Looking Out, Looking Within

We ushered out the last year with a resolve to be more giving. To give not only of our material wealth, but equally of ourselves, in whatever form and scale is best suited for each one of us. We resolved to strive towards a deeper purpose, defined by connection. As the New Year dawns, let us consider what this purpose and connection could really be. And for this let us look back at words of wisdom from the past.

Bertrand Russell reminds of our mortality but also that life is not lived by the length of years but by the depth of living.

Make your interests gradually wider and more impersonal, until bit by bit the walls of the ego recede, and your life becomes increasingly merged in the universal life. An individual human existence should be like a river — small at first, narrowly contained within its banks, and rushing passionately past rocks and over waterfalls. Gradually the river grows wider, the banks recede, the waters flow more quietly, and in the end, without any visible break, they become merged in the sea, and painlessly lose their individual being.

Today we live in an age of uncertainty on every front, and are constantly bracing for an imagined catastrophe. Two millennia before this ‘age of anxiety’, Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca counselled about ‘groundless fears’ about the future that keep us from living fully in the present.

What I advise you to do is, not to be unhappy before the crisis comes; since it may be that the dangers before which you paled as if they were threatening you, will never come upon you; they certainly have not yet come.

Accordingly, some things torment us more than they ought; some torment us before they ought; and some torment us when they ought not to torment us at all. We are in the habit of exaggerating, or imagining, or anticipating, sorrow.

And thus we wallow in our imagined sorrows, and impending gloom and doom scenarios. We become increasingly obsessive about ourselves and our interests, and our perceived threatened security. But Soren Kierkegaard, the existentialist philosopher reminded us a century and a half ago:

The unhappy person is one who has his ideal, the content of his life, the fullness of his consciousness, the essence of his being, in some manner outside of himself. The unhappy man is always absent from himself, never present to himself. But one can be absent, obviously, either in the past or in the future. This adequately circumscribes the entire territory of the unhappy consciousness. The unhappy one is absent… It is only the person who is present to himself that is happy.

So what is the formula for happiness? Something as simple as kindness, as Leo Tolstoy reminds us:

Nothing can make our life, or the lives of other people, more beautiful than perpetual kindness.

The kinder and the more thoughtful a person is, the more kindness he can find in other people.

Kindness enriches our life; with kindness mysterious things become clear, difficult things become easy, and dull things become cheerful.

You should respond with kindness toward evil done to you, and you will destroy in an evil person that pleasure which he derives from evil.

Kindness is for your soul as health is for your body: you do not notice it when you have it.

Kindness is a beautiful act of communication. Speech is another. In these times of instant, truncated communication, often expressed through insta images and emojis, are we in danger of reducing human communication to mere exchange of information? In our frenetic texting, are we forgetting that the heart and soul of a message is a relationship between the sender and the receiver? This comes alive through the power of the spoken word. 

Ursula K. Le Guin reminds us:

Speech connects us so immediately and vitally because it is a physical, bodily process, to begin with. Not a mental or spiritual one, wherever it may end… The voice creates a sphere around it, which includes all its hearers: an intimate sphere or area, limited in both space and time.

Sound is dynamic. Speech is dynamic — it is action. To act is to take power, to have power, to be powerful. Mutual communication between speakers and listeners is a powerful act. The power of each speaker is amplified, augmented, by the entrainment of the listeners. The strength of a community is amplified, augmented by its mutual entrainment in speech.

This is why utterance is magic. Words do have power. Names have power. Words are events, they do things, change things. They transform both speaker and hearer; they feed energy back and forth and amplify it. They feed understanding or emotion back and forth and amplify it.

This year, let us remind ourselves to converse with, and among each other, and not at each other.

And as we continue to seek the elusive “happiness” in the year ahead, may the wisdom of Bertrand Russell once more be our template:

Shift focus from self-absorption to cultivating interests beyond oneself; avoid excessive self-analysis; develop a healthy balance of effort and acceptance; engage in meaningful work; foster deep meaningful relationships; develop a sense of humour, and find contentment in spontaneous participation in life’s stream rather than battle the currents and eddies.  

May this year allow us all this and more, enriching our lives in more ways than one.

Happy New Year 2026!

–Mamata and Meena

A Christmas Post Script

Merry Christmas!

Meena wrote about the Advent Calendar that marked the daily countdown to this day. This tradition has changed over the years to reflect the age of consumerism and commercialization of all things, especially festivals. However, it is heart-warming to find out about a fairly new tradition that transforms this individual household practice into a community celebration.

Pohutukuwa New Zealand’s Xmas Tree

A small village on the Devon Cornwall border in England has started a Living Advent project. As part of this, instead of windows opening out in paper or packages, these are displays in real windows. One day at a time, in the month leading up to Christmas, a window of one house in the village lights up at 17.00 GMT, to reveal a display. The themes are varied and left up to the imagination of the house-owners of the window. The displays are made with great enthusiasm by equally varied ‘designers’,, from children, to senior citizens to professional artists. The result is a warm feeling of being part of a community effort that is enjoyed by all. The idea is catching on. Another village in Cornwall has planned that to take this beyond the window dressing to actually opening up the doors. As part of this, every day one house will open its doors to invite people to a shared meal, a concert, an exhibition, a poetry reading or carol singing, all with a Christmas theme. What a wonderful way to truly celebrate the spirit of the festive season.

That brings us to Christmas day. After the festivities of Christmas Eve, in many parts of the world, this is a day for sumptuous lunches, opening gifts and spending time with family. This is the scenario that is commonly associated with this day.

However, there are many traditions associated with this festival that make for interesting celebrations in different parts of the world. The traditions vary dramatically from place to place, shaped by landscape, history, values and climate. This is a good day to learn about some of these.

