful for the protection and miraculously found myself in a street I recognised.  Half-an-hour later, I was back at the hotel, my jeans soaking wet up to the knee !

The next day, walking around Colaba, you could see the havoc caused - some trees, bone dry for nine months of the year, have branches which overreach and extend themselves, in search of water, but with the torrential rains, the wood swells and branches become too heavy, to bear their own weight and come crashing down.  Only the Banyan trees, seemed unaffected by the vagaries of nature.

The air is so laden with moisture, that my leather watch strap, bone dry and stiff in Gujarat, became as malleable as putty and wet to the touch and impossible to wear - so the Monsoon season brings a whole new set of challenges, requiring adaptation in order to survive !

CLOUDS

Cloud cover and cooler.....the Monsoon has reached Mumbai - it's been raining cats and dogs there for 3 days and traffic came to a standstill - it should reach Gujarat in the next week....you can feel the proximity of the Monsoon.....everyone is waiting for the deluge.

SUNDAY

The day heats up and by midday the light and heat, entering every crack, feel like a blast from the open door of a furnace.  I feel drowsy and find my eyelids drooping, moving around, causes waves of sweating - I pin my hair up on my head and wet tendrils stick to my neck.  Everything is quiet outside,  even the birds are silent and in the background, only the hum of Christmas bees - nobody is on the white hot street, even the dogs are silent and all shutters and doors are closed.  The strange emptiness seems to intensify the stifling heat, as if everything is panting and waiting for a reprieve at sunset.  I rouse myself and glance out and see two lone women walking slowly in opposite directions, their sari veils covering their heads and shielding their faces from the sun.   I try and concentrate again on the pantheon of Hindu Gods and Goddesses, the page is damp under my hand, Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, the Triad, they remind me of the Three Graces in Botticelli's painting of the 'Primavera' and the Platonic idea of the Giving, Receiving and Returning of Blessings, in an eternal dance, then there are the Goddesses Devi, Lakshmi, Sita, Radha, Parvati, Durga, Kali.....

56 C

The thermometer on his terrace registered 56 degree C today !  Tomorrow he will try the experiment of leaving an egg in a frying pan on the terrace at 3 p.m. to see if it will actually cook !  The temperature keeps rising and when the rains come, there will be a deluge with low-lying buildings flooded by meters - then they will wait for the level of the water to go down and begin the job of cleaning all the mud away...everything is so labour-intensive !  Do they exchange their summer flip-flops for wellington boots ?

ORMILA

She has bells around her ankles, Ormila, the new floor and dusting wallah.  Poor Lily, had to go off to have a stomach operation !  Lily is so tiny and concave, that I hope they find her stomach and fix it !  Ormila is quite the opposite, well-built and wears leggings, kurta and dupatta.  I am able to track her, whereabouts around the apartment by the tinkling of bells and so keep out of the way of her charu broom - the motion of the handle-less charu, not only sweeps the dust, but according to some, sweeps away negative energy!  Sweeping is a national pastime in India, I have never encountered a vacuum cleaner !  I have observed the woman who sweeps the street outside, her hair tied in a tight bun and her colourful sari draped and folded around her - she holds the broom in her right hand, whilst the left arm is held lightly behind her back, to give her balance and grace - when I pass in the rickshaw, she looks up and smiles....

RAIN

It rained today in long stripes.  The herald of the Monsoon season.  It's cooler.  There are puddles everywhere which, with more rain, will presumably turn into great dams and acres of mud, as there is no drainage.  Life on the street adjusts to the new phenomenon....a man stands under a shelter with just a towel round his waist and a gaggle of near naked children run laughing from puddle to puddle.

DINNER AT 8.30 P.M.

Are you free Friday night?   "Come to dinner - the Maharajah will be there and the Deputy High Commissioner from Mumbai and the Chancellor of the University - just let me check the seating plan" !    

Knowing that the rickshaw would take ages to find the address, I set off early - winding our way through the maze of dark streets, I wondered if we would ever find the place and then there it unmistakably was - lights sparkled from every tree, fairy lights decorated every corner - this was definitely it !  I paid the rickshaw and walked through the gates, a smiling guard ushered me through.

Aladdin's Cave ?  The house glowed - walking through the front door, I was met by an expansive hug and introductions - paintings covered every inch of every wall and even the ceilings.  Enormous vases with flowers lit up every corner.  The doors of the drinks cabinet were thrown open to reveal a host of back-lit, shining bottles with everything from Whiskey to Gin.  I was handed a glass of chilled white wine from his Estate in Southern India  - the tallest wine glass I'd ever seen, with a stem which was achingly slim.  Set out on a carved circular table, were a tempting display of olives, stuffed chillies and assorted h'orderves.  Guests filtered in, some were industrialists who made machinery of different types - threshing machines, ball bearings, etc., there were also artists and writers and of course the Maharajah and his wife.  A guest, dressed in a sari with large bindi,  stood in front of one of her canvases - bold  figurative work with large slashing brush strokes, she pointed out several other of her works in the room.   Dinner was served at 9.30 p.m.-  mutton, chicken, stuffed aubergines, briyani and paneer, served in exotic ceramic bowls.  We were seated on chairs draped with silk ribbon bows, white table cloths and gold-plated cutlery.  Wine was served from two headed decanters, lamps glowed, opera played in the background.   A  toast was raised, "To the honoured guest",  laughter abounded.   Our host looked after every little detail.  Desert was served.  The High Commissioner raised a toast to our host, who looked pleased - the air conditioning kept everything cool.  Waiters refilled glasses.  And then it was time to go.....unlike Italy, where people linger after a meal, here in India, they leave directly !

Was that what it feels like to be whisked along to a fairy kingdom on a magic carpet ?

THE VIEW FROM THE 11TH FLOOR

His offices occupied the whole of the top floor - a circular tower in the middle of the town.  Huge windows provided an uninterrupted view of the city and its domes and temples and the vast expanse of typical flat topped buildings, which give Baroda its distinctive appearance.  He pointed out the Maharajah's palace through one window, then the Victorian red brick museum and through another window, the dome of MS University.  But the view from the last window was the most interesting.... the river was down below, choked with river weed and mangroves..... then to my astonishment, brazenly swimming amongst it, were the most enormous crocodiles I've ever seen.  So the stories were true - crocodiles were seen in the middle of  town, some years back, during the   severe Monsoon floods and furthermore, many animals from the city zoo had gone missing at the time....!