Jugnu and Chanda have disappeared. Like thousands of people all over England, they were lovers and living together out of wedlock. To Chanda’s family, however, the disgrace was unforgivable. Perhaps enough so as to warrant murder.
As he explores the disappearance and its aftermath through the eyes of Jugnu’s worldly older brother, Shamas, and his devout wife, Kaukab, Nadeem Aslam creates a closely observed and affecting portrait of people whose traditions threaten to bury them alive. The result is a tour de force, intimate, affecting, tragic and suspenseful.
The other day, GG and I were checking out various junior colleges where she may be interested and we came across the house system there. She was very happy on seeing this since secondary schools here have now abolished the house system and it’s more interclass competitions.
So I started talking to her about the houses in my school and that talk is the root behind today’s post. I have written previously about my alma mater and thought this is a good time to share more about my school.
In the secondary section, we were all divided into four houses. Our house names were very unique in that unlike the traditional house names which consisted of Indian freedom fighters or names of flowers or something else, our house names consisted of names of ancient Persian princesses. I am not sure if I have mentioned it before, but my school is a Parsi school and was quite steeped into the Parsi culture. We used to be quite proud of our houses and were extremely competitive about it. This used to peak during sports day, more about it later.
As mentioned, our houses were named after ancient Persian princesses – green house is named Shernaaz, blue house is Purandokth, red house is Godarfried and yellow house is Faranakh
We were also very democratic in nature, with the entire secondary school voting democratically (just like in an election) to get our Head Girls, Junior Head Girls, House Captains and Vice Captains. If I remember correctly, grade five was not allowed to vote for the head girl, but when I was in grade five, we were allowed to vote for our house captains. For the head girls, the finalists had to give speeches in the school hall to the entire secondary school and also campaign with posters across the secondary school. On the voting day, we all queued up, according to class and cast our votes with one ballot for the head girl and one for the junior head girl. The votes use to be counted in the presence of the principal and winner in each category would be declared as winners. The two runner-ups would then be selected as the assistant head girls in their category.
For house captains, the process was slightly more casual. One day at the beginning of the year, each house would assemble in a pre-determined spot and teachers would start asking for students to either nominate their choices or ask students to self nominate themselves. Once they got a pre-determined number of students in each category – Captain and Vice Captain, they would hold elections.
The elections would be by show of hands and when the teacher who heads the house announces the name of each person, we would raise our hands and a head count taken. Then the winners announced and cheers and commiserations. It used to be a very fun atmosphere, especially since the periods after lunch would become free due to elections. When I was in grade five, I remember one of my classmates had a sister in grade nine and the class was just next to ours. So that class came to our class and literally brainwash us to vote for students in their class for Vice Captain and this trick worked! A few years later, teachers got wind of what the seniors were up to and stopped grade five students from voting. You only voted when you were in grade six and had some idea of the house system and the prominent girls there who may become house leaders.
Our rivalry and competitiveness really came to fore during our sports day. This would usually be held on a Sunday at a sports ground not too far from our school. While the primary and kindergarten students could sit with their parents in another section, secondary students had to sit according to their houses. So when the events started, everyone in the houses section would start cheering and booing. Points from each event would be added up and the house that scored the most points (from events on the sports day plus tournaments of indoor sports like chess, carrom, badminton etc. which would have already been calculated) would have the chance to lead the march past. In my years in school (including in primary school), my house did not lead the march past on only one occasion! And that was because that year something very unprecedented happened. Three houses had the exact same points and they had to toss to see which house would lead the march past and who would follow. Red house won the toss that year and my house, which was the green house was second! We were so disappointed that year. We would also practice for the march past for a couple of months before the sports day and this meant all those of us who were in the march past contingent (around 30 girls from grade five to grade ten) would practise after lunch and miss lessons which were also a bonus to us!
It was really fun writing this post and looking back in time when the most important thing was thinking about school and friends. I wish I could go back to those innocent times.
When Eva’s film star sister Katrina dies, she leaves California and returns to Cornwall, where they spent their childhood summers, to scatter Katrina’s ashes and in doing so return her to the place where she belongs.
But Eva must also confront the ghosts from her own past, as well as those from a time long before her own. For the house where she so often stayed as a child is home not only to her old friends the Halletts but also to the people who had lived there in the eighteenth century.
When Eva finally accepts that she is able to slip between centuries and see and talk to the inhabitants from hundreds of years ago, she soon finds herself falling for Daniel Butler, a man who lived – and died – long before she herself was born. Eva begins to question her place in the present, and in laying her sister to rest, comes to realise that she too must decide where she really belongs, choosing between the life she knows and the past she feels so drawn towards.
Yesterday marked the start of the new Lunar New Year and living in Singapore, this becomes just as important to us (and not just for the 2.5 days public holidays we get). We Lo Hei in offices and great our friends, neighbours and colleagues a Happy New Year. I’ve blogged in detail about the Chinese New Year previously, so this year, I was looking at some of the myths and legends associated with the new year that I wanted to share with you all.