Celebrating Spiders: While stars and tinsel decorations are the most common Xmas decorations, in Ukraine it is a spiderweb! Delicate webs are crafted from paper and wire, decorated with spangles and sparkles, and wrapped around the Christmas tree. The practice is associated with a folk tale about a poor woman who had found a pine cone and planted it in the floor of her home. The tree grew well, but when Christmas came, the family could not afford Christmas ornaments. A spider decorated her Christmas tree in the night and the family woke in the morning to find it glittering with silvery webs, and from that day forward, her family was never in need again. Even today, along with the crafted webs, it is considered to be good luck to find a real spider or web on a tree, and these are not swept away during this period. And tiny spiders called pavuchkys maybe be spotted among the tree ornaments.

The Good Witch: If spider webs are reminiscent of Halloween there is a tradition in Italy which is equally so. Christmastime is witching season in Italy. A good witch called Le Befana flies on her broomstick to visit households on 5 January, and stuffs children’s stockings with small goodies to mark the end of the festive season. Why so late? The legend is that Le Befana was housekeeper to the three Magi. So devoted was she to her work that she did not accompany them to the manger, but chased after them later with gifts for baby Jesus. She continues to chase, after Christmas, with her belated gifts!

The Krampus: If Le Befana is a not a wicked witch, the Krampus certainly is a towering hairy monster. A mythic Alpine creature, half goat, half human with goat horns and long tongue, Krampus is the alter ego of St Nicholas who rewards good children with goodies. Krampus is said to visit children on 5 December and punish naughty children with birch rods, or presents of  lumps of coal. Even today the Krampus is a popular part of Christmas celebrations in many Alpine countries including Germany, Austria and Bavaria, when men dressed as Krampus race through the streets.

The Gifting Goat: In Sweden it is Gavle Goat that is the giver of presents. Legend has it that the Norse God Thor’s chariot was driven by two goats, leading to the association of goats with a bountiful harvest. These were later associated with the elves who rode with Santa to deliver presents. Now cities in Sweden erect a tall goat structure made of wood or straw on the first day of advent to signify the spirit of Christmas, and small straw goats are given as gifts.  

Rotten Potatoes: In Iceland it is not goats but the 13 Yule lads that visit homes on 13 nights leading to Christmas. Children place their shoes by the window each night, and receive gifts depending on how they have behaved round the year. Good behaviour is rewarded with sweets, while the less angelic ones find rotten potatoes in their shoes!

While most Christmas traditions are associated with cold snowy climes, we often forget that for half the world, Christmas is a summer celebration! And celebrations are appropriately sunny and outdoorsy.

In South Africa it’s time to picnic in the balmy sunshine with barbeques on braais (charcoal grills).  

In Australia it’s time for the tradition of a family Christmas cricket match. Everyone, old and young plays, and participates, with lots of food, and loads of fun.

In Venezuela people roll up to attend the Christmas mass. Yes literally, following the tradition to arrive at Church on roller skates. Children sleep early so as to get up before dawn, and adults often skate through the night to reach for the early morning Mass. It is a beautiful tradition that signifies not just the destination and the ritual, but also the sense of traveling together and arriving at a common meeting place.

In New Zealand, it is not the temperate fir tree that symbolizes the spirit of Christmas but a native tree that flowers with fiery red tufts in December. This is the Pohutukawa tree. It has been associated with Christmas in New Zealand since at least 150 years, when a Maori leader Eruera Patuone included it in his table decorations for a Christmas feast. The tradition continues and it this tree that evokes the Christmas spirit for New Zealanders.

Today as the world celebrates Christmas in so many different ways, these traditions remind us that the very spirit of Christmas lies in the shared joy of celebrating love, hope, compassion, and peace for all humankind.

–Mamata

Toy Story

Meena’s piece on ‘stupid’ toys resonated deeply as I was recently observing my young grandchild ‘play’ with endless possibilities offered by a discarded cardboard carton and corrugated packing material. From basement parking, a hideaway for stashing precious knicks and knacks, to becoming a bumpy road in a ‘rough road-smooth road’ scenario, the original contents of the package became irrelevant in the light of the child’s imagination, in which a host of exciting make-believe objects took on mind-boggling avatars.

Toys that adults may decry as “stupid” afford hours of enjoyment to a child. A toy is described as an object for play, especially for children, or a miniature replica of something real. Toys could be broadly classified on the basis of the material used, like wooden toys, clay toys, cloth toys etc., or the kind of play that they are used in like pulling toys, rattles, dolls and mechanical toys.

The fascination for such objects is as old as humankind is. The earliest toys were made from materials found in nature such as stones, sticks and clay. Anthropologists have found evidence of such toys dating as far back as there is a record of human life. Such toys have been unearthed at the sites of most of the ancient civilizations.  

India has a long and rich tradition of such toys. The origins can be traced back to the Indus Valley Civilization. A wide range of toys have been discovered during archaeological excavations at different sites in Mohenjo daro and Harappa. These include clay figurines, dolls, carts and wheeled animals, as well as whistles shaped like birds, and toy monkeys which could slide down a string. These were made from locally available material, and many of these have lived on through the centuries, with some changes but retaining their essence. Today these are described as indigenous or ‘folk toys’.

India still has a living culture of indigenous toys. Traditionally these were linked with fairs (melas) and festivals where the artisans would themselves sell their own products.  These toys usually fall in two broad categories—static toys and dynamic toys.

Static toys are those that are basically representational like dolls, figures of animals and birds, and models representing themes of everyday life. Many static toys often become decorative items, while others take on ritualistic associations. These include dolls and figurines of gods and goddesses, people, animals, birds and themes related to our day-to-day environment. They are in a variety of materials, clay, wood, metal, leaves, bamboo, or paper, often using established craft techniques.

Some of these figurines are a key element of the Dussera display in homes in the Southern states during Sankranthi or Navratri. Known as Golu (Kannada), Bommala Koluvu (Telugu) or Bommai Kolu (Tamil) these elaborate displays include a great variety of such dolls collected over generations.

The tradition of making these dolls continues in several parts of India. Colourful Channapatna wooden toys are made by a few families in Channaptna town close to Bangalore and Mysore, who continue a generations old tradition, where the designs and techniques are passed on by word of mouth from parents to children.

