The Legacy of Renkoji Temple - Ashes of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose

Renkoji Temple stands in a quiet residential area in Tokyo and at first glance looks rather simple and unassuming. It seems just like one of the many neighborhood temples that dot Tokyo, till you peep inside its usually open gates. Inside, you will find a very life-like statue of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose. 

Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, the Indian revolutionary and freedom fighter had a very deep connection with Japan. Very few people know about the small but significant influence Japan had on India’s freedom struggle and the Azad Hind Fauj. 

During World War 2, In a quest to find support for a free India, Subhas Chandra Bose first traveled to Germany and then decided to ask for support from an Imperial Japan. He made the long and arduous journey from Germany to Japan in a submarine. As soon as he landed in Japan, he was granted a meeting with Prime Minister Tojo who promised him full support in his fight for India’s independence. Bose assumed the mantle of leading the Indian Independence Movement from outside India and supported by the Japanese aid and influence, proceeded to revitalize the Azad Hind Fauj (Indian National Army or INA) that was originally created using Indian soldiers who were taken prisoners of war by the Japanese during their campaign in South East Asia. The resurrected INA fought alongside the Japanese soldiers against the British forces in Burma, Imphal and Kohima and for a short while managed to turn the tide against the British.

Unfortunately, things changed with Japan’s defeat in World War 2 and on 18th August 1945, three days after Emperor Hirohito announced Japan’s unconditional surrender, Netaji boarded a plane, supposedly to escape to Manchuria. The sequence of events is somewhat clear till this point, but after this point, there are many theories. The most accepted theory is that the plane caught fire over Taipei and Netaji lost his life in the plane crash.

It is widely believed that his ashes were brought back to Japan where they were handed over to the priest at Renkoji temple for safekeeping. His ashes remain interred there to date. Besides Indian dignitaries, members of Netaji’s family have also visited the temple and Netaji’s daughter Anita Bose Pfaff has also requested the Modi government to conduct a DNA test on the ashes kept there. She along with a large fraction of people believes that her father did indeed lose his life in the plane crash. 

Image - Wikipedia

Every year, on 18th August, the purported death anniversary of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, the inner sanctum of the temple is opened to the general public and a memorial service is held inside in Netaji’s honor. Last year, I had the opportunity to visit the temple and witness the ceremony.

The Renkoji temple belongs to the Nichiren sect of Buddhism and is inspired by the Goddess of Wealth and Happiness. The alter is indeed magnificent but what makes it significant for us Indians is the huge photograph of Subhas Chandra Bose kept at a place of prominence. Beside it is a tall wooden plaque with his name written in Japanese. On that day, the alter was beautifully decorated with huge candles making the gloomy interior radiant.

wooden plaque with Netaji's name written in Japanese 

The ceremony was officiated by the head priest and Buddhist sutras were chanted for more than an hour. During the ceremony, the silence was absolute, and we were asked to respect the dignity of the occasion and not click any pictures. I was touched by the sincerity and reverence with which the Japanese pray for the soul of someone who does not belong to their country and whose ashes they just have in their safekeeping. After the prayers, we were allowed to go up to the altar and pay our respects. 

The complete altar with the chair on which the priest sat to officiate the ceremony

On the right of the altar, surrounded by incense and flowers was a small box that contained the purported ashes of Netaji. The box is usually kept inside but is brought out once a year every August 18th. 

Although the Indian Embassy in Tokyo pays for the upkeep and maintenance of the ashes, the head priest at the Renkoji temple considers it a great honor that they have been given this responsibility

The ashes 

Amongst the motley crowd of Indian visitors, you will also find a few Japanese whose families in one way or the other have been associated with Bose and the INA. When we spoke to them, they had wonderful tales to tell about Netaji’s association with their fathers and grandfathers. It was heartwarming to see how much he is still revered there and how his tales of valor have been passed on to the younger generation. 

Outside, in the temple grounds, behind the bust of Netaji are plaques carved with words from Indian dignitaries who had visited the temple, right from Rajendra Prasad, Jawaharlal Nehru, Indira Gandhi and most recently Atal Bihari Vajpayee.

The Indian government began the process of declassification of files related to Bose on 23rd January 2016, but even now the controversy continues around Netaji and whether the ashes at Renkoji are indeed his. 

All controversy aside, I find it a matter of immense pride and honor to see one of our freedom fighters remembered with such reverence outside our country. 

Song of the cicadas and other Japanese summer follies

For the Japanese, it is not spring till they have seen the first cherry blossom and it is not summer till they have heard the cicadas sing.
Normally, you would wake up with blissful silence around you till one day you are rudely shaken out of deep slumber by a sound that is similar to the sound your grandfather's ancient alarm clock made back in India. This is the cicadas tuning up for their summer concert. All through the summer, you will hear this sharp, drill-like noise till the entire island is positively vibrating with it. A sound that I loath because not only do I find the sound highly annoying but it also signifies the beginning of one season I detest the most in Japan – Summer.

