Heart Of The Hills

When we ventured into the heart of the hills in the Lake District that I understood for the very first time what Wordsworth had really meant or implied in his Ode to Immortality. Why he had seen God in Nature, why he had felt that there was something beyond the surface of things and that God or the universal spirit shone through Nature; why Keats had written 'Beauty is truth and truth, beauty, that is all ye know and all ye need to know', why Shelley had implored the Westwind to inspire him, why Coleridge could conjure up a Christobel and a magical atmosphere in the dark woods.

If you could ever see, and feel, and drink in the sheer beauty of this place, you too would believe that it would change you, it would affect your very soul. Just to imagine that these great masters lived here for long periods of time, and walked by that shimmering water, and trod on that soft grass and brushed by those lacy leaves, and sun-kissed flowers every day, is incredible. The beauty of this place is almost 'painful' at times; and I, to my utter amazement, found tears in my eyes. I had never known that there could be so many shades of green, so many shades of blue and so many hues of brown and gold. The days I spent there, were days in paradise. Blue skies with little puffy white clouds, floating, casting their shadows on the clear blue waters of the lakes, a bright golden sun, and a deliciously cool breeze. If there is a Paradise, this is where I have come closest to it.

My aunt's friend, who drove us there and has traveled around the world and come here several times, said that she had seen much countryside in many parts of the world, including in India and USA, but in her opinion, the wondrous beauty of the Lake District is unsurpassed. There is some strange power in this place. We climbed up a hill through the woods and by a small stream, I reached the top first, and stood behind a copse of trees, from that height, I could see the whole countryside around, spread like a rich oriental carpet all around. It was all so breathtakingly beautiful! it cant be described and it cannot even be absorbed from photographs, however professionally taken.

That moment, I did not want to go back. I did not want to go back to people, to THINGS. I realized in that moment what was meant by, the futility of art, the futility of material pleasures, of the material existence, why some people become hermits, why nature is worshipped, why they say that 'the best things in life are free', why they say that a power called God exists. There is no art in the world that can match the perfection of nature, the beauty of nature is incomparable, full stop.

There are various climatic, locational and incidental factors, not to mention that England has the money and resources to maintain this place, which has made the Lake Districts one the worlds hottest tourist spots. But the point is that IT IS WHAT IT IS! And it is not man-made paradise, it is natural. I may have to leave this country, but I have left my heart behind. If one can fall in love with a place, I think I have.

[This is a guest post. The author, Madhurima Gupta, who was a student of English Literature in Jadavpur University, is now working as a successful animator. These are excerpts from email and letter which she wrote during her visit to England.]

The Lake District

It was a 5 hour drive to the Lakes which are located near the border between England and Scotland. I went with my aunt and two of her friends. One of them drove us there in her car. She is the most brilliant driver I have ever met. I have met guys who drive much worse than her in emergency circumstances. And on our return, we encountered such a situation. But I will come to that later.

After a 4 hour drive from London to the lakes, we put up at a cozy little bed-and-breakfast inn. For the first time I had a typical English breakfast, presented in the typically British fashion. First, a bowl of cereal with milk, then tea/coffee with bacon and eggs, along with sausages, fried mushrooms and tomatoes, followed by toast/crumpets with butter and four kinds of jam and mustard, honey and milk.

The Lake District spans a large area, and has over 12 lakes. We stayed near lake Windermere, the largest lake of them all. On Saturday we went to see Wordsworth’s house, Dove Cottage; this is located at a place called Cockermouth. Near this area is Bassenthwaith Lake. The day we were visiting happened to be the bicentenary of his poem, The Daffodils. Inside the small, quite cramped, white cottage, was exhibited many of the objects referred to in his poems like for example, the couch he sat on, while contemplating the beauty of the daffodils. Also exhibited were many personal articles belonging to William, Dorothy and Mary Wordsworth. Clothes, furniture and other articles, preserved and exhibited in glass cases; quaint, antique and quite fascinating.

