Shadow Of The Moon

Shadow of The Moon



Shadow of the full moon that
She was, cooling our lives of desert heat
Fell into the lake deep in
Hidden in the cave
Lair of the wolf that
Walked among men
And pretended to be afraid of
Innocent, until they were beguiled
Only to be lured to the cave
For the duration of his play
Blinded some, only in mind sometimes, others
Hit in head and thrown to
Wolves and jackals and hyenas that roam about in
Guise of humans - gender regardless -
And were hounded for life until
Finished to the satisfaction of the werewolf
Hidden in the cave.

He had some innocents beguiled
And too the shadow of the
Moon
Reflected in the lake hidden deep in the cave
His lair
And the innocents brought in those that loved them
The moon her own love, and her shadow brought in
The one thrown far away by the wolf
One he repented not tearing to shreds
And so the shadow of the moon it was
The wolf cried to
He had lost the moon for ever.

The shadow of the moon had pity in her depths
Just as the cave has deep pockets of air
Lake deep and reflecting the heavens sometimes
So the shadow of the moon glimmered out when the
Lake flowed out - and called to the
One wandering about crying for the lost moon
Torn to shreds by the wolf and his ilk, but still living,
Not so easily lured to the cave of the
Werewolf.

Shadow of the moon called out, glimmering,
Over and over
And the innocent torn to shreds, healed,
Came yet over and over
Heeding to the call of the shadow of the moon
Torn over and over to shreds by the
Wolfpack that was mostly hyenas and jackals
Until finally thrown too far away
Finished now, the werewolf thought
Not quite, someone said from Above
Innocent yet lived, healed, just about
And this time
Closed ears and mind to the calls of the wolves
Crying to the moon - and closed eyes to the
Shadow of the moon.

Eons passed, and the word spread
Brought about by a magpie, the innocent heard it too
The wolf is no more, the pack at throats of one another,
Shadow of the moon all alone with her lonely support
Innocent melted
Fool, said magpie before flying off to lands far away, safe
Donkey, said the beleaguered
Doe eyed son of the moon - and
Shadow of the moon smiled, said,
Come home, innocent,
It is yours too -
Not the same cave any more,
It is new,
Free of the pack.

Somewhere along the way the innocent had learned
Werewolves don't die
Nor change into human for good
Tales of their sprouting hearts are but tales
Perceived absense of their fangs merely due to
Depths of cave hiding them, and the
Depths of the cave are strewn with the dead innocents

Shadow of the moon waits, bound to the
Lake flowing out from the depths of the cave
One could say, no, thus far and no further, and
See the shadow of the moon recede into the cave
One could dare step in, and see
One's love, one's life torn to shreds
Yet one more time
Else
One could wait out
One's life, held by the thread from heavens
Not stepping into where the thread might be lost
Risk the shadow of the moon recede,
Tears in her heart refusing to let her know she was
Weapon of the wolf, not the manna she wished she were
To the innocents of the world.

When one has looked yet again upon
Shadow of the moon
It isn't that easy.
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She says he had turned human
Memories say otherwise
He was good at fooling her, and others
She, good at forgetting all that was bad, forgiving,
This is how one loses when tempers are temporary flares
Forgiveness a doctrine that
Ever has evil win

That his earthly envelope is gone they say
And a death glorified
Not deserved by such as he

Never mind forgiveness or forgetting
No reparations possible when
Lives he took and destroyed are
Beyond repair
They say, aren't you happy?
Not theirs to assert
When one has lost all but a shred
And holds it against all cold winds and heat of furies
It is but a mercy from heaven
All one earned gone with the strikes over and over
By the thief that took it all and gave it away to his faithful
And left one bleeding over and over, till satisfied
One would not get up again
Provide a lesson to others who might yet wish to follow and
Be independent
Now meanings are changed
Independence is about right to lure one not yet dead to the wolf's lair
And flying off safe oneself
To Gold cages and silver chains
Forgiveness is about stepping again into the
Lair of the werewolf
Deep shadows of the cave
And only a
Shadow of the moon
Reassuring as ever
There is no wolf,
Never was one.
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It was all your own stars, said the wolf
Others echo the words
Slightly rearranged or more
Laments of yore are a bore, they state flat out
One has lost a life, over and over
One merely wishes to return the
three pieces of brass square
So one's pain, one's being torn apart is
Not paid for.
This peace one shall not grant the werewolf
This little shred of one's own self
Once let go,
One could lose one's own self
For ever this time.