The sound besides the sound of the water are the cicadas and their symphony. 

It rains non stop all through June and July and Japan is perpetually hidden behind a layer of rain and mist, making everything seem all mysterious and surreal. But as soon as August begins, the rains suddenly disappear to be replaced by clear untarnished blue skies. The sun is out in all its glory and perhaps miffed that it had to spend two months behind clouds, now shines down with a vengeance. It rises at 4.30 am and refuses to set before 7 pm making the day not only long but torturous for those who need to step out. Japan being an island does not help at all as now the hot and humid air rolls over from the Pacific so that you feel as if you are trudging through a sauna. If the sun doesn’t kill you, the humidity does.

Heat exhaustion or Natsubate is very common in Japan, but the Japanese being Japanese, have found several ingenious methods to deal with the heat.

One is the Fan. We have all seen pics of Japanese ladies daintily fanning themselves with pretty paper fans. But with technology, there has come a newer version of the good old paper fan. Come summer and shops are flooded with small battery-operated handheld fans. You can see a lot of people walking about outside while holding these fans close to their faces. I find it a bit silly and would prefer a traditional fan if I must use one, but whatever works!

Portable fans at the Tokyu Hands store

Another interesting thing are the cooling sheets. They are small methanol gel filled sheets that you can put on your forehead or on the back of your neck while you go about your work. They give you an instant cool feeling. There are also special cooling sheets you can put under the soles of your feet and on your ankles when you have been walking a lot and your feet and tired and hot.  I have tried them and now this is the first thing I stock up on as soon as summer starts. 

Another quirky Japanese invention are the sweat pads that you put under your clothing – usually around the armpits and they absorb all the sweat. Japanese deodorants are usually very mild and for the life of me, I cant understand why they would make something like these sweat pads instead of just making heavy-duty deos.

If you don’t like the idea of sticking sweat pads under your clothes there is something called the shirt spray very creatively named as 'Shirt cool'. You spray it on your clothes just before you put them on and every time you sweat the substance in the spray reacts and gives you an instant cool feeling.

All these things are displayed in shops under a sign that has a lot of ice or snow with penguins and polar bears sliding ecstatically in it. Once you see this sign you will trip over yourself in a rush to buy all the products under it so that you can feel as cool and happy as the polar bears.

Another interesting thing about Japan is the food. Every season they come up with some interesting food combinations. The flavor of summer is usually mint. Everything right from ice-cream to chocolate to cookies to coffee is mint flavored. This year even my hairstylist offered to wash my hair with a mint shampoo.

One traditional Japanese dish that I am extremely fond of eating in the summer is zaru soba. This is cold soba noodles eaten after dipping them in a light summerish soy broth. I find them very tasty and refreshing.

Besides the interesting food items and ingenious inventions to beat the heat, the saving grace in summer are the firework festivities held throughout the country. August is also the time for the Obon festival. Obon is when the ancestors are supposed to visit you and they are welcomed not only by solemn Buddhist ceremonies but feisty Obon dances. This year corona has put a dampener on all festivities. 
So, with not even the fireworks or the Obon dances to lure me outside, I shall stay indoors while the summer lasts, gorging on mint ice cream and cold soba and dreaming of October when it is pleasant once again and the leaves start turning a reddish-golden in the anticipation of autumn.  

Meiji Shrine - A Spiritual Oasis

5 am on a quiet Saturday morning found me walking towards the train station instead of lying snuggled up in bed. My plan for the day was to visit the Meiji Jingu Shrine and take a refreshing morning walk through the forest surrounding it. In the land of the rising sun, sunrise is at 4.20 am during summer and by 5 the day was already promising to be one of those hot, breathless summer days with bright blue skies and not a cloud in sight. I wanted to make the most of the day before heat and humidity drove us indoors. 

Oasis of calm in the midst of an urban jungle 

Nestled deep within lush green woods right in the heart of Tokyo, the Meiji Jingu is dedicated to the spirits of Emperor Meiji and his wife, Empress Shoken. Emperor Meiji, who reigned from 1867 till 1912 is known for the modernization of Japan and opening the country to the west.
To reach the shrine, you walk through a winding forest of thick trees that seem to form a wall of dense foliage. You can enter the forest from Yoyogi or Harajuku, both extremely busy districts, but as soon as I stepped inside, the city seemed to magically fall away. The only sound I heard was the wind rustling through the leaves. Even my footsteps seemed inordinately loud on the gravel. The serene walk through the lush green forest calms your senses and you are almost in a zen-like state by the time you reach the shrine.

After walking for about 15 minutes you reach an imposing 40-foot high torii (gate) made entirely of cypress. This is the official entrance to the shrine. A Torii is supposed to separate the spiritual world from the physical, material world. As soon as you pass under the Torii you are supposed to be in the presence of gods. 

