What keeps me going…

 

What keeps me going today, is the belief that when I need the strength to face a challenge, I will find it.

 

I would never have thought, years ago, that I would find the strength to face the loss of my brother and my father.

 

But I did. As I did when I had to face other challenges at home and at work.

 

We always find the strength to fight when we need it most. In our darkest hour.

 

And that to me is the triumph of the human spirit.

 

This is the only thing keeping me going today — when I need it, I will find the strength. And you will, too.

 

Sooner than later, we will emerge from this. Not all, but most of us.

 

And my only wish is that those of us that do, appreciate what we have a little more than we used to.

 

Because it is now that I realise how lucky I am to have what I do.

Are Humans Naturally Kind? Or Are They Intrinsically Selfish?

 

Is human nature innately good? Are we born kind and generous and forgiving? In these times of the Coronavirus, do you see more of kindness or selfishness in humans?

 

Anton Chekov said, “Man will become better when you show him what he is like.” Do you think we need more examples (in the media) of human decency to sensitize us into being dignified and altruistic? Is our present-day conditioning responsible for our cynicism that people are primarily selfish?

 

Rutger Bregman, a Dutch Historian, in Humankind: A Hopeful History, believes that humans have become conditioned to expecting the worst from others. He holds Western thought and ideas responsible for tinting our lenses with a dark shade of cynicism.

 

The writings of Machiavelli to Thomas Hobbes to Adam Smith, and from Freud to Dawkins espouse a belief that humans are naturally guided by self-interest. But Bregman makes a case for the innate goodness in humans. He sides with Jean-Jacques Rousseau and blames the ‘structures of civilisation’ for making humans self-centred.

 

How does he go about it? Bregman scours the pages of history, and adopts a multidisciplinary approach drawn from the social and political science. He takes on philosophers, historical events, scientific studies and everything in between to build his narrative. He presents us with a plethora of examples.

 

He digs up WWI military records to show that soldiers were sometimes reluctant to fire their guns and even deliberately missed their targets. And how soldiers on both sides celebrated Christmas during a spontaneous ceasefire in 1914.

 

He recounts the story of a group of boys who survived on a deserted Pacific island and lived in harmony. This is in contrast to William Golding’s savage protagonists of Lord of the Flies.

 

Bregman compares Norway’s prisons that treat inmates like people, allowing them to work, play and make music, with those in America. The result: Norway has the lowest recidivism rate in the world.

 

So, does Bregman succeed in his quest? He does make an uplifting case for human decency but countless other questions spring to our minds. That’s the best a book can do; provoke us into asking more questions.

The Legend of the Magnificent Adalaj Stepwell

 

I was in Ahmedabad last month to see the 4th Test Match between England and India. England’s abysmal performance against the Indian spinners brought the match to an early conclusion, inside of three days. This fortuitous turn of events allowed me a spot of local sightseeing, and led me to a small village called Adalaj.

 

 

Adalaj is home to one of the finest stepwells in India. So, what exactly is a stepwell? Open stepwells are essentially uncovered stepped ponds, built in semi-arid regions of western India to collect rainwater (and groundwater) for a temple or community. While most of the structures are utilitarian in construction some of them have architectural embellishments that can rival any palace or public memorial.

 

 

In Gujarat these ponds or tanks care called vav or baoli, as in Adalaj Ni Vav. Probably, the baths of Mohenjo-daro and Harappa are their true predecessors. Their original purpose was to be a perennial source of water for drinking, washing and bathing. Over time they gravitated to village gathering place, festival venue, or caravanserais along trade routes. Still later, they became objects of benefaction, made by the rich for the poor, to wash away sins, or balance the karmic ledger, or even buy immortality. That’s when function turned to privilege and utilitarian turned to flamboyant.

 

 

The Adalaj  structure is dug five storeys deep, intricately carved and trellis ornamented at every level, with oriel windows, light and air vents, resting rooms and open-to-sky octagonal well shaft. Though built in the Solanki style of architecture, Islamic floral motifs blend with Hindu and Jain symbolisms, and scenes from everyday life are carved on the walls.

 

The legend of this tale is fascinating. The Hindu ruler of Dandai Desh, Veer Singh, began the construction of the stepwell in 1499 AD. He died in battle, when attacked by the neighbouring Muslim ruler, Mohammed Begda. The dowager, the beautiful Rani Roopba (Rudabai), was committed to Sati, but love-besotted Begda proposed marriage. She agreed, conditional upon the stepwell’s completion. Once that was achieved Rani Roopba jumped into the well. The Adalaj is also known as the Rudabai Stepwell.