It is late autumn after all,
Winter has arrived on doorstep
And no time to go forth
Gathering a life for one's own
Yet again.

Shadow of the moon
Red Riding Hood
Could she be rescued?
Hope so. Don't know.
After all, she has been known to rebel too
And demand her rights of making her own decisions.
She has survived the cave, the lair, the pack
So, perhaps, she is all right -
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Civil on Internet

How does internet turn strangers into rude obnoxious marauders knocking on your door at any time they choose and demand you do this or that, not realising they are being uncivil and need to stop doing this?

How does one stop such intrusion into what one expects to be a contact page with one's acquaintances or friends, colleagues and relatives, with relevant exchanges of information and conversations?

How does one tell off a stranger it is not her or his business to ask if you are angry, or admonish you about praising someone because the praise does not fit their agenda which they have not really thought widely over?

How does one tell people it is a platform to exchange news and information, but not demand photographs or offer unwanted ones, and act as if they are your aunts or grandfathers when in reality they happen to be about two fifth of your age and obviously lack education judging from the behaviour and posts, apart from capacity to think and any semblance of civil discourse or interaction?

How does one make them stop badgering one with unwanted missives and attacks which they promise to continue no matter what one does, and execute the promise by simply attacking from another page with a false name?

Is it any different from thieves and pickpockets and common thugs, this random attacking of people they carry out?

Or should one conclude it is directed focused from a hidden source with an agenda? Should one say, flies are hard to get rid of and mosquitoes might be dangerous but pesticides seem to not work?

Should one expect humanity to behave better than pests at all, or not all of them at any rate?
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Once we suffered danger of heart attack and more, when living in a supposedly posh locality because the neighbours who thought they were posh began partying around midnight and had extremely loud noises that made it impossible to rest, what with walls shaking and more. If we went knocking on door where this "party" was taking place they would go silent, pretending there was no one there, but their own children inside were wailing and gave the pretense away. They were unwilling to stop and attacked us with garbage thrown in our balcony.

We moved to a supposedly not so posh neighbourhood for sake of peace and silence and hope it will not threaten us again. Hope.

How does one move away from marauders and attackers on internet? Or is the internet so full of beasts one can only escape by having no presence at all? Never say a thing, never post no matter who is posting obscene attacks against someone vulnerable, not protest when a murder of a scientist is being discussed and people are justifying it in name of faith?

Or does one simply take it now that life is war and one cannot run away? When facing Kaurava and co one has to do one's duty, speak out against murders of scientists and defend vulnerable young women, state truth and facts and reason, for if one stops perhaps all might and then falsehood will have won?
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Misuse of Brand India in restaurant in Paris

Old Kashmir near Boulevard St Germain in Paris was close to where we stayed the second time we visited Paris, and we went in for dinner, pleased to see a restaurant that declared itself as Indian on the board. We went in since the restaurant described itself as Indian, and expected vegetarian food to be that, vegetarian. Instead the food had something we could not identify except as unpalatable, and likely not vegetarian.

When at the door leaving, manager asked about it, possibly owners, and we informed them truthfully about what we thought. They did not deny it, but blamed it on local populace, and promised us genuine vegetarian food the next time.

We were not about to risk that, and come to think of it the unpalatable might not have been food at all, and in all likelihood the restaurant was Indian only in name. We had been served something horrible for sake of political revenge from across the border in a place far away, and this was bad behaviour in every way.

I have to say this behaviour was unusual, and we have visited quite a few restaurants in US and in Europe that were of owners from across the border and we had very good food and very friendly and courteous treatment in all of them, and felt wonderful.

As for the blaming on local people in Paris by this establishment, a lot of people eating around us asked for the same vegetarian food and were happy chatting with us, and the owner of the creperie next door informed us he did not have an extra pan to make vegetarian crepes for us, apologising for not being able to do so. We were overwhelmed with his finickiness about vegetarian food, and always remembered it as example of awareness in Paris. So this place blaming locals was fraudulent, although even if it were true they could have refrained from adding whatever it is they did to what they served us.

