Poornima Manco

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life

The bane of body shaming

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“You’ve gained weight,no?”

A cousin of my husband’s stated this gleefully, looking at me for agreement. She wanted me to say yes and look ashamed, as I had done many times before in the years gone by.

You see, I have had a peculiar relationship with my body. I have gained and lost weight multiple times in the course of my forty odd years on this planet. Each time I’ve lost weight, I’ve felt wonderful, as though I’ve conquered Mount Everest. Each time I’ve gained weight, I’ve beaten myself up internally, seeing it as a failure at the most basic level – my inability to overcome my appetite, my greed, my love of food. So, it is no wonder that people looking for my Achilles heel have zeroed in on this and hoped that a snide comment or a ‘concerned’ suggestion might trigger the reaction they are looking for.

My relationship with food and my body go back a long, long way to my childhood. My mother was, for a period of time, severely obese, triggering that corrosive disease, diabetes, in her. Consequently, she drummed it into my head that being overweight was a state to be avoided at all cost, if I wanted to stay healthy and disease free. Her suffering became my cautionary tale.

My entry into aviation was another reason to stay trim. After all, in the glamorous world of flying, who wanted to see a fat flight attendant? Vanity and a fear of ill health have, more or less, kept me within my ideal weight range. But it hasn’t been without its share of pitfalls and heartburn.

I am not naturally a slim person. My Malayali genes along with my Punjabi appetite is a lethal combination when it comes to maintaining my figure. I wax and I wane, pretty much like the moon of my name (Poornima means a ‘full moon night’).

Lately, I have been waxing more. Whether that is because I am heading towards peri-menopause, or whether that’s because I honestly can’t be bothered to put in the effort into dieting and exercise, I don’t know. What I DO know is that it’s nobody’s business what size I am.

I said as much to this ‘well-meaning’ sister-in-law. As you can imagine, that went down like a lead balloon. Instead of being fat shamed, I had responded by saying that people’s opinions on my body bothered me not a jot! Even as she stuttered and stammered, I felt liberated.

At long last I was in a place where even if I wasn’t the slimmest person in the room, I was happy and comfortable in my skin.

My body, this wonderful body, that has taken me through life, given me two babies and stayed healthy despite the deprivation and abuse I’ve subjected it to, isn’t my foe. It needs love and nurturing, and regardless of what anyone else might think of it, I will give it just that.

All routes (should) lead to love

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What an incredible weekend I have just had! My first ever Pride parade and attendance at the Attitude Pride awards. It has been illuminating, educational, poignant and exhilarating.

My first contact with a gay person was at the age of twenty. Trinny was charming, funny and ever so handsome. He was also clearly not interested in women. Having just finished an English literature degree, I had a hazy sense of what homosexuality meant because of the multiple references in the various texts I had studied, but this was the first time I was encountering a homosexual in person. Luckily, having been brought up in a very liberal environment in India, this did not faze me in the slightest. Trinny and I struck up an instant friendship. He brought to the table something my other straight male friends never had – an irreverence, a crazy sense of humour and a complete lack of toxic masculinity. Of course, at the time I wouldn’t have been able to describe it in those terms. All I knew was that I felt completely safe with him and we had a blast together.

Time, circumstances and life moved us apart, but I never forgot my first encounter with a gay person. This was to colour all my future interactions. There was always an immediate sense of kinship and safety, and I relished the cutting sense of humour I inevitably came across. Over the years, I have had many, many gay friends and I consider myself privileged that they have embraced me and accepted me into their fold.

Therefore, it is heart rending to note that even today, in so many parts of the world, they are not accepted. Lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender are just labels. We are all living, breathing human beings underneath all of that. Yet, they are discriminated against, criminalised and marginalised in so many ways, big and small.

At the Attitude Pride awards, each of the winners had intensely moving stories to tell. From losing a lesbian partner to a stray bullet, to being sexually attacked as a man by another man, to having to suffer abuse while playacting as a woman in a gay marriage, to fighting to decriminalise an archaic law against homosexuality in India, each story was powerful and disturbing. Yet, in hugely difficult circumstances, they had overcome all sorts of obstacles and in proudly accepting who they were and what they stood for, forced the world, to not just recognise, but also to reward them for their efforts. I was alternately moved to tears, while cheering them on from the sidelines.