The legend of the new year or Nian is a famous one. Long ago in the mountains, there lived a horrible demon creature named Nian. Every year, on the first day of the year, the creature would awaken and descend upon the village. He would eat all the grain and livestock. And if there were any children unfortunately stuck outside, they would disappear.
The villagers lived in fear of this beast and boarded up their houses on this night to protect their families. One year, right before this event was to occur, an old man visited the village. He turned to the villagers and asked, “Why do you fear this creature such? You are many and he is but one. Surely he could not swallow all of you.”
But the villagers remained sceptical and locked themselves up anyway. That night, Nian did not come. The old man had ridden him until dawn and the creature went back to its cave hungry. This went on for several nights until the old man revealed, “I cannot protect you forever.”
He turned out to be a god and had to return to his duties elsewhere. The villagers were terrified that once the old man left, they would once again see Nian return.
So the old man informed them, “The beast is easily scared. He does not like the colour red. He fears loud noises and strange creatures. So tonight, spread red across the village. Hang red signs on every door. Make loud noises with drums, music, and fireworks. And to protect your children, give them face masks and lanterns to protect them.” The villagers did as the old man instructed and Nian never returned again.
During the Chinese New Year period, the married or the elderly give red envelopes to children or unmarried juniors. A red envelope is also called yasui qian (“suppressing Sui money”).
According to legend, on New Year’s Eve, besides the monster Nian, there was a demon named Sui that came out to terrify children while they were asleep.
It was said that the children who were touched by the demon would be too scared to cry out loud, and got a terrible fever and even became mentally unstable. To keep children safe from being harmed by Sui, parents would light candles and stay up for the whole night.
On one New Year’s Eve, in an official’s family household, the parents gave their child eight coins to play with in order to keep him awake, so as to avoid him being hurt by the demon. The child wrapped the coins in red paper, opened the packet, rewrapped it, and reopened it until he was too tired to fall asleep. Then the parents placed the packet with eight coins under his pillow.
When Sui tried to touch his head, the eight coins emitted a strong light and scared the demon away. The eight coins turned out to be eight fairies. From then on, giving red envelopes became a way to keep children safe and bring good luck.
It is recorded that the origin of spring couplets can be dated back to 1,000 years ago when people hung taofu (written charms on peach wood) on doors.
Legend has it that there was a huge peach tree stretching for more than 1,500 kilometers on a mountain in the ghost world. To the northeast of the tree, two guards named Shentu and Yulei guarded the entrance to the ghost world. They would catch the ghosts who harmed people and then sent them to tigers as food.
Therefore, all ghosts were afraid of the two guards. It was believed that to hang a piece of peach wood with an inscription of the two guards’ names on doors could scare evil things away.
By the Song Dynasty (960-1279), people began to write two auspicious antithetical lines on the peach wood instead of the names of the two guards. Later, the peach wood was replaced by red paper, which symbolizes good luck and happiness. Since then, pasting spring couplets has been a custom to welcome the new year and express best wishes.
Another decoration is calligraphy. The most common word is fú, meaning happiness or fortune. But you’ll rarely see it upright.
It is said that in the Ming dynasty, the Emperor ordered every household to decorate by pasting fu onto their doors. On New Year’s Day, he sent soldiers to check. They found that one illiterate family pasted the word upside down.
The Emperor ordered the family to be punished by death. Thankfully, the Empress was there and came up with an explanation: “Upside down” (dào) is a homophone of “here” (dào). When it’s upside down, it means that fu is here.
The explanation made sense to the Emperor and he set the family free. From then on, people would hang the word upside down, both for fortune and in remembrance of the kind Empress.
The Stove God (zào shén) is in charge of people’s meals and livelihoods. He’s one of the gods that interact with humans the most.
On the little new year (xiao nián) before the official “big” New Year (dà nián), he returns to the heavens. The Stove God reports to the Jade Emperor (yù dì), telling him how each family was during the year. He later returns to Earth to either bless or punish the families, as ordered by the Jade Emperor.
This is why families will make malt candy gourds and leave it out at night. The candy will sweeten the Stove God’s mouth so he’ll only praise the family. It can also stick his teeth together, stopping him from saying bad things. This way, the family will enjoy plentiful food the entire year.
Last Seen in Lhasa: The story of an extraordinary friendship in modern Tibet – Claire Scobie
Some go to Tibet seeking inspiration, others for adventure.
The award-winning journalist, Claire Scobie, found both when she left her ordinary life in London and went to the Himalayas in search of a rare red lily.
Her journey took her to Pemako, where few Westerners have set foot and where the myth of Shangri-la was born. It was here she became friends with Ani, an unusual Tibetan nun who was to change her life.
Through seven journeys in Tibet, Claire chronicles a rapidly changing world — where monks talk on mobiles and Lhasa’s sex industry thrives. But it is Ani, a penniless wanderer with a rich heart, who leaves an indelible impression. Together, in a culture where freedom of expression is forbidden, they risk arrest. And they forge an abiding friendship, based on intuition and deep respect.
Memories and Such 
