Thursday, May 20, 2010

sensual senses

As we meandered through the by lanes of Indra Nagar, contemplating the gorgeous rain swept streets our conversations meandered along with the lanes. M had been reading a book called the Science of Senses, and I was overwhelmed by the Museum of Innocence by Omar Pamuk. 

The latter is a book set in Turkey, broadly speaking about a man who falls in love with a 18 year old when he is 30 and at first treats it as a fling, to be forgotten as he gets engaged to his more appropriately positioned sweet heart who was to be his wife. The book was set in 1960's where the virginity of a women was only to be traded for a wedding ring and nothing else. 

Anyway, the 18 year old and he have a love that is bone marrow filling, cruises through the viens makes him mad, so much so that when she ups and leaves without a trace he cannot function. He ends up cancelling his engagement, effectively destroying his fiancee's reputation and then hunts the girl down. Only she is now married. and he of course happens to be her uncle, so under the pretense of being a benefactor, he visits her house and becomes a part of the family for 8 years!!!!!!!!

To make it even more surreal, through out this time, the two of them dont exchange a single meaningful real conversation, all the hidden undercurrents are only shared by looks and reading expressions of each other. Eight years of being around, literally so close yet so far makes him want her more not less ... and in the interim he begins to steal/take little things that she holds and touches to get a sense of proximity he is otherwise denied

As I read the book, i felt immense frustration, a deep desire to slap the man and the women and a reluctant respect for this level of intensity, patience and conviction. For someone who is very direct in conversations, eight years of guess work and reading between lines seemed a waste of time, yet the book had me hooked, i could not put it down

Shall not ruin the ending of the book, but the last line said, let the reader not assume that i was an unhappy man but rather i was one who was immensely happy in spending time just being around her. Pure love? Pure exasperation i dont know. 

M is someone like that, he can pause and slow his world down where things are not rushing him by but he is intensely savouring each moment, with concentration. The simplest things get him shell shocked. there was once a time when he ate a gol-gappa/panipuri/puchka with me on the road, and his eyes became as large as saucers...... REASON.. the confluences of taste of the water was ravishing his mouth

speaking of Ravashing, did u know that lavender as a smell enters ur nostrils makes u incapable of smelling anything for 2-3 minutes, cleans out ur nose and then lets the others smells come in.. so u smell a lot more in instants. or that Chinese believe that the number 4 is symbolic of death and hence buildings have no 4th floor, or if they do its the cheapest real estate??? The cultural quirks that make a city.. 

In yoga school, meal times required us all to be served, wait till we chanted, then thanked the lord and only then eat. This ensured that the instant gobbling that one wanted to do, was curtailed to slowly appreciating the actual food. And CHEWING. the more u chew the less u eat...

There is so much that is happening in moments that its a shame not to notice
unrelated- i HATE packing, i LOVE holidays