Kondapalli toys, lightwood toys painted in vibrant colours are made by artisans in Kondapalli close to Vijaywada in Andhra Pradesh, depicting rural life, mythology, and daily life scenes.

Thanjavur toys from Tamil Nadu are roly-poly bobble headed toys made from papier mache or terracotta.

Asharikandi putola are traditional terracotta figurines of deities, animals and everyday objects, handcrafted by craftsman in a village in Assam called Asharikandi.

Almost every state in India has similar traditions and craftspeople who make such toys, but these are being eclipsed by the surge in mass produced toys, usually made of cheap plastic and often using harmful synthetic colours.

As distinct from Static toys, Dynamic folk toys create movement, change form, and make sounds. Such sensory stimuli are direct and clearly understood—which is the object of the toy. They illustrate simple themes derived from our physical environment. These toys provide simple entertainment and amusement for young children. They are simple in construction, but the design of these toys is based on the application of one or more basic principles of physics—the laws of mass and gravity, centrifugal force, simple mechanics, sound and magnetism. These toys are low cost, made of simple, everyday used materials like paper, cardboard, bits and pieces of wood, bamboo, metal sheets, wire, etc. Most of these are ephemeral in nature, lasting a few hours or days. Their themes are often humorous: a wrestler boxing, two men fighting, a joker dancing, an acrobat somersaulting, a sparrow chirruping and flying, a frog croaking, a bee humming, a horse galloping. All these themes fascinate young children.

Traditionally, such toys were associated with fairs and festivals where one could find vendors selling flutes and whistles, spinning paper wind-wheels, moving puppets, chirruping birds in motion, striking bamboo snakes, crawling paper snakes, rattles and drums, optical illusion toys, and more.

It is visiting such local melas that sparked in Sudarshan Khanna the curiosity to understand more about these objects that were simply considered as “child’s play”. Sudarshan Khanna embarked on a lifelong engagement with folk toys to become a pioneer in toy research and design. Among one of the first batches to graduate from the National Institute of Design in Ahmedabad, and later as faculty there Sudarshan Khanna attended mela after mela, collecting, researching and documenting indigenous toys. He was fascinated that the makers of these toys were not formally trained engineers nor designers but they understood the mechanisms and design processes perfectly. Their products were usually eco-friendly, and always child friendly! These observations led him to encourage his ‘official’ design students to also work on toys as products, while he headed the Toy Innovation Centre at NID, one of the very few centres that offered formal programmes in toy making and design. Sudarshan Khanna’s documented work and his workshops and talks have contributed significantly to the revival in interest and conservation of folk toys.

Also a reminder that toys do not necessarily need to be ‘state-of-the art’ products, ordered online, and delivered packed in endless layers. Merry Christmas!

–Mamata

The Call of the Mountains: Nan Shepherd

December 11 is marked as the International Mountain Day. Mountains have always fascinated human beings not only for their sheer scale and majesty, but also as a natural element that offers a challenge, as well as a test of physical and mental strength, and the thrill of scaling the peaks. There are numerous narratives of expeditions that describe these challenges and achievements, most of these by, and about men.

The Cairngorms

A different perspective, and approach towards mountains reminds us that there is more to mountains than the thrill of conquest.

This was lyrically described by Anna (who called herself Nan) Shepherd, a Scottish poet, writer and explorer of mountains. Nan was born in February 1893, close to Aberdeen on the North East coast of Scotland. When she was one month old, her family moved to nearby Cults and lived in a house with a garden overlooking the hills. Nan continued to live in the same house almost till the end of her life. As a young girl Nan was encouraged by her father, a keen hill walker, to explore the nearby hills, and this planted in her a lifelong love for nature and the mountains. Nan was an equally avid reader, and from her early teens she would fill notebooks with passages that inspired her from the wide spectrum of her reading. After completing her schooling in 1912, Nan joined the University of Aberdeen in the first decades after women were allowed to do so. She was an outstanding student, and graduated in 1915 with an MA in literature. Following this she taught English literature at Aberdeen Training Centre for Teachers, and continued to give enthralling lectures until she was well into her eighties. She was not only an inspiring teacher but also a role model for her students, as an early feminist. She wryly described her role as “the heaven-appointed task of trying to prevent a few of the students who pass through our Institution from conforming altogether to the approved pattern.”

Although she had always enjoyed walking in the hills, Nan Shepherd became deeply engaged with climbing in the period between the two World Wars. She was thirty years old when she began her explorations in the Cairngorms in 1928. This experience was the start of a passion that came to define both her life and her writing. From then on, she sought to escape into the Cairngorms whenever her job would allow. Often she would walk alone, camping out, and wading into hidden lochs. Occasionally she was accompanied by friends and fellow walkers from the local Deeside Field Club, or by students from the university.

By the 1940s Nan had scaled some of the highest peaks in the Cairngorms, among the wildest landscapes in the British Isles. However Nan’s expeditions were not about ‘reaching the top’ but rather a spiritual journey to ‘understand herself and the world’. She became fascinated by what happened to mind and matter on this journey up and down the mountain slopes.

These experiences were reflected in her literary work. The harsh landscape, as well as the people and places she knew well, provided the background to her first three books, published while she was teaching. These novels focussed on the harsh landscape which made for a harsh way of life, and within these, complexities of women struggling with maintaining traditional roles in a dawning age which was opening up new opportunities

But Nan Shepherd never wrote for recognition. She wrote only when she felt she had something worth saying. “I don’t like writing, really. In fact, I very rarely write. No. I never do short stories and articles. I only write when I feel that there’s something that simply must be written.”

For her teaching was as, if not more, important than her writing. However she continued to document her explorations of the Cairngorms, which came together around the end of the Second World War, under the title The Living Mountain. She combined her knowledge of the mountains, her observations of their rugged beauty, and her literary skills to muse on the philosophical and spiritual offerings from mountains. She wrote of the Cairngorms as “friends” that she “visits”, and with whom her imagination is fired as if “touched by another mind.”