The massive Sake barrels add a splash of color

Before you walk towards the shrine, you see an interesting sight – bright, colorful barrels of Sake or Japanese wine. Sake is also used as an offering to Gods in Japan and these barrels have been donated by Sake manufacturers from all over Japan. The Sake is used in religious ceremonies at the shrine.

A place of great spiritual aura

The main gate to the shrine is magnificent and sheer size boggles your mind.

The main shrine is inside a huge courtyard with entrances from three sides. The shrine was designed by the architect Chūta Itō and built in the traditional nagare-zukuri style using Japanese cypress. The roof of the main building is made of copper. 

Almost in front of the shrine stands two camphor trees bound together by a holy rope called Shimenawa. This is supposed to be a spot of great spiritual power. People flock here to pray for everlasting relationships and marital happiness.
The air was heavy with the fragrance of camphor. 

I had never seen a camphor tree and never knew the smell emanating from them could be so strong. It all added to the spiritual aura of the place. In the quietude of the morning, the shrine did seem to vibrate with the spiritual aura it is so famed for. 

Moving away, opposite the camphor trees is the place where people hang Ema or prayer plaques. You can buy these wooden plaques at all shrines, write your prayers and wishes on them and hang them here. 

Dignified in its austerity 

The Shrine is majestic but almost unadorned, its severe lines enlivened here and there by delicate woodwork. One would expect a shrine dedicated to an emperor to be flashy and colorful but there is great dignity in the austerity of the Meiji Shrine.

The shrine is also famous for Shinto weddings. I was too early to see an actual wedding but I did catch a bride and groom as they got ready for one.

A visit to the Inner Garden completes the experience

The Meiji Shrine is also known for its Inner Garden. The garden existed even before the shrine and Emperor Meiji and his wife were frequent visitors. The beautifully laid out garden has an arbor, a tea house that the emperor had built for Empress Shoken. 
The tea house is on a gentle slope of land, surrounded by greenery and overlooking the pond. 

The pond is a delightful place at all times and the clear blue sky, the cluster of lilies floating in the water, and the colorful carp weaving through them made a pretty picture.

Different flowers bloom all through the year, but the garden is particularly famous for its irises. The Irises were in full bloom when I visited.

With its imposing torii gates, austere yet dignified architecture, tranquil forest area, and a beautiful garden, Meiji Shrine is the epitome of Shintoism. A must

visit if you are in Tokyo. 

The Masked Japanese

The world has discovered masks now thanks to the coronavirus but the Japanese have been using them for a long long time. When the Japanese leave their house, don’t forget your mask is as common a refrain as don’t forget your keys.

When I first visited Japan, almost 15 years back, I was taken aback to see the number of people wearing masks. Outside of a hospital and besides a doctor, I had never seen anyone wearing a mask. And here were normal people, going about their daily lives– all wearing masks. I was completely bewildered.
Are they all seriously sick? I wondered. As time passed, I got used to the mask-wearing Japanese and realized it is as common as wearing glasses or a scarf. Infact the mask-making industry is a multi-million-dollar industry here.

The Japanese wear masks for various reasons– a lot of which us non-Japanese would find very difficult to comprehend.
The main reason of course is Health. A surprisingly large number of Japanese have hay fever allergy and wear the mask to avoid inhaling pollen. You will see a lot of masked faces during the pollen season. For the same reason, a lot of Japanese wear masks during the Flu season. Japan is a very densely populated country with overcrowded trains and cramped, often claustrophobic public spaces. Wearing a mask when you are packed like sardines in a train ensures that you are not breathing in any bacteria or germs that might be floating around.

But a more important reason for wearing masks is the Japanese emphasis on proper social etiquette and the concept of Enryo. Simply put, Enryo means to be considerate towards others. It can be seen in Japanese habits of not talking on the phone while inside a train or not picking up the last bit of food from the common plate in case anyone else wants to eat it. The Japanese wear masks to not only protect themselves from infections but to make sure that they don’t pass on their germs to others around them. This reminds me of the Jain monks in India. They cover their mouths so that they don’t inadvertently inhale small inspects. The meat-eating Japanese have no such qualms but they are considerate enough not wear masks so that they don’t give their germs to anyone.

It has been touted that the main reason for japan beating coronavirus is that most of the population was already wearing masks so that the spread of germs was much less. The government did not have to educate people about wearing masks. It came naturally to the Japanese and they were already taking this precaution before the government asked them to.

Another reason is more psychological. The Japanese tend to be reserved by nature and wearing a mask gives them a feeling of being socially distant from others. It also allows you to mask your expressions – the Japanese firmly believe in not letting the other person know what they are thinking through their facial expressions. Wearing a mask may also provide privacy and make you less approachable by indicating to others that you do not wish to talk or mingle with them. 

