My friend Ameeta
It was in early 2000 when I was in the ‘hey’ days pf my profession that Ameeta came into my ‘chamber’ to interact on some ‘women’ article she was writing as a magazine journalist.
As 2 empowered women who had survived their own turmoils we immediately hit it off, which
followed by a precious friendship
She became a part of my personal group and was ‘active, active’ to say the least.
She danced, sang ’OMkara, and Bidi lagaio’. Was the most well dressed, made up--- and I can just go on----
Besides a writer, who started to take my views and ‘quote’ me in most things, she was primarily a ‘Wine connoisseur’ rather unusual. For this she would travel often to Italy, France, Austria, and was in the company of the European people of a certain special kind.
I dare say, she would often fantasize and wish she would meet someone outside ‘out of her profession’. When we went for Dinners she would choose the most exquisite Wine, the right amount in the glass (no cheating).
She would laugh and say she lived in a Singles’ den with a widower father, unmarried doctor brother and sister still not married.
She also had a trait; she never discussed her health problems but was there when any one needed her.
Through the years I had discovered that she had one Kidney. Through the years I also found that she would often visit Mumbai.
As a Doctor friend when I recently asked how she felt, she smiled and said she was OK as her brother was taking care of her at AIIMS.
Yesterday as I was watching my favorite serial ‘Balika Vadhu’ where the child bride Anandi was talking of the evils of child marriage, I got a call “Ameeta is no more----
“The funeral would be at Nigam Bodh Ghat------“.
Nigam Bodh Ghat where my Father was cremated some years ago and Mother, last year.
By the Banks of River Yamuna, Pyres are arranged in rows burning at various stages. Both parents had been laid on a bed for the last time, made of thick logs of wood under and around. Un-under stood Mantras were chanted for their peaceful departure.
The heat of the Flames sort of ‘Thaws’ the frozen insides and silent tears begin to flow. Although ‘they’ go away forever, bits of their soul still continue to live in us to re-visit from time to time and give of them-selves as they always had.
Some visitors come for a last glimpse. Others to fulfill the customary need and then hurry back to go with ‘the business of the day’.
I had last met Ameeta when we went to see the heart rendering movie ‘the Black Swan’. As was her style she complained to the ‘young, handsome Manager’ (as she described him later), about our ticket reservation. The least he could do was to offer us Coffee in the lounge as we waited for our seats.
The beautiful Ballerina, the Black swan would ‘slash herself’ before each performance towards producing a perfect act. After the final dance, she leaped to Death from the Back stage. The Audience ecstatic with her performance and oblivious of ‘her end’ stood up and gave a thunderous applause. Ameeta thought she was Psychotic. I differed.
We ate sparingly at the food court as she had a delicate stomach. She got a ‘kathi Kebab’ packed for her Brother. We parted to meet again to discuss and understand the ‘complexes’ of the Black swan.
Ameeta, today I stand in painful silence and applaud the beautiful way you lived ‘this business of living life’.
Affectionately, Veena 7.6.2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Sunday, November 28, 2010
23- Jhaiji my mother
23- Jhaiji, my Mother
The Cell Phone buzzed aloud. I looked up and realized, it had not rung all night and said “Thank-you Lord!”
Like other past mornings my mind wandered. It was early outside the window. My steps took me into the Batra Hospital Corridors. Retiring nurses were finishing patient notes consulting each other in whispers. The guards were loitering around keeping awake as were the waking orderlies. Cleaners were doing the cleaning as best as they thought they ought, without getting fired.
Outside, ah! A breath of fresh air, the chirping birds, some still hiding crickets, white puffy clouds in Blueing skies comforting to the soul---.
Walking towards the Park, noticed a big Padlock on the Gate, perhaps the Hospital assumed walking was not good for people and certainly not for ailing patients.
At a little distance on the Left was the Main road with the main Gate. Already a fleet of Cars, buses, Ambulances, Bikes motorized and un-motorized peddled into-----the day.
I turned Right. Sweepers swept the grounds, raising dust, the dust and haze---
Through the haze I remembered entering the corridors of the medical College.
The first sight of the Anatomy hall where bodies lay, rows after rows on marble slabs for our learning. As a new one wheeled inside, Anju had fainted. Then the study of Physiology from the Cockroach, to Frog, to Rat to Dog and finally Man.
The long and winding corridors, the turns and familiar and not so familiar corners of Irwin hospital-the wards, the wards, the rounds, the rounds, the Pathology on the Beds, on Floors, on Benches---
The Chaos, Wheeling chairs, Rushing doors, Blood, Gory blood, life saving Blood—
From Babies born to Shrieking mothers to Shrieking sons of dying dear ones.
I turned around into the swallowing corridors, the life saving corridors of Hope and Despair.
ICU –Outside, the waking and already awake relatives waiting, waiting ----for the Guard to call their name---perhaps to get another prescription life saver, perhaps good news, perhaps bad---
I walked in. Was allowed to sort of wander in and out as and when, by the Guard who knew I was doctor, also daughter of my mother inside—
There was an ‘unquiet quietness’. The gentle and yet hurried scrutiny by the Nurses, male and female. Gadgets, monitors, tubes, fluids, charts, green and white bandages, tapes—
The patients were lumbering, some lying oblivious, some sitting oblivious.
Mother lay in the distance, oblivious to my form in Green gown, mask and quiet steps.
Eyes were closed, pale-looking, ruddy and pale.
Breathing gently through the blankets—50% ventilator now and reduced Vaso-pressors, increased urine output, the monitor more regular, than irregular—the patterns less zigzag.
“Medical parameters improving—but the Septicemia has wrecked the right hand—leave it alone” they said—“wait and watch” they said----
I hoped. I despaired. I walked out. I walked back, “Where to, dear Lord?”
‘A Creaking Stretcher comes through the flapping plastic doors. Fluid running down the plastic bag into the veins, into the Heart—‘
Hopes creaking, feebly hanging on, I entered Room 362. “Aap kee Chai, Madam”
Thank you!
I sipped the insipid Tea, swallowed a Pill, closed my eyes and lay down again.
Jhai, the eldest of 7 sibs was born in Mullapur and Nana Vakilji brought her up in Ludhiana till she was a Metriculate. Married at 18, ‘the fair fashionable’ bride from the city of Punjab was welcomed in the Rural Haveli of Gumthala in Haryana.
Whilst she had to be a submissive housewife, she certainly had her ‘Saas-Bahu’ protests with my Dadi who had been possessive of Babuji, her only off-spring.
