Purpling

A friend pointed me out to this fantastic poem that said..(and I excerpt):

"When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me...

...I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens . . .

. . .But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple


The other day I met people from years ago at an informal reunion of old school friends. The last time we'd seen each other, we were still in pigtails and uniforms and just months past the braces and giggles.

Indrani reminded us more than once of occasions that involved what she called my "brashness" and "spontaneity" but meant my erstwhile propensity to relentlessly and loudly stomp where no one had stumbled before. I used to have chronic foot-in-the-mouth disease in my tom-boy days!

And yet, as I have grown up, I have miraculously managed to make a career as a communication professional! I have to admit, though, that as I have grown more responsible, more correct, more political, more restrained, more stable, I have grown less honest to my "self."

Thanks for the inspiration, Jenny Joseph. You would've enjoyed the giggles if you'd seen the silliness at Cafe Coffee Day on Ballygunje Circular Road that afternoon.

The Wise Indian Chief Seattle Speaks

In 1854, when “the great White Chief in Washington” offered to buy the land from the Indians, Chief Seattle, leader of the Suquamish and other Indian tribes around Washington's Puget Sound, delivered what is considered to be one of the most beautiful and profound environmental statements ever made.

The city of Seattle is named for the chief, whose speech was in response to a proposed treaty under which the Indians were persuaded to sell two million acres of land for $150,000.

"How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us.
If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?

Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing and humming insect is holy in memory and experience of my people. The sap which courses through the trees carries the memories of the red man.

The white man’s dead forget the country of their birth when they go to walk among the stars. Our dead never forget this beautiful earth, for it is the mother of the red man. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters; the horse, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the juices in the meadows, the body heat of the pony, and man — all belong to the same family.

So, when the Great Chief in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land, he asks much of us. The Great Chief sends word he will reserve us a place so that we can live comfortably to ourselves. He will be our father and we will be his children. So we will consider your offer to buy our land. But it will not be easy. For this land is sacred to us.

This shining water moves in the streams and rivers is not just water but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you land, you must remember that it is sacred and you must teach your children that it is sacred and that each ghostly reflection in the clear water of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The water’s murmur is the voice of my father’s father.

The rivers are our brothers, they quench our thirst. The rivers carry our canoes, and feed our children. If we sell you our land, you must remember, and teach your children, that the rivers are our brothers, and yours and you must henceforth give the kindness you would give any brother.

We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother but his enemy, and when he has conquered it, he moves on.

He leaves his father’s graves behind, and he does not care. He kidnaps the earth from his children. His father’s grave and his children’s birthright are forgotten. He treats his mother, the earth, and his brother, the sky, as things to be bought, plundered, sold like sheep or bright beads. His appetite will devour the earth and leave behind only a desert.

I do not know. Our ways are different from your ways. The sight of your cities pains the eyes of the red man. But perhaps it is because the red man is a savage and does not understand.

There is no quiet place in the white man’s cities. No place to hear the unfurling of leaves in spring, or the rustle of an insect’s wings. But perhaps it is because I am a savage and do not understand. The clatter only seems to insult the ears. And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lonely cry of the whippoorwill or the arguments of the frogs around a pond at night?

I am a red man and do not understand. The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind darting over the face of a pond, and the smell of the wind itself, cleansed by a midday rain, or scented with the pinon pine.

The air is precious to the red man, for all things share the same breath — the beast, the tree, the man, they all share the same breath. The white man does not seem to notice the air he breathes. Like a man dying for many days, he is numb to the stench.

But if we sell you our land, you must remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also receives the last sigh. And if we sell you our land, you must keep it apart and sacred as a place where even the white man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow’s flowers.

So we will consider your offer to buy our land. If we decide to accept, I will make one condition.

The white man must treat the beasts of this land as his brothers.

I am a savage and I do not understand any other way. I have seen a thousand rotting buffaloes on the prairie, left by the white man who shot them from a passing train. I am a savage and I do not understand how the smoking iron horse can be more important than the buffalo that we kill only to stay alive.

What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, man would die from a great loneliness of spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts soon happens to man. All things are connected.

You must teach your children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of our grandfathers. So that they will respect the land. Tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin. Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves.

This we know: The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth.
This we know: All things are connected like the blood which unites one family. All things are connected.

Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. Man did not weave the web of life: he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web he does to himself.

Even the white man, whose God walks and talks with him as friend to friend, cannot be exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers after all. We shall see.

One thing we know, which the white man may one day discover — our God is the same God. You may think now that you own Him as you wish to own our land; but you cannot. He is the God of man, and His compassion is equal for the red man and the white. This earth is precious to Him, and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its Creator.

The white too shall pass; perhaps sooner than all other tribes. Contaminate your bed and you will one night suffocate in your own waste.