In short, one cannot trust this place.
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Discriminating Attacker

This began with an unpleasant surprise of someone pontificating about a piece I wrote in support of Preity Zinta who took action against being molested by a man with power and wealth. This woman objected to my calling her a brave woman of Rajput heritage, and demanded I remove that because it was discriminating against all other people.

This is seemingly a young woman of uncertain age but guaranteed inability to think over what she says before or after she says it, much less as she thinks. Lack of inability of thinking does not stop her from pontificating and rapping her betters with a big stick, since she respects only biological differences but not man made ones as per her declaration - she is probably correct about the former, but hypocrite at best about latter or outright lie deliberately maintained on lack of fear of someone seeing through or calling her on it.

After all it is highly unlikely she will marry a biologically desirable male or leave her husband for him, in spite of the said husband or a socially preferred suitor being of high position in society with wealth and position of power. She might be biologically inclined to, but she will then give excuse such as blaming parents or even her nation for her choice, and say that they won't allow her to choose someone she desires.

She is a fraud, racist, ignoramus and stupid who substitutes fashion for thought.

Here is the conversation which I cut short in spite of her daring me to block her, fully understanding she will continue to attack with another page.
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 Gogona Saikia

    You have written some brilliant things. I admire that. but seriously, maybe do away with the "Rajput brave woman" part. Maybe remove the "Rajput" part only. You are severely categorising women based on their caste/whatever it is, when it comes to bravery.
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    Today
    Jyotsna Gokhale
    11:48
    Jyotsna Gokhale

    If it were a Baangaalie I would have said someone from lands that worship Durgaa and Kaalie.

    Don't assume negatives. Saying something positive about one is not equivalent of saying negatives about all others.

    If PZ disliked her identity as Rajput she would not mention it, and if one is to say calling her Rajput is discrimination - why call her a woman in the first place, or you, or any woman? Why not force all world to adopt a dress and language that will never allow anyone to know what gender one is, and make it necessary to apply to legal channels to find out who one is attracted to? Perhaps that will come too, but meanwhile, other categorisations are minor.
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    Jyotsna Gokhale
    12:04
    Jyotsna Gokhale

    Come to think of it such removal of all identities would involve covering every face so no one knows who is from Asia, Europe or Africa - and more, no degrees or diplomas to anyone, since the mentally challenged or academically unwilling or underachievers might take it as negative - no awards, since others might take it as negative - no positions since those that do not get it are discriminated against - no children allowed to be brought up by parents, since there are orphans in the world - no marriages, since some are unable to find a match - no one should be given a salary, everyone equally beggars before world authorities - how far does removal of identity go? Those living might seem privileged to those dying, so ....? Funerals for everyone?

    Silly isn't it when one goes logical. No one questions the lack of logic underlying the assumptions of your post, not to mention the lack of whatever it needs, perhaps respect and reflection, that went into offering advice without thought.

    Unless you are my parents' generation, or older. Then free advice is not disrespectful.

    Goodbye, and please don't reply. Think if possible.
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    Today
    Gogona Saikia
    15:51
    Gogona Saikia

    LOL. irst of all, sorry for not remembering the context of what I sent this msg about. I cam guess a general abstract of what you had said though, that made me send this msg. nd I am pretty sure I am not older to you. Maybe sameage, maybe younger in fact. Also, your replies are too long for me to want to debate pointwise. o just off the top of my head, only one observation: I was juts taking a stand against man made categories that you are born with, which are quite unfair, wouldn't you say? The ones you mentioned, some of them are BIOLOGICAL, some of them are based on INDIVIDUAL CHOICES. Not that unfair or changeable, are they? lso, aa last advice from someone younger. Do try not to take so much of offence because of a random msg from a random stranger on the internet. If I were to start getting so worked up about what people I dont even know say to me, life would become very hard indeed. ake care!
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    Jyotsna Gokhale
    15:54
    Jyotsna Gokhale

    You would force everyone to accept your categories of which discrimination is OK?