We are who we are. None of us choose our sexuality. It is built into our DNA. So why do we view with contempt those that are different from us? Look at the multiple colours that Nature grants to the world. Doesn’t that make for an exciting and varied life experience for all of us? Imagine if every landscape was the same, if there were only two colours to choose from and if everyday was a repeat of the one before? Wouldn’t we just die of boredom?

The LGBT people amongst us are all the colours of the rainbow. They are what add spice and flavour and beauty to our lives. They are, in their differences, in their multiplicities, in their abundance and profusion, as unique and talented and incredible as any of us.

50 years ago, the Stonewall riots, started a movement, which allowed the LGBT community to fight for their rights and let their true colours fly proudly. 50 years on, the Pride parade is a celebration of all people: it’s about diversity, inclusion, acceptance and most importantly, about love.

Even as I sprinted through the various groups marching in the parade, trying to catch up with my own group, I was struck by how much happiness and love there was in the onlookers and the procession. Everybody who was there wanted to be there. This wasn’t just people wanting to watch a spectacle, this was about people wanting to be a part of history. In supporting the LGBT community, we are paving the way to erode all kinds of discrimination, whether that is on the basis of sexuality, colour, caste or creed.

50 years from now, let us hope that humanity will understand and accept that differences are important. They allow growth, change and progress. In learning to love another, despite all perceived disparities and diversities, we ultimately learn to love ourselves. All routes, must and should, lead to love. ❤️

 

 

The ubiquity of abuse

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I was having coffee with a bunch of ladies I didn’t really know. A common hobby had brought us together and as we met (some, for the first time) and chatted and ordered coffee and cake, the conversation veered off course as it inevitably does when you put women together. This wasn’t a business luncheon, it was very much a ‘getting to know you’ do. Our common hobby had brought us together, but we wanted to know if there was something else, beyond that, which could connect us.

As we talked backgrounds, languages, cultures, careers, husbands and children, we delved into each other’s lives, hesitantly at first, and then boldly, asking forthright questions and receiving some compelling and often hilarious answers. A sisterhood was emerging right there in that little coffee shop.

Interestingly, because we were, in effect, strangers to one another, there was a frankness and a candour to our conversation. There was no previous baggage nor was there any judgement. Each one was free to divulge as much or as little as they wished. Which is perhaps why some shocking truths emerged.

I have thought long and hard about writing this blog post. Am I betraying these ladies’ confidences if I do? Is this a kind of treachery to the very sisterhood I espouse? Am I worthy of being a confidante if I am unable to zip my lip?

However, upon reflection, I decided that yes, I would indeed write about it. No names or details of the women in question will be revealed here. That is not the purpose of this post. The purpose is to highlight the vulnerability of young children and how, it is so important for us as adults – parents and carers, to be vigilant about any possible signs and symptoms of abuse.

70% of the ladies at that table had been subject to some kind of sexual abuse as children. This ranged from an elderly relative using his trustworthy position in the family to inappropriately touch a child, to older children molesting a young girl in their midst, to a cousin leveraging his way into his sister’s affections to try and rape her.

Where were the adults when all this happened? Oblivious, too trusting or incapable of translating the traumatised child’s words and actions as a symptom of their ordeal.

Following on the heels of the #MeToo movement, the awareness of society’s ability to use and discard vulnerable adults has emerged strongly into the forefront. Yet, child abuse is so much more rampant and ubiquitous than anyone of us could have imagined.

All of these women were educated, erudite professionals who had carved out amazing careers and on the outside looked as put together as anyone else. Yet, fragments of their abusive past still lingered, making them feel ‘less than’ and handicapped in ways that even they could not articulate. If our pasts are the foundations to our future, it must have been doubly hard to build their future on the quicksands of trauma, betrayal and abuse.