After Babuji’s demise Jhai lived with Vikram and wife Mita for 20 years, but now, more a subtle ‘controller’ than ‘controlled’. The ‘Saas-Bahu’ equation reversed and Mita bore the brunt. For me personally, she helped in my re-settlement in Delhi, financially and otherwise, knowing that Babuji also would have wished so.
Back at Batra ICU, she was now, stuck between the ventilator and the monitors. She stayed un-conscious with the Heart beating feebly. Her demise was not easy for her.
Neither was it easy for all of us as it involved lot of tough emotions and decisions of responsibility at various points of her suffering during the last days.
Well, both Jhai and Babuji are no more. But we carry their Genes forwards.
They have given us the Best Education and made us into capable human beings.
They have given us Security both Material and Emotional on which we and our children can live lavishly and comfortably for all of our lives.
They have also imbibed in us values, morals and a sense of Freedom and Confidence to conduct our lives.
There is a strange void now. The walls of their house that felt as the Womb where we were conceived and the bed where I could put my head and instantly go into a peaceful slumber does not embed us any more.
I know, we, my generation and the next, shall continue to support each other in good and bad times and after this time of ‘crisis’, stay supportive and together. May God bestow us with strength in carrying our family into the future with integrity and a rightful purpose!
Veena
The Cell Phone buzzed aloud. I looked up and realized, it had not rung all night and said “Thank-you Lord!”
Like other past mornings my mind wandered. It was early outside the window. My steps took me into the Batra Hospital Corridors. Retiring nurses were finishing patient notes consulting each other in whispers. The guards were loitering around keeping awake as were the waking orderlies. Cleaners were doing the cleaning as best as they thought they ought, without getting fired.
Outside, ah! A breath of fresh air, the chirping birds, some still hiding crickets, white puffy clouds in Blueing skies comforting to the soul---.
Walking towards the Park, noticed a big Padlock on the Gate, perhaps the Hospital assumed walking was not good for people and certainly not for ailing patients.
At a little distance on the Left was the Main road with the main Gate. Already a fleet of Cars, buses, Ambulances, Bikes motorized and un-motorized peddled into-----the day.
I turned Right. Sweepers swept the grounds, raising dust, the dust and haze---
Through the haze I remembered entering the corridors of the medical College.
The first sight of the Anatomy hall where bodies lay, rows after rows on marble slabs for our learning. As a new one wheeled inside, Anju had fainted. Then the study of Physiology from the Cockroach, to Frog, to Rat to Dog and finally Man.
The long and winding corridors, the turns and familiar and not so familiar corners of Irwin hospital-the wards, the wards, the rounds, the rounds, the Pathology on the Beds, on Floors, on Benches---
The Chaos, Wheeling chairs, Rushing doors, Blood, Gory blood, life saving Blood—
From Babies born to Shrieking mothers to Shrieking sons of dying dear ones.
I turned around into the swallowing corridors, the life saving corridors of Hope and Despair.
ICU –Outside, the waking and already awake relatives waiting, waiting ----for the Guard to call their name---perhaps to get another prescription life saver, perhaps good news, perhaps bad---
I walked in. Was allowed to sort of wander in and out as and when, by the Guard who knew I was doctor, also daughter of my mother inside—
There was an ‘unquiet quietness’. The gentle and yet hurried scrutiny by the Nurses, male and female. Gadgets, monitors, tubes, fluids, charts, green and white bandages, tapes—
The patients were lumbering, some lying oblivious, some sitting oblivious.
Mother lay in the distance, oblivious to my form in Green gown, mask and quiet steps.
Eyes were closed, pale-looking, ruddy and pale.
Breathing gently through the blankets—50% ventilator now and reduced Vaso-pressors, increased urine output, the monitor more regular, than irregular—the patterns less zigzag.
“Medical parameters improving—but the Septicemia has wrecked the right hand—leave it alone” they said—“wait and watch” they said----
I hoped. I despaired. I walked out. I walked back, “Where to, dear Lord?”
‘A Creaking Stretcher comes through the flapping plastic doors. Fluid running down the plastic bag into the veins, into the Heart—‘
Hopes creaking, feebly hanging on, I entered Room 362. “Aap kee Chai, Madam”
Thank you!
I sipped the insipid Tea, swallowed a Pill, closed my eyes and lay down again.
Jhai, the eldest of 7 sibs was born in Mullapur and Nana Vakilji brought her up in Ludhiana till she was a Metriculate. Married at 18, ‘the fair fashionable’ bride from the city of Punjab was welcomed in the Rural Haveli of Gumthala in Haryana.
Whilst she had to be a submissive housewife, she certainly had her ‘Saas-Bahu’ protests with my Dadi who had been possessive of Babuji, her only off-spring.
After Babuji’s demise Jhai lived with Vikram and wife Mita for 20 years, but now, more a subtle ‘controller’ than ‘controlled’. The ‘Saas-Bahu’ equation reversed and Mita bore the brunt. For me personally, she helped in my re-settlement in Delhi, financially and otherwise, knowing that Babuji also would have wished so.
Back at Batra ICU, she was now, stuck between the ventilator and the monitors. She stayed un-conscious with the Heart beating feebly. Her demise was not easy for her.
Neither was it easy for all of us as it involved lot of tough emotions and decisions of responsibility at various points of her suffering during the last days.
Well, both Jhai and Babuji are no more. But we carry their Genes forwards.
They have given us the Best Education and made us into capable human beings.
They have given us Security both Material and Emotional on which we and our children can live lavishly and comfortably for all of our lives.
They have also imbibed in us values, morals and a sense of Freedom and Confidence to conduct our lives.
There is a strange void now. The walls of their house that felt as the Womb where we were conceived and the bed where I could put my head and instantly go into a peaceful slumber does not embed us any more.
I know, we, my generation and the next, shall continue to support each other in good and bad times and after this time of ‘crisis’, stay supportive and together. May God bestow us with strength in carrying our family into the future with integrity and a rightful purpose!
Veena
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
22- The 60s
22- The 60s
Hotel Citade-de- Goa
‘It is Five star deluxe in every way, my friend VG left me yesterday to fly back to New York. I decided to stay some more to soak it all in.
The room is perfect with a large bay window looking on to the Sea. With cushions, pillows and a chair with stool, for aching legs, I feel IN as well as OUT of the Sea. You see the TIDES and you hear the TIDES right from here.
A minute ago I stood there, the SAND giving way to my feet. The tide seemed powerful, building as it came, and then giving a little push it fragmented and broke into bubbles and foam, receding back as if in ‘defeat to try again and the again’ leaving a line of salt, in protest. Strong as it seemed, the Sea stood there. I was free to stay or not.