    Biological is OK for you? So men beating women to death is OK? Rape, molestation, less or no pay? Why do you want to keep the biological discrimination that makes half the world free slaves without hope, and worse?

    About the so called Mab N

    Correction - manmade - categories. That includes discrimination along lines of wealth, possessions, titles, degrees, positions, nationalities, languages, almost everything. Rajput might be more DNA at that.
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    Jyotsna Gokhale
    16:03
    Jyotsna Gokhale

    You were wrong, however idealistic you think you are. Young and eager to prove you treat everyone equally. Do you? Is a stinking drunken goon just as good a candidate as a quiet man of position and education for a bridegroom for you? Even if the former is old and the latter approved socially re age for you?
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    Jyotsna Gokhale
    16:04
    Jyotsna Gokhale

    No, discrimination is not a bad word or act, you MUST discriminate between good food and garbage, especially when feeding a child.

    As for PZ, she does inherit it the proud tradition of Rajputs.

    So does India.

    Re last your advice, you are more and more offensive. Bye don't write back.
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    Gogona Saikia
    16:21
    Gogona Saikia

    "So men beating women to death is OK? Rape, molestation, less or no pay". O god this is not about discrimination! What are you even talking about. Rape, murder are crimes! "Is a stinking drunken goon just as good a candidate as a quiet man of position and education for a bridegroom for you?" As I said, these are based on choices, not something one is born with. Once again, I don't rem the context in which I msgd you, I don't rem who "PZ" here is. "You would force everyone to accept your categories of which discrimination is OK?" No I won't. I can't. How can I force anyone to do anything acc to me?Would you say I FORCED you to not call anyone Rajput? "That includes discrimination along lines of wealth, possessions, titles, degrees, positions, nationalities, languages, almost everything. Rajput might be more DNA at that." Personally, I find any kind of man-made categorisation unfair. I am not saying someone inheriting wealth and someone inheriting nothing is okay, but some things are just too deep to be argued on when I am talking to someone for the first time! You want me to argue about everything I actually think now? And whether you agree or not, the caste system is creating more bad than good. It might have been wonderful if the whole system was efficient, but it is not! More instances of misuse hence the whole unfairness. And do stop instructing me reply or not. I will reply, or won't, acc to what I feel like. Welcome to go ahead and block if you want.
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Jyotsna Gokhale
    15:54
    Jyotsna Gokhale

I get it, you respect biology and will attack old women preferably of not blond race, and only shut up if you think you are confronting a hefty male of a race likely to smash you to smithereens - that is what your discrimination against man made but respecting biological differences come to. So you will accept anything from someone biologically desirable, however low he might be in man made differences of wealth, position, power, social respect? No you will make up some other convenient theory to suit your discrimination on man made grounds.

You are not merely racist and misogynist but are justifying it by arguing man made vs biological differences, and as long as it is not you at receiving end, will go to the length of attacking anyone you have no hope ever of approaching level of even in logic of meaning of your thinking.


What you will not stop doing is attacking me. And you dare me to block you because you will continue to attack with another page. Until what, you manage to murder me via internet? Won't be the first time.

When you comprehend the horror of your disgusting behaviour you will wish to die of shame, and deserve it. One day soon you will understand how truly you are not only misogynist and racist but goon of nazi sort. But probably you already hate yourself for being the wrong gender.

How did your parents name you so correctly Go Go Na!
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Nostalgia - visited this that and other - Those Days

Vikings Tower on Norumbega Road
near Brandeis University MA
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I was informed about this by, and saw it with, a visiting scholar from Nordic Europe, around mid '80s. There was a plaque in masonry informing visitors about Viking history on the continent, how they visited and lived and traded from as far inland as Watertown, for several centuries, circa 11th century AD. They left due to loneliness since no mass migration was happening at the time. The place was beautiful, and still was a few decades later in 2011 when we visited the last time.

The place is eye opening in view of popularly taught history of much later discovery of the continent, and later on reading I found convincing details about how Norsemen and Vikings and indeed fishermen of Northwest Europe knew about lands across Atlantic, not only Iceland and Greenland but also the continent, which knowledge was kept a secret because it was a question of livelihood for the fishing community. The distance is much more in latitudes closer to the equator than closer to the pole, so one can easily surmise that it is all very likely true.