But in your perishing you will shine brightly, fired by the strength of the God who brought you to this land and for some special purpose gave you dominion over this land and over the red man.

That destiny is a mystery to us, for we do not understand when the wild buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild horses are tamed, the secret corners of the forest heavy with scent of many men and the view of the ripe hills blotted by talking wires.

Where is the thicket? Gone.
Where is the eagle? Gone.
The end of living and the beginning of survival."

For more about Chief Seattle, click here

Image from: eaglewings.blog.ca/.../23/chief_seattle~2147461/

Turkey Travelogue: Cappadocia

At the end of our 2-week Turkey trip, we reached the beautiful central-Turkish area of Cappadocia. We took a late morning flight from Izmir to Nevsehir (more on Selcuk, Ephesus and Kusadasi later..). From Nevsehir we took a shuttle to Goreme which was about 80km away.

On the way we watched in amazement as the landscape changed from almost desert-flat to hilly and then finally to the famous fairy chimneys. They were like nothing I’d seen before. They were huge hollow rock-like huts made by volcanoes and wind erosion--ready-made rock witch's hat topped hollows that people could actually make their homes! I was amazed at their height. The fairy chimneys are Nature's own apartment buildings for hunter-gatherers!

The shuttle raced a hundred miles or so dropping people to other destinations before we reached our hotel which was called Anatolia Cave Pensions. The owner of our heritage cave palace was an ever-smiling man called Bekir Okur.

Our rooms were actually caves with entrances that we had to bend ourselves double to get into! This felt really strange--even more so, because our hotel room made of all modern amenities and comforts boasted of rocky, uneven walls and floors. The best thing about the cave room, however, was that it had natural air conditioning. The temperature outside was around 28-30 degrees, but in the room the temperature went down into the single digits and we had to use comforters. And all this without leaving a carbon imprint on the universe.

On our first day we visited the Goreme Open Air Museum. The Museum contains the finest rock-cut churches in the Cappadocia region with beautiful frescoes whose colours still retain their original freshness. The museum also has unique examples of rock hewn architecture. As everything else in Cappadocia, it was a memorable experience. The next day we went on a full day “green” tour which took us to Mustafapasa (an old Greek village in central Turkey), Cemil (a Greek-Orthodox Church), Kelsik Monastry, Soganli Valley (a 3km trek down a ravine and along a river-bank), Kaymakli Underground City and an Onyx Factory. All these places were exceptional and I enjoyed myself thoroughly, even though I was drained by the end of the day. My favorite places were of course the Underground City, the trek and the Kelsik Monastery.

The monastery was built in a chain of fairy chimneys. There weren’t any real steps, so we had to climb the whole way to the top. The journey was tiring, but when we got to the top, it was worth every sweat we broke. The view from the top was just breathtaking. The monastery was fascinating. There were intricate carvings on the rocks, which added to the beauty of the place.

The best part of the whole trip was the Underground City. Kaymakli Underground City is one of the many underground cities in Cappadocia, the biggest being Derinkuyu Underground City. These underground cities were originally built to hide from the attack of wild animals and hard winter conditions. Later though, the cities were enlarged to accommodate large numbers of Christians who were trying to escape persecution byRoman soldiers.

Kaymakli Underground City had 12 floors built underground, the first being a floor filled with stables. This was actually a very clever cover up since stables were generally built slightly underground in those days. Therefore, if any Roman happened to stumble across an opening to the city, all they would find was a stable, which was pretty normal. The underground city had everything ranging from a winery to a church to classrooms to a monastery and sleeping quarters.

They were well protected in the cities and could live underground for 6 months at a stretch. Endless, low and winding, maze-like tunnels went up and down the levels of the underground city. Sometimes, these tunnels would have rough steps hewn into them, sometimes not. Some of these tunnels were so tight and low that we had to almost crouch with our elbows and knees inwards and stay in that position as we crawled for minutes at a stretch. My old vertebrae were certainly not happy with me by the end of the tour!

Our last night in Cappadocia came too soon and to make it more special, we decided to go for the Turkish Night which was in a hotel in Ugrup, a half hour's drive from Goreme. The night began with a traditional, ritual ceremony by the famous Whirling Dervish. After that there were a number of native dances including a mock Turkish wedding with delicious all-we-could-eat-and-drink through the entire evening. The finale of the evening was an incredible belly-dancing performance. The night ended reluctantly with all of us dancing around a bonfire.
Turkey is an enchanting place filled with friendly and generous people and that made the trip even more enjoyable! My trip to Turkey has been one of the most memorable holidays of my life, and one I'll surely be writing more about in posts to come.

Text: Srishti Banerjee

Pictures: Arjan Banerjee