Boats, small ships, a ferry, divers, Black rocks and interspersed bungalows were on the other side. Turning around, the Citade-de was majestic, sprawling the ‘CANVASS’, Coconut Palms rising from its midst and around, bending towards the ocean, reminding me of Arundhati’s ‘God of small things’. In the evening, soft western music fills the air and a platter of Goan, Indian, Chinese and continental food, people and Vernaculars abound.’
I had started taking the ‘Mood Stabilizer’ which curbed my energies to some degree.
Although I continued work, it began to often ‘feel’ a Burden on my mind. Depressed patients would make me depressed and Psychotics drained me. Dr. Gupta joined the ‘Practice’. He was energetic and increased the number of patients; also looking after them more. We got along but he was young and gradually, decided to build his own private set up and moved on.
In the mean time, the Male Nurse Surinder who had learnt, working with the difficult, often confused, violent, suicidal or un-co-operative admitted patients obtained a regular full time Govt. Job at Ranchi Mental Hospital. He had been with me for many years, working diligently, in his soft dignified and caring manner. By now he had himself gotten married and acquired 2 children. This new permanent Job with its ‘perks’ in the beautiful hill town of Ranchi, was too much to let go, and he also moved on.
All this gradually kept dis-heartening me. Outside world would still see me as the same energetic, dynamic Psychiatrist but within I was slowly and subtly feeling weaker.
I took a vacation in the summer of 2005 to go and see Divya, Anna and Craig in USA. She herself was going through her own issues. I returned disturbed.
It was at this time in 2006; I finally decided to close down my Inpatient unit at Samvedna. Nurse Jini who was also able to use the computer stayed on.
By now I was sort of comfortable with ‘the Windows’, the ‘Hot instant mails’, surfing, Googling and ‘Yahooing’ with friends and colleagues in the virtual e-Groups sitting in the comfort of my home. With Jini’s help we started computing some of my earlier and present ‘Out patient work’.
Although initially, I was not sure I was happy having done so but I certainly felt a relief and less burdened. The excitement and challenge of ‘care for acutely sick’ patients was now missing.
Out patients are a chronic lot. They become attached and dependent and their security is in you. At times this in itself becomes too much to handle. At other times this gives the drive and the motivation to go on. Each patient who had been under my care for years occupied a special chamber in my brain, of which they seemed a permanent part. There were even families where 3 consecutive generations had been in treatment. Gradually I started referring children and adolescents to the Child Psychiatrists and Drug and Alcohol dependents to the rehab programs. The nature of my clients began to change from the ‘sicker’ to ‘healthier’ others seeking solutions to daily living, problem careers, marriages, relationships and other types needing more therapy.
Dr. Rajesh again assigned me another role to be a co-chair person of the ‘Art of psychiatry’.
He thought I was the right person because of my ‘psycho-dynamically oriented and psycho- therapeutic training and approach’. How much of the dynamism was left in me, who could answer ???
It was perhaps 50 years ago, Mrs Ramsden, my English Teacher was leaving School to go abroad. In my Autograph book she wrote a line, “-----Veena you can be a leader too, inculcate this quality in yourself”.
Well it happened from time to time, without my doing too much about it.
In USA- Cincinnati I became the Chief Resident of My Psychiatry program.
In Birmingham I was the President of the Indian Association.
And now the President of Ind. Association of Private Psychiatry- Delhi
I do not want to be President of any thing any more. I am actually tired !!!
I live alone.
I have been accused of a ‘dictatorial’ streak in me.
I believe this to be true and responsible for me being ‘alone’.
It is hard to compromise if I ‘truly do not believe’ in some thing.
It has been hard to fight to survive as a ‘woman’.
I know many other women share the feeling and also fight.
I know also, many men ‘do not understand’, even those who love you and would ‘die for you’--
Is this ‘a madness’ on my part to ‘choose’ to live alone ?
Or is this a Rational reality to cope with that Dictatorial streak ?
In my character, is it a strength or a weakness ???
Son Karan was awarded the top ‘India times BPO emerging company of the year award 2008’ for outstanding performance in the young entrepreneur category.
I can surely take some credit for it.
Now I am a grand mother of Karan’s 2 boys and Divya’s daughter and Member of the Senior citizens forum. Life is going at a relaxed pace with less work, an ongoing group of friends
and close supportive family.
I also met Anil and struck a friendship. He is a widower having lost his wife some years ago to Cancer. He is a gentle and simple man of integrity, sense of humor and easy habits to get along with. We have some things in common and can share a bit of life. We also have our differences in that ‘Brain chemistry’ as it is called, but mostly, he goes along with me, which makes it all worth its while.
So I guess I can summarize and say, finally, I am taking life slow and easy, as it comes every day and trying to keep my ‘stability’.
Veena
Hotel Citade-de- Goa
‘It is Five star deluxe in every way, my friend VG left me yesterday to fly back to New York. I decided to stay some more to soak it all in.
The room is perfect with a large bay window looking on to the Sea. With cushions, pillows and a chair with stool, for aching legs, I feel IN as well as OUT of the Sea. You see the TIDES and you hear the TIDES right from here.
A minute ago I stood there, the SAND giving way to my feet. The tide seemed powerful, building as it came, and then giving a little push it fragmented and broke into bubbles and foam, receding back as if in ‘defeat to try again and the again’ leaving a line of salt, in protest. Strong as it seemed, the Sea stood there. I was free to stay or not.
Boats, small ships, a ferry, divers, Black rocks and interspersed bungalows were on the other side. Turning around, the Citade-de was majestic, sprawling the ‘CANVASS’, Coconut Palms rising from its midst and around, bending towards the ocean, reminding me of Arundhati’s ‘God of small things’. In the evening, soft western music fills the air and a platter of Goan, Indian, Chinese and continental food, people and Vernaculars abound.’
I had started taking the ‘Mood Stabilizer’ which curbed my energies to some degree.
Although I continued work, it began to often ‘feel’ a Burden on my mind. Depressed patients would make me depressed and Psychotics drained me. Dr. Gupta joined the ‘Practice’. He was energetic and increased the number of patients; also looking after them more. We got along but he was young and gradually, decided to build his own private set up and moved on.
In the mean time, the Male Nurse Surinder who had learnt, working with the difficult, often confused, violent, suicidal or un-co-operative admitted patients obtained a regular full time Govt. Job at Ranchi Mental Hospital. He had been with me for many years, working diligently, in his soft dignified and caring manner. By now he had himself gotten married and acquired 2 children. This new permanent Job with its ‘perks’ in the beautiful hill town of Ranchi, was too much to let go, and he also moved on.
All this gradually kept dis-heartening me. Outside world would still see me as the same energetic, dynamic Psychiatrist but within I was slowly and subtly feeling weaker.