Coming from India, a country where social interactions and informality is the norm, this need for social detachment and inherent social anxiety amazed me. Even after being associated with the Japanese for a long time, interacting with people who wear masks is something I am still very uncomfortable with. It is unnerving to talk to people when you can only see their eyes and can never make out their reactions to what you are saying. 

Japanese who are always in the eye of the public also tend to wear masks to protect their privacy. There are some convenience store workers or bank employees who I would never recognize at any other place because I have never seen them without a mask. The reason could be that they want to be polite towards the customers and make sure that they are not breathing any germs on people or merchandise. But some people do it to remain incognito. 

Another reason has to do with vanity. Grooming and keeping a perfect appearance is paramount in Japan and you will rarely find a woman who is not well-groomed and without makeup. It is considered a disrespect to others if you appear before them slightly less groomed or without a perfectly made-up face. Masks are very handy if you just want to dash across the road for an errand and can't be bothered to put on some makeup. Wearing a mask hides most of your face and no one will ever get to see you au naturel. Showing their natural behavior or face is something most Japanese are not comfortable with. Masks can also be used to hide a slight imperfection – like a pimple. 

The mask seems to offer the Japanese protection both physically and psychologically. It remains to be seen if the other countries will follow Japan's cue to adapt masks or discard them as soon as the COVID scare is over.

The Golden Week that turned to brass

The first time I experienced emergency was when I was a mere babe in my mother’s arms. Indira Gandhi had declared an emergency in India to deal with political disturbances.
Now so many decades later, I face a different kind of emergency in a different country. In April, Prime Minister Abe declared an emergency in Japan to deal not with his political opponents but with the Corona Virus.

The thing is, Abe is no Indira Gandhi, and coming down with force is something that the Japanese are not good at anyway. So, this was a sort of pseudo emergency. Transport was still running and almost all businesses were open.There was no enforcement, the government just politely requested people to stay at home and avoid crowds. Surprisingly even without any strict enforcement, people actually followed instructions from their government. For an Indian like me, this in itself was something new and baffling.

Most offices declared work from home in March and I have been at home ever since. The past few months have been an interesting study on how to spend a lockdown alone.
The first few days were fun. There was no pressure to get up very early, quickly cook breakfast and lunch, and then leave for work. I could simply roll out of bed and switch on my work Laptop. All I had to was make sure my hair was neatly combed and I had a good shirt on whenever we had video calls. This fun period lasted only a few days until I started feeling like a sloth and a sense of lethargy set in. Also staying in my pajamas the whole day was not liberating. It was just depressing. Eventually from lolling about in my pajamas, I moved to the other extreme of dressing smartly every day even though I knew I was not going anywhere. I even started putting on a bit of perfume and makeup. Surprisingly it all helped.

Until now, I had loved my compact and easy to manage apartment but suddenly it started feeling highly claustrophobic and inconvenient. Earlier I just used it for sleeping and putting together quick meals but now that I was spending all my time in it, its shortcomings became all too evident. The kitchen was just too small to cook regular meals and I kept banging into my few pieces of furniture while trying to move about. There is not much you can do in a small space and pacing up and down inside the apartment didn’t help relieve boredom at all except that I now know that I can take exactly 32.5 steps in my apartment.
Soon, I was so bored that I started looking at myself in the mirror and asking aaj khaane mein kya banayun. And in response I snarled at myself because roz roz same question!
I am not a very social person and don’t always need company but after a few days with just myself, I could barely tolerate my own idiocentricities.

Japan is not like India or Spain or Italy, where neighbors will stand in their balconies and talk or cheer each other with a glass of wine and hold musical concerts. My neighbors would have found it very strange had I suddenly started talking to them after ignoring them for a better part of the year. So, I thought this is the perfect time to call my friends and family back home in India. But that was no fun at all. Half of them were in a constant hurry and a terrible mood because they were busy juggling work, family and missing their maids more than they would miss a limb. The other half were busy turning the lockdown into a productivity contest and churning up every dish from jalebis to banana cakes, doing weird fitness things like climbing their living room wall or turning into gardeners by growing everything from dhaniya patta to exotic flowers.

Busy or not, they all did have one thing to say to me -How lucky I was to be alone at this time. I had all the personal space I wanted without the entire family breathing down my neck and I just had to cook and clean for myself. Ah well, the grass being greener on the other side and all that!

The worst thing about the emergency was that it ruined the Golden week for me. Golden week is a period of five glorious continuous holidays in Japan at the end of April. I spend my entire year in anticipation of these holidays. This is a time when Japan has the perfect travel weather. Not too cold and not too hot. What numerous plans I had for the golden week and not one included staying indoors. But now I was faced with almost an entire week cooped up inside the house with nothing to do but fret and worry.