We also visited the museum next to Dove Cottage, where I saw, besides many remarkable and fantastic things, Wordsworth’s own handwritten drafts of the Prelude, Daffodils and many other poems! I saw the very first copy of the first edition of The Lyrical Ballads! I saw Coleridge's handwritten copy of Christobel! There were loads of handwritten letters by Wordsworth, Coleridge, Mary, Dorothy; many paintings by Constable (a painter whose paintings inspired many a poem by the Romantic poets), though I could not find the one which inspired Ode to Autumn (Keats). I found out that it was kept in the museum beside Keats house in Keswick, in another part of the lakes. We drove by Keats house but didn’t have time to stop and explore.

[This is a guest post. The author, Madhurima Gupta, who was a student of English Literature in Jadavpur University, is now working as a successful animator. These are excerpts from email and letter which she wrote during her visit to England.]

Cambridge - A Journey

Today I visited Cambridge. Cambridge is a much smaller university town than Oxford. The atmosphere is much more homely and informal. I took a tourist bus for sightseeing in general and for an overview of the major college campuses within the University; Trinity College, Kings College, Queens College, St. John’s College, Peterhouse and Christ’s College

Trinity College is the largest, richest college in Oxford as well as Cambridge. It has the largest college grounds. I met some very interesting people while touring the vast halls and chapel and had long talks with them. They were able to provide a lot of insight and information about the art and architecture to be found in the ancient structures.

Kings College has the most beautiful chapel of them all. It has stained-glass windows which have glass panels dating back to the 11th century! The guide who took us around, fascinated us with his explanation of the symbolic significance of the architectural design, sculptures and art work.

St Johns has an impressive facade and there is a cemetery for American soldiers in Cambridge which has the US flag planted in the middle of it, on a tall pole.

Most beautiful of all was the canal running right through the heart of the town. There were numerous punting boats floating lazily on the stream, beneath cornflower blue skies, along grassy wooded banks. There is also a place where tourists can feed the dozens of beautiful white swans which swim on the sun-burnished waters.

And then I saw it, right in the midst of a flurry of graceful white wings, was a very large, breathtakingly beautiful, black swan. That was the first black swan I had ever seen. It reminded me of the first notes of Bruckner’s 9th Symphony where a black swan forms a key motif. Believe me, black swans are a million times more magnificent and more mesmerizing than white ones.

I had been taking numerous snaps till that time. At the very moment when I tried to take a photograph of this unforgettable scene, sadly, unforgivably, my film roll gave out. Somehow I had no extra rolls with me at that moment. This is something I guess I will regret forever, for that moment will never return. That is one picture that will stay imprinted in my memory forever.

[This is a guest post. The author, Madhurima Gupta, who was a student of English Literature in Jadavpur University, is now working as a successful animator. These are excerpts from email and letter which she wrote during her visit to England.]

Tour Of Oxford

I decided to take a conducted tour to Oxford, Stratford-on-Avon and Moreton-on-Marsh. What I particularly appreciated about conducted tours in England is that they have really great guides who do have a considerable repertoire of knowledge about the places they take us to visit. Moreover this particular guide was extremely conscientious as well. As my appearance was more like a high school student, he took special care to ascertain that I knew my way to and from the station to my home and also confirmed that I knew which tube line I needed to take to return safely. Not to mention that he kept an eye out so I would not wander off and get lost.

Oxford is indeed “a city of dreaming spires”. Almost all the buildings except the modern constructions, are made out of a dusty yellow stone, which lends the city a drowsy air. The many cathedrals and edifices have tall spires which rise gracefully into the drifting clouds.

This University town has an “old-time” air about it, which even the modern chain stores and shopping centers along the main roads, have not been able to destroy.

First, we were taken to Christ church college, which was the education center for famous people like John Wesley, John Locke and William Penn and the writers W.H. Auden and Lewis Carroll as well as Albert Einstein.

Christ Church College is an old, enormous edifice made of gray stone covered with red and dark green ivy and creepers. The vast college grounds are covered in beautiful foliage. I sat down on a bench opposite the entrance near the grounds, and watched the tops of the trees mingle and become one with the misty horizon. The huge cathedral—the Christ Church is the center point around which this college developed. In the beginning only monks were educated, then as attitudes became more liberal, the number of students increased and the institution developed into the sprawling mansion it is now.

