The Holiest Island!

 

Not holy, Holiest Island!

 

 

Holy Island is incredibly a wonder of the nature.  Google reports that “the small population in Holy Island of just over 160 persons is swelled by the well over 650,000 visitors coming from all over the world every year”.  That itself is the wonder of the island in Northumberland. If an average is taken, per day 1780 visitors come to see the island and to roam the roads in the island. Holy Island has another name, Lindisfarne!

“What is there in the island?” That was my question to my son and daughter who had planned a trip to the Holy Island with an appropriate itinerary for me and my wife. “The island itself is the sight; need not to explain in advance.” Niya, my daughter uttered with pride in her mind as she was the discoverer of the island! Her claim was generated from the confidence that she had enjoyed from the three or four previous visits to the same spot with her guests from India, who stayed in their homes at Newcastle and Warwick.

Though the journey was around 11.00 am towards the Holy Island, Niya was applying a back-seat driving of our Jaguar, though Akhil, my son was the actual driver. Several times she was reminding us saying “we must come back from the Holy Island before the next high tide from the sea on to the cause-way.”  My wife and I couldn’t hide our doubt. “If there is high tide from the sea, what’s the real threat before us?” For this question Niya and Akhil didn’t answer clearly, but gave a poser to us to think over.

Our Jaguar was galloping through the straight narrow sea route like a horse to conquer the Holy Island, to where tens of other cars with visitors were moving carefully, because both sides of the cause-way were appeared low-lying and flat, but marshy or muddy without any sea-weed. ‘Does any smell of wet mud or sea-animals come to the nostril?’ Downing the closed window pane, I sensed the outer air. No! No bad smell from around! When the car reached somewhat the middle of the total distance to the island from the main land, there was a notice erected as a sign-board. ‘Visitors, come back from the island before water overflows this cause-way. Otherwise, you may be stranded in the island.’ There was one more warning 100 meters away from the first one, indicating clearly the attentiveness required on the journey. Then, without much explanation from Niya, I understood the inner meaning of her claim, why we should return from the Holy Island without much delay. “Today the high tide on the cause- way is by 4 o’clock.” Goggling on her mobile she told that like a discoverer of facts around her.   Niya is a doctor, safety first is her policy always.  Safe and unsafe time of the cause-way for that day was clear from a chart on the mobile, looking at which Niya showed much confidence about the journey to the island.

Car parking slot is as larger as to accommodate at least 1000 cars on the open space facing the North Sea. At a distance we can see an old castle.  After paying the car parking-fee, all the visitors were hurriedly walking towards the castle. It may take at least 20 minutes’ walk through the roads of the township. Almost all houses, shops and other buildings were old, seem at least aged two centuries. To my surprise, now the road takes a diversion, it leads to the castle that had been erected very close to the sea. Next diversion of the road ends at a place where there are three things, which reasoned the nomenclature Holy Island. What are those three holy things that gave the name to the island as Holy Island?

Can you imagine a Christian church built in 635 AD, fully constructed with black stone gathered from the place close to the site? St. Mary the Virgin church stands with all its grandeur and splendour facing to southern direction, where the visitors could see the outer walls of another old building. Inside the church there are volunteers speaking to the visitors, who are also serving pamphlets and souvenirs. How enthusiastic and proud were the volunteers to explain the antiquity of the church! Listening to them and reading the notices inside the church, so many questions came to my mind: ‘In the 7^th century when the church was built, how many priests and laymen were there in the island? Where are those houses they lived? Those days how did they come to the church, crossing the dangerous cause-way? Or did they live in the town-ship near the church and going out of the island, once-in a while to buy things from the market in the main land?’ At present there is a lower primary school and a high school in the town-ship.

The second reason for naming the island as Holy Island was very clear when we stepped out of the church, which is under the control of the Church of England. As a most common scene with almost old churches in UK, the cemetery appeared before us. Outer wall of the cemetery keeps the boundary to show the nearby low-lying marshy sea-shore. The marshy shore was covered with rubbles and broken granites. In the cemetery, all the tombs have indicators showing the names and family names of persons, who were laid in to eternal sleep fourteen centuries before our visit, and recently? ‘Who are they, men and women of the parish? How was the funeral of that time? Have the relatives cried at the burial?’ As of a visitor interested on antiquity of any construction, my thoughts were flying back in to the olden days of the island. Due to the oldness, certain names on the tombs were not clear to read, where some parts of the outer stone-slab had been faded or decayed naturally.

