storied scents

..”Most of our childhood is stored not in photos, but in certain biscuits, lights of day, smells, textures of carpet.

-Alain de Botton

Memory of my late velumma’s (Grandmother) homemade cashew fry has me transported through time quicker than a jaunt to the moon! The memory of one aromatic bite and I’m the nine-year-old again, perched on a stool watching her work her magic over the woodfire stove in our old ancestral home in Varandarapilly in Kerala. The sizzle of the nuts in the ancient iron kadai, the wisps of sweet-smelling smoke swirling through the air – it ignites a nostalgia in me brighter than the orange kanikkonna flowers blooming outside.

Isn’t it funny how taste and smell can conjure entire scenes from the past, as vivid as the day they happened? Marcel Proust had his madeleines, I have my velumma’s cashew fry. I wonder what smells unlock the vault of memories hidden away in your mind?

For me, one whiff returns me to carefree days spent in my old ancestral home, climbing trees with my cousins, getting underfoot in the kitchen on aromatic biriyanis, sneaking extra kozhikodan haluvas when no one was looking. Those moments, rich with the spice-perfumed air and chatter of my extended family, are seared into my being like ingredients in those secret recipes lost in time.

The taste of hot, crispy cutlets and strong tea takes me back to trips into town with my Uppa and little brother. Walking hand-in-hand down dusty roads under the sweltering sun to our favorite spot – the Indian Coffee House. Crowding around a rickety table, sipping tea poured expertly from tall glass tumblers by the coffee house staff wearing their signature long white hats, and us devouring cutlets and laughing together. Those simple pleasures engraved on my heart forever.

So go ahead – take a bite, breathe it in, let the nostalgia wash over you like the monsoon rains. The photos may fade with time, but these memories are simmered into the essence of who we are. Each flavor tells a story that connects us to our roots. And isn’t that just comforting as velumma’s cashew fry? I know you also would have such memories to bring back. Write them to me if you have time.

home is not a place.

Home is not a place, but the memories we carry in our hearts, feelings and nostalgia we carry within us, the history that shapes us, and the love that connects us to those we have left behind.  No matter how far we travel, home remains alive within us through the flavors, sounds, and stories. | theborderofamind.com

Often, I get very nostalgic about memories for few days when I travel from home. On a patient wait at the airport baggage claim on my way back to Sharjah from Kerala, I watched the conveyor belt rotate endlessly, carrying countless suitcases filled with the cherished items and memories of faraway homes, bags, packed homemade snacks, shoes, clothes, perfumes. An elderly couple from Kerala stood nearby, returning to their work life in Sharjah after a visit back home. I imagined the contents of their bags: his favorite mundu that he’s worn for decades, folded delicately alongside fragrant bags of cardamom tea from a Munnar trip. Her collection of gold bangles and jasmine hair oil passed down from her grandmother, wrapped protectively to withstand the long journey. Jars of homemade mango and wild jackfruit pickle, transported from her sister’s kitchen, jars of mango achaar wrapped protectively, reminding them of carefree childhood days playing hide-and-seek in jackfruit orchards. The aromatic coconut oil for their long, silver hair, conjuring images of mother braiding it lovingly each morning before school. His favorite tea leaves, recalling late nights on the veranda discussing life’s challenges and joys with his father. The taste of piping hot appams and vegetable stew, the sounds of temple bells and bicycle horns, the feel of fresh air from open paddy fields, the smell of fresh coriander powder in a mill. They chatted softly in Malayalam, no doubt reminiscing about their time back home. I pictured the memories their visit must have kindled – long, laughter-filled conversations on the back porch, the smell of beef fry and parottas at a late night thattukada.

Home is not a place, but the memories we carry in our hearts, feelings and nostalgia we carry within us. Regardless of where our travels take us, we bring pieces of home along through the flavors, sensations, people and stories that shaped our younger days.  No matter how far we travel, home remains alive within us through them.

Tastes of home

Home within you

the fleeting dream

The Fleeting Dream : Original fne art from The Border Of a Mind

For a moment, assume you’re relaxing on the banks of a river on a beautiful spring day. Consider how a gentle wind cools and refreshes the air. Can you hear the gushing water? Can you notice the beautiful blossoms, each more beautiful than the last? Image yourself chatting to a beloved friend while admiring these beauty; imagine yourself inhaling the fresh perfume of the flowers in the air and listening to the pleasant singing of the birds. Imagine you are enjoying all of these feelings when you wake up and find yourself in bed (!). In such a circumstance, you would understand that all you thought was true was, in reality, a dream: a fabrication of your mind that abruptly evaded.
Let us now envision the identical circumstance after you have woken up. Assume you’re chatting to a close friend while taking in the views and sounds of a beautiful river.If you were asked, “which of the two would you prefer?” after having experienced both, you would of course say, “the one after I woke up.” The reason for this is that what happens in our dreams stays in our dreams and does not assist a person in real life. Nobody can really be sad for what he or she has lost in a dream since they know it has no bearing on actual life. No matter how much delight a person receives in a dream, it will never be as pleasurable as when he or she is awake and in the real world. Now, let’s question this “reality”.