As I read other two reviews, I am unsure about veracity of the church, it was probably a watchtower as I recall reading on the plaque, a church after all needs a community and an official and is not merely a site to worship, but a tower is useful in looking out for ships and more.

The other review is a bit saddening, I recall this place as being serene, green and clear with the noise of the highways close by receding into a dim hum, conducive to peace and thought and more.
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Filene's Downtown Boston

I am not sure when Filenes closed, if it did. Google maps shows no department store across a small road from Jordan Marsh in downtown Boston when one looks now, and if it did close it must have been a nostalgic day for the many women used to finding treasures especially in the basement, so much so elsewhere there were stores called Filene's Basement that were totally above ground. Their policy of offering increasing discounts (25% first week, 50% next, 75% third week, fourth week donated to charity) had women gamble and hope they got more discount on what one wished one could afford, but looking at crowds of others doing the same it was hard not to grab it the first week if one really liked something. Once I have seen things fought over, albeit without physical attacks on the other person, but with firm claims on the object fought over not giving up physically.
.
Later other discount stores came up, I moved to the other coast, and then the era of online shopping. When did Filene's vanish without my noticing it? Last time I shopped at Filene's Basement was in NY in 2000 on a work related visit, and found treasures then too. Then I found other stores with more discounts on brands, one near WTC which then was still standing and we visited on my insistence. I am glad we did.

I am not sure who else misses the drive or otherwise arriving at the store and walking through it physically looking at things and trying them and balancing the budget with needs or simply temptations, but it was also educational for someone not of the place, and perhaps even for local women in some ways. And the walk to the place in winters was definitely bracing, exhilarating even.

A lot has changed and now the place is a café. Hope it offers as much to its customers as the store did, in joy if not in merchandise. If it is the same management, that is quite likely too.
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Galeries Lafayette

The first visit to Paris was memorable in so may ways, and Galerie Lafayette was one of them, surprisingly - having visited Boston and New York NY and more, Midwest with its separate stores, and London too, I did not expect a surprise with so much wonder and pleasure. And that too after visiting the lovely and stupendous sites of Paris, Louvre and Eiffel Tower and more.

I almost did not go there. My hostess told me this was a place worth a visit and I went in spite of doubts, and spent time in a smaller store across the road under the impression that this was it, and thought yes I know it was no big deal. Then I saw a store across the road and thought, let us see this one. And the wonder started.

It is difficult to describe the beauty of the place, the several floors with a circular gallery in middle overlooking a ground floor plaza and - was it? - a skylight overhead. To my surprise and delight, I found a few things worth buying even on the then very stringent small budget of a student, and they were lovely, and on huge discount. Which satisfied my self restrictions so as to not squander the little money I had.

The memory of the store remained forever as lovely as the cherry blossoms on a road across the Seine from Louvre we found on a spring visit much later.
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La Pyramide Inversée
and the
Pyramid du Louvre

My first visit to Louvre in '83 was before this pyramid came, and I had gone with a south American visitor who I met just the day before at the hostel. We came up out of the metro behind the whole complex of Louvre and I saw it as perhaps it should be seen, walking through the quadrangles of the once palace and seat of rule of France, before entering at one of the then current entrances of the palace. There was a good deal of repair and reconstruction going on and Venus de Milo was not to be seen.

Next visit was in another millennium and much had happened, the pyramid and its inverse inside, and Venus de Milo was on view too. So were other treasures of Louvre albeit I did not find some of the small things discovered in the earlier visit.

But the pyramids create their own space and atmosphere. Visitors queuing up to enter - and a long queue it is on a good day too, perhaps on a rainy day with hailstorm as well, who knows - have fun, what with children playing happily around the pyramid, young couples sitting relaxed, and some water features, everyone calmed and expectant about what treasures are on display one may see.

The inverted pyramid inside after one enters sort of continues the outside for a while, what with the pyramid inverted and light streaming in, and one usually does not notice it is in a different place unless one is paying attention. It forms a transition nicely, on the way to comparatively dark but full of wonders interior.