On crossing the meadow around the church, we were moving in to the reminiscences of a huge building. Roof of the building had been devastated due to some reasons! Was it a storm, weakness of the construction or a purposeful demolition? Foundation and basement of rooms are clearly seen within the high outer walls. “This was the monastery close to the church and the cemetery. There lived Christian monks in this monastery...” Niya, my daughter was describing better than a tourist guide, out of her previous knowledge about the place. Inside the walled area a priestess was getting ready to lead a prayer service.  The priestess was clothing herself the cassocks and surplices near the lighted candles. To my surprise, I noticed once again! It is a priestess, she is about to begin an important prayer service there in the presence of two altar boys or assistants. From the first sight itself I could understand that, that was a rare thing in a Catholic church and thus, it was a practice followed in the Church of England or Methodist Church. Priesthood is effectively shared to women also! This old monastery is the next valid reason for naming the island the Holy Island. Thus every inch of the island is holy, altogether to be renamed as the Holiest Island.

Coming out of the three holy places, we thought of taking some food from any eatery in the township.  Searching an eatery, we reached near a wine-shop. “… But this wine shop has a speciality, here the wine is produced and sold out through an outlet run by the priests of St. Mary the Virgin church, exclusively for the island. The wine has the unique age old process of production.” When Akhil explained the uniqueness, everyone supported him to buy two bottles, as a testimony for our visit to the Holy Island. He has kept these two full bottles unopened even now, sometimes he may open one when a dearest guest visits his home in Warwick.

Here is that London …

 

Here is that London …

During my one-month life in UK in May 2025, Akhil, my son and Niya, my daughter had properly planned a comprehensive itinerary to enjoy a quick visit of the most important places in that country. London was proposed as the climax of all the visits, for which one full day had been marked in their planner, with details: where to go, when to go and how to go.

 

Though all the seven days of the week were found convenient, from some other vagaries, Monday was found most suitable, mainly because that day there would be the Guards’ Changing Parade in the front yard of the real Buckingham Palace. Reading the Google, Niya announced the final decision on Sunday, the previous day of our journey “… Start from here at 8 o’clock, we will be there at London by 11, before noon.

As our car was flying faster than a swiftly moving bird through the motor way, Niya firmly told “We will reach Wembly within two hours. From Wembly we shall take the London tube to reach Buckingham Palace.” As the journey in that morning freshness was found comfortable and cheerful, Akhil and Niya invited me and wife to go into a spacious wayside shop to take coffee and snacks. At least 500 cars of the sight-seers were parking in front of that coffee-house where I remembered a parody of a saying “… all roads are leading to London.” That’s why cars are plying to London and the tourists were cheerful in the cars.

On reaching Wembly, we walked to the first station of the London Tube to begin our trip to London to catch a metro train. Why is it known ‘a tube?’ The answer was there itself, which could be realized easily. London Tube is an electric railway operating below the surface of the ground on which roads and houses were built in the city. The tube like compartments runs through tube like tunnels. This may be the reasons behind naming the railway to Tube.

Though functioning on high-end technology, tear-and-wear to the parts of the engine and compartments had caused unfriendly jerks and rattling sounds inside the compartments. When the train moved forward, within two minutes we could see the world famous Wembly Stadium on the left side of the rail. “Is it not the stadium where India vs. England cricket match happens often?” To my doubt Niya answered properly “Not only cricket, but the site of English National Stadium of soccer and the capital of other games.”   Niya’s interests were versatile to react to any situation of the journey. “This is a 40 minute journey to Buckingham Palace, somewhere in the middle of London.”

Sitting in the train my thoughts got wings to fly back into the history, ‘When did I first know about London? It was 55 years before, when we were learning the abridged version of Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist in class IV, I first learned about London from a book.