In the same manner, this world’s existence is a dream, exceedingly brief and transient in comparison to an afterlife. What makes us so sure that we are currently not in a dream ? When you’re in a dream, you don’t realize that it’s a dream. The life of this world, which seems so real today, will soon come to an end, and your actual, everlasting existence will begin, similar to returning from the realm of the imagination to the real world upon waking from a dream. After our deaths, our “souls” would wake up from this “dream’ of “life”. This is an ultimate truth of this finite life of ours and it is truly magical.

The world is inside you.

Some of the other chapters from the Ponder Series that you can read on :

Perceiving Time
> Is it a dream ?
Ornate Blossoms
Visual Narrative – Ponder Series
Reflecting on Shadows
Stumble over Pebbles
Ethereal Quality | Petals
Golden Ratio
Vision – Pondering on the intricacies
Ruminating on Bird Nests
Living Embellishments
Pondering on Birds 
Perceptions

encrust

Encrust | Video

23 Apr 2022 – Time flies. It’s been one year. The little one who used to lie down with a smile on the craddle is now crawling and moving around. The year that passed has been one of trials and the little one really has been a hope, direction and solace for us. The clock of one year came about fast as we count the little milestones and look at awe on how he’s exploring the world around him. I fondly remember the day when I held him near the window and he was wrapped in a blanket sleeping most of the time and with ocassionaly priceless teethless smiles and glances and the lovely fossette on his cheeks when he smiles. So much development is packed into the last year as I write this. Ehan is now tinkering and exploring the details of the toys around at a much more deeper level now. He’s much more attentive towards the birds at the balcony. His little teeths are propping up. His little brain inside his fluffly hair is growing and his personality and emotions are slowly taking shape. With the will of God, as he grows up and blossom, and we celebrate each momentous milestone in awe and gratitude, this note would serve as a memory of my thoughts in this transitory phase. We love you, Ehan. Ever grateful to Almighty for all the blessings. Thank you Just Bakes by Parvathy Gosh for the beautiful artistic cake.

Encrust

momentous imprints

momentous Imprints | Video

This is a humble effort to chronicle an endeavor to freeze a part of the time, a moment to reflect later. The hands and feet of my son cast at a time when he does not think of the future and is in a carefree state of mind. This is a work of art to remind of this time when this innocence leaves him to be free to enjoy himself as few adults can and to remind about this beautiful time which existed before being caught up in the fret of future when most adults leave their childhood behind. As a father, I gaze awestruck at how curious he is and this memory in my mind of him picking toys and little things by his tiny hand and tinkering with it and exploring them is so deeply engraved in my memory that I desired some sort of material realization of this time which will pass soon in a blink of an eye as he grows up so fast. This work of art graciously reminds us of the transitory nature of phases of the life of this world. Of course, photographs, old toys and dresses would bring back memories, but there’s something special with the aspects and details in a cast. Thanks to Imprintz by Srushti for crafting it to perfection with lot of care and love put into it with a stellar attention to detail.

“Writing, music, sculpting, painting, and prayer! These are the five things that are most closely related! Writers, musicians, sculptors, painters, and the faithful are the ones who make things out of nothing. Everybody else, they make things out of something, they have materials! But a written work can be done with nothing, it can begin in the soul! A musical piece begins with a harmony in the soul, a sculpture begins with a formless, useless piece of rock chiseled and formed and molded into the thing that was first conceived in the sculptor's heart! A painting can be carried inside the mind for a lifetime, before ever being put onto paper or canvass! And a prayer! A prayer is a thought, a remembrance, a whisper, a communion, that is from the soul going to what cannot be seen, yet it can move mountains! And so I believe that these five things are interrelated, these five kinds of people are kin.”
― C. JoyBell C.

Memory Museums

This piece of art is inspired by a theme that I’ve always pondered on. The museum of our “minds”. Albeit it sounds poetic, each of us are museums of memories. The richness of thoughts in those museums doesn’t need dusting. Jan Mark puts it into paper quite brilliantly.

Memory is your museum, your cabinet of curiosities, your ‘Wunderkammer.’ It will never be full; there is always room for something new and strange and marvelous. It will never need dusting. It will last as long as you do. You can’t let the public in to walk around it, but you can take out the exhibits and share them, share what you know. You will never be able to stop collecting.”

