Picking up where we left off: Back, alive and kicking

Hello again from Porbandar, almost the Western tip of India. The sun sets here around 7:30 p.m. which is crazy, for someone like me who's used to twilight around 6. It's taking some getting used to, my brain still thinks it's late afternoon even though it is time to switch modes from being an advertising professional to a blogging Sunny Nomad.

We've landed a nice little flat on the sixth floor and when I work, I gaze out at some greenery. If I crane my neck, I can catch a glimpse of a river in the distance. It's nice. The other day, a couple of flamingos cruised past as I looked out for some inspiration. Isn't it wonderful when you're rewarded so handsomely? Unfortunately, by the time I got out my camera, they were way past the zoom capabilities of my point-and-shoot.

Our very few neighbours are helpful and settling in has been made possible by our very efficient chowkidar (watchman) Karsanbhai. I also have to remind myself that every woman is a 'ben' while every man is a 'bhai' in these parts. You show respect by calling someone 'mota bhai' or 'mota ben' - loosely translated ben is sister, bhai is brother and mota means someone older. The other day I received a package, and the mailman called me Priyankaben Nayar!

While I speak a smattering of the Mumbai version of Gujarati, N is fluent in the Kathiawadi dialect spoken here. When I open my mouth, I usually end up amusing the listeners, but am learning to overcome my embarrassment and soldiering on.

The picture above offers you a glimpse of a lovely reflection from my balcony in the soft evening light. The breeze just completes the feeling of being on a vacation island, high above the noise and pollution. What a glamourous vision of Porbandar, don't you think?

Since my work has resumed full time, all the DIY projects I've been dreaming of will take some time before they take physical form. But I hope to share something pretty soon. My kitchen needs rescuing, every day I find a new way to organise and re-organise almost everything. Those tips I pinned about using baskets for storage (since we have an acute shortage of cabinets) have come in handy. In Mumbai, I dragged N to Crawford market just so we could pick up some quaint old wicker baskets. They've been an absolute life-saver.

This weekend, I intend to pretty up the open storage and hang some pictures on the walls. Am looking forward to making the home cozy and comfortable, one day at a time. Cookies and lazy mornings are what keep me going!

But enough about me. How have you been?

Vintage Treasures: Mahatma Gandhi's Home

A quaint little house stands testimony to the simple, rustic life of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, Father of our Nation. He was born in Porbandar and lived in this house until his teen years. As you duck when you pass through the short doorways, you wonder how a tiny, frail man could have managed everything that he did. About how he continues to inspire people around the world with his words - written and spoken.

A bus-load of senior citizens clamber up the precarious staircase, holding onto the rope for dear life. They speak a tongue, foreign in these parts but comfortingly familiar to me. I interject their chatter with, "where have you come from?", in Marathi. A happily surprised smile, a short pause and the dhoti-clad gentleman breaks into Marathi that could only be from Pune. Am from Mumbai, and there is usually a mildly cold war between the two cities of Maharashtra. One, the commercial capital of the state and India. The other, the bastion of all that represents the Marathi warrior. 

But in these parts, we bond over the syllables of a common language. I relish the texture of the words being formed in my mouth, and I strain to hear the gurgling sound of my mother tongue from these village folk. Strangely, am comforted by the fact that home is indeed not that far away. 

As we amble through the museum and get ready to leave the sunny courtyard, I look back one last time. The lady in the nine yard saree, who had almost not made it to the top floor, mops her forehead with the corner of her pallu. Even though she has skipped the trek to the third floor, she seems satisfied with her tour to a sliver of history.

Shutter Love: Porbandar

Hello, hope you had a lovely weekend. We spent ours travelling from the state of Gujarat to the state of Kerala. En-route, we had a grand time with family and friends in Mumbai. It's wonderful to be back home though, and am looking forward to a week filled with once-familiar, now blurry in memory sounds, sights and smells.

Before we left Porbandar, I had intended to do a full post which captured the city through my pictures. So here it is, visions of a wonderful time getting to know a new port and people. The pictures capture life around the sea, simply because that is where I hung out most often.

More pictures of Porbandar from a tour of Mahatma Gandhi's home tomorrow.

Shutter Love: A day at the Porbandar Bird Sanctuary

Porbandar is pretty much complete chaos - madly honking motorcycles, deafeningly noisy chakdas (hybrid motorcycle carriers), stray bovines and their worshipers, smoke, dust and the omnipresent smell of drying fish! Yes, welcome to the land of the Mahatma. It's one saving grace is the promenade by the sea. Until we discovered the bird sanctuary here.

I've had a grand weekend filled with chirps, gentle sounds of water and serenity at the sanctuary. Tucked away in one little alley down the main street, this place is an absolute treasure. As N and I pushed open the metal gate of the sanctuary on Saturday evening, I wasn't expecting much. I had read that several species of birds come here, some migratory. But nothing in my mind's eye had come close to what we saw - cormorants and herons by the dozens, peacefully lounging on the man-made isles on a lake. Pelicans swimming along regally. Naughty Pintals splashing about. And a few others I haven't been identify yet.

The light wasn't right that evening, so I returned the next morning and again a couple of hours before sunset. A friendly dude who was busy clicking like a pro pointed me towards another cove where I could find Flamingos! 

I had a field day snapping away, I was so excited, I just couldn't stop. I must have clicked about 300 pictures that day. Needless to say, the avian species is not one to pose for bumbling photographers. I think I have about  two dozen really great pictures!

Here's a few of my favourites.