I took a vacation in the summer of 2005 to go and see Divya, Anna and Craig in USA. She herself was going through her own issues. I returned disturbed.
It was at this time in 2006; I finally decided to close down my Inpatient unit at Samvedna. Nurse Jini who was also able to use the computer stayed on.
By now I was sort of comfortable with ‘the Windows’, the ‘Hot instant mails’, surfing, Googling and ‘Yahooing’ with friends and colleagues in the virtual e-Groups sitting in the comfort of my home. With Jini’s help we started computing some of my earlier and present ‘Out patient work’.
Although initially, I was not sure I was happy having done so but I certainly felt a relief and less burdened. The excitement and challenge of ‘care for acutely sick’ patients was now missing.
Out patients are a chronic lot. They become attached and dependent and their security is in you. At times this in itself becomes too much to handle. At other times this gives the drive and the motivation to go on. Each patient who had been under my care for years occupied a special chamber in my brain, of which they seemed a permanent part. There were even families where 3 consecutive generations had been in treatment. Gradually I started referring children and adolescents to the Child Psychiatrists and Drug and Alcohol dependents to the rehab programs. The nature of my clients began to change from the ‘sicker’ to ‘healthier’ others seeking solutions to daily living, problem careers, marriages, relationships and other types needing more therapy.
Dr. Rajesh again assigned me another role to be a co-chair person of the ‘Art of psychiatry’.
He thought I was the right person because of my ‘psycho-dynamically oriented and psycho- therapeutic training and approach’. How much of the dynamism was left in me, who could answer ???
It was perhaps 50 years ago, Mrs Ramsden, my English Teacher was leaving School to go abroad. In my Autograph book she wrote a line, “-----Veena you can be a leader too, inculcate this quality in yourself”.
Well it happened from time to time, without my doing too much about it.
In USA- Cincinnati I became the Chief Resident of My Psychiatry program.
In Birmingham I was the President of the Indian Association.
And now the President of Ind. Association of Private Psychiatry- Delhi
I do not want to be President of any thing any more. I am actually tired !!!
I live alone.
I have been accused of a ‘dictatorial’ streak in me.
I believe this to be true and responsible for me being ‘alone’.
It is hard to compromise if I ‘truly do not believe’ in some thing.
It has been hard to fight to survive as a ‘woman’.
I know many other women share the feeling and also fight.
I know also, many men ‘do not understand’, even those who love you and would ‘die for you’--
Is this ‘a madness’ on my part to ‘choose’ to live alone ?
Or is this a Rational reality to cope with that Dictatorial streak ?
In my character, is it a strength or a weakness ???
Son Karan was awarded the top ‘India times BPO emerging company of the year award 2008’ for outstanding performance in the young entrepreneur category.
I can surely take some credit for it.
Now I am a grand mother of Karan’s 2 boys and Divya’s daughter and Member of the Senior citizens forum. Life is going at a relaxed pace with less work, an ongoing group of friends
and close supportive family.
I also met Anil and struck a friendship. He is a widower having lost his wife some years ago to Cancer. He is a gentle and simple man of integrity, sense of humor and easy habits to get along with. We have some things in common and can share a bit of life. We also have our differences in that ‘Brain chemistry’ as it is called, but mostly, he goes along with me, which makes it all worth its while.
So I guess I can summarize and say, finally, I am taking life slow and easy, as it comes every day and trying to keep my ‘stability’.
Veena
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
21- the Patient
21- 2004 – The Patient
K visited last month. We had had some differences after and during our Italy trip, according to her, due to my over activity and irritability. Basically she has been my best friend for 40 years i.e. all of my adult life. We have shared our emotional lives in all times of ‘crisis’ no matter what and tried in our capacities to do what we could to comfort each other. She has been a mini mother to me all along.
She expressed her concern for me and my emotional state of ‘some times’ that I had spent with her through the years going way back. Also in view of my father’s illness of which she had been an observer and participant, there could be medical issues. She suggested that I get an objective view, an assessment. All along the last 30 years I used to feel I had mood changes periodically with pre-dominance of depression but no one would consider or agree that they were biological like my father’s.
I agreed. And we met a senior Psychiatrist ‘together’. Dr. Z agreed that I had a ‘Soft Bipolar illness’. He said it was true that I had not had a major episode of depression or elation as defined in the ‘text book’ but I had certainly suffered.
We discussed----my emotional lability sometimes taking me overboard.
He said, it was important that from now on I stayed in a balanced ‘mood state’.
For this I was suggested a ‘Stabilizer’, a chemical molecule or medicine that would keep the Brain Neurotransmitters within limits to prevent excess or depletion, resulting in clinical ‘elation or depression’.
I introspected. I knew, I and only I, was responsible for my life, my ideas and actions.
At times seriously, at times playfully, in spite of taking risks in school, college, jumping fences, literally, I was always able to perform, perform well, always able to laugh and cry.
I thought of the heavily laden emotional decisions I had made in life at various times not afraid of the risks.
I thought of the years of a life where every one saw me involved and active and happy.
I had lived life with energy, creativity and a certain leadership, steering my ship and reaching places.
And yet, there had been the constant stirrings of my ‘mind’,
There always was an awareness of a deeper sadness but I kept ‘going’ in more ways than one.
And then at times, I would feel tired just plain tired of doing and living—I need ‘not have felt so’ and so, tried to cut down, it only helped temporarily---
One evening, I had a good family visit with Jhai, Vikram and his family.
Decided to stay overnight and next morning drove the familiar Bara-khamba and Haley rd. crossing and parked before ‘Diwan Chand X rays’.
Dr. Surinder Aggarwal was a good friend of Babuji but I decided to be ‘me the patient’ rather than his daughter. The place was already crowded. The initial form filling, payment etc. etc---
I lay under the big machines eyeing my insides, upto the bone. I was to be still for 10 minutes-----
---I remembered having brought Babuji here some years ago for a late evening ECG. Of course he had passed away two days later---.
The cellular suddenly rang and I came back under the machine. I had the X RAYS and the Bone density. They were all OK.
I thought of the ACHES, these stupid aches and this stupid TIREDNESS.
Is it my hypochondriasis, ‘rheumatism’, a gene from my Mom? Is it bone, Joint, Muscle, Tendon, Spirit, or a rheumatic soul?
Is it the gene from my Dad?
I thought of some times of, ‘Vagueness, Blankness, Desire less-ness, Stillness, tendency to postpone, certain meaninglessness, a certain fear, lethargy, indifference, forced acceptance of life, clutter all around causing irritation----- ‘
I was holding a sensitive position as President of the Delhi chapter of Private Psychiatry.