Strangely enough, it was the park near my house that eventually saved me from death from boredom or worry. Wearing a mask and armed with a sanitizer I started going for daily walks. The park not only became my place of daily exercise and rejuvenation but, now that I had more time on my hands, a delightful study of nature. I had a chance to observe the cherry trees right from when the first few buds started appearing till the trees were covered in a pink and white cloud of flowers. This experience turned out to be more enjoyable and personalized than going to a crowded tourist spot to see the cherry blossoms as I had originally planned. After the cherry blossoms came the delightful wisterias, irises, and azaleas. Every day had some new flower, some new shade of green on the leaves to look forward to and marvel at.

I used to see a lot of Japanese sitting in the park reading and some even working on the laptop. Houses are usually small in Japan and almost everyone was feeling the lack of personal space. With all cafes closed, sitting on a park bench and working seemed like a good option.

After I had moped around enough I realized what a golden opportunity this time was to just relax. For the past year, since I had moved to Japan, my life had been a frenzy of continuous activity and at times rather stressful. Here was a chance to slow down and do what I wanted, the way I wanted.
Eventually, I settled down to a quiet routine of office work through the weekdays and working on writing and reviving my long-forgotten blog over the weekends. Writing has always made me happy and it was just the perfect thing to do at this time. I also finally started going through the 100 unread books on my kindle. The most unexpected thing I did was to decide to learn how to cook some basic Japanese food. I am not too fond of cooking and this decision came as a surprise even to me. But Japanese recipes are quick and easy to cook and I could finally learn how to use those interesting looking local vegetables and herbs I saw at my grocery store.

The downtime gave me time to unwind, relax and take stock of a lot of things.
And you know what, I am not the slightest bit guilty about not learning any new skill or utilizing every moment of my time productively. I got through this emergency living on my own and with my sanity Intact. For me, that’s about enough!

Japan goes back to normal life starting Monday. Now that I am so used to my own company and solitude, I think I might just miss it!

Glories of a Japanese Spring

Most people associate spring in Japan with Cherry (Sakura) blossoms but before the cherry blossoms drive people into a flower viewing frenzy at the end of March, there comes the Plum blossom season in February. According to me, it is the Plum or Ume blossoms that truly herald spring in Japan. With colors ranging from pristine white to light pink and almost reddish the Plums looks very pretty against the clear blue of a typical Japanese winter Sky. It is still cold in Japan when the plum blossoms start to appear and they do a marvelous job of adding color to the drab leafless winter landscape.

After the long cold Japan winter seeing the first plum blossoms always fills me with happiness. The cheerful flowers seem to tell me that the air might still have a nip in it, but spring and warmer days are not too far! They remind me of a line From Shelly’s poem If Winter comes, can spring be far behind!

The Beginning of March brings a new kind of excitement. The days are longer and warmer but this is not what makes people more cheerful. It is the anticipation of Sakura. Right from end of February, the newspapers and magazines start publishing region wise predictions about cherry blossoms – when they will first start blooming and when will they be in full bloom. The Japanese follow these reports with as much interest as some of us follow share prices. In Tokyo the cherry blossom season is officially declared open when the first blooms or Hatsu hana appear on an ancient cherry blossom tree at the Yasukuni Shrine.
Yasukuni shrine may be the official symbol but all of us here in Tokyo have our own personal Cherry blossoms spots that we keep our eyes peeled on to see if the blooms are out or not. The park near my apartment is lined with sakura trees and everyone right from the joggers streaking past, sedate old ladies walking their dogs, the salaryman quickly crossing the park on his way to a meeting or young mothers pushing strollers, would glance up in anticipation to see if the blooms are out yet. For a week or so I watched the buds grow bigger and bigger every day during my walks. And suddenly one day there they were, the first cherry blossom of the season. They sure did put a spring in our steps.

Cherry blossoms can be found all over the city but there are some areas in Tokyo like the Ueno park and the Meguro river front that are known for their cherry trees. All sorts of events are organized during this time and food stalls are put up everywhere. The cherry trees are lit up at night for night viewing or Yozakura. There are also Hanami or flower viewing parties that are usually loud and boisterous get togethers where friends and family gather under cherry trees and have a daylong picnic. It is a cheerful time, everyone is happy to leave the winter behind and looking forward to spring and summer ahead. 

This year, the pleasure of cherry blossoms was marred by the corona virus. By the times the blooms came out, the government had started asking people not to go to crowded places. Hanami parties were banned and all events canceled.
The Japanese however, were not the ones to let a mere virus dampen their pleasure of enjoying the cherry blossom season that lasts for a mere two weeks but is something that they wait for the entire year. A few did stay home, but they were the minority.
I chose to not go to the popular, crowded cherry blossom spots but I did have my local park where walks under the tree-lined paths gave me a lot of pleasure.  

Sometimes just viewing rows after rows of cherry blossom trees is just a bit much for the senses, but the park is very green with a lot of other trees and the white and light pink cherry trees popping out against the greenery made the perfect visual experience.

