The silence within my walls is profound. In India, there is quiet punctuated by the sounds of activity: the vendors, the motorcycles, the cook coming in, the incessant phone. Here my silent cats sleep, and as there is a chill, my windows are shut. The noise I hear is the fridge, mildly roaring. I miss my family, the hundred daily things that makes middle-class life in India so livable, […]
This time in my aunt’s house, in Chennai. Can time be measured in circling ceiling fans, beating back the heat? In the afternoons, perhaps, but mornings, papers rustle, the breeze cool. It’s been almost ten years since I’ve been here last. The family has gotten smaller, and grief leaks. My father; my uncle. Meals are served, the rustling papers read. Outrage over the news. Could not a million be spent than […]
There is an essay by Natalia Ginzberg in which she writes about disliking summer: the heat, the crowds. I felt a kinship immediately. Summer for me is the cool shade, sipping cold drinks, and reading. It is seeing the sea in the mist, the sharp clarity of mountain air. And it is vacation to other places, something which is rare for me in most of summers. I am two weeks back from a family trip to London and Paris. I traveled on Wow Air, packed a new Tom Bihn bag, realized I liked the journey to much more than the journey back, despite very good seatmates. On the way to, I had the window, and much to anticipate.
In London, we saw the Chelsea Physic Garden, full of herbal lore and a nice tea.
Indira Ganesan, C.P.G: roses in trees, 2016
Indira Ganesan, C.P.G: Bench with trellis, 2016
The reason for the trip started last October when my brother, sister-in-law, and niece logged in for theater tickets.
And after the play, there was more: to Stonehenge on a bus tour with an archeologist; Paris, where the croissants were drenched in butter, and the gardens in bloom; and back to England to see my cousin & family. Discovering a mall underneath the Louvre In between, I snuck a trip out to the country to see an old friend; met more old friends,and later floated floor by floor one afternoon in Waterstones.
Waterstones mailed me a package covered in brown paper, filled with books. It was already waiting for me when I got back. I might have used the same method to bring presents for friends, I realized too late. Reason enough to go back.