I have spoken freely about the kind of sexual harassment I encountered growing up in India. Thankfully, because my mother was a very forward thinking individual, she was particularly circumspect about the adults who had access to me as a child. I had been told time and again to tell her if anything inappropriate was said or done to me. I was amongst the lucky few.

How many others had to stay ‘schtum’ because of the joint families they were growing up in wouldn’t tolerate any rent in its fabric, even if the casualty was a child’s innocence? How many parents believed that shrouding the truth or simply disbelieving the child were the only ways forward? How many ‘uncles’ or manservants got away scot-free because the ‘good name’ of the family was far more important than offering the victim love, support, understanding and challenging the perpetrator’s dirty deeds?

Too many.

Which is why it is so important that we talk about childhood sexual abuse. Children have nothing to be ashamed of. They are completely innocent of any wrong doing. It is the sick and depraved adults who choose and groom their victims alongside their families, that need to be brought to task.

I hope there comes a day when that coffee table conversation will not be limited to the tales of abuse suffered by young children, but will go on to elaborate the punishment society accorded to the abuser, and the counselling that was offered to the child to overcome that early trauma. As things stand right now, most children have to find their own coping mechanisms and unlike my ladies, can and do, spiral into self destructive behaviours.

I am not naive enough to believe that we will eradicate child sexual abuse completely. Wherever there is a power imbalance, abuse will exist and thrive. Sadly, there will also always be individuals with a sexual predilection for children. A multi-pronged approach that includes awareness, education, therapy, counselling, stricter laws and most importantly, a gradual erosion of patriarchy, may bring about the much needed change that will protect our children and ensure a safer future for them.

 

 

Wrung out

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“I don’t know how you do it!” is a refrain I hear often. The ‘it’ being – working which involves a lot of travel, taking care of home which involves cleaning, cooking, doing the chores while also parenting and trying to be a supportive partner, while keeping up with my exercise and friends, TV shows, movies, reading and writing. All of this is in no particular order as depending on the day and the need, the hierarchy gets moved around a fair bit.

Now, if I were to be honest, while I may look swan-like getting it all done, there is some furious paddling going on beneath the water, and often times tasks are either hurriedly done or left completely by the wayside. Neither of which are desirable outcomes. My story is no different to any other working mother, some of whom don’t even have the kind of super supportive husband that I do.

The month of June was meant to be the month I took off social media to focus on work and writing. I have done both, but life does have a funny old way of throwing a spanner in the works.

My daughter’s A levels are going on, and rather than being that nagging mother who is on her back 24/7 haranguing her to study, I thought, this would be the perfect month to work to my max, and stay out of her hair. After all, at this late stage, it’s better for her to have a relaxed state of mind to sit her exams. What I couldn’t possibly have foreseen is the ill health of my second daughter. An ear infection that has her screaming in agony, sleepless nights, an allergic reaction to the antibiotics, another rushed visit to the doctor’s, being given an unsigned prescription on a Friday evening making it near impossible to procure the medication, husband running from pillar to post and finally, miraculously, through some fortuitous messaging, getting a hold of the meds.

While the medicines do their work, I am at work again. This time, however, I find I have a short fuse, am completely exhausted and totally unable to string a coherent sentence together. Writing? Once again on the back burner.

Sometimes I despair that I’ll never become the sort of serious writer I aspire to be. The one who gets up each morning and in a very disciplined manner, trots out a couple of thousand words before serenely taking out the garbage and getting the rest of her chores done.

Me – I write when I can, where I can. Sometimes, not for weeks. And when I do, it’s not always the best quality. What hope is there for me?

My mother always said that I could be a bulldog about the things that I wanted. I really want… no, I really need to write. I guess its sheer tenacity that keeps me going. That, and a sense of catharsis and peace. Each time I sit down to write, I feel like I’m coming home. This is where I’m meant to be, this is what I’m meant to do.

So, in answer to the oft repeated question, how do I do it? I do it. Badly, haphazardly, intermittently. Still, I keep going. Tired and wrung out as I am, it’s the only way I know how to live. All those multiple balls in the air… some will fall, some will roll away, but I’ll keep juggling them till I have breath left in me.

