From a hospital bed…

And then there was Su Yin.

I never saw her full face. I could only see the eyes and the penciled eyebrows etched above a mask that hid the lower part of her face as her straight thick hair swung while she swept and vigorously mopped the floor. One day she did take off her mask. A pretty young face with pale pink lips perhaps colored artificially, a cheerful face that greets me each morning wishing me good health and offering me a purple orchid as I grapple with post-operative pain.

Su Yin is from Myanmar as are May and My Shine. May and My Shine are nurses. The names are like twittering birds and bring to my mind what I imagine Myanmar would be… green and yellow fields and muddy lanes below the vibrant blue skies. There must be so much sunshine there, enough to light up the whole wide world; only if the Rohingyas did not cry in pain, this time not post operative but of losing their homes and lands again and again.

I always imagine that the rivers in Myanmar will be thick and yellow because once, long before I started flitting in and out of hospitals, I went for a ride along the River Kwai (Mae Klong river) in Kanchenburi, Thailand. The river there ran thick and yellow. The boatman told us that on the other bank of the river was Burma… I like to dream of the people of the two countries meeting and greeting along the river as they do in the wards of Singapore.

There are nurses and caregivers from different countries in Asia, helping heal patients from all over the world. What a multi-cultural exchange it is when a young nurse from Phillipines takes my blog details and discusses Harry Potter with me, or a Malaysian nurse chats with me about travel in India or an Indian one, newly arrived out of her country, takes down the details of the shop selling goat meat in the local Tekka market. I even heard a strange retelling of the Rohingya crisis!

Then there are young girls who cheer one up by their sunshiny smiles and call the older nurses ‘ ate’ (elder sister in Tagalog), exuding a charm of old world courtesy and graciousness in an age where children have started to address their parents by first name, a thing that always bothers me. Some of the ates are so gracious, friendly and yet professional. Each time, you achieve a small target, they make you feel like you have won a Nobel Prize and urge you to take the next step towards total healing. There are some who you feel could have been a friend, especially the ones who are moms and have children in teens and twenties. There is so much you find in common and not in common, things you can talk about. Just having this friendly and optimistic atmosphere around helps lift ones spirits and take one towards feeling well and whole again.

The most important thing is that these women, these unsung heroines, did for me what I would not trust anyone to do and, most of the time, with a smile! They sponge, shower, change and give you endless care, without making you feel belittled, till you are able to totter on your own legs and walk back home. The lady from the pantry found ways of appeasing my appetite when mashed and pureed food were my sole diet! Each day, she found a way that I could eat. And that was definitely a challenge!

The biggest thing I noticed was the cheerful optimism that exuded from the women on a daily basis. As I stepped out of my drowsy stupor and started experiencing extreme pain and, subsequently, lesser pain, I had a word of encouragement from each of these ladies till I was ready to walk out of the hospital.

Sometimes, I wonder what drives these women to their profession, often in a distant land, away from their homes and families? They do for absolute strangers what the patients would not trust their own families to do for them. Could it be only money? I think not and, yet, there is a phobia about foreigners worldwide now!

In the wards of the hospital, you find patients and nurses of varied nationalities and faith, including upbeat, optimistic local Singaporean nurses, weaving an ambience of friendship and harmony to heal the patients back to health.

Perhaps, those who build walls between humans could take a page of these ladies’ book and try to see the world in a more global perspective. There is a world beyond making wealth. There is a world of hope, happiness, twittering birds (not tweets and oil and coal), a world in harmony, where as humans we help each other live.

 

 

Book of the Week

 

Title: Rip Van Winkle and other stories
Author: Washington Irving

First published in 1819, Rip Van Winkle is a story about a man who fell asleep for many years and woke up to find the world had changed. The other stories in this collection, like the title story, are characterised by a tongue-in-cheek humour and a touch of the macabre. They are all stories of migrants from different cultures to a land that gave them a new home.

Rip Van Winkle is a story of a man who helped everyone except himself. To avoid his wife’s haranguing, he escaped to the Catskill mountains (New York), fell asleep under the effect of some moonshine made by Dutch faerie folk playing ninepins (bowling)and woke up after a couple of decades to find a changed world, where his wife had died, his son had replaced him as the village lounger and the American war of independence had been fought. He finds shelter in his married daughter’s home.