This selective viewing in peace was perhaps much better than being jostled by crowds and trying to take a picture of the trees without a thousand people photobombing it.
When the flowers appear on the cherry trees, there is not a single leaf on them. Perhaps this is what makes them so special, a drab brown tree with naked branches one day and the next day covered with delicate petals. But when tender young leaves start appearing on the sakura trees and the ground under them becomes a carpet of cherry blossom petals you know the cherry blossom season is about to end. 

The season lasts all of two-three weeks and reminds us of the impermanence of things. Whatever has come will go, to be replaced by something else – something different but perhaps equally beautiful.
Cherry blossoms may have gone, but soon the bright and happy summer flowers will arrive – The Japanese lavender, hydrangea, azaleas,sunflowers and so many more. I wait for them in anticipation of better times ahead so that we may all go out again and rejoice in nature!

Japan's Summer Singing Sensations

One fine summer morning in Japan, just after sunrise, I was woken up by a sound that can only be described as a cross between high decibel screeching and a rasping sound. It reminded me of the worker who sits outside buildings being constructed in India and slowly and steadily cuts iron rods into pieces while the noise from his machine pierces your skull till you want to die.  

I opened the sliding door of my balcony and stepped out. No one was in sight but the sound was almost unbearable outside. Then I remembered my Indian neighbors had talked about seeing a pressure cooker in one of the local shops and wanting to try it out. I wondered if this is what a Japanese pressure cooker’s whistle sounds like.

All through the morning as I dressed, ate breakfast and left for work, the noise continued unabated. If this was indeed the pressure cooker whistle, I wondered what my neighbors were cooking!

But it was not the pressure cooker because the sound followed me all the way as I walked to the train station. Mercifully the sound shut off as soon as I entered the underground station.

My office was surrounded by a whole lot of trees and as I stepped out for some fresh air during my lunch break, the sound hit me again. By now I was sure that it was some kind of animal or bird but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what exactly it was. I couldn’t see any new species of birds except the huge crows that perpetually seem to dot the Japanese urban areas. The whole day, each time I went out I would be assaulted by this deafening sound but mercifully it stopped in the evening. I went to bed thinking that this is just one of those unresolved mysteries of Japan to add to my list. But that was not the end of it. I got up the next morning and the first thing that I heard was that sound again. This went on for three days till I thought I would go mad with the suspense and the noise. None of my Japanese colleagues seemed bothered by it; no one mentioned it and I wondered if they would think their Indian colleague has gone bonkers if I mention a weird sound that I hear as soon as I step outdoors.

I was put out of my misery after a few days when I went out to lunch with one of my Japanese colleagues and she casually said “Oh it really feels like summer now that the cicadas are singing non-stop”. I stared at her I total disbelief. Was that the sound of the cicadas? Were those innocuous looking bugs capable of emitting such shrill, ear drum piercing sound? And honestly how can the Japanese consider it singing!

Apparently, the cicadas that seem to live underground and incubate for years on end get out of their stupor in summer and invade Japan like an enormous dirt colored army. The ‘music’ that they make is actually their love song. They obviously don’t believe in wasting even a moment of their short lives over ground because they spend their days lustily singing for their mate from sunrise to sunset. Once they find their mate and the female lays the eggs, the cicadas quietly wither away and die leaving behind flaky wings and shells that carpet all areas near trees and make a crunchy autumny sound as you walk on them.

I never got used to the sound. For me it just made a shrill unpleasant background noise I could do nothing about and once the cicadas started dying, I did my best to side step over their crusty bodies that littered the ground. Strangely, the Japanese kids seem to be rather fond of these bugs. While kids from other countries spend their summer holidays swimming or riding bicycles the kids in Japan spend their summer afternoons chasing cicadas with butterfly nets. You can see them standing in groups under trees, flapping their nets about and trying to coax the cicadas to fly down. I don’t really understand why they want them as pets because after a few weeks the cicadas would be dead anyway.

In Japanese culture, the cicadas represent the concept of ‘Mujo’ or the impermanence of all things. Naturally, the Japanese poets with their preoccupation with loneliness and death and the transient nature of this world find the cicadas a fascinating topic to wax poetic about.

Basho, the famous Haiku poet sums it up perfectly in these two Haikus:

A cicada shell
it sang itself
utterly away.

And I so agree with Basho when he describes the sound the cicadas make.

Stillness -
the cicada's cry
drills into the rocks

Whatever the cultural or philosophical significance of the cicadas, to me they will always be those cacophonous creatures that almost drown all my other memories of a Japanese summer.

The Leg Room Chronicles !

For the past few months I have been travelling so much that I have been literally living out of suitcases. I usually love travel, even if it is related to work. What I do not love is the bit where I have to sit cramped in flights forever !

Only someone who is as tall as me (or taller!) will understand how difficult it is to fit all 5 feet 9 inches of me into a conventional airplane seat. What makes my life even more difficult is that majority of my long distance flights are to Japan. In my humble opinion, when that country was designing airplanes, they did not even consider anyone over the height of five feet four inches. 