Now, I’ll go take a nap.

 

The trouble with Brexit – Johanna Brunt

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It is the beginning of May, 2019 – nearly three years after the UK’s 2016 referendum, during which it decided to leave the European Union. Even at this late stage in the game, nobody knows if Brexit is going to be hard, soft or sunny side up – or whether it will even happen at all! The UK has just been given a Halloween extension, and some much-needed breathing space. The entire country is confused about backstops, trade deals and tariffs, and thoroughly fed up with the way everything has been handled in Westminster. It is high time for a progress report: how did we get here, and where do we go from now?

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  1. The Single Market and the Cherry Picking Myth

Brexit. A subject that has divided the country, parliament and political parties in the UK for three years now, and shows no signs of becoming any less polarising. With a difference of only 3.8%, the Leave campaign won the June 2016 referendum. Why did so many people think that Britain going its own way would be the best course of action?

There were two main reasons why people voted Leave in 2016. The first one was sovereignty. Many people were happy for the UK to cooperate with other European countries on trade and other issues, but they felt that over the years, the EU had grown too big for its boots. They were sick of being bossed around by unelected politicians in Brussels, and wanted to take back control.

The second biggest issue was immigration. A lot of British people didn’t like the European idea of unlimited Freedom of Movement. In their eyes, it meant that any Juan, Jan or Janusz could just enter the country, settle in, and undercut local workers or claim benefits.

So let’s have a look at this big European bully, that seems to feel entitled to impose its rules on the UK. What exactly is the European Union, what are the pros and cons of membership, and is leaving the EU the right thing to do for the UK?

The EU was originally set up with the aim of ending the frequent and bloody wars between neighbours, which culminated in WWII. It is based on the idea that when countries trade together, and have a close working relationship, they are less likely to wage war against each other. The founding values of the European Union still form the core of European policy: freedom, democracy, equality, the rule of law and respect for human rights.

Today, the EU is incredibly big and powerful – probably a lot bigger, and a lot more powerful than most people in the UK realise! It accounts for almost a quarter of the world’s GDP (23%), meaning that it is also very rich, compared to most of the rest of the world. In fact, out of 193 countries in the United Nations, only 35 are considered ‘advanced economies’ according to the IMF – and out of these 35 countries, 27 are inside the EU.

So how did the EU become so big, powerful and rich? The answer lies in just three little words: The Single Market. This is when things get pretty boring – but please bear with me, as it is absolutely central to the whole Brexit debate!

The Single Market is by far the biggest, and most advanced single trading area on the planet. It is an ongoing process of harmonisation and standardisation, designed to make it as easy as possible for people, goods, services and money to move around those countries that are a part of it: the 28 members of the EU, plus 4 non-EU countries: Norway, Iceland, Liechtenstein (EEA countries), and Switzerland. It does not only cover free trade, meaning that the countries within the Single Market don’t charge each other tariffs (import taxes). It also covers something much more advanced than that, and something that is quite unique: frictionless trade.

Frictionless trade means that countries within the Single Market have decided to not only eliminate tariffs and customs barriers between themselves. They have also made it as easy as possible to trade and allow free access to each other’s markets, by having the same standards and regulations for goods and services. That means the same safety regulations, environmentally friendly packaging, food labelling, consumer guarantees etc, to create a fair and level playing field between countries. Kind of as if the Single Market was a single country, really! This way, manufacturers don’t have to set up different production lines, to make different goods for different countries. Essentially, it gets rid of trade barriers and internal borders, making it easier for companies to operate internationally, and enlarge their markets.