 Nan Shepherd completed her book in the summer of 1945, and sent her manuscript to a novelist friend. He cautioned that it may be hard to find a publisher of a book of this nature. Nan put the manuscript away in a drawer where it remained for 30 years. Towards the end of her life, Nan retrieved the manuscript from her drawer and felt that it still resonated in many ways. Given her long association with Aberdeen University, she submitted it to Aberdeen University Press. The Living Mountain was finally published in 1977.

The Living Mountain threaded together, beautifully geography, geology, history and philosophy, along with everything that she herself had experienced in the mountains that she had fallen deeply in love with. For Shepherd, the mountains were living beings, and her book describes how she nurtured her relationship with them by walking. She wholeheartedly believed that only through walking and experiencing could insight be gained. “The more one learns of this intricate interplay of soil, altitude, weather, and the living tissues of plant and insect … the more the mystery deepens.”

The Living Mountain, continues to be timeless, since its publication 30 years after Nan Shephard wrote it. It provides a rare lens into a world that has been viewed mainly through the eyes of male climbers, who focus on the challenges, and the conquests. Nan Shepherd’s lens is that of a naturalist and poet, one of contemplation, reverence, and an exploration of the profound. The book suggests that the summit should not be the organizing principle of a mountain; it urges the practice of not walking “up” a mountain, but rather “into” them, so as to explore not just the physical forms but also ourselves, peering into the nooks and crannies.

Today, mountains across the world are facing their own challenges. Climate change is melting glaciers and distorting landscapes; the surge of climbers are leaving behind manmade mountains of garbage that threaten to bury the real mountains. This is a good time to remember The Living Mountain, and a mountain lover who looked beyond the ascents to the journeys within.

–Mamata Pandya

Of Tongues: Tied and Twisted

Many of us have student-day memories of freezing up in the middle of an elocution competition, or as adults, not being able to converse comfortably when in a large group of people. We were told that had become “tongue-tied”. The dictionary defines this state as being ‘too shy or embarrassed to speak’.

More recently I was introduced to another, more literal, form of tongue tie. This is a medical condition where a tight band of tissue connects the underside of the tongue to the floor of the mouth, keeping it from moving freely. Nowadays, paediatricians usually check for this in new born babies, and a minor surgical procedure can cut the tight tissue to allow for a free movement of the tongue. While this is not a mandatory nor critical issue, sometimes this restrictive movement of the tongue could hamper the baby from proper breast feeding, and could (though not definitely) be an impediment to speech as the child begins to speak.

This was not a condition that I was familiar with, and I suspect that many adults have grown up unaware about this. At best, these were labelled as people with speech impediments, and either lived with it through their life, or were sent to speech therapists. Perhaps one of the exercises that they were prescribed, was to recite aloud some phrases that had alliteration, rhymes, and repetition. Speech therapists believe that such exercises help to strengthen the muscles that are used when we speak. The muscles of the mouth need to move in certain positions to create individual sounds. Tongue twisters help practice and strengthen these positions and muscles in order to perfect these sounds. 

Even without being guided by a therapist, many of us have childhood memories of getting our tongues in a twist with these lines:

She sells seas shells on the seashore

The shells she sells are seashells, I’m sure

So if she sells seashells on the seashore

Then I’m sure she sells seashore shells.

No wonder such lines were described as ‘’tongue twisters”. Such phrases have been part of the oral tradition in all cultures since early times. In ancient Russia travelling performers called skomorokhi would amuse crowds by reciting fast tricky lines and challenging the audience to repeat these. Most people couldn’t and their fumbling attempts raised a laugh from the others. Folklore in all languages has examples of such nonsense rhymes that need an acrobatic tongue to master.

In fact even today, performers use tongue twisters to loosen up before they are scheduled to go on stage. These help them warm up and get their mouth and tongues ready to perform in front of an audience. Tongue twisters are also used by voice actors before they are recorded.

The term tongue twister is believed to have appeared in print in the late 19th century to describe phrases that are difficult to articulate due to their use of similar but distinct sounds. In the English language these gained attention with the publication of a book called Peter Piper’s Practical Principles of Plain and Perfect Pronunciation, which included a tongue twister for every letter of the alphabet. The book was meant to help children learn the fundamentals of speech mechanics, but it attracted a lot of attention. The title itself garnered curiosity. The author of the book was John Harris, who then was the Peter Piper? The mystery was heightened with the inclusion of the rhyme:

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.

A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked.

If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,

Where’s the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?

It turns out that this one was based on a French horticulturist Pierre Poivre. Pierrre is the French version of Peter, and Poivre is the French word for pepper. Pierre, it is believed, was exploring the viability of growing spices in the Seychelles. Thus the peppers, and the peck which was an old measure of weight.

Tenuous connections, at best, but they do add some spice to the story!

While tongue twisters are accepted as a part of speech therapy, people enjoy these just for the fun of fumbling and stumbling over words in absurd sentences. So much so that there is even a day designated as the International Tongue Twister Day celebrated on the second Sunday in November every year. And there is an International Tongue Twister Contest held at the Logic Puzzle Museum in Burlington, Wisconsin in the USA. First held in 2008, the contest has become an annual tradition. This invites everyone between the ages of ‘6 and 106 years of age’ to test their verbal dexterity. A joyful celebration of the playful side of language!

At the same time there is also serious research being carried out on this subject. A team of researchers from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) have deemed that the most difficult tongue twister in the world is this one:

“Pad kid poured curd pulled cod”.

If one is not quite up to the challenge of cracking this one, here are some others to twist our tongues around:

“The sixth sick sheik’s sixth sheep’s sick.”

“Imagine an imaginary menagerie manager managing an imaginary menagerie.”

“A tutor who tooted the flute tried to teach two young tooters to toot. Said the two to the tutor, ‘Is it harder to toot, or to tutor two tooters to toot?’”