Something within was sad, sad that I had to control my Brain from now on with Dr. Z’s help. Me ‘a doctor of the Brain’ for others, me responsible for so many others---.
So I agreed to go on the ‘Stabilizer’.
Veena
K visited last month. We had had some differences after and during our Italy trip, according to her, due to my over activity and irritability. Basically she has been my best friend for 40 years i.e. all of my adult life. We have shared our emotional lives in all times of ‘crisis’ no matter what and tried in our capacities to do what we could to comfort each other. She has been a mini mother to me all along.
She expressed her concern for me and my emotional state of ‘some times’ that I had spent with her through the years going way back. Also in view of my father’s illness of which she had been an observer and participant, there could be medical issues. She suggested that I get an objective view, an assessment. All along the last 30 years I used to feel I had mood changes periodically with pre-dominance of depression but no one would consider or agree that they were biological like my father’s.
I agreed. And we met a senior Psychiatrist ‘together’. Dr. Z agreed that I had a ‘Soft Bipolar illness’. He said it was true that I had not had a major episode of depression or elation as defined in the ‘text book’ but I had certainly suffered.
We discussed----my emotional lability sometimes taking me overboard.
He said, it was important that from now on I stayed in a balanced ‘mood state’.
For this I was suggested a ‘Stabilizer’, a chemical molecule or medicine that would keep the Brain Neurotransmitters within limits to prevent excess or depletion, resulting in clinical ‘elation or depression’.
I introspected. I knew, I and only I, was responsible for my life, my ideas and actions.
At times seriously, at times playfully, in spite of taking risks in school, college, jumping fences, literally, I was always able to perform, perform well, always able to laugh and cry.
I thought of the heavily laden emotional decisions I had made in life at various times not afraid of the risks.
I thought of the years of a life where every one saw me involved and active and happy.
I had lived life with energy, creativity and a certain leadership, steering my ship and reaching places.
And yet, there had been the constant stirrings of my ‘mind’,
There always was an awareness of a deeper sadness but I kept ‘going’ in more ways than one.
And then at times, I would feel tired just plain tired of doing and living—I need ‘not have felt so’ and so, tried to cut down, it only helped temporarily---
One evening, I had a good family visit with Jhai, Vikram and his family.
Decided to stay overnight and next morning drove the familiar Bara-khamba and Haley rd. crossing and parked before ‘Diwan Chand X rays’.
Dr. Surinder Aggarwal was a good friend of Babuji but I decided to be ‘me the patient’ rather than his daughter. The place was already crowded. The initial form filling, payment etc. etc---
I lay under the big machines eyeing my insides, upto the bone. I was to be still for 10 minutes-----
---I remembered having brought Babuji here some years ago for a late evening ECG. Of course he had passed away two days later---.
The cellular suddenly rang and I came back under the machine. I had the X RAYS and the Bone density. They were all OK.
I thought of the ACHES, these stupid aches and this stupid TIREDNESS.
Is it my hypochondriasis, ‘rheumatism’, a gene from my Mom? Is it bone, Joint, Muscle, Tendon, Spirit, or a rheumatic soul?
Is it the gene from my Dad?
I thought of some times of, ‘Vagueness, Blankness, Desire less-ness, Stillness, tendency to postpone, certain meaninglessness, a certain fear, lethargy, indifference, forced acceptance of life, clutter all around causing irritation----- ‘
I was holding a sensitive position as President of the Delhi chapter of Private Psychiatry.
Something within was sad, sad that I had to control my Brain from now on with Dr. Z’s help. Me ‘a doctor of the Brain’ for others, me responsible for so many others---.
So I agreed to go on the ‘Stabilizer’.
Veena
Thursday, October 28, 2010
20- Italy for me-3
20-Italy for me-3
Firenze or Florence was 2 hours train ride from Venice.
Hotel Lungarno was close to the station, overlooking the River. Although we were booked for the river view we were told all rooms with the view had been taken. Kusum looked at me and looked at the Italian at the counter and decided to act ‘Indian’. She flashed her Gold, sorry, Platinum American Express card at him and demanded to talk to ‘The incharge’. We were immediately asked to wait with a cup of tea and then upgraded to special suits although still not with the ‘view’. The bathroom was huge with 2 separate showerheads for him and her I suppose.
We decided to take a walk in the city, Capital of Tuscany and were amazed at the narrow streets, mostly one way or cobbled but lined with the most exquisite and famous brand name stores. Across the bridge was the ‘Jewels’ street filled with Gold and Diamonds galore. Every few steps one heard music from the strings of a Guitar or drums beating to tapping feet of hovering tourists like us. As the Sun set on the waters of the River, my friend would spot a spot for a glass of Wine and Pasta for Dinner.
According to UNESCO 60% of world’s most important Art works are in Italy and half of these are in Florence. It is the city of the Great personalities of the 16th century like Leonardo, Raffaello and Michelangelo, replete with their works. After a tiring morning tour of the Uffizi gallery and the Duomo or Cathedral, we walked to Galleria Academia which houses ‘David’ the young shepherd who was to become the King of Israel, the ‘Biblical hero’ who had defeated the giant Goliath. Nothing said could prepare you for the grandeur, the perfect proportions and beauty of the sculpture of David, indeed the handsomest man I ever experienced even though in Marble.
Life of Michelangelo was entirely dedicated to art. Not only did he sculpt, he was an astounding painter, an Architect and a poet. A long and existential route fed on passionate research and maniacal energy that seemed to be born from an infinite pain, melancholy and extravagant temperament. He worked without a pause absorbed by creative frenzy and an unquenchable thirst for beauty. So it is said, and we believe, that ‘Genius and desperation seem universal and timeless’.
We took a day trip to Sienna, capital of Chianti, which may sound a familiar bell for the wine connoisseurs. The Tuscan country side is set across rolling hills, valleys, rows of Cypresses, deep green vineyards, Olives, olives and olive trees. No wonder, the lady sitting next to me with a ruddy complexion, said this was her 13th trip to Tuscany from the U.S. She with 3 others was on a Bicycle tour, staying in a private villa they had discovered earlier. The bus dropped us at a point outside the walled town San Giovanni, perched on a hilltop. Main street was lined by little Tuscan ceramic pottery shops, art galleries, pastticcerias (pastry shops) and geleterias (gelato being an incomparable hand made Italian Icecream) of which I had a lick from Kusum who was not counting calories at this moment. At the end was a Piazza named after a well at the center, ancient palaces and a huge Cathedral on one side.
Sienna further down has the Town hall with Bells, which can be heard all the way to Rome, if the wind is right. The heart shaped Piazza is the urban meeting point where the world famous Palio horse race is held every year. Its main cathedral has striking Zebra like Black and white marble stripes on the walls and inlays of mythological figures from the Old Testament on the floor.