Contrary to past misconceptions of many of my friends, Oxford University is not just a large campus; it is a sizeable university town with a large network of roads, shopping malls, entertainment centres, restaurants, hotels and residential areas.

All the colleges there come under the Oxford University.

The Trinity College at Oxford and the famous Brasenose College were two other focal points in our tour. The architecture and historical significance of these institutions are fascinating.

The tourist bus glided through acres and acres of picturesque English countryside. I felt as is I had somehow slipped into the pages of an Enid Blyton fairytale.

On the way to Stratford, we stopped in a town called Moreton-in-Marsh, in the Cotswolds countryside. Here all the houses are made of Cotswold stone but these chunks of stone are not joined with cement or such material. The stones are so cleverly arranged that they all fit firmly like play-blocks, interlocking into each others shapes.

I enjoyed a delicious lunch of chopped country sausages on buttered, mashed potato with fried onion, salad and beans at an absolutely charming little inn near the bus station.

Finally we arrived in Stratford, Shakespeares birthplace. Walking up a cobble-stoned street I found myself in front of Shakespeare’s house. A two-storeyed, half-timbered, Tudor house with one gable. I could have hardly imagined the previous year, while writing my Shakepeare paper; that in a few months time I would be actually standing at his doorstep.

The house is really ancient and it’s indeed a credit to the British government to have kept it maintained and preserved so well to keep it from crumbling. The flagstones and foundations on the ground floor date back to Shakespeare’s time, the 16th century. The upper floor has been done up apparently to resemble what it may have looked like in his time. Glass cabinets displayed carefully preserved manuscripts, folios, household items and personal belonging of the poet and his family.

After signing my name along with a few comments in a gigantic book for visitors. I walked down to the river Avon. Filled with graceful white swans, colourful barges full of flowers and fruits, and boats full of tourists, I could hardly get a glimpse of the waters beneath. In some way I felt a trifle disappointed, I had wanted a calmer, less commercialized view.
I guess I missed the serenity.

I stepped back to Shakespear’s house and sat just looking at it for a long time, so that I could record and preserve the feeling somehow, deep within myself. But time seemed to run a marathon, and in a whirlwind of passing scenery I was back in London; solicitously cross-questioned by the avuncular guide who made doubly sure I would not get lost on the streets of London. A guided tour has time limits !

I dozed off, playing and replaying the events of the day in my mind and anticipating the much awaited trip to Cambridge, Wales, Bristol and Bath which were scheduled a day later.

[This is a guest post. The author, Madhurima Gupta, who was a student of English Literature in Jadavpur University, is now working as a successful animator. These are excerpts from email and letter which she wrote during her visit to England.]

Art In London

From the next day I started traveling by myself. I used the underground and the shiny red London buses and my own two feet to explore each and every nook and cranny of this fascinating city.

I went to see the Parliament House, the Big Ben of course and Westminster Abbey. The last one left me overwhelmed. Being a student of Literature everything took on a different meaning. In fact it was hard to believe that all those writers and poets, Kings and Queens, nobles and statesmen, whose names were till then, mere printed words in a much thumbed text book, lay buried beneath these very cold flagstones beneath my feet.

I walked to Trafalgar Square, took loads of photos of the legendary pigeons which clustered in dozens around the square and took off in swirling formations from the top of Nelsons Column. This is a hot spot where tourists gather to sit around and rest. Some very interesting conversation can be carried on with an international collection of visitors. Then a short walk took me to St Paul’s Cathedral, with its remarkable Gothic architecture. London is very clean in these parts. I sat down on a bench in a small park to have a sandwich for lunch. There were teenagers with long sticks, removing litter left on the grass. Similarly Hyde is a lovely place to sit and catch ones thoughts after the hustle and stress of daily life.

The next day I went to Westminster again. I walked over the Millennium Bridge or the "Wobbly bridge" as it is locally known because when it was first built it actually wobbled a little as it is suspended by wires.

On the other bank of the Thames River is the Globe Theatre, a replica of the actual Globe Theatre in Shakespeare’s time, and also walked over to the Anchor Inn which is the original site of the Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. This was especially exciting for me as Shakespeare was one of my favorite study papers for my Masters and the roughly drawn artist's impression of the Globe in my textbook, was a tangible reality right in front of my eyes.