And if one has read Da Vinci Code, one feels just a little thrill, who knows - at any rate it is the historic longitude even if there is no crypt deep down under.
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Au Bon Pain

When Au Bon Pain was new in Boston area it was a thrill, finding so much so delightful, unlike the usual eateries with little on offer for a vegetarian. Not only Au Bon Pain had breads and sandwiches but lovely croissants to go with coffee and some really nice offerings - a favourite remained over years their cauliflower and cheese soup.

I remember stopping at Harvard square for breakfast between second and third bus to the early work hours, a one hour or more commute each way, just to have some respite and delight in the coffee and croissant. And on the way back for lunch with the cauliflower soup and a sandwich. Then onwards home to work on the thesis.

Recently we visited Burlington Mall and found Au Bon Pain to my delight, and it had gone exponential in variety of offerings, all delicious.
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Musée Marmottan Monet

This museum then was described as a good one in an excellent guide book I had bought before leaving for Europe and after seeing excellent museums of Boston, Chicago, New York, London, Louvre and Jeu de Paume in Paris (I am not sure if Orsay was a museum then but it is another good one since in this city of wonderful museums), I was hardly expecting more wonders.

Arriving after a delightful walk through quiet neighbourhood from the metro station, I wandered leisurely through the ground floor, looking at the furnishings - good - and other things on view, and went down the wide winding stairs almost as an afterthought, since I was used to museums storing much of their treasures and putting on display only a few things due to limitations of space. And there were some artworks on the ground floor, so I did not expect much more downstairs.

I am glad - oh, am I glad I went in spite of not expecting much! One really has to see it to know what I went through, and then have the same resonance with the art of not only Impressionists but Monet.

I don't know if I was there for more than an hour, probably was, sitting and standing alternately, and almost in tears before some of them for their beauty, sheer beauty. Later in the souvenir store I let all caution go to winds and tried buying all I could rather than the one card or so others in queue were buying, and the French resentment for US visitors was visibly restrained as they disapproved and said nothing. But I couldn't let the opportunity go.

I am still waiting for the home good enough to display the reproductions bought then and hope one day I can relax with them surrounding me in all their beauty.
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Boston Ballet

Somehow it does seem that four stars should be more than liked it, and five should be absolutely superlative. With Boston Ballet there were some very precious and treasured evenings of watching lovely performances.

The first time we went a colleague had invited and Rudolf Nureyev was to perform in Don Quixote with Paris Ballet, and all dressed up with high expectations off we went. Halfway through the performance I was wondering why the title performer seemed less of an attraction and the young lover more so, was I not artistic enough to know subtleties of ballet? I had assumed Nureyev would be doing the title role.

Then on it was an addiction not easily satisfied what with meagre economic resources and high costs of the evening, but then a few years later it became possible, just about, and I went ballistic, buying a year's subscription when offered on phone. So it began for the short year that it was.

There was the eternal superlative Swan Lake, and that was the first one we saw, with me a friend with her Russian heritage and therefore much more knowledgeable in ballet. I loved it, she had seen better and merely said she had as much or more fun watching me.

I don't remember which was the third one, because Sleeping Beauty I saw in NY with American Ballet, but in Boston I recall vividly performance of Romeo and Juliet, with its poignant music and its conception of Death as a character.

In between I was fortunate enough to see a film about Kirov Ballet in downtown Boston, and a performance of Swan Lake by Bolshoi on cable - then it was new - in the friend's home on their small television. It was a revelation, and remains the peak of my ballet appreciation so far.

What with beginning with Nureyev in Paris Ballet and finale with Bolshoi, still, the Boston Ballet with the two memorable performances we saw remain memorable. The music, watching them take flight as swans and perform as humans, everything fairy tale. As it is meant to be.
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Shopping Malls and Stores

A later addition to the place across the road from Watertown mall, Arsenal Mall was even those days a bit more pricy. Now it is far more glitzy, and one almost forgets the original purpose of malls when one visits the new glitzy ones.

Watertown Mall was everything a mall was originally supposed to be - a place where one could do necessary shopping (so there was a supermarket and at least one store to buy reasonably priced clothing and other household necessities), a couple of places one could stop and eat if one needed or wished to (pizza, frozen yogurt that was new then), and benches around central greenery amidst the aisle that connected the stores so one could rest if needed or wished, perhaps with a cup of coffee.