Don’t let these leave you tongue-tied!

–Mamata

A Fool of Fruits

This morning my sisters suddenly remembered our mother’s (who had a great sweet tooth) fondness for Mango Fool. This brought back so many memories of the many sweet dishes that we used to have at home, which included lots of sugary syrupy Indian sweetmeats, as well as the more subtle English ones such as custard and pies. Our combined memories recall that Mango Fool was some form of thick milk shake. Turns out that the real Mango Fool is a more sophisticated desert that includes mangoes, and whipped cream. And, of course, so many years later, the memory nudged me to dig deeper into investigating the curious name of this dessert.

As it turns out ‘Fools’ of the fruity variety have ancient origins and a rich history. Fruit fool is a classic English dessert. Traditionally, fools were made by folding a stewed fruit (originally gooseberries) into a creamy, sweet custard. The documented origins of the desert can be traced back to the 17th century, although it is believed that some form of this existed as far back as the 15th century.

The earliest known recipe is from the time of the Merry Monarch, King Charles II in a book called The Compleat Cook published in 1665, written by an anonymous author ‘Mr WM’. The recipe was for what he called Gooseberry Foole. The recipe included cooked, mashed, and strained gooseberries, which are beaten with sugar, butter, and eggs to form a pudding-like consistency.

Take your gooseberries and put them in a silver or earthen pot, and set it in a skillet of boiling water, and when they are coddled enough, strain them; when they are scalding hot beat them well with a good piece of butter, rose-water and sugar, and put in the yolk of two or three egg, you may put rose-water into them, and so stir it altogether and serve it to the table when it is cold.  Anonymous.  London.  1658.

The recipe endured through the ages, and was almost no change in the one included 250 years later in the Victorian era cookbook The Art Of Cookery Made Easy and Refined.

But why the name Foole? The most popular theory to explain this is that the term comes from the old French term ‘fouler’ which meant to mash or crush. And this is what the recipe demands—that the cooked fruit be crushed or pressed before being folded into the custard mixture. In those days most fruits were cooked, because people thought that raw fruits were dangerous for health.

Another theory points out to the fact that it was an unpretentious dessert which ended a meal, just as a trifle did. Fool was another term for a syllabub or trifle (something of little value). As an etymological dictionary explained Fool is ‘a reallocation of a word for something light-headed or frivolous as a light dessert’. Perhaps these desserts were literally lighter than the stodgy traditional English desserts like Sticky Toffee Pudding, Steamed Syrup Sponge, Jam Roly-Poly, and Suet Pudding.  

Whatever the theory, gooseberry remained a favoured fruit for this dessert, and the Gooseberry Fool was a popular dessert for many years. So popular that Edward Lear even incorporated it into a limerick in his A Book of Nonsense published in 1846.

There was an Old Person of Leeds,
Whose head was infested with beads;
She sat on a stool,
And ate gooseberry fool,
Which agreed with that person of Leeds.

Over time, other seasonal fruits such as strawberries, raspberries, apples, apricots, and cherries, also began to be incorporated in the recipe. Also, the custard was replaced by whipped cream which made it lighter. The combination of fresh fruit and frothy cream, served chilled, makes for a refreshing summer treat.

The ‘Fool’ part was also incorporated in the names of other desserts.

Norfolk Fool as an early type of bread and butter pudding dating back to the 17th century. It included creamy custard, dates and spices.

Westminster Fool was a sweet custard with a flavouring of rose, mace and nutmeg, poured over a penny loaf cut into six slices, soaked in sherry. (Maybe the inspiration for our own Shahi Tukra, or inspired by it!)

Boodles Fool was named after Boodle’s Club, a private exclusive gentlemen’s club founded in 1762. Ironically, in the very class-conscious British society, the club was named after its head waiter Edward Boodle! His namesake dessert featured a citrus (orange and lemon) mixture whipped with cream, poured over sponge cake, served chilled, decorated with orange slices.  

Whatever the ingredients and recipe, Fruit Fools provided for a delicious finale to a meal. Today these continue to be popular as cool summer desserts. Where my mother picked up the concept and term is a mystery lost in time, and so is the actual form of her version, but the name Mango Fool is closely associated with our childhood memories of sweltering hot Delhi summers.

–Mamata

Birdwoman Jamal Ara

12 November marks the birthday of Salim Ali the Birdman of India. Much has been written and published by, and about, Salim Ali. However very little is known about a young woman who was recognized as the first Bird Woman of India by Salim Ali himself. This was Jamal Ara, a path breaker in more ways than one.

Jamal Ara was born in 1923 in Barh, Bihar, in a conservative Muslim family. She could study only until class ten before she was married off at a young age, much against her wishes. She moved to Calcutta with her husband where a daughter, Madhuca, was born. Sadly her marriage broke down, leaving her in dire straits. Fortunately a cousin who was in the Forest Service in Bihar, came to her aid and Jamal and her daughter moved to Ranchi. As a forest officer, her cousin was posted to different forest divisions of Bihar, and Jamal often accompanied him on his trips. This sparked in her a great love for wildlife, and Jamal would spend hours observing the flora and fauna in her surroundings. The English wife of a senior forest officer encouraged her to keep notes of her observations, and helped her to hone her writing skills. As her proficiency grew, they also encouraged her to turn her notes into articles and send them for publication.

Jamal Ara spent many years doing extensive field work in what is now Jharkhand, and her study of birds in the Chota Nagpur plateau was comprehensive and detailed. She meticulously documented her observations, and wrote prolifically from 1949 to 1988.  She contributed over 60 papers and articles to the journals of the Bombay Natural History Society and Bengal Natural History Society. She could communicate equally well with a lay audience. She wrote for The Newsletter for Birdwatchers, which was popular with amateur as well as seasoned birdwatchers, and also a book for children, Watching Birds which was published by National Book Trust, and translated into many Indian languages. I remember this book as being one of my own early introductions to nature study.