You get in the flight, already feeling out of place because you are towering over the rest of the passengers and then you try to pour yourself into the cramped space the seat provides. The seats are so small, the leg space so negligible that after you have squeezed in along with the pillows and blankets and headphones the airline so thoughtfully provides, your derriere is half hanging out of the seat and your feet are so cramped that your chin is almost touching your knees.
Not Pleasant! 

Invariably, once you have managed to squeeze yourself in, the person infront of you decides that this would be an ideal time to get his money’s worth and reclines his chair as far as it would go. I’ve had people recline back their seats so much, it almost felt as if they were napping in my lap !

And so begins the war between the “Recliners” and the “Legroomers”. You can either (depending on your mood ) politely tell the person in front to straighten his seat a bit or gently but consistently keep nudging the back of his seat with your knee till he gets the hint.

Domestic flights within India are equally bad. Increase in number of seats has naturally led to a compromise on comfort and one gets the feeling of travelling like cattle herded into a cramped space.

Over the years you develop a strategy on how to make your hours in that airless hell as least uncomfortable as possible. The first thing is of course to try and get the seats right in front of the plane or the ones near the emergency exit. My flights are often late night ones and usually the web check in ( that also allows you to choose your seat) opens 24 hours before take-off. I have set alarms to wake me up in the middle of the night so that I can be the first to log in the airlines site and book myself the seat with the maximum leg space.

The seats on the emergency exit usually do not have a window view but then I would rather stretch my legs than sit all hunched up gazing at the beautiful panaroma of clouds floating by.

If you can’t manage the front seat, the second best option is to get an aisle seat and try to sit slightly diagonally. This requires you to be very careful about your jutting knees and elbows that the stewardess is sure to bang into with her food Trolley.

But the battle is only half won if you have got that aisle seat. As soon as you make yourself comfortable and stretch your cramped legs the sweet old lady next to you would need to use the washroom in what seems like every couple of minutes. As there is no way she can hop over your long legs you will have to get up every time and of course every time you get up you bang your head on the overhead compartment.

And it’s not just about leg room. What do you with those long arms and pointy elbows that refuse to fit just anywhere. There have been many subtle wars with my neighbor in the next seat over elbow space. Both of us looking resolutely ahead while trying very hard to push the other person’s elbow aside in order to occupy that coveted space on the armrest.

In majority of my flights, I usually end up sitting with my feet clamped together and my arms jammed on my sides, not unlike a trussed hen.

More travel lined up in April. Suddenly video conferences and telephone calls (however long they might stretch) seem like such an infinitely better option than getting on a Jet Plane !

Four Japanese and a Conversation

Waiting at airports, especially for late night International flights is not one of my favorite activities. The wait always seems interminate, there is nothing to do and I can never fall asleep in the waiting lounge as most people tend to do.

But sometimes things happen that not only liven up the wait but give you something to chuckle about for a long time. And also provide very good material for a blog post !

So, I was sitting at the Indira Gandhi International Airport waiting for my flight to Tokyo. I was bored and listless and couldn’t concentrate on my book.

Then four Japanese trooped in and sat down in the empty chairs opposite me. From the cameras slung around their necks and the travel guides in their hands it was evident that they were tourists.

 Once they were settled in their chairs and had arranged their hand luggage neatly around them, two of them did what all Japanese do when they have time to kill. They fell asleep. I have always marveled at the ability of the Japanese to instantly fall asleep where ever they are. They sleep in airport lounges, in buses, in planes and I have even caught a few napping while standing in the very crowded Japanese trains.

The third one promptly opened his backpack and started searching for something inside it.

The fourth, living up to the true name of all Japanese tourists pranced about the lounge taking random photographs. The Japanese take their trips very very seriously and believe in documenting every single thing. So you will see a Japanese tourist clicking pics of everything from the picturesque Taj Mahal to a dog irrigating the flowers in a public garden.

Our friend started off by clicking the pics of the washroom entrances. A portly Punjabi aunty came out of the ladies just as he was about to click and she glared at him ferociously. Our friend however was not to be deterred and he continued to go clickety click. I was totally bewildered by what he was doing till I realized that he was fascinated by the huge cutouts of men and women in traditional Indian attire at the entrances of the washroom. Once he had finished capturing almost all the loos in the vicinity he turned his attention to the planes outside and started clicking them.

Eventually our camera crazy friend settled down. Inspite of the lounge being air-conditioned, he took out a Japanese fan from his bag and started fanning himself vigorously with it. Now please remember that no self-respecting Japanese will ever venture out of his home without a fan. It’s unthinkable, almost an insult to the nation.