The Legend of the Sleepy Hollow is the story of Ichabod Crane, the tall, lanky crane-like village school master, with a strong belief in the supernatural. He disappears in the Sleepy Hollow while returning home from a party where his proposal had been rejected by his sweetheart. The New England village folk believed that he has been killed by the headless horseman who is supposed to haunt that area. The horseman, who carried his own head under his arm , threw it at the school teacher. The next day they find a broken pumpkin where Crane had disappeared with all his effects. In the epilogue, the author says Crane’s rival married his sweetheart and could not help smiling everytime anyone spoke of Crane. A suggestion has also been made that Crane left the village and became a lawyer!

The Spectre Bridegroom is set in Germany where a bridegroom is killed on the way to his wedding. His friend, who tries to tell the bride’s party of his friend’s death, is mistaken for a ghost of his friend! It is a comedy of errors and the friend carries away the bride at the end.

The Pride of the Village is story set in a small English village, the story of a girl disappointed in love. Like in Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Ubervilles, the affair starts with the girl being the may queen. She does not suffer as much as Tess. When she is dying is the arms of her parents, her loved one comes back to her.

The last story, Mountjoy, seems to be a comment on private education where learning is unmonitored and sometimes aimless. This is again set in New England and talks of a family that lived in France. Though three of the five stories are set in America, by the banks of the Hudson river, the current day New York, they capture the hope of the multi-cultural migrant community that created a new world in America.

I found the first three stories very gripping. It reminded me of some of Roald Dahl’s stories in a collection called Kiss Kiss, only the horror is less horrific. The stories have a macabre humour and a tongue in cheek suggestion in the epilogue to rationalise the legends.

Irving’s description of the characters are sketched with few words and incidents which leave a strong imprint in ones mind. His characterisation of Crane with his lanky appearance, green eyes, belief in ghosts and spirits and fondness of food and women’s company is very realistic as are his other characters. You can almost hear his thin voice and laugh at his housewifish outlook. He wants to propose to a girl not only over her own worth but on the worth of her father who has a prosperous farm and a good spread at the table.

The flavour of the times are well captured by Irving. When Rip returns to his village, he is still a loyal subject of the King of England but the people he encounters have lived through the American revolution! Rip changes his world view to suit the needs of the times as he had never had strong political affiliations and lives out his life as a well-loved legendary figure.

Irving has woven Red Indian lore into his stories too to add authenticity to his legends. Catskill mountain. Historically, Catskill mountain was named after either Dutch or Mohican traditions or persons. It is not very clear. Irving has played with these legends to create a misty aura around the story. There is a statue of Rip Van Winkle in a park in New York. Irving did create a legend!

These are stories about common people anywhere in the world. You can see multicultural values built into these legends. They absorbed traditions of cross-continental cultures and created a new myth from them. That many Americans, unless they were native Indians, emigrated with their own cultures to find acceptance in the wilds of America is borne out by the multi-cultural flavour of the legends created by Irving.

I enjoyed these stories very much and would say they make an excellent weekend read with their one world outlook. After all, they have created new legends.

The Creators

7

“What was that?!” exclaimed Jamie.

“I think we have hit the tabletop of a plateau,” said Jasmine.

“What plateau?” asked Gorge.

“Let us get down,” said Jasmine.

As they descended from the cloud to the plateau, they could see a steep mountain towering behind them. It had stalactite like growths. The ground was rocky, multi-colored, purple, green and gold. The sky above them was dyed a reddish gold with the rays of the setting sun. At a distance, the sea stretched out reflecting the colors of the sky. They could see a small black boat on the sea. Below was a lush green forest. It was beautiful.

They all stretched and Jamie sighed with relief. The group started looking around. They moved towards the ledges of the tabletop. JaJa was jumping. Jamie lingered behind the others and looked vary.

“How peaceful and lovely,” said Jolyn.

“We are at the portals of magicland,” said Jasmine.

Suddenly, Jamie, who was standing apart shouted, “Help!”He had been captured by a masked man who was holding him at gunpoint.There were about six masked figures surrounding the group. Each was pointing a gun at them and dressed like ninja soldiers in black.

Jasmine’s group stood frozen. Jamie was struggling and grunting.

“How dare you enter the domain of Dr Doom without permission!” boomed a loud fierce voice.

JaJa ran to Jasmine for shelter. She was beginning to whimper with fear.

A few more masked men popped out from behind the rocks. As the situation grew more desperate and the others cowered behind Gorge and Jasmine, another floating cloud came to rest near them. About twenty men in pale blue uniforms stepped out. They were holding weapons too but of a different kind. At the back of their shirts were written MIND POLICE in bold black.