We were taken for Lunch to what seemed like a dark dungeon like basement but was enchanting once the eyes adjusted. Of course we wined and ate in candle-light. Kusum a doctor of kids struck up friendship with Amy across our table, a 3 year old who was also touring with her ‘Male mom and Dad’.
The day done, we found tea by the setting Sun, not enough hot, for us from India and boarded the bus to Firenze and then the train next morning to Rome and then the plane, Delta and KLM to our respective destinations, Delhi and the big Apple New york.
Veena
Firenze or Florence was 2 hours train ride from Venice.
Hotel Lungarno was close to the station, overlooking the River. Although we were booked for the river view we were told all rooms with the view had been taken. Kusum looked at me and looked at the Italian at the counter and decided to act ‘Indian’. She flashed her Gold, sorry, Platinum American Express card at him and demanded to talk to ‘The incharge’. We were immediately asked to wait with a cup of tea and then upgraded to special suits although still not with the ‘view’. The bathroom was huge with 2 separate showerheads for him and her I suppose.
We decided to take a walk in the city, Capital of Tuscany and were amazed at the narrow streets, mostly one way or cobbled but lined with the most exquisite and famous brand name stores. Across the bridge was the ‘Jewels’ street filled with Gold and Diamonds galore. Every few steps one heard music from the strings of a Guitar or drums beating to tapping feet of hovering tourists like us. As the Sun set on the waters of the River, my friend would spot a spot for a glass of Wine and Pasta for Dinner.
According to UNESCO 60% of world’s most important Art works are in Italy and half of these are in Florence. It is the city of the Great personalities of the 16th century like Leonardo, Raffaello and Michelangelo, replete with their works. After a tiring morning tour of the Uffizi gallery and the Duomo or Cathedral, we walked to Galleria Academia which houses ‘David’ the young shepherd who was to become the King of Israel, the ‘Biblical hero’ who had defeated the giant Goliath. Nothing said could prepare you for the grandeur, the perfect proportions and beauty of the sculpture of David, indeed the handsomest man I ever experienced even though in Marble.
Life of Michelangelo was entirely dedicated to art. Not only did he sculpt, he was an astounding painter, an Architect and a poet. A long and existential route fed on passionate research and maniacal energy that seemed to be born from an infinite pain, melancholy and extravagant temperament. He worked without a pause absorbed by creative frenzy and an unquenchable thirst for beauty. So it is said, and we believe, that ‘Genius and desperation seem universal and timeless’.
We took a day trip to Sienna, capital of Chianti, which may sound a familiar bell for the wine connoisseurs. The Tuscan country side is set across rolling hills, valleys, rows of Cypresses, deep green vineyards, Olives, olives and olive trees. No wonder, the lady sitting next to me with a ruddy complexion, said this was her 13th trip to Tuscany from the U.S. She with 3 others was on a Bicycle tour, staying in a private villa they had discovered earlier. The bus dropped us at a point outside the walled town San Giovanni, perched on a hilltop. Main street was lined by little Tuscan ceramic pottery shops, art galleries, pastticcerias (pastry shops) and geleterias (gelato being an incomparable hand made Italian Icecream) of which I had a lick from Kusum who was not counting calories at this moment. At the end was a Piazza named after a well at the center, ancient palaces and a huge Cathedral on one side.
Sienna further down has the Town hall with Bells, which can be heard all the way to Rome, if the wind is right. The heart shaped Piazza is the urban meeting point where the world famous Palio horse race is held every year. Its main cathedral has striking Zebra like Black and white marble stripes on the walls and inlays of mythological figures from the Old Testament on the floor.
We were taken for Lunch to what seemed like a dark dungeon like basement but was enchanting once the eyes adjusted. Of course we wined and ate in candle-light. Kusum a doctor of kids struck up friendship with Amy across our table, a 3 year old who was also touring with her ‘Male mom and Dad’.
The day done, we found tea by the setting Sun, not enough hot, for us from India and boarded the bus to Firenze and then the train next morning to Rome and then the plane, Delta and KLM to our respective destinations, Delhi and the big Apple New york.
Veena
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
20- Italy for me-2
20-Italy for me- 2
It was darkish when I opened my eyes. I could hear my friend Kusum’s heavy breathing. Having come from Delhi, I had gained 5 hours and traveling East, she had lost 5. We were dealing with this along with other mis-matches, like her excessive energy and faster reflexes compared to mine, her dynamism compared to my laid backish-ness, her fondness for the various little edible residents of the Sea with bubbly wine to my having detached somewhat from desires of fanciful foods etc.
Under the soft blankets I, dorsi and planter flexed my toes to get a head start, I squeezed various muscles of the top and low back, I dug my shoulders, small of the spine and Knees into the mattress and finally stealthily got out, responding to my nature’s call.
The ‘loo’ was as luxurious as the room. Outside the window, the sky was turning a slight pink. The Brick building was the Stazione/station with sparse tourists at this time. The steps going down, a wide platform and then the Canal, the Grand Canal which was the main street of Venice, right beneath my window---. A boat stopped at the Hotel steps with boxes, which were downloaded by the staff. Another boat with groceries, a water taxi as they call it speeded fast, the passenger water bus stopping across with hardly any people, suitcases coming out of the hotel queuing before another boat----. It was fantastic, so much going on so smoothly, the muffled sounds and the natural lapping of the waves of water flowing on----. The sky was brightening------
We had had a 4 hour run by Euro-rail from Rome and reached here yesterday. It was better than 1st class travel back home. Outside, were the range of Blue hills under Blue skies. The train would advance into them and then get enclosed by Chalets, villas, fields and the valley. Lunch was lavish with many courses and lots of pasta and Meat.
Orienting ourselves to this water city and reaching Hotel Carlton was a bit tough with our bags but once in, we were really taken in.
Called the Queen of the Adriatic, Venice was built on 117 small islands with many bridges and a town settlement around Rivo Alto later called Rialto. It was an enduring Mercantile Sea-power in the 5th-6th AD but down the years has become neglected and polluted. It nevertheless, is always bursting with tourists visiting its monuments, Boroque back street churches and quaint markets.
St. Mark’s Basilica is a spectacular house of worship with Golden Mosaics and 12th century marble pavement.
St. Mark’s square with the columns and bell-tower of San Marco, was chosen, plundered and housed by Napoleon, later flocked by pigeons and tourists alike. A statue of Garibaldi stands with the ‘winged Lion’.