Imagine, for instance, that you are a British manufacturer of hairdryers. If you want to sell those hairdryers to other countries, you would normally have to deal with different regulations that other countries have, because of their different legal systems. Spain may have certain laws regarding particular hairdryer components, or they may have completely different safety standards to the ones that you have in your country. And Austria, Malta and Sweden may also have slightly different rules and regulations. That would make cross-border trade much harder for you – those countries wouldn’t allow you to sell your hairdryers in their countries, because you don’t comply with their standards. Setting up different production lines for different countries you want to sell to would increase costs for you, leading to higher prices for your products, and reduced competitiveness. You would probably just end up staying in your own country, and lose out on the opportunity to become a big company that trades internationally.

The Single Market has removed those regulatory barriers by allowing frictionless trade between Single Market countries, both in goods and in services. Incidentally, services are things like banking, insurance and telecommunications which make up about 80% of the economy, so it’s quite important to the UK (fishing is less than 0.5%, by the way..). This way, it is now as easy for you to sell your hairdryers from London to Lisbon, as it is to sell them from London to Leeds.

You may ask yourself: “That’s all very nice, but that’s all about trade and stuff. How does that affect me?” Well, having a healthy economy means high employment (jobs), more people spending their well-earned money and keeping the economy going, and more money for the government’s coffers. Companies have to pay corporation taxes, its workers pay National Insurance Contributions and income taxes, and all of that money goes into HMRC. With that pot of money, governments can then pay for schools, hospitals, housing, the police and other public services. It’s a win-win situation, because your country has high employment and more money to spend. Membership of the EU and the Single Market has undoubtedly been of great benefit for the UK, which used to be known as the ‘sick man of Europe’ in the 1960’s. In fact, it has been so successful that it has made the UK the fifth biggest economy in the entire world (although it dropped to sixth soon after the 2016 referendum).

In order to prevent the member states from engaging in unfair competition, and to keep a level playing field, the Single Market also involves countries having certain baseline standards regarding workers’ rights, health and safety regulations, consumer protections, environmental rules, food and animal welfare standards etc. A great number of these kinds of regulations and laws have been written by the UK, which is seen as one of the ‘Big Three’: the three largest and most important countries within the EU (along with Germany and France).

The famous European CE mark, for example, originated from the old British Kitemark. If you see it on a toy that you bought for your children, you can be confident that it is not going to have any tiny components that your baby may choke on, or that he or she is not going to get ill because the toy is covered in toxic paint. All countries within the Single Market have agreed that they will not compete with each other by trying to lower basic standards that exist to protect workers, consumers and the environment, and that they certainly won’t try to get rid of them altogether.

Some of these regulatory rules and standards apply to more than just the 28 EU countries plus those 4 non-EU countries. The Single Market has essentially turned the EU into a huge global powerhouse – one that negotiates its own trade deals with other countries and trading blocs, on behalf of its member states. As an EU member, the UK is part of about 40 trade agreements that the EU has with about 70 other countries, which have taken decades to negotiate. And because it is so big and powerful, the EU has a lot of clout. For instance, if you now buy a toy from China it will have to have a CE mark on it, because the EU has forced China to comply with European safety standards – thus protecting European consumers.

Having these basic common standards is also good news for ordinary citizens, as many EU laws protect them from being exploited by unscrupulous employers. For instance, it means that you can’t be forced to work more than 48 hours a week – you can if you want to, but your employer can’t sack you if you don’t. Things like paid holidays, a ban on age discrimination, LGBT rights, paid maternity leave etc are also enshrined in EU law. It is therefore no coincidence that pretty much all UK unions, as well as the vast majority of economists, campaigned against Brexit during the 2016 referendum campaign.

As you can imagine, the EU has been very keen to protect the integrity of the Single Market during the Brexit negotiations. This consist of four pillars, also known as the ‘four freedoms’:

  1. Freedom of goods
  2. Freedom of services
  3. Freedom of capital (money)
  4. Freedom of people (labour)

EU negotiators set out their strategy from the beginning, and they have been very clear all along: “Anything can be discussed, but we can’t separate these four freedoms, that the success of our Single Market is based on.”