Jamal Ara was a multi-faceted writer. She wrote fiction, translated stories, and worked as a journalist for a short time. She also did programmes for All India Radio. Jamal Ara was also much more than a birdwatcher. She saw birds as an integral part of a healthy ecosystem, and advocated for a balanced conservation approach, something that was not common in an age when shikar was also a popular pastime.

After such an intense involvement in ornithology, and a prolific contribution to the field, in 1988, Jamal Ara suddenly vanished from the Indian ornithology scene. Her contributions stopped, and she herself disappeared. It is believed that a series of personal losses and setbacks affected her badly. She stopped writing, and after a few years also burnt her notes and photographs. She died in 1995.

Gradually Jamal Ara’s name and contributions sunk into oblivion. She would have been lost to the history of Indian conservation if not for a young researcher Raza Kazmi, who stumbled upon a story by Madhuca Singh, a celebrated basketball coach of Ranchi who mentioned Jamal Ara, her mother, who was a great bird lover. Raza Kazmi was intrigued by this mysterious bird lover, and embarked on a search for this woman and her work. After chasing numerous leads, he finally connected with Madhuca who shared her mother’s story.

It is thanks to Raza Kazmi’s single-minded pursuit, and the publication of Jamal Ara’s story in the book Women in the Wild edited by Anita Mani published in 2023, that we can join in celebrating this enigmatic, but brilliant bird woman of India.

It is also heartening that whatever had remained of Jamal Ara’s original work has been collected and digitized as part of the Archives at NCBS, a public centre for the history of science in contemporary India. The Jamal Ara Collection has archival papers relating to her life and work from 1940s to 1980s, including correspondence, unpublished manuscripts, field diaries and notebooks, and drafts of articles.

This week, as we celebrate Salim Ali, as well as Jamal Ara, both passionate bird watchers, here are a few words from them that remind us of the simple joys of bird watching.

”A bird’s song is a sound that touches the soul; it reminds us of the beauty of nature that we must protect. For me, birds have always been the greatest source of joy and inspiration.”  Salim Ali

“Even if you are not a birdwatcher and are not even faintly interested in them you cannot barricade yourself successfully against fugitive but striking impressions that the sight of a bird invariably leaves. The impression is not altogether fleeting although the sight may have been. It persists in memory. Colour, song, manner of flight, the build or some aspect of physiognomy may have thrust itself into your consciousness and nestles there pleasantly. That is why there is no person entirely uninterested in birds. Most persons are unattentive but a few helps to their stored memories and they start taking an interest in birds. They become attentive and surprise themselves by evolving into birdwatchers.” Jamal Ara 

–Mamata

Riding High on the Waves: Women Pirates

This week Meena wrote about Bungaree the first Aboriginal man to circumvent the continent of Australia. His feat was amazing not only because he was the first to undertake the journey but also because he was from an indigenous tribe, in an era when sailors and adventurers were white men. Bungaree broke the mold in more ways than one, but always remained in the footnotes of the history of sailing.

There is another group that has been in a similar position in this context—women sailors. According to traditional sailing superstition, it was believed that having women on board ships could anger the Gods and lead to misfortune such as storms and shipwrecks. It was also felt that the presence of women on board would be a distraction to sailors and lead to fights and disruptions. In fact seafaring professions were officially barred to women until the 20th century. But maritime history has its own set of tales about spunky women who rode the waves over the earlier centuries, in many cases disguised as men, but also openly and boldly. The most fascinating of these are some of the women pirates who defied every established norm of the day.

Zheng Yi Sao: Queen of the South China Seas

Zheng Yi Sao is described as the most successful female pirate in history. Born in 1775 into humble circumstances, she married the notorious pirate captain Zheng Yi, but on her own terms. She demanded equal partnership in his pirate fleet—an unprecedented and audacious demand. Zheng Yi was agreeable, and she took on the name Zheng Yi Sao (wife of Zheng Yi).

After her husband died when she was 32, Sao took control of his pirate fleet and transformed it into an unstoppable force in the South China Sea. She knew the coastline better than any imperial admiral, using hidden inlets and storm-lashed coves to evade capture. Sao was not just a skilled seafarer, she was a brilliant and brutal administrator. Her fleet was governed by a strict code of conduct:

Loot was divided fairly, with captains receiving a smaller share than their crew to ensure widespread loyalty. Female captives were to be treated with respect, and could only be taken as wives with mutual consent. Rape was punishable by immediate execution. All plundered goods had to be presented for group inspection, all captured goods were registered, and the punishment for disobedience was often beheading. Perhaps her most revolutionary approach was for other women within her fleet. The wives and widows of pirates were encouraged to take on leadership roles, creating an unprecedented situation where women held genuine authority in a violent, male-dominated world.

Zheng Yi Sao reigned supreme with an armada of over 300 ships and a crew of 20,000 to 40,000 pirates. Her fleet successfully defeated the navy of the ruling Qing dynasty, and even the ruling government could not destroy her power. Zheng Yi Sao’s power stemmed not just from ruthlessness and brute force, she was equally a strategic planner and shrewd negotiator. Recognizing that prolonged conflict would eventually erode her power she negotiated a surrender with the government, once again, on her own terms. She secured full amnesty for herself and almost all her crew, the right to keep her accumulated wealth; military positions for many of her top commanders.

Zheng Yi Sao eventually retired with all her loot, and continued to lead a civilian life for the next several decades. However she has gone down in the annals as the most successful pirate of all times. 

Sayyida al Hurra: Pirate Queen of the Mediterranean

Sayyida al Hurra was not just a pirate; she was a queen, a refugee, a warrior and a power broker of the 16th century Mediterranean. She was born in 1485 in a family of Andalusian nobles, but forced to flee to Morocco. While in exile there Sayyida rose to become Governor of a vital port city on the North African coast. Once in power, she decided to avenge Spain and Portugal, not through politics or war, but through piracy. She forged a strategic alliance with Barbarossa an Ottoman admiral and pirate, and together they controlled the seas, he in the east and she in the west.