Rialto with its stone Bridge is the commercial center of Venice. In the interior one can find the over full vegetable market called the ’Erbaria’, the ‘Drapperria’ for the sale of fabric and finest silk, the ‘Beccaria for the sale of meats, the ‘Caseri’ for cheese and Pescheria’ for fish--- Every day, among sardines, and giltheads, clams, tramps, basses and sturgeions a tradition is celebrated. All around are also several Artisan shops with Glass works from famous Murano and colorful jewelry items.
Personally after riding the Shikaras of Kashmir I was a little disappointed with the famous Gondola ride which was rather expensive and cold at night---
Ofcourse when they sang “O Sole Mio and Be Sami Mucho” I was truly missing Vikram Seth’s---- ‘Equal Music’, the part where Michael and Julia re-visit Venice and go to the performance---Was it Bach? Mozart? “No, Monteverdi and Vivaldi”, she had said.
“The gleaming fractured ochre and black floor of the main hall led to the rooms. Each room became more fantastical, filled with the assorted brilliance and bric-a-brac of centuries, tapestries, gilt sofas with Brocade backs, painted doors, huge ornate green marble topped tables, glass candelabra bursting into wings and flowers, clocks supported by yawning bears, little statuettes peering and beckoning at us from every niche and corner------ ” goes on Vikram Seth.
Sorry I got carried away ---He does that to me----
And so then, we were carried to the Stazione by the water boat and left the Adriatic also known as the city of the ‘Winged Lion’.
Veena Kapoor
It was darkish when I opened my eyes. I could hear my friend Kusum’s heavy breathing. Having come from Delhi, I had gained 5 hours and traveling East, she had lost 5. We were dealing with this along with other mis-matches, like her excessive energy and faster reflexes compared to mine, her dynamism compared to my laid backish-ness, her fondness for the various little edible residents of the Sea with bubbly wine to my having detached somewhat from desires of fanciful foods etc.
Under the soft blankets I, dorsi and planter flexed my toes to get a head start, I squeezed various muscles of the top and low back, I dug my shoulders, small of the spine and Knees into the mattress and finally stealthily got out, responding to my nature’s call.
The ‘loo’ was as luxurious as the room. Outside the window, the sky was turning a slight pink. The Brick building was the Stazione/station with sparse tourists at this time. The steps going down, a wide platform and then the Canal, the Grand Canal which was the main street of Venice, right beneath my window---. A boat stopped at the Hotel steps with boxes, which were downloaded by the staff. Another boat with groceries, a water taxi as they call it speeded fast, the passenger water bus stopping across with hardly any people, suitcases coming out of the hotel queuing before another boat----. It was fantastic, so much going on so smoothly, the muffled sounds and the natural lapping of the waves of water flowing on----. The sky was brightening------
We had had a 4 hour run by Euro-rail from Rome and reached here yesterday. It was better than 1st class travel back home. Outside, were the range of Blue hills under Blue skies. The train would advance into them and then get enclosed by Chalets, villas, fields and the valley. Lunch was lavish with many courses and lots of pasta and Meat.
Orienting ourselves to this water city and reaching Hotel Carlton was a bit tough with our bags but once in, we were really taken in.
Called the Queen of the Adriatic, Venice was built on 117 small islands with many bridges and a town settlement around Rivo Alto later called Rialto. It was an enduring Mercantile Sea-power in the 5th-6th AD but down the years has become neglected and polluted. It nevertheless, is always bursting with tourists visiting its monuments, Boroque back street churches and quaint markets.
St. Mark’s Basilica is a spectacular house of worship with Golden Mosaics and 12th century marble pavement.
St. Mark’s square with the columns and bell-tower of San Marco, was chosen, plundered and housed by Napoleon, later flocked by pigeons and tourists alike. A statue of Garibaldi stands with the ‘winged Lion’.
Rialto with its stone Bridge is the commercial center of Venice. In the interior one can find the over full vegetable market called the ’Erbaria’, the ‘Drapperria’ for the sale of fabric and finest silk, the ‘Beccaria for the sale of meats, the ‘Caseri’ for cheese and Pescheria’ for fish--- Every day, among sardines, and giltheads, clams, tramps, basses and sturgeions a tradition is celebrated. All around are also several Artisan shops with Glass works from famous Murano and colorful jewelry items.
Personally after riding the Shikaras of Kashmir I was a little disappointed with the famous Gondola ride which was rather expensive and cold at night---
Ofcourse when they sang “O Sole Mio and Be Sami Mucho” I was truly missing Vikram Seth’s---- ‘Equal Music’, the part where Michael and Julia re-visit Venice and go to the performance---Was it Bach? Mozart? “No, Monteverdi and Vivaldi”, she had said.
“The gleaming fractured ochre and black floor of the main hall led to the rooms. Each room became more fantastical, filled with the assorted brilliance and bric-a-brac of centuries, tapestries, gilt sofas with Brocade backs, painted doors, huge ornate green marble topped tables, glass candelabra bursting into wings and flowers, clocks supported by yawning bears, little statuettes peering and beckoning at us from every niche and corner------ ” goes on Vikram Seth.
Sorry I got carried away ---He does that to me----
And so then, we were carried to the Stazione by the water boat and left the Adriatic also known as the city of the ‘Winged Lion’.
Veena Kapoor
Saturday, October 16, 2010
20-Italy for me-1
20-Italy for me-1
Friday- 9.30 PM- Delhi-Oct.2003
Just flicking the TV channels I thought I would check on today’s Movie, and lo and behold Universal and Dreamworks production ‘Gladiator’ was on. Since I had missed seeing it earlier I stayed on to watch Russell Crowe, the Oscar winner. Absolutely fantastic! Especially so, as my friend Kusum and I had planned an Italian Holiday soon after.
I had taken the cab at Leonardo da vinci air port and had entered Rome of the Romans, passing by lot of familiar and not so familiar structures, images from History - “Is that the Coliseum” I asked the fat cab guy. He nodded his head in affirmative. Wow!
Passed by lots and lots of narrow winding streets and sharp bends and finally reached the Hotel. Parted with 80 Euro which I felt was steep and buzzed Kusum who was slumbering, having arrived 3 hours ahead of me from Manhattan, New York.
She laughed in mirth when she saw and met me. You see, she has been a friend of 40 years, right from the times we ‘shared’ the hostel room at Maulana Azad and of course also the Matching Chunnies and Salwars which, never could I find when in need. But she had been a good friend helping me in many of my life’s ‘crisis’ as ‘life’ rolled by, a roller coaster ride on the virtual Disney globe of ours.
