A Search for Unity

It's been a busy Summer so far for me, and a memorable one. It started with graduation from university; I can now profess myself to be a master of all things mechanically engineered. If only. I'm still as clueless about the underside of a car bonnet as the next person. Who currently happens to be an accountant. Most poignant.

But seriously, I can't believe how quickly it has gone! It seems like only yesterday that I was moving into the halls of residence in my first year. The ups and downs of the last few years are already becoming blurry in my memory—friendship, illness, romance (shhh), pure randomness, and there was a little bit of work here and there too. I learnt a fair bit, about myself, life, people, and the consequences of traipsing about improperly clothed in the snow.

I don't miss it just yet (probably because I'm still on a very long holiday), but I suspect I will. Especially when I realise that the annual five months or so of holiday have been whittled down to a mere five weeks. Not to mention the fact that I will no longer be able to walk about with white socks and sandals on my feet at work.

Much else has happened since then. My cousin got married, in Norway. His fiancée (now wife) is Norwegian. That meant our clan, numbering about 50 (that too, trimmed at the edges), descending upon the unsuspecting Oslowegian public for a weekend. I think it's fair to say that they're not much used to dealing with a rowdy, disorganised bunch of Indians (or, to be politically and historically correct, People of Indian Origin, given that none of my family was actually born in India) in festive spirit. It's probably also fair to say that you can't ever really get used to some things.

Speaking of tying the knot, there are a few things that I learnt about weddings, and in particular weddings involving People of Indian Origin (though I'm sure the cultural connotations can quite easily be transposed to many other traditions):

• Weddings are happy and emotional occasions. Take a handkerchief. Two if you have a partner. Three if you're particularly emotional.
• Weddings are also stressful occasions. More opportune moments exist for playing practical jokes on people. This is particularly so for people who can trace their origins to the quiet little Tanzanian town of Moshi, but that's a whole nuther story.
• If you are a non-PIO marrying a PIO, expect your family to be fantastically outnumbered and out-voiced by his or her family. Hopefully you get on with them! Don't even bother trying to remember all the names.
• In many ways weddings and the adjoining celebratory events are for the benefit of the families of the couple. This is almost invariably so for the aforementioned PIOs. Too bad if you wanted a small, private affair without all the family members thrice removed attending. It's not going to happen. The sooner you reconcile yourself to this fact, the more hair you will have on your head come wedding day. I personally have in mind the perfect solution to this conundrum, which is to elope. It's cheaper, too. And let's not even talk about the cost of weddings these days.
• While I'm on about PIOs, trying to organise them to pose for group photographs requires much more than a loud voice and a prodding implement. Anger management is a worthwhile qualification. Norwegians, on the other hand, are very organised. Which is why the Norwegians had photographs taken.
• Traditional Indian attire for men really does not go with Western-style shoes. And I'm no fashion expert.
• Immediately after a wedding, the focus of attention (and of amateur match-making efforts) will shift to the next eligible bachelor or bachelorette in the family ("eligibility" being open to some interpretation). Any person to find themselves in the firing line has my deepest sympathies.

It was a lovely event, all in all, and one that I'll remember for a long time. It was also an opportunity to catch up with extended family members that I haven't seen for years, which was also wonderful.

But now I'm tired, and a random blue-screen-of-death moment has made me rewrite this once already. So I'll continue rambling some other time...

Satish Kumar's autobiography, No Destination, is a fascinating read. Born into a Jain family in India, he left home at the age of nine, after the demise of his father. Discarding all worldly possessions he became a wandering Jain monk. After several years, however, he became disillusioned with the life he had chosen, and discarded the ascetic garb. Having once renounced the world however, he was refused acceptance back into the family by his widowed mother. Kumar was forced to remain a wanderer of sorts.

The book takes us through the many other formative experiences of the author, and paints a picture of how his ideals and outlook were shaped by them. The experiences are as diverse as they are unique. In some parts the narrative tends towards a list of places and names, and events are given just a cursory mention. But it is nonetheless interspersed with beautiful insights and effused with the author's joy of living.

Ecology, environment and spirituality are the central themes of the book, as indeed they are of Kumar's life and work. His message is one of peace, love and appreciation of the sanctity of all life.

Once human consciousness has changed, once we have a new awareness of our place in the scheme of things, once we have realised that there is more to life than the unending chase for material possessions, and once we focus on the importance of being rather than having, we will see a dramatic transformation all around us.

Satish Kumar is the editor of the Resurgence magazine, and is also programme director at the Schumacher College.

A little piece by my brother Prashant, who does horse-riding with the Riding for the Disabled Association (Kenya) (www.rdakenya.com), a charity that works with disabled people from mainly underprivileged backgrounds, and aims to provide a safe and enjoyable environment where individuals with special needs benefit from developmental, therapeutic and educational equine oriented activities. Those like Prashant able to afford it pay a nominal fee for the activity, but all others are subsidised by the charity.

I started horse riding about 10 years ago because I needed therapy to help me improve. I like my riding very much because I find it fun and enjoy doing the exercises while riding. I also enjoy to go out in the fresh air.

I go for my riding once a week with my riding teacher Sue Anderson. She is a great person and she has really helped over the last 10 years to learn and enjoy riding. My horse's name is MC and he is a white horse. When I started riding I was finding it very hard to balance and do the exercises on the horse.

When I had started the riding I used to ride slowly. Now I can ride faster and show the horse which way I want to go by using my hands and also the reins. The exercises that I do on the horse are, throwing the ball and bin bags and also the ring. I also do sit ups while the horse is running. On the horse I can also do body turn from side to side and also stretch down on both sides.

At home I do a lot of cycling as that helps my balance. That has also helped me to do my riding much better.

I go for my riding lesson to a place in Karen which is in Nairobi. It takes me about half an hour to get there by car. Sometimes I have done riding in the wild when we have been to places like Lewa and Kisima in the Laikipia area of Kenya. During those rides I was getting very close to wild animals like giraffe, zebras and elephants. Once I also rode on a camel, it is different somehow than rising on a horse.

I hope to carry on riding for many years to come. Riding is fun and I hope more people can do it.

Prashant Shah, Nairobi