He shifted in his chair and complained loudly of the heat. The remaining two Japanese continued to nod over their chests and the third one continued to burrow inside his backpack. No one paid him any attention. Bored, he looked around him moodily. Suddenly his eyes fell on me sitting quietly in my corner, reading.

He looked at me and looked away. Then looked at me again. I glanced at him and embarrassed, he quickly turned away. But he continued to cast furtive glances towards me from behind his fan. He must have been very curious about me because unlike the majority of their Indian counterparts, staring at women is not something Japanese men usually do.

Finally he turned to his friend and said “I say, Abe San, There is this girl sitting across you. Do you think she is an Indian”

Abe San, for that was presumably the name of the backpack burrowing Japanese simply grunted and kept searching in his Backpack for only he knew what. The other two Japanese continued to doze.

After a few more sidelong glances at me, he nudged the backpack- burrower again. “Well what do you think?” Abe San grunted and finally looked over at me. “I don’t know” he said and resumed his burrowing.

By this time one of the sleeping Japanese had woken up. So our curious friend leaned over to him and asked “What do you think Yamamoto San, that lady .. is she Indian?” Yamamoto San turned his bleary eyes towards me and took me in for a moment. “I don’t think so. Look how tall she is and Indian women never keep their hair so short”.

This observation made the backpack burrower stop rummaging in his backpack and he joined his friends in their speculation.

“She might be European” he declared. Then ensued a very interesting discussion that encompassed everything from my eyes, to my height, my skin color and a few other things in between.

What the Japanese of course didn’t know was that since I have spent five years of my life studying their national language I could understand each and every word of what they were saying. I sat there torn between indignation and fighting an irresistible urge to laugh.


The conversation went on and on. Our camera toting friend was sure that with my black hair and eyes I was not European but I definitely didn’t look Indian. He was now wondering aloud if I might be from Russia.

The Bleary eyed Japanese scratched at his day old beard meditatively and said, ”She might be Russian. I had a Russian colleague once. Very tall those people.”

All this while I was sitting there biting the insides of the cheeks to prevent myself from laughing out loud.

The fourth Japanese, who had also woken up and had been listening avidly to the discussion but not participating, suddenly piped up and said “I think she must be from Afghanistan”.

That did it. I knew if I waited for even a few minutes more I would be rolling on the floor laughing. I had to put an end to this.

So I casually turned to them and said in Japanese “You know all of you are wrong, I am from India”. And then I gave them an angelic smile and asked, “And how did you find my country?”

The effect this had on the Japanese was priceless. Our friend, who was vigorously fanning himself, literally jumped and dropped his fan on the floor with a loud clatter. The others just froze. Their surprise was so genuine that for a full minute they continued to stare at me pop eyed. They had all turned a beet red and their mouths kept opening and shutting comically like fish out of water.

“But, but, how do you know Japanese?” one of them spluttered.

I told them.

If it had been anyone else they would have laughed uproariously at their own stupidity. But not so the prim and proper Japanese. They were mortified. It was as if they had been caught snooping into the women’s changing room. Oh the shame of it! Why doesn't a typhoon come and sweep us all away!

Finally I put them at ease by asking them what all they had seen in India. What followed was a very animated discussion about India and Japan.

All in all, this incident made an excellent start to what turned out to be one of the best holidays I've ever had!

The Best Days of My Life !

I was introduced to Sakshi’s Blog 'Between Write and Wrong' by a friend. To be honest, I opened it in a very bored and desultory manner not really knowing what to expect. I read the first few lines of her post and the next instant I was sitting up in sheer delight. For finally, finally here was a blogger who wasn't blogging simply for the sake of it. Sakshi writes, truly writes and uses her language masterfully to create utterly captivating works of art.

What also amazes me is how prolific she is. She can make you laugh out loud with her sparkling wit and then turn around and very casually, very effortlessly churn out a post that will astound you with its deep perception.

The love of travel is something Sakshi and I have in common. So when she asked me to write a travel post for her I wanted it to be something special. I went through a whole lot of travel destinations in my mind choosing and then discarding the places I wanted to write about. Finally I chose to write a memoir on Kobe, not a well-known tourist spot but a place that is very close to my heart. Somehow it seemed very appropriate for her blog! 

I do hope you enjoy reading it! 

I have spent many happy years in the Land of the Rising Sun and have lived in almost all its major cities, but the place that remains the closest to my heart is a quaint little city called Kobe. 

Kobe lies on the southernmost tip of Japan. It’s almost at the other end from Tokyo, but what separates the two cities is not only the physical distance but also their two totally different characters. Tokyo is all about big corporates, high rises and technology. Kobe on the other hand is quiet, laid back with an old world charm. If we were to assume that these two cities are people, Tokyo to me would be an aggressive Businessman but Kobe would be a graceful and elegant lady dressed in a Kimono.

Read the rest on Sakshi's blog using the link below. 

http://www.sakshinanda.com/2014/03/guest-post-best-days-of-my-life-by.html