We charted our plans after a ‘cuppa’. First things first, the room roared of ‘Bikes’ on the road going at Suicidal speed. It was customary to go without silencers in Rome, I learnt later. So we moved the room to the other side, also with an adjoining little open balcony where Kusum inhaled the breath from the Italian Sky and I from Delhi, glanced through the windows feeling the chill. (Lack of Thyroid did not seem to bother her)
The Hotel stood on the top edge of Spanish steps and commanded an excellent view of the ‘Steps’ and those perched on them. At the bottom was the Boat shaped fountain of Bernini surrounded by the Piazza and the Musicians ‘hanging around’, who I learnt were always there, one group or another.
‘Italo’ was the guide and ‘Amalo’ was the driver of our first city tour.
I was conscious of the shift from 3rd world humanity to 1st around me, from disarray to array, indiscipline to discipline, disorder to some rational order in the general scheme of things.
Rome was probably one of the first cities that came up 7-800BC around River Tiber. The people were gregarious as they are even today (we have seen them in the series of ‘Godfathers’) and the Empire spread from Northern England to Mesopotamia, River Danube in North to the Nile in the South. After the Monarchs, the Soldiers, the Barbarians and the Republicans there was the rise of Christianity in the 10th century and the pope got powerful. Things were lavish and pilgrims came from all over. The great Artists Raphel, Bernini, Medicis transformed Rome into a wonderland. As we did the tours we realized, Rome meant History, layers and layers of it. The Imperial temples, the Churches, Renaissance palaces and Boroque basilicas are all breathtaking. Roman Forum now in ruins, used to be the political and religious center in Ancient times, reminded me of Purana Kila and the Tughlakabad Fort at Delhi.
The Coliseum built in 80 AD was the amphitheater that could house 50,000 spectators, a sample of the setting of the Modern Olympics. It actually seemed a house of Horrors, a sample of which is shown by Russel Crowe as the Gladiator in the ‘Gladiator’ who saved the honor of Rome and had returned it to the Romans from the tyranny of a useless Monarch.
Trevi fountain is the famous ‘3 coins in the fountain’ attracting most romantics and most coins in the world. I could not but miss the rather assertive Bangla-deshi boys selling red Roses to young couples, making plenty of Euros for a living. Needless to say, we put our coins, hummed, “Three coins in the fountain, which one shall it -----“, sat gazing at the fountains and ruminating over past and future ‘loves’.
Vatican City in the heart of Rome is the World’s smallest independent state. Headed by the Pope it is house to a million Catholics worldwide. It is probably per square foot the richest country in the world owning an astonishing collection of priceless art treasures including Michelangelo’s work in the Sistine Chapel. If I had one place to see in the world I would see the ‘Vatican’.
Rome ostensibly remains a tourist center with Sculpture and marble at every nook, Wine with every meal and Pasta, pasta and more pasta-----
Veena
Friday- 9.30 PM- Delhi-Oct.2003
Just flicking the TV channels I thought I would check on today’s Movie, and lo and behold Universal and Dreamworks production ‘Gladiator’ was on. Since I had missed seeing it earlier I stayed on to watch Russell Crowe, the Oscar winner. Absolutely fantastic! Especially so, as my friend Kusum and I had planned an Italian Holiday soon after.
I had taken the cab at Leonardo da vinci air port and had entered Rome of the Romans, passing by lot of familiar and not so familiar structures, images from History - “Is that the Coliseum” I asked the fat cab guy. He nodded his head in affirmative. Wow!
Passed by lots and lots of narrow winding streets and sharp bends and finally reached the Hotel. Parted with 80 Euro which I felt was steep and buzzed Kusum who was slumbering, having arrived 3 hours ahead of me from Manhattan, New York.
She laughed in mirth when she saw and met me. You see, she has been a friend of 40 years, right from the times we ‘shared’ the hostel room at Maulana Azad and of course also the Matching Chunnies and Salwars which, never could I find when in need. But she had been a good friend helping me in many of my life’s ‘crisis’ as ‘life’ rolled by, a roller coaster ride on the virtual Disney globe of ours.
We charted our plans after a ‘cuppa’. First things first, the room roared of ‘Bikes’ on the road going at Suicidal speed. It was customary to go without silencers in Rome, I learnt later. So we moved the room to the other side, also with an adjoining little open balcony where Kusum inhaled the breath from the Italian Sky and I from Delhi, glanced through the windows feeling the chill. (Lack of Thyroid did not seem to bother her)
The Hotel stood on the top edge of Spanish steps and commanded an excellent view of the ‘Steps’ and those perched on them. At the bottom was the Boat shaped fountain of Bernini surrounded by the Piazza and the Musicians ‘hanging around’, who I learnt were always there, one group or another.
‘Italo’ was the guide and ‘Amalo’ was the driver of our first city tour.
I was conscious of the shift from 3rd world humanity to 1st around me, from disarray to array, indiscipline to discipline, disorder to some rational order in the general scheme of things.
Rome was probably one of the first cities that came up 7-800BC around River Tiber. The people were gregarious as they are even today (we have seen them in the series of ‘Godfathers’) and the Empire spread from Northern England to Mesopotamia, River Danube in North to the Nile in the South. After the Monarchs, the Soldiers, the Barbarians and the Republicans there was the rise of Christianity in the 10th century and the pope got powerful. Things were lavish and pilgrims came from all over. The great Artists Raphel, Bernini, Medicis transformed Rome into a wonderland. As we did the tours we realized, Rome meant History, layers and layers of it. The Imperial temples, the Churches, Renaissance palaces and Boroque basilicas are all breathtaking. Roman Forum now in ruins, used to be the political and religious center in Ancient times, reminded me of Purana Kila and the Tughlakabad Fort at Delhi.
The Coliseum built in 80 AD was the amphitheater that could house 50,000 spectators, a sample of the setting of the Modern Olympics. It actually seemed a house of Horrors, a sample of which is shown by Russel Crowe as the Gladiator in the ‘Gladiator’ who saved the honor of Rome and had returned it to the Romans from the tyranny of a useless Monarch.
Trevi fountain is the famous ‘3 coins in the fountain’ attracting most romantics and most coins in the world. I could not but miss the rather assertive Bangla-deshi boys selling red Roses to young couples, making plenty of Euros for a living. Needless to say, we put our coins, hummed, “Three coins in the fountain, which one shall it -----“, sat gazing at the fountains and ruminating over past and future ‘loves’.
Vatican City in the heart of Rome is the World’s smallest independent state. Headed by the Pope it is house to a million Catholics worldwide. It is probably per square foot the richest country in the world owning an astonishing collection of priceless art treasures including Michelangelo’s work in the Sistine Chapel. If I had one place to see in the world I would see the ‘Vatican’.
Rome ostensibly remains a tourist center with Sculpture and marble at every nook, Wine with every meal and Pasta, pasta and more pasta-----
Veena
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