Simple things in life

There is a beauty that comes from simple living. Somthing I relish when I come to my mothers family home in India. The strive that is brought about by the relentless Mosquitoes. My solution is a simple pop up mini tent made of fine mesh. In this myself, wife and child find respite.Now the trick is to make sure everything you need during night is inside the tent with you. Water, flash light, alarm clock, nappies and anything you will need. In our case this includes some toys for baby. She often wakes and yanks on my beard to play at
05:00

What now?

Two months in India, with one week from that spent in my mothers village. I loved it. That one week was amazing.

My day would start about 45min before sunrise with a cacophony of azaans (call to prayer) around 06:00 I can't remember exact times. I'd go to the masjid (2min walk) and after fajr prayer I'd come back to the family bungalow. Where my aunty would be reading Quraan on the porch.

She'd then rustle up a two egg omelette and some roti. These were eggs from chickens which roam the yard around the bungalow. Free range is an understatement.

During breakfast my aunty would talk to me and update me who I need to visit in the village that day. It'd been 12 years since I was last here.

And while village life in Gujarate is drastically changed. Some things are are they were when I was a snot nosed youth running feral with the local kids playing add on huge trees.

People smiled, everyone you said salaam to responded with a smile. Old folk who recognised me now at the age of 30 who had last seen me when I was around 12. They still have love for you in the village. Well the old timers anyway.

I returned from that peace, to a whirlwind of weddings (My sister), and a new job which is no walk in the park.

My Diploma in permaculture, well I'm so behind it'll be impossible to be on track with the rest of the group. I'm pretty sure I'll need to complete and document the projects completely independently.

As the days become shorter in the Land of Eng, my mojo is dieing.

I need to just sit down with a huge piece of paper and mind map my thoughts for now.

Maybe a picture to follow

Tea & Biscuits on an Indian Train

On route to my mum's birth village in Gujarate. Traveling in the only true way there is to travel in India, via train.
The tea man (Chai wala) has been driving me nuts with his chorus of 'chaiiiii' every ten minutes. Finally I give in. 5 rupees is about 7 pence UK monies. But you only get 150ml.

Then when the tea is done the biscuit guy walks by. So now I'm waiting on the Chai wala again...

Wanting what you got

So I'm rushing to Jumma (Friday Prayer) and a meek polite man stops me and makes salaam. I reply and he asks where the nearest Masjid is. I inform tell him to follow, he looks at his watch. Turns out he has an interview at 14:00 and wondering if he can get Jumma and make the interview on time.

I wait, let him make his own mind up on this one. He tells me to walk on, and follows. I also need to be back before 14:00 as I have to teach an IT lesson. And on route I ask him a few questions.

He's from India, just completed his Masters in Business Finance and today will be attending an interview for security work at the way in from Hounslow. I did feel for him. so soon as Imam said salaams for the two rakaat, we where off and walking fast back to Stratford Broadway. I pointed him in the right direction when I got to my office, and he had 12 minutes to left to make an 10 minute journey.

I wish him all the best and we parted with Salam. Allah bless this man, as in his shoes I'd most likely skipped Jummah and prayed Dhur on my own.

I do feel for economic immigrants that I come across, the pressures they must be under, the hopes their families back in their homeland have. Then to be in effect be treated as a second class citizen when they out gun their transgressors in academic terms on a ridicules level. Then there's the alienation, lack of and family or friends when first getting to U.K.

Some might argue why come, why not go back? not easy, like I mentioned their family have high hopes. If they could get a well paid job where they came from. They'd not have left.

Then the irony, of a thought / comedy type sketch in my mind of me standing in Stratford Westfield, born and bread east London dreaming of a self sufficient small scale farm in a rural area of say India. Then there's scene change and a Indian small scale farmer dreaming of being in a Westfield type environment.

It's not about getting what you want, it's about wanting what you have got.