I spent hours at the Tate Modern Art Gallery and the Salvador Dali Art Gallery. The Tate Modern houses some remarkable work by contemporary artists, which leave a definite impact on the mind, and evokes thought. These images have remained with me and still come back in certain moments.

Today I went to the National Art Gallery. I am quite the art buff and spent the entire day scrutinizing each and every painting in the gallery, as well as many which were hidden away in the basement. A kind gentleman, one of the guides, was impressed by my persistence and interest. He offered to show me those paintings, which were not on public display, and go through an enormous book, which contained detailed information about almost every painting in the gallery. The information gleaned from this insightful sojourn could fill a thesis paper and more. The content and historical significance of some paintings could challenge many a preconceived notion about the cross-cultural influences dating back beyond the 10th century maybe earlier.

Original, restored paintings from the 12th century till the 21st, Fra Lippo Lippi of Browning’s poem of the same title, Andrea Del Sarto again of Browning fame, Paolo Uccello, Botticelli, Durer, Mentegna, Raphael, Titian, Claud and Turner, the famous landscape painters who inspired many a poet, Vermeer, Dujartin, Rembrandt, Goya and Guardi. Keats poetry came to life in a new way in Hogarths breathtaking landscapes.

There was a separate section for portraits of Kings and Queens, great scientists, musicians, painters, writers, statesmen and soldiers in history as well as contemporaries from the world of art, music, theatre and film. The sculpture section was an entirely different experience. The impact of the actual, tangible larger than life, sculptures took my breath away.

The crowning glory of the day was a special exhibit of Van Gogh’s paintings. To see Sunflowers and Starry Nights right there in front of my eyes, the colors and textures emitting the brilliance of a beautiful mind. I was completely overwhelmed and over awed at the sheer impact of the bold strokes and the vibrant tones of the canvasses.

It really made my day.

[This is a guest post. The author, Madhurima Gupta, who was a student of English Literature in Jadavpur University, is now working as a successful animator. These are excerpts from email and letter which she wrote during her visit to England.]

An Indian In England

London is a place right after my heart. Since childhood I had dreams of going to England to experience the English way of life, specifically in London as I had close relatives living there. I took up English Literature till post graduation as I found British and European art and culture fascinating. However, I felt that an actual visit would be a very good way to “complete” my education and deepen my understanding.

And then suddenly one day I got lucky. I actually won a ticket to England, right after my post graduation and I was off.

When I finally landed at the Heathrow airport after a long but exciting flight, I was greeted by a Fleet cabs driver (which my cousin had sent to fetch me). A typical cockney and garrulous to boot. It was fortunate that I could understand his accent. After 10 minutes of brief introduction, he showed great interest in me as I was from India. He expressed his views on my country too and I was quite appalled to find that Londoners still think of India as a land of elephants and snakes. Before I got off, I promised to send him links of websites with pictures of India and Indian city life as he had requested.

The next day, my aunt handed me a set of guides and maps of London and surrounding areas, and showed me how to get around the city. I realized one thing, that it is impossible to get lost in this city. Each and every street and by lane is clearly labeled and marked. Availability of different types of transport and other facilities are clearly printed on signposts at every corner. It is very easy to go around for sightseeing, especially by tube or the underground trains. And all places are very tourist friendly.

My first visit was to Madam Tussauds, which lived up to the hype it has engendered (though I found Amitabh Bachchan to be a trifle phony due to his very black hair and too white French beard, but Princess Diana and Steven Spielberg could have walked off their pedestals).

Next, the boat trip down the Thames to Greenwich was an experience in itself. The cityscape and country-scape of London floated by, the green expanses of the Greenwich observatory grounds, the sparkling beauty of the lake within, made the vague, learnt by rote term, “Greenwich mean time”, take on a completely new meaning. I stood astride the long strip of metal dividing the earth into the eastern and western hemispheres and hoped I wouldn’t wake up and find that it was all but a dream.

[This is a guest post. The author, Madhurima Gupta, who was a student of English Literature in Jadavpur University, is now working as a successful animator. These are excerpts from email and letter which she wrote during her visit to England.]