Unfortunately though, the UK spent the next few years trying to cherry-pick bits out of the Single Market cake. Take the Chequers proposal: “We’ll have that freedom of goods part, thank you very much – but you can keep the freedom of movement part that we don’t want.” When the EU explained that you’re either in the Single Market or you’re out of it, and you can’t have it both ways, the UK press were outraged: how dare the EU humiliate our prime minister by refusing our cherry-picking proposals? Surely they should give us what we want?

This rather one-sided British point of view shows a really basic misunderstanding about the importance of the Single Market to the EU, and its role in the prosperity of all EU countries. The EU sticking to its guns is not about it being vindictive, or about punishing the UK. It is about the EU being strong and stable. Its main aim is, of course, to protect the interests of its 27 remaining member states, not that of 1 soon-to-be ex-member. After all, there is not a single organisation in the world that will give better terms to non-members than to members. So why would it be reasonable to expect the EU to change a winning formula, that has taken decades to develop?

When you look back at old footage of pro-Brexit politicians being interviewed before the referendum, you notice how many of them expected the EU to cave in to the UK’s demands. They talk about the UK wanting complete and full access to the Single Market after Brexit, without it having to adhere to the rules on its four freedoms – particularly the freedom of movement part. Or they talk about keeping access to ‘a’ Single Market, rather than ‘the’ Single Market (as if there are two).

It took a little while before it dawned on these Brexiteers that they couldn’t have their cake and eat it. That that unspecified, magical ‘deal’ that they had promised their voters was, in fact, unavailable – and that it had never existed in the first place. It is as if they had decided to cancel their Netflix subscription, but were then completely taken by surprise when they switched on the tv on a Saturday night, and couldn’t watch any movies anymore. And what’s more: they had a go at a rather baffled Netflix afterwards – an organisation that had always been quite clear about its rules.

So where does this odd mix of pie-in-the-sky thinking (“the German car industry will give in to our demands because we are too important to them; we hold all the cards”), victim mentality (“the bullies in the EU want to punish us”) and anti-EU hostility (“it is an elite conspiracy against the public”) come from? And how did we get to a situation where so many British people genuinely believe that the EU is evil, vindictive, and out to get them? Look no further than the British media, and several decades of Project Fear. More of that coming up next week, in part 2.

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Johanna Brunt was born and raised in The Netherlands. She has spent half her life there on the continent, and half her life in the UK. After studying English and European Studies at the University of Amsterdam, she moved to London where she started working for an international airline. She is married to a Brit, and they have three children together.

My Cup Runneth Over…

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I started my Guest Blog month in the hope that at least 50% of the people I had contacted for articles (people whose thoughts, lives and words I admired) would get back to me with some material. In actual fact, nearly 80% did! Yes I did pester and harangue them quite a bit (SORRY!) but my goodness, the response! I am humbled, grateful and overwhelmed beyond description.

My month overran, once again, like last time. But I didn’t mind and nor did my readers. It’s refreshing to come to a blog and read something new and unexpected. And boy, were the articles different and the topics varied!

André chronicled his unusual life and path in My unlikely journey to fatherhood. It was honest, heartfelt and emotionally uplifting. The response to his article was phenomenal. People reached out to tell him (and me) how much they admired him for his choices. His love for his children and their mothers shone like a beacon, and I hope it allowed other seemingly unlikely candidates to believe that they too can be mothers and fathers. After all, families come in all shapes and guises. It is love that holds them together.

The ghost in the office was Shantanu’s retelling of a mysterious series of events that occurred in one of his early offices. Does the supernatural exist? For a practical and rational person like Shantanu, nothing can explain away the incident he mentions. Spooky and eerie, sometimes there are things that are beyond the realm of our understanding, and maybe it’s best to leave them as is. What did you make of it?

Diya had a cushy existence till she decided to take the plunge and start teaching a group of underprivileged children in My rendezvous with God’s angels. What she found there was more rewarding than she could have ever expected. Their innocence, their eagerness to learn, their love for their teacher transformed her life. She learned to let go of the petty annoyances that plagued her, and immerse herself in giving back. To this day, it enriches her life in ways big and small.