“ Hand them over to us now,” said the leader of the group.

“ No,” said the person who seemed to be the chief of the masked bandits. “You need to meet Dr Doom first and settle the payments. None of your mind weapons will work here nor your tranquillizing gun or exterminator. This area has spells to immobilise all weapons except the ones made by us.”

“Our chief will come and settle that in a short while. Meanwhile, hand over the captives.”

“No,” came the sharp response.

The mind police tried shooting the tranquillizer and  realized the weapons were truly non-functional. One of the police ran towards one of Dr Doom’s crew and a tussle between the two ensued. Another of Dr Doom’s men shot a mind police member. He fell injured. The tussle grew more violent. The man holding Jamie turned to defend himself.

Jamie stumbled out of his grasp and ran to his own group.

Jasmine said, “Follow me. I know this terrain.”

The others ran with her while the two teams of captors struggled with each other. They slipped into a narrow crevice. A long passage lay ahead. Suddenly, they heard a shot and voices shouting, “The captives have fled.”

Jasmine put her fingers to her mouth,“ Shhh!” She motioned them to follow her. They all filed down a narrow passage and came to a part where the tunnel forked into four paths. The voices had receded but they could hear the search was on. They took the tunnel that seemed to have lain unused for sometime. It had delicate spiders’ webs all over. They ran down the narrow passage till they came to a red and gold door. They could hear voices in the tunnel now. They pushed the door. It opened. Inside was a huge red and gold serpent like dragon with gold wings. It breathed fire on seeing them.

The group moved to the farthest end away from the dragon, taking care to close the door behind them. They were terrified. And then, the dragon started to talk!

“And where do you think you are going?” asked the dragon in a sibilant whisper. “Do you not know I roast humans and have them for dinner if they infringe on my territory?”

Jasmine whispered back, “Please save us. We are running away from Dr Doom’s men and the mind police. They both want to capture us.”

“If you are Dr Doom’s enemies, I am your friend but it had better be the truth,” said the dragon.

There were voices drawing closer. Jasmine folded her hands in prayer and mouthed, “ Please.”

The dragon nodded his head and motioned them to hide behind him.

As the group crouched behind his huge body, they heard voices. “If they were stupid enough to enter the dragon’s lair, they are roast meat by now.”

Another said, “Are you sure?”

“No one has emerged alive from the dragon’s door ever. Why should they? Still if you are apprehensive, let us set guard against them at the fork in the tunnel and at the mouth of the crevice.”

“That sounds good,” replied the first voice. “ Our counsellors will be furious if we do not capture or kill Jasmine and erase the other’s memories or destroy them as well.”

Then the footsteps and voices faded and all grew quiet outside.

“So you are really hunted down,” said the dragon. “ You can shelter here till you find help.”

“ Thanks,” said Jasmine. “ You are very kind.”

“ I used to be a good prince, long ago, till Dr Doom turned me into this. My magic prevented him from killing me. It is rare anyone calls me kind. Most just fear me.”

“This sounds like out of a fairy story,” said Jacinth.

“So, who said fairy stories can’t be real?” asked the dragon. “In magicland anything is possible.”

“I am coming to believe anything is possible anywhere,” said Gorge.

“I still find the whole situation strange and unreal. I keep thinking I will wake up from a strange dream,” said Jamie. “ I am scared. I never wanted to be a part of an adventure.”

“But you are and there is nothing you can do. You cannot escape back to your own dimension either,” said Gorge.

Jamie did not look happy. He looked resigned and troubled.

“Are you all hungry?” asked the dragon.

The group nodded.

“Here!” Said the dragon with a swish of his tail. A table laden with burgers, chicken legs, cakes, candies, water and milk appeared out of nowhere. They feasted on the food. JaJa who felt rejuvenated after gorging on candy started to sing. Jasmine silenced her. Everyone was tired.

“Beds for you!” said the dragon with another swish of his tail, the lair grew in size and rooms with beds and attached washrooms appeared from nowhere. They all thanked the dragon profusely, washed and rinsed and turned in for the night.

The next morning, they woke to the twittering of birds. The cave seemed to have expanded into a huge home under a vibrant blue sky of it’s own. The dragon had worked his magic and created a mini-world for them.

The little group assembled in what seemed to be the garden, where the dragon sat guard.

“This is unusual magic indeed,” said Jasmine.