― Jan Mark, The Museum Book: A Guide to Strange and Wonderful Collections

how your story begins

Tinkering edits with Pixlr. Not remembering where I photographed this from. Probably from Quilon, Kerala.

“Each day is born with a sunrise
and ends in a sunset, the same way we
open our eyes to see the light,
and close them to hear the dark.
You have no control over
how your story begins or ends.
But by now, you should know that
all things have an ending.
Every spark returns to darkness.
Every sound returns to silence.
And every flower returns to sleep
with the earth.
The journey of the sun
and moon is predictable
But yours,
is your ultimate
ART.”

― Suzy Kassem

organic eminence

Organic Eminence

Like me, you should also be remembering instances and encounters from your life where you were blown away by the quality or passion with which you’d find a person would work regardless of the field they’re into. It can be a CEO, a laundry guy, an engineer, a programmer, a person running a grocery, the person delivers food to you, a farmer, anyone! I’ve read somewhere that monetary income is a deceptive way of seeing a man’s true worth. I’m trying to share some of my short memories from over the years that’s pouring into my mind right now as I think about it. The one thing that I can tell you with certainty, at least on what I have seen is that when a person is truly passionate and enthusiastic about what he does or the service he delivers, he or she wouldn’t be overly money minded. Of course, everybody would require money for their needs. But you get what I mean, it’s that their prime intention is to deliver excellence in what they do or giving the best service and the monetary aspect is secondary. There’s a tremendous difference if the primary intention is monetary benefits as opposed to “being best”, “delivering excellence’ etc.

I very distinctively remember an online cab driver who came to drop me and Netta at the bus station on our journey from Chennai to Pondichery. He was a very old man, and when we spoke to him, we learned that he has retired from his primary work and is working as a cab driver. We fondly remember his politeness and the way he served us during that short ride. When we were about to reach the bus station, for our convenience, we asked him whether he could do a Uturn and drop on the other side of the road. His response with a cheerful grin was ” Of course, This is your car ” That left a smile on my face. See how he made us happy with his service.

The guy from the laundry service that I rely on during our stay in Sharjah is a very smart young man Uttam from Nepal. He is very good at what he does, is very well mannered and leaves us happy.

Similarly, since I’ve been living in the same town in Sharjah for almost a decade now, I have been almost visiting the same salon for many years now. My favorite one among the barbers there is a guy named Sulayman, who absolutely loves what he does. Unlike some other barbers who’re in a hurry with no focus or attention on what they do, Sulayman does it slowly ensuring perfection on the cuts and I always leave the place with a smile.

To the point that I’ve been speaking of, all of us can make our best efforts to do what the best in whatever we engage in. It uplifts us and would fill us with fulfillment. Not everyone in this world is blessed to be in a job that they’re in love with. But even then, with a positive frame of mind, we can align it as an opportunity of learning and excelling in what we do. The quality of what we do, even if we don’t try to show it off or advertise it, would be perceived. The reason I quoted some examples from my life is that I find it almost very universal that it’ll be a pleasure to be around with people ingrained with such a frame of mind. As we might have read, when we try to chase the world, it goes away, and if we despise it, the world would be behind us. From what I’ve read, it would take a lifetime of experiences to convince us of this truth and it’s tough to remember it when we are going through tough times.

As Oprah Winfrey famously said, “Let excellence be your brand… When you are excellent, you become unforgettable. Doing the right thing, even when nobody knows you’re doing the right thing will always bring the right thing to you.”

appendage

Some of my previous essays that I’d like to put in here:
Quality | indelible objectivity
Small Business – Lines of thought

the poem you want to be.

From the streets of Armenia

“You read and write and sing and experience, thinking that one day these things will build the character you admire to live as. You love and lose and bleed best you can, to the extreme, hoping that one day the world will read you like the poem you want to be.”

― Charlotte Eriksson

memories pieced together

Memories are more like pieced-together pictures than accurate snapshots. … The brain generally remembers the gist of what happens, then fills in the rest—sometimes inaccurately

Did you know that memories that we have are often like piece-together-pictures than accurate photographic information? In the same token, recalling a skill requires you to return to the state of mind or environment in which it was originally acquired.

Memory is more like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle than a photograph. To recollect a past event, we piece together various remembered elements and typically forget parts of what happened (the color of the wall, the picture in the background, the exact words that were said). Passing over details helps us to form general concepts. We are good at remembering the gist of what happened and less good at remembering (photographically) all the elements of a past scene. This is advantageous because what is important for memory is the meaning of what was presented, not the exact details present at any given time.

” Is photographic memory real? If so, how does it work? ” by Professor Larry Squire