Making mosaics became more than a hobby for Jyoti. It was an unconventional choice of craft and she encountered more than her fair share of problems, from the paucity of tools to the reluctance of other practitioners to share their skills. As a result, she started her own blog with the aim of helping other beginners and amateurs to source materials, tools and provide guidance in the process as well. Not only does she create the most beautiful mosaics, but also believes in the adage – ‘Gaining knowledge, is the first step to wisdom. Sharing it, is the first step to humanity.’ In Why do I make mosaics? Jyoti’s passion, humanity and humility shine through. She is an incredibly inspirational lady.

The Call of a Siren was an article sent to me by someone who wished to remain anonymous. If you’ve read the article, you will know why. The beauty of it is that this man has turned his life around from that lapse of judgement he details, and today he is an incredibly successful entrepreneur. He is also an avid reader and dabbles in the occasional bit of writing. It was my exhorting him to put pen to paper that created this thrilling recounting of an incident from his 20’s. I’m sure you’d agree that it reads like an episode from an exciting television series. My own heart was thumping as I read it for the first time! My friend, if you’re reading this, write more. You do have a gift.

HeartonWheels is Jeanne’s raison d’etre. She spends half her life in these refugee camps in Greece helping children overcome the trauma of escaping from war torn countries and being separated from their families. In extremely difficult conditions, she tries to fill their lives with laughter and with joy. This is not just a part time job for her, it is a calling. She is invested physically, mentally and emotionally in the well being of her charges. Her dream is to provide free education to all children in such conditions and through her mobile bus, which she is raising funds for, she hopes to realise this dream. Do have a read and contribute to her justgiving page if you can.

To say that Mohana has had an interesting life would be an understatement. A straight A student, who, for many years let her academic qualifications dictate the course of her life, then suddenly, on what seemed like a whim, let her art and talent take her on an entirely different journey. Yet, in her article, Life’s Nudges to Eke an Untrodden Path, Mohana explains how the seeds of this journey had been planted many years ago. The daughter of a renowned dancer, Mohana herself was an exceptionally talented danseuse. But it took many years, and many tiny hints from the Universe for her to realise where her true path lay. Unapologetically spiritual, she incorporates elements of her faith in her dance. There is an unalloyed joy that she transmits to her students through her teaching, that elevates her dance from the ordinary to the extraordinary.

Bharat is a writer I admire immensely. His grasp on the English language is breathtaking. He can bend, twist, transmogrify and transmute words into astonishing combinations of sentences, transporting the reader into worlds where these words dance and twirl around one like whirling dervishes. A man whose imagination is so fertile, so fecund that he can trot out poem after poem without breaking a sweat. Yet, a self confessed procrastinator, it took me close to a year to get him to write about his Vipassana experience. For a man of words, how strange it must have been to have none for ten days. A retreat that is a true test of one’s mettle, but also a retreat that helps one to delve deeper into the self. Bharat’s take on it is part humorous, but there is an underlying awe and a deep love and respect for humanity that comes through. A tale of two beards is more than just about beards, it is about man’s search for meaning and silence in a world that grows louder and more chaotic each day.

Finally, the poignant and heart wrenching The Bus Stop was Joan’s tribute to her mother who suffered from Alzheimers for several years before succumbing to it. Disease of any kind strips the body of its well being and dignity, but Alzheimers strips the mind of everything. To not know oneself, one’s own life forgotten, one’s family becoming strangers, must be a horribly scary and isolating experience. Joan’s poem gives words to the wordless. It is an insight into a lost and wandering mind, trying to find its bearings, trying to grasp fruitlessly at memories that are slipping away. ‘Am I a lost article?’ is what her mother asked her once. Maybe we all are, lost in one way or another. But to be lost to oneself… what could be worse than that?

My Guest Blog month hasn’t quite ended. A colleague, the extremely intelligent, erudite, politically astute, deep thinking Joke Brunt is working on a series of articles on Brexit for me. The month of May will be devoted to her take on what Brexit stands for, and what the ramifications will be, to those of us on both sides of the fence. Do keep reading, keep commenting and stay engaged!

A very BIG thank you to all of my contributors once again.