“I could do more in my hey days. I was the prince of magicland. Dr Doom was my court inventor. I liked him to make things for the benefit of mankind. But, somehow, he got attracted to black magic. I did not approve of his fascination for the black magic. He wanted power and wealth of unreasonable proportions. He also wanted to marry my sister, the princess Keiya. I was against the match. One day, he tricked me unawares. He told me that he wanted me to check out one of his gadgets, a spellbinder, a  gadget that would hold any creature bound in it’s spell for all times. When I entered it, he pulled a lever and I was trapped in this dragon’s body in this part of the mountain. He had cast a spell on me. Then he passed me off as an evil dragon who had swallowed up the prince and he trapped me in this liar.  He took away my kingdom, my sister. My family and subjects believed him. He painted himself a hero and everyone believed him. My sister even married him. As he became more entrenched in black magic, he exposed himself. He wreaked havoc till the others rebelled against his oppression and wicked ways. The good magicians combined forces till he was ejected from his throne and entrapped in these mountains. But he still tries to rule from here, I know,”concluded the dragon with a sigh.

“Oh God! I got carried away telling my story. You all must  be hungry. Let’s have some breakfast!” added the dragon prince. Again the magic table with plenty for everybody appeared. They all had breakfast.

Then Jasmine asked, “Your highness, can we help you in some way?”

“You all are running away from Doom yourselves. How can you help?”

“Perhaps, we will find a way… Let’s see. But, right now, I need to get in touch with Jacaranda,” said Jasmine.

“Why do you think of others here? Please do not leave. Stay here. I will create a wonderful world for all of us with my magic,” replied the dragon.

“Jacaranda could be in mortal danger as could my other selves be in different dimensions. The mind police want to destroy all of us because I wanted to create a multi-dimensional world. I am from the creators’ dimension and the counsellors are angry with me. They want to kill me and destroy my other selves as they see me as a rebel for not conforming to boundaries of dimensions created by them. Please help us. Help me get in touch with Jacaranda while the others stay here with you. This could be our safe house. What do you all think?” asked Jasmine turning to the others in the group.

“Might be a good idea,” said Gorge. “But I would like to help more if I can.”

“Sounds like a gilded cage to me,”said Jacinth . “But do we have a choice?”

“If the dragon helps us and does not hurt us and gives us good food, I do not care,” said Jamie.

“I have been so lonely that I would love to be understood and have company,” said the dragon. “But I need sometime to think how to get in touch with Jacaranda. I have to meditate on thought waves.”

And he fell into a quite slumber…

“Should we make a run for it while he sleeps?” whispered Jacinth to Jasmine.

“I do not think so. We should really stick with him. He seems to be a good and kind creature,” said Jasmine.

Jacinth acquiesced, looking a bit uncomfortable. She sat down on the grass,took out a little diary and began to scribble .

All this while, JaJa had been jumping with delight and chasing a butterfly from flower to flower in the beautiful garden of the palace.

Jamie shrugged,lay down on the grass at a little distance and dozed off again. Gorge and Jolyn went off by themselves to explore the garden further. Jasmine sat patiently by the dragon and waited. She gazed at a gnarled tree with hollows that made it look like a human face.

 

The Creators

3

The bubbleverse was of a strange material, supple yet very strong. It felt steady inside the bubble, just as if they were still in Jacinth’s world in some beautiful resort. The ground was covered with bright green grass. The foliage was lush and gave way to the sea, which was a deep purple in color. There were bubbly-looking, multi-coloured flowers on the plants. Some of them looked like they had trapped the colours of the rainbow. Jacinth, Jasmine and JaJa could hear distant voices conversing in English.

The voices drew closer. Jacinth, Jasmine and JaJa hid in nearby bushes. Soon, they saw two ‘persons’ pass by. They were laughing and had pinkish skins and bubbles instead of hair. But, the bubbles seem to be solid. One had yellow bubbles and the other, turquoise.

“Wow!” said Jacinth.

“Sh…” whispered Jasmine with fingers to her lips. “I do not know how they will react to our appearance as they have no concept of a multiverse. So, pipe down.”

“ Then how will we find the person you are looking for?” said Jacinth.

JaJa was sitting quietly and looking around. She seemed a little intimidated by the surroundings.

“Let the local inhabitants go off. Then we will talk,” said Jasmine. “For heaven’s sake let us stay quiet now.”

It was a lonely beach by all standards. Everything seemed the same, except for the foliage, which had far more vibrant colours.