The story goes like that, Oliver, an orphan in his early teen, escapes from the miseries in the orphanage run by Mr. Fabin and his wife. There Oliver walks through the streets of the sub-urban portion of London city. His intention was to reach the heart of the city before dawn, so that he may hide himself from others who may identify him and take him back to the orphanage from where he escaped. ‘Is this part of the city, where Oliver the teen aged character strolled through the streets? Is this the East End of London where the writer, Charles Dickens and his characters lived in?  East End of London was known for poverty of the people and lack of cleanliness, which came out as the by-product of fast industrialization in England of in 17-19 centuries?’  These were the questions that flashed through my mind. ‘If so, where is the West End of London, where there were the civilized, educated, sensible, rich and fashioned people lived in?’

Though the train was moving further, when it reached ‘Buckingham Palace’ 70% of the seats in the compartment were emptied, almost all are steadfastly moving to only one direction. Ninety percent of the people on the short-cuts and thoroughfares were natives, for them the sight of Buckingham Palace and the paraphernalia around the palace were also of nostalgia of two centuries when Britain was the most powerful nation and colonial power up to the end of World War II. Buckingham Palace and the Guards’ Changing Parade bring in the memories of legacy, pomp and pride of modern democratic government where queen’s freedom was constitutionally restricted.

Guards’ Changing Parade happens three days in a week: Monday, Wednesday and Friday,  the days can be known from Google, looking which the tourists can plan their visits. When we reached the spot the limited space on the galleries were filled in by the spectators. When there heard the sound of beagle, a platoon of guards on horse-back moved into the compound through the small gate of the palace. When these guards report for duty the guards who were on duty inside the compound were relieved of their duty. There is a combined parade in which a platoon transfers their authority and the other platoon accepts that authority. Those who relieved from the authority moves out of the main-middle gate, as the two small gates would be closed. When this Guards’ Changing Parade is happening inside and outside the palace, thousands of spectators who were thronged on the galleries and the especially reserved places would say ‘Hi’ to the platoon who moves briskly on their horses. Though the spectators were cheering up the guards, on the house back they were seemed serious and highly attentive to their duty. This platoon who came out of the main gate presents a short and simple ‘show’ before they disappear leisurely into their camps, close to the palace. By them the policewomen on bicycle or horse control the thousands of spectators to disperse themselves. But an interesting thing noticed here was that, no spectators were leaving away from the palace ground even after two hours of the end of the Guards’ Changing Parade. For some hours almost all tourists were setting locations for selfie-shooting using their mobile phones and creating invaluable memories about their visit to headquarters of the democratic the Republic of Great Britain, inside which Kamilla Parker, the Queen and her husband George were living happily and peacefully with their constitutional responsibilities. We also did the same as other tourists in the compound did: searching comfortable lawn to lie open to the sky, chewing biscuit, drinking water and posing differently for photos to get the background of red roses in the garden. On lying back on the green and thick turf the visitors could notice flights from different destinations of the world were approaching incessantly any of the airports, sometimes at the rate of one flight in a minute. “Taking the density of air traffic, London, once the capital of the world has now four active and busy airports. “ Akhil knows more about the geopolitics of UK than anyone in my family.

It took one hour to get out of the campus of the palace through the sub gate to the Drowning Street. London, though a city with a heavy traffic on the streets normally appears calm and noiseless, that noon there appeared a crowd of people from Kenya, an African country. Thronging on the opposite side of the 10 Downing Street, these Africans were shouting slogans “Go back our Prime Minister, without visiting British Prime Minister!” Without much enquiry, their objective was clear to the police and the tourists. London accommodates protests and posters for expression of opinion and freedom even to foreigners at the gate of the 10^th house, the official residence of British Prime Minister., for the last 20 decades. Britain never go back in assuring the right of peaceful expression, the slogans continued some more time, “Our Prime Minister in Kenya, you are a killer of innocent people. Go back from London!” In the voice their opposition has been culminated.

The main square of the

Rome was not built in a day! This saying is most suitable to London than Rome or Vatican.

Amidst the social, political and environmental challenges, how London does stronghold its antiquity and legacy even at the brim of the first quarter of the 21^st century? Consistency

 

By 7 o’ clock evening we came back to Wembly, the town from where we embarked our trip in the morning to London through the Tube. Taking Akhil’s Jaguar from the parking slot, we were to take dinner from an Indian restaurant, which seemed as a Tamil franchisee hotel to which Keralites, Tamilians, Africans, Asians and a few British were briskly moving in and finding vacant seats and tables before ordering South Indian menu according to own choice. The attendants and the waiters, mainly women were multi-lingual in communication to all as they want.

