I was curious as to how life would be when we came back from living our Indian Life. The two questions I have been asked most are 'How is it to not be working anymore?' and 'How is it being back in Scotland, and when are you going back to India?'.
I can not believe it is soon a whole year since my life changed when I worked my last day - 21st June 2022. Since then until we left to go to India at the end of October we had few if any 'normal days'. Between end of June and October I travelled to 4 countries, attended a wedding, planned a funeral, emptied a large house of over 60 years worth of collecting, or should I say 'hoarding'? Days were filled with solicitors, undertakers, Indian immigration, airlines, air bnb, suitcases, boxes, pension funds, the tax man - I would not feel this was 'Living my simple!'.
But Today - is simple. This is a day with nothing wild, so what is my simple today?
It is May but it is still cold - this Thursday has been blown about by an icy wind, strong and blustery. We are still wearing our winter clothes - hats, gloves, coats. I can not imagine when it will warm up enough to wear a nice cotton dress! My mind shows for me, those Mumbai mornings when we would step out from the flat at at Sealord, Colaba, and the warmth of that hot sun enveloped our shoulders. I never felt 'too hot', really I didn't. Whilst the locals 'coped' and 'tholed' the heat, we loved that guaranteed sunshine - not having plan our day according to 'it may turn chilly with a north east wind' or 'heavy rain' predicted by the forecast or sometimes just out of the blue. I think of those sunny days as we all wait patiently for summer to come to the Scottish East Coast.
So today felt very normal, routine and simple. But I was feeling flat. I longed for that sun, I just wanted to wander down the paths and pavements of Old Bombay, life going on all around me. But that was not what my day was! I had to find another way to Make my Day Good! I was not even in the mood to walk - in the cold, in the wind. But walk we did and it did the trick.
I love a walk through a cemetery - not for everyone, but I was brought up on cemetery walks! My granny and grandpa loved a Sunday walk 'up the hilly' which was the nearby graveyard for our city of Dundee. It is a huge place,with hundreds of old, old graves pitched right through the flat of the land into the steep hill. Hence called 'the hilly' - Balgay Hill. Balgay was initiated as a burial ground in the 1870's. It is a beautiful parkland, with multiple trees - redwoods, cedars, conifers. The hill is 141m above sea level and the climb to the top and the view is pretty awesome!
We started the walk from the back of the cemetery, where there is a steep hill running down to the road - I love to tell the story of how my brother and his friends had climbed to the top of the hill when they were kids - they then began the 'descent' but my brother stood up - the descent was so steep that he could not stop himself careering down and landing on the concrete path below. Unconscious and bleeding, a passerby ran to a nearby doctor's house to summon an ambulance - and one of his friends ran all the way to our house to tell my mum of the accident. The poor chap, who was of plump proportions, was like a ball of fire when he arrived at the door. My brother survived the incident although he had a bump on the front of his head the size of a sugar bowl. Myself and younger brothers were sent to our neighbours where we had a boiled egg and some jelly and ice cream for tea! What a memory - and that is what was stirred during our walk around the cemetery - memories of childhood walks on a Sunday afternoon here, memories of those now gone, old aunties, neighbours, worthies of Old Dundee.
When we were on our walks across Mumbai city we came across 2 Muslim cemeteries, one of them did not allow women. I did hover at the gate wondering if I could just walk through - but out of nowhere the attendant appeared, and although I could not understand his utterance I know it meant that he would not permit me to enter. I do not know why women could not enter that one. But just a few steps down the road there was a second cemetery with no signage to prevent me entering so I did just that. Again, as if by magic, the attendant appeared out of nowhere and again his utternace I could not understand. I told Anil 'just say we are paying respects' and I did not venture right down into the grounds but stood with my head bowed and hands joined. I did not want to be appear disrespetful - but as I have said, cemetries intrigue me. And a 'locked door' or a 'do not enter' sign just begs me to explore.
Few people were around but one man did come in and place flowers on a grave - he told us it was his mother's and he came every week.
For some people this seems the most pointless act - 'visiting' someone who is not there. But - something of that person is there. The earthly remains are there for sure, and I chose to believe 'something else' remains. The world is so full of wonders and mysteries, for us to have all the answers is not wholly possible - there are some things which just can not be explained - remain a mystery - and part of me feels 'a presence' as we wander through the gravestones and tombs. A presence, or a feeling, and a connection with those of my family who have been laid here to rest in years gone by.
The day is grey and misty - making the scene suitably haunting. The air holds a bereft aura, sadness hanging in the mist. Mournful, and yet - there was also such peace. Restful peace, and the most beautiful tributes on the headstones marking lives gone by. Wonderful lives right back to the early 1800's - at the top of the hill - that is where the older plots are. Back in those days, the stones told of the professions and occupations of those gone by - Sea Captains, Publishers, Stonemasons, Blacksmiths, Clerk of Works, Lord Provost of the City, Corporation Inspector. As I read these inscriptions, I wonder if anyone will read about me, after I have been gone for 100 years? Will I chose burial or maybe some remains or ashes taken to India.
Despite the chilliness, the spring flowers are in abundance, and contrast to the greyness of the day. Tulips of yellow and red stand tall, bright and seem to own their space with pride . My favourite - the scented hyacinths of mauve, pink and white offer a beautiful scent to the air, and the last piece of my low mood from the morning vanishes. But the most stunning sight is the cherry blossom trees which line the paths between the rows of the graves. The branches are loaded, in fact overloaded with pink flowers, bending the branches to kiss the stony paths. Quite wonderous.
We retrace our steps back to the top of the hill, where the view is stunning, whatever the weather. Far down below us the mighty River Tay wearing grey today, skirts the banks of the town, with our Dundee city facing across to the coast of Fife. Now not just the pink of the cherry trees, but the yellow of the gorse bushes, the emerald green of the neat and tidy suburbia gardens of the West end, the orange roofs.
And that - today - is one of my Simples!
But I have not really answered the two questions most asked - 'How is it to not be working anymore?' and 'How is it being back in Scotland, and when are you going back to India?' For another day - too busy enjoying my simple for now.
Sharing below a poem about death to continue with the theme of 'Cemeteries'. Quite a beautiful poem - Will try and be more sunny next time I write!
BECAUSE I COULD NOT STOP FOR DEATH - EMILY DICKINSON
Because I could not stop for Death
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.
We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –
Or rather – He passed Us –
The Dews drew quivering and Chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –
Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity –
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