Mui Ne: Vietnam’s Hidden Jewel By The Sea

Mui Ne is a beach resort town along the South China Sea in Southeast Vietnam. With a long, palm-lined stretch of sand, it has steady wind conditions (in the dry season) that make it a top destination for windsurfing, kitesurfing, sailing and other water sports. It’s also a popular weekend getaway from Ho Chi Minh City, with a busy strip of hotels, restaurants and shops.

 

I was excited to board the early morning train from Saigon to Phan Thiet, the access point to Mui Ne. Once we crossed the Saigon River and sped past colonies of closely-packed settlements, we were scurrying through a cornucopia of plantations: coffee, banana, sugar cane, mangoes and rice fields.

 

After reading a few pages of a book, I tottered over to the dining car towards the rear of the train. It was romantic to be in a dining car, indubitably a colonial luxury: the noodles in broth and sweetened Vietnamese coffee cost me next to nothing, and was delectable.

 

 

From Phan Thiet City I took a ferry to my hotel in Mui Ne. This coastal area has 15 miles of beaches, and while the white sand at Ca Na is exquisite, the beach at the Fishing Village is compacted with the discarded shells of harvested crustaceans since time immemorial.

 

Binh Thuan, Vietnam - January 21st, 2016: Woman with shoulder alignment is waiting for fishermen to bring the beach to buy fish for sale in the morning market in the fishing village of Binh Thuan, Vietnam

 

You can haggle for fresh catch, buy fish sauce (this place produces around 17 million litres of the best fish sauce in Vietnam), or look out at the bay where spectacular sunsets cajole the evening breeze to gently nudge an armada of yellow, blue and reds boats to sleep. If you can get up at 4am you can watch the boats head out again, and watch the sunrise over turquoise waters along foam-flecked white sand beaches.

 

The area from Phan Thiet to Mui Ne is a geographic anomaly. It has mountains, rivers, and sand dunes, all squeezed into a narrow band from the coastline. It’s the only desert in South East Asia, with low rainfall and cool ocean breezes, which makes for a great tourist destination.

 

Adjacent to town, you can walk up the Red Dunes, formed from coastal sediment. The nearby Fairy Stream, a reddish coloured creek spawned from a mix of clay, limestone, and white sand run-offs is a becalming sight.

 

 

Slightly further, the White Sand Dunes (Doi Cat) area is spectacular, and has a Saharan hue at midday. While ATVs and Quad bikes abound as tourists are at play in the sand, an oasis shows off its blue colours down a slope. I walk through a tree-lined meadow and arrive at a serene lotus pond. I think it’s a mirage but the splash of a heron’s wings remind me that I am in my senses.

Nha Trang: Where Waves of History Meet at a White Sand Beach

The coastline go into island, Nha Trang, Vietnam

 

The crescent shaped white sand beach separating the turquoise rush of waters from the curvilinear edge of Nha Trang is the takeaway shot that will remain with you. A quiet coastal nook it is not; it is a modern city rising up along a bay with high-rises and sculpted gardens hiding bistros and shopping arcades at every turn. It is more cosmopolitan than any other Vietnamese city and a popular tourist epicentre.

 

While some guidebooks call it ‘Riviera of the South China Sea’, which is a bit tacky, one cannot deny the beauty of this town located at the estuary of the Cai River. The blue waters harbour thriving reefs swarming with marine life, and a colony of 19 untouched islets dot the gorgeous seascape.

 

Thap ba Ponagar. Nha Trang, Vietnam

 

What provides Nha Trang some historical gravitas is the Po Nagar Cham Towers temple, built between the 8th and 13th centuries. It is a reminder of the independent land of the Kauthara, a Champa kingdom, which ruled southern Vietnam for much of its early history. Po, the goddess of the temple has ten arms, an obvious throwback to the Hindu goddess Durga. The brick architecture is simply beautiful.

 

 

 

I took a short bus ride to the nearby Long Son Pagoda, founded in the late 19th century. Colourful dragon-heads, made from glass and ceramic, welcome you. I did not climb 152 steps to the statue of Buddha seated on a lotus; this giant white statue can be seen from almost anywhere.

 


I visited the Thap Ba Hot Spring Center for a mud bath. The mineral laden mud is warm, but quite thin and silken to the touch, and a 45-minute dip is quite rejuvenating. Singular tubs, or larger enclosures are available for gambolling with friends.

 

Alexandre Yersin was a French bacteriologist who lived in Nha Trang. His home is now a museum, just beside the Pasteur Institute, which he helped found in 1895. I saw an amazing short film on his life, and scanned some letters, photographs, and scientific instruments on display. A lifelong Pasteurian, he discovered the vital plague-causing bacterium which helped bring it under control.

 

In the evening I walked along the curve of the white sand beach, all six kilometres. Only the distant swaying palms awaited my arrival.