The Mango Tree

It's been weeks since my Hampi trip and I have been meaning to record my impressions. Yet one thing after another has overtaken me and my intentions didn't get translated to paper.

But I MUST write about one of the loveliest eating places I have ever been to - The Mango Tree.

After a few hours of tiring sightseeing, we were in dire need of a GOOD (yes, in capital letters) lunch. The cab driver didn't come up with any helpful suggestions until we got the brain wave of telling him to take us to where the "foreigners" go! Then off we were, a ten minute drive into the wild, passing an ancient rock painting, finally stopping at a large wrought iron gate. Walking through the gate, we realised we were on a small hill overlooking the river. We followed a tiny path through a banana plantation (of all things) and reached a suspiciously ordinary looking restaurant called the Mango Tree.

Suspicion turned to pleasant surprise as we took off our shoes and emerged into a small clearing that housed the joint. It is basically various levels of stone seating, with chatais underneath and the trees above. Your back is to the hill and you face the river and the rocky hills opposite. There is a swing in the middle, reminding you of the hundreds of movies you have seen on rural India and there is a plastic coated menu that reminds you very much of the urban India that you now inhabit. The range of food reflects the variety of clientele they get and is quite a relief for me (as to me holiday is synonymous with good food).

But this interesting, though factual, description doesn't even begin to capture the feel of the place. One can (and I did) just sit there for hours without feeling restless or compelled to move. You can eat leisurely, ordering in batches...finally ending up sipping mint tea as you look over the river (no interesting sight, though) and generally thinking about existentialism or about your pending to-do list. You can enjoy the muted conversations of other guests who dont stare at you or invade your space despite being close by. You can read peacefully and actually read without distraction, not just flip through magazines. You can enjoy the silence of the surrounding area and not miss music at all. You can put your feet up without worrying whether they are pedicured or not and you can listen to snatches of conversation that make you smile and think. You can basically take a break from life. And get served while doing so.

The "true" love?

In a recent conversation with DB, I had spoken about how all relationships are need based. That's natural. And yet, that is also the root of its downfall. I know this is idealistic, but the truest love is that which exists for its own sake. Maybe I was echoing this sonnet which I remember having read many many years ago and which I suddenly came across today.

Sonnet XIVI

f thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not sayI love her for her smile--her look--her way
Of speaking gently,--for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of ease on such a day--For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may
Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheek dry,--A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou may'st love on, through love's eternity.

-- Elizabeth Barrett Browning

It's been a long, long time since I sat like this in the middle of the night, trying to capture the "whoosh" of thoughts and feelings swirling through my mind and soul.

And swirl they do, faster and faster. Both at work and outside, events are reaching a crescendo that will either peak with fulfilment or crash with disappointment. Whichever happens, the impact will be significant, sending ripples through my entire being, through my entire life; setting in motion a series of thoughts and actions that will define the pattern of my life over the next few years at least. Key words - Acn, Mer, DB.

I am scared. Honest to goodness scared. I so so want things to turn out in a certain way, but the way the music is playing, it's touch and go either way. I dont want to be hurt again. I dont want to feel I have compromised. I dont want to regret later. But I cant afford to want any of this. Because the music plays on....and it can go either way....I can keep wanting all I want, I can be as scared as I like. The music is ruthless even when it soothes.

and the wheels turn....

Hot coffee scalds my lips as I write this. The sun is shining and the breeze tousles my hair like a friendly lover. I am ensconced comfortably on this terrace café, in a cane chair, on plump cushions, slightly dazed after a heavy meal replete with dessert. It’s three thirty in the afternoon and all I have done till now is to wake up (at the unprecedented late hour of eleven), have tea, finish my novel, get picked up by Nkj, and indulge in a heavy lunch. And there are no specific plans for the rest of the day. And this is the third day in a row when I am doing this. To repeat the word, unprecedented. To use another word, blissful.

But things are never blissful, are they? The song playing in the background – Dire Strait’s Winds of Change – is eerily reflective of what I am thinking.

The intensely painful exchange of words with K….the sudden resurgence of V followed by the even more sudden bitter reaction…the two engaging, intelligent conversations with Shankar and Hema…the escalating quantity and quality of my interaction with DD – they have all been so unexpected, leaving me breathless with a cauldron of emotions – pain, anger, confidence, hope. There’s some pattern here, and the unexpectedness is just part of it. And it makes me certain that the tide is turning, that somewhere in the realms of the underground wheels are turning towards a direction I am as yet unaware of.

I will not try to indulge in either imaginative or intellectual forecasting, because it is of no use. Several of my previous posts indicate that I have been uncomfortably aware of these winds approaching. I am equally aware of the futility of trying to anticipate what the winds will bring or where they will take me. All I have are my basic anchors – my value system, my survivor instinct, my loved ones – and I shall go along making the best of whatever is thrown my way. And when I have reached (or rather, been taken to) some sort of destination, I will record it.