New Year, Ancient Place
This year began with a journey for me, a trip of exploration and connection. The type of travel that coloured my 20s and early 30s, studying and living and working internationally. The type of travel that was largely overtaken by life and children for a decade or so, happily but decidedly. So it’s rather fitting to return to those feelings of unknown destinations and discomfort in this new chapter of creative entrepreneurship with Studio Kahaani. And even more so, to bring my daughter along.
She had been to India a number of times as a younger child, but there were usually other driving factors such as weddings or visits to older relatives. This time, the agenda was different. Heavy silk saris and jewelry were left behind to make room for lighter travel, unburdened by sartorial planning and its attendant logistics (think marathon, not sprint. In heels. And six yards of fabric.)
What has unfolded over the last two weeks is surely the stuff of multiple posts for months to come, but I wanted to begin my stories in one of the oldest places we’ve visited. While travelling through Andhra Pradesh on my textile expeditions, we had an opportunity to make a brief detour to Undavalli Caves. Dating back to 420-620 AD, they are a stunning example of monolithic rock-cut architecture. They have deities and carvings dedicated to Vishnu and the Ramayana, and are also said to have been used by Jain and Buddhist communities.
My mother couldn’t navigate up the precarious sloped stone steps, so I found myself being the older one for the very first time during this type of temple visit. Guiding my daughter up and instructing her with no one ahead of me to do the same. It was a new and beautiful experience in a very ancient place, but I was too busy trying to keep an eye on my daughter exploring the four levels with minimal railings or barriers to reflect deeply on the moments we were living. Only later, while studying my photos, was I struck by what had been handed over to me that day in the chiaroscuro of the temple. My mother waited below while I gave my daughter a somewhat rudimentary explanation of the deities and carvings. She waited while I instructed my daughter where to remove her shoes and walk respectfully through an inner sanctum. She waited while the two of us stood on those ancient floors, smoothed by thousands of feet over centuries - two people whose blood ran from this region to their birthplace in Canada, walking barefoot across ancient floors smoothed by millions of others’ footsteps. While both of us entertained questions from strangers about where we are from, questions that would previously be directed to me during my childhood visits, reminding both of us that we are new yet familiar.
It is the reason I now have a compulsion to create a platform that connects us to our cultural landscape in multiple ways. I find myself in a position of guidance and explanation that I knew I would inherit one day as a mother, but that still seemed like a distant reality while I have my mother on call - available any time to provide significant dates, recipes, translations. A cultural, toll-free hotline that I take for granted (well, not entirely toll-free, but that’s a different blog post!).
So I begin this year reflecting on our steps through an ancient place. The vibrations made by the soft footfall of bare feet on cold, smooth stone floors carved into the earth’s stone. Inaudible but full of meaning and beauty, of new chapters and journeys home.