Sayyida was more than a pirate commander; she was also a skilled diplomat and ruler. She negotiated directly with European monarchs, wielding influence usually denied to women of her era. She even married the Sultan of Morocco and insisted the wedding take place in her city, making her the only woman in Islamic history to have married a reigning monarch without leaving her seat of power. Thus Sayyida established rule over both land and sea, a rarity in history.

 Laskarina Bouboulina: The Pirate Admiral of Greek Independence

Laskarina Bouboulina was born defiant. Her father was a naval captain and rebel who had been imprisoned by the Ottomans. Laskarina was born in a prison cell in Constantinople in 1771, where her mother had gone to visit her imprisoned husband. After her father’s death Laskarina and her mother moved to the island of Spetses. This was no idyllic Mediterranean village, but a haven for smugglers, sailors and rebels who had fled conventional authority. The young Laskarina grew up among pirates and ship’s captains, learning about the language of the sea and sailing ships even before she could read.

By the time she was 40, Laskarina was married and widowed twice, to powerful ship owners, and inherited their fleets and fortunes. She used these resources not just for commerce but to fight the Ottoman Empire. She became a member of Filiki Eteria a secret organisation plotting to overthrow Ottoman control over Greece. Her main role was to smuggle food, weapons and ammunition into Spetses. She used her wealth to commission the construction of Agammennon, her personal warship, considered to be one of the largest and fastest Greek warships of the revolution. She commanded the rest of her fleet from this warship. Spetses was the first island to revolt against the Ottoman Empire in 1821. Laskarina then led her fleet to begin a naval blockade of the fortified city of Nafpoli, followed by the siege of other cities.  

Throughout the battle against the Ottomans, Laskarina conducted her spirited resistance with a mix of strategy, ruthless power and charisma. She was fierce, but an inspiring leader who commanded the respect of the men who willingly joined her battle. Ironically, she was killed in a family feud.

These swashbuckling buccaneers ruled the waves, broke every rule written for women, and rewrote history at sea.

–Mamata

 

 

WASTE NOT WANT NOT: WORLD THRIFT DAY

The First International Thrift Congress was held in Milan, Italy from 26 to 31 October 1924.  It was attended by over 300 delegates from 27 countries, who shared a vision: to promote savings as a key to financial security and independence. This was a period following the First World War which was marked by financial instability, and loss of confidence in banks. Banks were adopting a variety of measures and incentives to encourage people to deposit savings in banks in order to secure some stability for future uncertainties. In fact the word savings itself originates from the early 14th century, symbolizing ‘salvat’ a way to protect oneself from life’s uncertainties.  

On the last day of the conference one of the organizers Professor Filippo Ravizza proposed that there should be an annual International Savings Day or Thrift Day, as a reminder of the importance of saving, and to foster the habit of saving. It was unanimously agreed that this should be marked on 31 October. The informal symbol chosen to represent World Savings Day was the piggy bank.

Over a hundred years later, World Thrift Day continues to remind about the value of saving. Taken in a broader context, the word ‘thrift’ implies more than just accumulating coins in a piggy bank, or money accrued in savings accounts and deposits in banks. It refers to the prudent management of one’s resources. It is the opposite of extravagance and waste. It encompasses the philosophy and practice of moderation, conserving, and economizing.

Perhaps there is no better example of a life led by these principles than Mahatma Gandhi. For Gandhiji thrift was not just a habit of saving money; it was an ethical and philosophical principle which guided every aspect of his life. For him, the most direct application of this was in the frugal use of resources in one’s daily life. While his own lifestyle reflected this in every moment of his daily routine, he also expected that the people who lived in his ashram do the same.

There are several anecdotes recalled by his colleagues and ashram inmates that illustrate this.

Kishorelal Mashruwala started working with Gandhiji from the time that Gandhiji returned to India from South Africa, and continued to be closely associated with him for the rest of his life. He recounted some incidents.

‘One of my young nephews lived with me at Sabarmati. He once tore his clothing during play and then went straight to Bapu’s room. Bapu saw the torn condition of the cloth, and when he saw my wife later he showed his displeasure at it. He said: “One need not be ashamed of clothes repaired with sewing or patches. Poverty in itself is not a matter for shame. But there is no excuse for a person to put on unmended or dirty clothes. A cloth must be repaired as soon as it is torn, and washed if it has become dirty”.

It is well known that Gandhiji never threw away a used envelope or telegraph form that was blank on the reverse. He would collect these and convert them into scribbling pads, to be used on the day of his silence, or to write drafts of his articles and important letters, or, sometimes, to write notes to be left for others, or sent to them. Mashruwala recalled this: ‘I may also mention a habit which I developed under his influence. It is that of preserving and using bits of paper written on one side, wrappers on book-post packets etc., and used envelopes. Perhaps the instinct of thrift was inherent in me, and it got encouragement by his example.’ 

Kamlaben Patel came to stay in Sabarmati Ashram with her father when she was a young girl. Every inmate was expected to participate in all tasks from cleaning, washing, cooking, and spinning; and every resource was to be used with respect and frugality. She recalled one incident.

‘One day Bapu was passing by the store when the goods were being unloaded. He stopped and enquired how much soap had come. The soap that we all used was round and white but hard as stone, and the cheapest one that was available. The next day after the women’s prayer Bapu enquired about how much soap was used by each family. From their replies it was calculated that the cost of soap for each person was from 75 paise to one rupee. Bapu proposed that the use of soap be reduced. The women frankly told Bapu that any reduction in use was not possible as the soap was used to wash thick white khadi clothes, sheets, pillow covers, and mattress covers. Bapu said that “you all know that the Ashram runs on the donations of people. We claim to be servants of the people. Three hundred people live in the Ashram, and if each one used one rupee worth of soap, what will our donors feel about 300 rupees being spent on soap every month? Even in the days when there was no soap, our clothes were clean were they not? You must consider reduction in soap use.” After a lot of discussion the women agreed to use 50 paise worth of soap each month. Bapu proposed 37 paise. The women said they would respond after more thought. The prayer meeting dispersed. The women reconvened and after considering all options, unanimously decided to inform Bapu that it was not possible to do with less than 50 paise worth of soap per person, and remain firm on this decision. After the prayer Bapu jokingly said that the women’s ultimatum was like the Viceroy’s ultimatum. He would go to Bardoli to provide an answer to the latter, but he bowed to the women’s ultimatum, and accepted their 50 paise demand.’ 

