TOKYO  TALES

Prayers do get answered. Way back in 2005 at the Meiji Shrine at Tokyo, I going with the flow, had written down my prayers on the little wooden tablets called ema  and hung it at the designated spot, more like a prayer wall. Among other things I had selfishly asked that I may be able to come back again, but with the family. Twelve years later I was back and this time with the husband. The daughter couldn't be there. Obviously, more prayers were made. This time not on the ema but on the slip of papers provided for the purpose and put in an envelope. Need one say what the fervent prayer/wish was!

The first time I saw the giant billboard like structure, more like a tapestry with ceramic barrels, adorned with beautiful scripts and images, arranged in a row way back in 2005, I assumed that they were prayers- like the Buddhist prayer flags- or something holy. What else could they have been, right there on the way to the Meiji Shrine in Tokyo.  The Shrine is dedicated to the souls of Emperor Meiji (1852-1912) and his wife Empress Shoken. But even as I admired them I was told that they were advertisements for Sake! And my attention was drawn to the much smaller board next to it which proclaimed, 'Provenance of the Bourgogne Wine for Consecration at Meiji Jingu'. Not just that. It further says, ' The barrels of wine to be consecrated at Meiji Jingu have been offered by the celebrated wineries of Bourgogne of France on the initiative of....' and goes on to name the representative of the House of Burgundy in Tokyo etc! That's Japan - never take it at face value!

This time I was prepared. But this nature had the surprise in store. Our plan was to visit the shrine the next morning after our arrival. Tokyo woke up to pouring rain. Undeterred we bought two umbrellas - the folding kind, remember we are Indians and what is purchased must be carried back. It's another story we came back with just one - and marched headlong, rain or no rain. By the time we neared Meiji, the rains had reached Noah proportions and I wouldn't have been surprised to see an ark positioned nearby. We had to, per force, take a breather at the cafe overlooking the huge Torii gate entrance. The cafe had a ledge like balcony sitting outside. A middle aged Japanese man dashed across and took shelter there, sitting one of the chairs. An employee walked outside, bowed and said something to him. He got up, bowed and walked back into the rain. The section was not open. Close your eyes and transport what just transpired to India, or rather Delhi.  Genealogy abusing would have been the least of the fireworks that would have resulted! It's true the Japanese are so mindful and so concerned not to offend anyone, that one becomes ultra conscious to be civil. Soon it becomes a habit, until of course till you get back.  

Religion and rituals are not exactly the strong point of the family but without second thoughts we find ourselves at the water basin to perform Temizu, or washing of your hands before going into the shrine. There are bamboo dippers to scoop out the water. You also rinse your mouth. There is a particular way to do that and the best way is to take the lead from the locals. On the last visit, a warm summer day, there was not much crowd around. This time despite the fiery rains, there were people everywhere and mostly locals. During the previous visit, the sight of a Japanese wedding  procession with the bride in all traditional white had halted us in our steps. This time too, a bridal team is huddled in one corner, maybe they are waiting for a break in the rains.  What grabs my attention is a young girl and her mother attired in traditional garb. They happily pose for the camera. Interestingly, increasing number of youngsters in Kimonos can be seen at many shrines. Turns out that that there are shops near the shrines where one can hire them!

Like everything Japanese, all the shrines are stately  and admiration evoking, but the first sense at Meiji is what can best be defined as solemnity,something deeply sacred.The thousands of tree all around the shrine accentuate that feeling further. The original plan was walk across to Yoyogi Park after the shrine visit because there is where you can see 'Americanism'  at its best in Tokyo with pop groups to hip hops to now-what-is-that music and musicians and dancers, fancy dress parade of a kind, Gothic, comical, sorry comic and anime characters, dressed up dogs and more - just let it out there, especially on Sundays. Thanks to the rains we drop the plan and that was when, on the way back, I spied this swanky red car discreetly parked under an ancient carved roof and behind a row of young trees. I don't know if its part of the shrine or if the vehicle has an exalted status there, but it made a surreal picture.

After the serenity of Meiji Shrine, Takeshita Dori (street) in Harajuku is like a slide show shift from the sublime to the rambunctious. It's just one long narrow street for hip and hep youngsters to shop. The Japanese youth, at least that was that it looked like to me, seem to excel in combining the latest western fashion trends with their own one of its kind fashion sensibilities. Often, the outcome misfires! There were several moments of oh-god-I-hope-she-doesn't-fall-over with petite, more will-o-wisp figures going chunk chunk on unbelievable block heels!The street is said to have an overdose of 'kawaii' or cute. Well, there is just that much of cuteness one can ingest but yes I will go back there just for this one tiny Ramen joint, which had been recommended to us by someone in the know, and boy did it deliver?  

 

 

It seems that wherever we go, there is at least one misadventure.  And so it was on this trip too. The Imperial Palace plan was a wash out literally. But there was apparently an antique market, Odeo Antique market somewhere near the Tokyo International Forum.   We reached the Forum all right but there was no sight of the said market. This despite the good old Pupuru Wi-Fi rental device that kept telling us go xxx metre and turn right, go yyy metre and turn left. That was the little pocket sized gadget that the husband had apparently rented and it was waiting for us at the hotel reception. It was promptly christened Pupu putar (son) by the husband! It was also often referred to as Shravan, the mythological Indian character who carried his blind parents in two baskets, tied on either end of a pole which he balanced on his shoulder so as to take them on a pilgrimage.  The husband's Shravan Putar was a miserable failure. We admired the Forum building, stocked up on beverages (lets leave it at that!) and checked out what looked like a Farmer's Market where all the salesmen wore front open black robes. Ninja salesmen? Back to Shinjuku it was.

 

 

 

After the ceaseless rain and the missing antique market, salvation was what we were seeking. Because only Shinjuku could provide that we agreed. The evening of our arrival, where else but Shinjuku it was. Because there is where the Golden Gai is with over 200 bars crammed into some six or so really narrow alleys. Jowl-by-cheek, some so tiny that barely 4-5 guests could fit in. Even the biggest ones there could at best hold 8 people. Picture two ginormous book ends packed so tight that taking out one book is a nightmare. With ceaseless sloshing of rains, umbrella dots all over, neon lights above, some dimmish alleys and a rather boisterous air, it would have been  exciting but for the discomfort of rain soaked sneakers. Golden Gai is said to have started sometimes in the 1950s and not much seem to have changed except for the advertisements everywhere. We do what the locals do - hop bars and sample food that we haven't tried before. This is where I fall in love all over again with Umeshe, the Japanese wine distilled from small stone fruits from plums, cherries, apricots and such. My all time high remained and remains Plum Umeshu. A few chunks of ice and wine is a straightaway passport to bliss.

 

Somewhere in Shinjuku, out of the Golden Gai, it happened again. On most of my travels I seem to stumble upon a road/lane in a quiet corner that seems to be heading somewhere and all the while calling me. Strangely, all such roads seem to either take a turn and disappear or head straight into wilderness. There it was again, a tree line side lane barred to traffic, lit up from top with some hazy light streaming in, in fact steaming in would more like it. The way the light appeared, it almost seemed to be that of a small UFO hovering somewhere above preparing to land! A few umbrella armed souls braving the downpour appeared to be striding across purposefully. I don't know where the lane led to, because after a while it curved into the right and vanished into the night. It seemed dreamlike but with that undecipherable element of chill. All the noise faded away. One day, one fine day or night I will venture into one such road and see where it leads.  Or maybe not.