The new glitzy malls have little on offer to rest and often no stores for necessities shopping, only high priced glamorous and often not quite useful clothes and accessories, and one is expected to walk in, do little or no browsing and out with or without shopping - seemingly they do not care.

I have memories of waiting for an hour in freezing rain at bus stop after shopping for necessary stuff at Watertown Mall, or in cold winds in winter at bus stop near Fresh Pond Mall - but the new glitzy ones are for those that can park, hop in, buy a couple of things for a hundred or so, and leave, unless they indulge in ice cream (not food that sustains but only tantalises and leaves one unsatisfied).
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Jordan Marsh, Downtown Boston.


I don't now remember after over three decades if Jordan Marsh was the first department store I saw, but it was impressive for a good reason.

Other stores were closer or slightly less so, and certainly needed one to use a bus, so one often was waiting after shopping for necessities with heavy bags in a freezing rain or a cold wind making one shiver and questioning if one was wise to have decided to come to this place, is one going to survive, and so on, existential questions for the hour one waited or twenty minutes. But they were more affordable and one needed then to save every red cent one could, what with meagre salary and heavy rent in the city in those beginning days.

Jordan Marsh downtown was closer to the place of work and one could and did use the T, and it was a warmer travel what with the discovery of a direct entrance from the subway albeit one missed the thrill of a chill bracing wind one walked through if one went up to street level instead and saw the buildings around that were somehow reassuring.

And one could browse at leisure while salespeople were around to help if needed - which one did some times, being new. That was the memorable thing discovered accidentally but quite vitally.

I was battling with winter and needed warm boots, and a colleague had taught me to wait for discounts and look up prices until one could judge them to be right for one's budget, and of course one could not wait for ever, not for necessities. So it was a gamble. I bought waterproof boots in Jordan Marsh one of those winter days and wore them for a while.

But for what reason I could not fathom, for they had no hole or tear, my feet were wet - and so I went to Jordan Marsh apprehensively, and was apologetically narrating my reasons for doing so as I returned the boots.

It took me a couple of minutes to realise that the courteous salesperson - or perhaps one in charge of returned goods - did not need those reasons, that he was not questioning my honesty, and that he was listening out of courtesy.

This unquestioning acceptance of the customer's honesty in dealing with one's own needs, and helping courteously whether buying or returning, above all remains more in memory than the excellent clothes at reasonable prices - which have since gone up so much I wonder how poor students can afford them, and if not what do they wear.
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Waltham Supermarket

Those days it was simply Waltham Supermarket, and advertised right there on the board over the name as "the largest supermarket in the world". It seemed strange that anyone could say such a thing, after all internet was a few decades ahead and how would anyone know what size supermarkets were anywhere else in US much less in the world? Our European colleagues laughed about it.

But that was only for those that thought this was what it was about. For us living there and not wealthy enough to posses a car it was a lifeline, walking to the supermarket and walking back with groceries once a week if one could carry that much, else more often. Some people brought the carts home and left them on the curb, and the supermarket had employees collect them from all over the town and wheel them back. We thought that was infra dig. My housemate had a trolley, and if I needed it could borrow it.

The supermarket was not fancy but was plenty, there was never any shortage of things one needs or variety thereof. Later they set up a gourmet coffee counter where one could buy and grind fresh roasted beans, and we at home decided to share coffee and costs, and bought varieties in turn. I had by then been refined enough to understand if not imbibe the difference of instant vs fresh roasted and ground filtered, but that year of sharing it with my housemate, who was in a non judgemental and gentle way refined if anything, left no possibility of my ever again seeing instant coffee as anything but compromise. Later came Gevalia, and then I left town for a position across the continent.

I don't know if I can describe details or how it was special, but it was relaxing in a way now that I think back, and forever since I have this expectation of feeling better after shopping in a supermarket. Perhaps that was the gift of the Waltham Supermarket.

We visited a Hanaford supermarket in NH recently and it was more extensive in more fancy things. Is it just passing of time and people getting more aware, or more, I am not sure. Hope it is positive in any case.
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