These insistencies may seem as if Gandhiji was bothering over trifles, but for him such thrift was not simply a habit of saving money, but a practice of core principles connected to self-sufficiency, non-violence and social justice.

He believed that self-sufficiency through Swadeshi was not just an economic protest against foreign goods but a practical lesson in self-reliance and dignity of labour.  He emphasized the respect for resources (material and human) that went into creating any product. He believed that wasting or careless use of any product was to disrespect the person who made it.

These were some of the pillars of Gandhiji’s concept of ‘trusteeship’, a principle that suggested that rich individuals should not see their wealth as their own to squander but as a trust held for the benefit of society, especially the poor. He believed that wealth beyond one’s basic needs should be used for the public good. 

Gandhiji believed that genuine happiness lay in contentment, not in endless satisfaction of demands. He encouraged individuals to voluntarily reduce their wants, arguing that this would lead to a more satisfying life and a more peaceful society.

These ideas are best summed up in Gandhihji’s maxim that ‘The world has enough for everyone’s need, but not for everyone’s greed’. He believed that the world naturally produces enough to satisfy the needs of every person, but insatiable wants lead to exploitation and environmental ruin.

World Thrift Day is a thus not simply a reminder of saving for a rainy day, but a promotion of a way of life that values and respects all resources and their wise use.

–Mamata

Operation Cat Drop: Borneo to Cyprus

As an environmental educator there was a popular story that we used to illustrate how everything is connected, and how one step can sometimes have a chain of unanticipated consequences that disturb the delicate balance of nature. The story goes thus:

In the early 1950s, there was a severe outbreak of malaria amongst the Dayak people in Borneo. The World Health Organization tried to solve the problem. They sprayed large amounts of a chemical called DDT to kill the mosquitoes that carried the malaria. The mosquitoes died and there was less malaria. That was good. However, there were side effects. One of the first effects was that the roofs of people’s houses began to fall down on their heads. It turned out that the DDT was also killing a parasitic wasp that ate thatch-eating caterpillars. Without the wasps to eat them, there were more and more thatch-eating caterpillars. Worse than that, the insects that died from being poisoned by DDT were eaten by gecko lizards, which were then eaten by cats. The cats started to die, the rats flourished, and the people were threatened by outbreaks of two new serious diseases carried by the rats, sylvatic plague and typhus. To cope with these problems, which it had itself created, the World Health Organization had to parachute live cats into Borneo. Operation Cat Drop as it was called, air dropped a number of cats (numbers range from 20 to 1400!) into the region. This step was visualized as the initiation of a reverse cycle that could restore the chain of predator-prey, wherein the cats would feed on the rats which were posing the public health challenge.  The story did not continue to describe the new consequences of this step.

I remembered this story when I read a recent report where the problem and not the solution has started with cats!

This is on the small island nation of Cyprus in the eastern corner of the Mediterranean where currently cats outnumber the local human population!

Cyprus has a long history associated with cats. It is believed that cats were first domesticated in Ancient Egypt. But archaeological discoveries of cat remains close to human burial sites in sites in Cyprus dating back around 9500 years ago indicate that the interactions between humans and cats may have started here much earlier. It is speculated that cats must have been introduced to the island from the mainland, and there are several stories about this. One legend states that in AD 328 Saint Helena, a Roman Empress began construction on a monastery on the island. At that time a terrible drought afflicted the area, people fled and snakes proliferated. Helena got boatloads of cats shipped over from Egypt and established them in the area to destroy the snakes. The monastery was built, but also destroyed later and subsequently rebuilt several times. But the cats remained and thrived, and established themselves as an unofficial sub-breed known as the Cyprus Cat.

There is still a monastery, St. Nicholas of the Cats, that is believed to have been founded by St. Helena and where there are some cats which are purported to be the descendants of the original cats! The monastery has a tradition of taking in any stray cat brought to them in honour of the centuries of service of the felines. Cyprus itself is an island of cat nurturers where cat food dispensaries and other cat services are a common sight. This has also added to its tourist attractions (albeit for cat lovers!).

Cyprus Cats are part of the island’s identity; they are an example of how ecology, cultural history and animal love intersect. But they are also an example of how too much of a good thing can be counterproductive.

With the passage of time, no outside interference, and favourable conditions, the cat population on the island continued to grow. Unchecked breeding, especially in urban areas has now turned into an explosion of feral cats. The cats now outnumber humans. And that is a matter of concern for the civic authorities. Given cats’ predatory nature, a larger than sustainable population has the potential to wreak havoc with the island’s ecosystem. The feral cats threaten local wildlife, they become urban traffic hazards as they scavenge for food in the populated areas, and they themselves carry threat of diseases which could spread rapidly if there is an outbreak. Without sustainable measures the situation can reach an irreversible point. And ecologists are concerned that this point is close.

In recent years there have been programmes to control the cat population through sterilization, but the numbers have now exceeded manageable limits. The civic authorities feel the effective control and management of the issue needs huge funding, as well as a concerted effort which includes the active participation of NGOs, national as well as international animal welfare organisations, volunteers, the general public, as well as the tourists.

While the parachuted cats of the Borneo story became the saviours of the moment, it would be interesting to go back and review whether the cats, in turn, impacted the ecosystem. Meanwhile the Cyprus Cats continue to challenge the fragile balance.

–Mamata