As the voices faded away, there was silence. Only the lap of waves and strange birdcalls interrupted the quiet. Jasmine looked at Jacinth and JaJa.  Jasmine ran out warily and checked the surroundings. Then she said: “I think it is safe to talk now.” Promptly JaJa started muttering in her language. Jasmine turned to her and she seemed to soothe down.

Jacinth asked, “ So, how do you calm her?”

“I use thought waves to communicate with you and JaJa. So, I do not need words. I only use them with you while talking because you are not used to using telepathy. But coming to your older question, Jolyn, our bubbleverse self, has been getting dreams similar to yours. I have been projecting ideas into her head. I am expecting her to come to the beach tonight. I have projected the thought of gazing at their moon and writing poetry. Here the moon seems to have some amount of distortion as the light passes through the membrane of the bubble. You will also notice that the plants are more lush and the pigmentation of the local inhabitants is lesser as the harmful parts of solar radiation get filtered out by the surface of the bubble.”

“That’s interesting!” said Jacinth. JaJa seemed to be listening with understanding too.

She asked something strange to Jasmine pointing at her mouth. Jasmine replied, “We can find food in the woods and I have chocolate and candy in my backpack for you.” She delved into her bag and dug out some chocolates for JaJa. JaJa hummed with happiness and started drooling and singing in anticipation of the treat. While she unwrapped the candy, Jasmine continued, “I have pinged ourselves to a lonely beach because it is difficult to merge here with the local population. Hopefully, no one else will come here this evening.”

“The bubbleverse was an ecological experiment by the creators to see if we could survive inside an artificially created bubble. The surface has enough pores to let in natural air. In a way, the experiment succeeded but created a different biological species from us and our plant and animal kingdom because the light and air were both filtered through the membrane of the bubble. The bubbleverse was a reaction against pollution in some of the other dimensions. They have no large-scale industries here and no countries. The total population is about ten thousand. Most live up to the age of hundred and twenty!”

JaJa again seemed to be listening. Jasmine was surprised, “Does she understand you?”

“I am projecting my thoughts telepathically to her as I communicate with you,” said Jasmine.

“Can you communicate with me telepathically too?” Asked Jacinth.

“ I should be able to if you keep your mind open.”

“What exactly do you mean by keeping ones mind open?”

“Well, you need to believe in your heart you can communicate through telepathy. See, the belief comes easily to a primitive like JaJa as she has lesser of preconceived notions. But to you, conditioned by education, a sense of limitations sets in … though I must say you have a smaller sense of limitations or preconceived notions than most other humans.”

“Then, will I be able to ever communicate telepathically?”

“Why not? It is after all only a conditioning of the mind. Just try to catch others’ thoughts… Perhaps you can start with JaJa. Try to understand her thoughts whenever she mutters something.”

“That’s a great idea. I love the idea of stretching my mind to different dimensions!” exclaimed Jacinth.

“That is what the creators do. I believe most creatures can do that if rocks and plants can harmonise their thoughts in the creative dimensions. We can empathise and communicate with each other but still maintain our privacy. I want to prove to the creators that such an existence is more desirable than having ones thoughts read by everyone all the time. Blocking should come naturally too. So, instead of talking you can project your thoughts to the person you want to communicate with however far the person is.”

“Unfortunately, the creators do not like my idea of sharing telepathic communication with other dimensions and of privacy of an individual. I want to be able to live in harmony beyond the borders of dimensions. I believe in it. That is why I am gathering all of ourselves together because each one of us will hopefully have a stronger ability to stretch the mind than others of the species each one belongs to. JaJa and you do.”

“Wow! Fascinating! By the way, how much longer do we need to wait for our bubbleverse self?” asked Jacinth.

“We have to wait for the moon to be up. We can eat now,” answered Jasmine.

“What do we eat?” Asked Jacinth.

“We can eat some of the fruits from these trees. They are quite filling,” said Jasmine.

Jasmine and Jacinth plucked some huge pink and yellow fruit that tasted like banana, pineapple and strawberry rolled into one.

The sky was turning orange. Soon it would be dark. The girls waited in the bushes to be safe. No one came. Soon the moon rose. It looked pale blue with mysterious shadows around it. The stars were even more blurred. You could barely see them. The waves sloshed on the beach. The strange bird calls had stopped. It was eerily silent except for the sounds from the sea. The three girls sat huddled behind some bushes. Suddenly, they sat up. They could hear a strange sound. They peeped out of their hiding and saw distant figures of a girl and a boy. There was a jingling sound as they walked.

Could it be Jolyn? Who was the other person with her? Jasmine had asked her to come alone….