Seating on the chair, waiting for the chappathi and curry observed around so as the commuters to the hotel un-notice my eyes. ‘This is a hotel where people from different Asian countries meet and share their culture and language.’ My thoughts were flying over and above the warmth and hotly cooked chappathi and slightly spicy curuma. There how exactly the scene depicted by Imthisar Hussain came to my mind in her poem, that she wrote somewhat five decades during her life in Wembly.

Leamington commemorates the end of World War II

 

Leamington commemorates the end of World War II

 

 Leamington is the most beautiful town than the nearby Warwick, Coventry or Kenilworth. This town has a city square near the main car parking area. The main road in between the long line of three or four storied buildings has at least a width of forty meters. The buildings have a sort of uniformity in physical appearance. I remember they have pale lemon colour. ‘What are these buildings for?’ As I couldn’t see much people on the roadside and pathways I asked myself. ‘Are they super-markets, banks or offices?’ As I could see only a small number of passers-by and a few vehicles passing too leisurely, I could reach a conclusion easily. Leamington is an overtly calm and quite small town with tranquility everywhere, except a small crowd of aged people thronged with bereavement on their faces! They are busy to be engaged in a function, a public function!

‘What is going to happen here? What are these senior citizens going to do now in the city square?’ Some questions came to my mind. Understanding my mix-up Akhil, my son took his mobile to refer and then to explain to me. “ … Today, May 8^th is the end day of World War II in Europe. These citizens are going to commemorate the day through a small function.” He told us after a reference to the Google. Akhil is highly skillful in using Google for removing any barrier at any context of journey, including finding out right ways with road map.

World War II officially came to an end in Europe on May 8, 1945 when the German forces surrendered themselves submitting their failure on the previous day, i.e. May 7. Other war fronts opened by Japan were continued till the dropping of atomic bombs in August 1945 in Hiroshima and Nagasaki by the US. The escalation of war by the nations to the World War ended with immense miseries, unemployment and destruction to cities and towns everywhere in Europe, Britain was the most hit nation than the Rome-Berlin-Tokyo axis powers. When the people of Europe came to know about that particular date of ceasefire eighty years before, a sigh of cry or happiness came out of their hearts. So the present commemoration is remarkable in the life of the elders in Leamington.

 

World War was extra-ordinarily expensive for Britain, which became exhaustive; agriculture, industry and transportation were devastated. Some cities and towns were severely mutilated or partially wiped out in the bombing of the axis powers. Attacks by submarines were heavier in the seas around the British Isles. Shortage of money, food and other supplies on one side and unprecedented inflation on the other side broke the backbone of the British economy. Sons or husbands or other relatives were among the killed, lost in the war or wounded in the horrific war. Tears of mothers, fathers, wives or daughters would have formed into streams, nobody could console their neighbours. But, on this day, 80 years before, peace came back to Europe. It’s highly meaningful for the super-seniors of Leamington to commemorate May 8, as the victory day of World War II. ‘Actually, did the war bring sustainable peace or victory at any time of history of the humans?’  With the thought I moved away from the place to walk through other streets of the town.

On coming back and passing through the same location, the function to commemorate the victims of the war had been started. National flags of Britain were sprawled out into the air by almost all seniors who part took the ceremony.

Someone seemed as a leader or veteran dressed up in black with credentials on the shoulders speaks through loud speaker. “… Eighty years have been passed after the day of ceasefire of the World War II. Time fails to sooth the wounds of the war. Remembering our beloved ones who were the victims or affected in the war, we bow our heads. In the name of Jesus, now we all pray for them …”. Thus the prayer service in Leamington was started.

‘Is there similar functions in other towns?’ On our journey back, I was anxious to see similar functions in nearby Warwick. Victory Day is a day of commemoration in almost all towns. But I was disappointed to see anything of the kind what I saw at Leamington. ‘The new generation has no interest to commemorate the past. Children, students or youngsters are absent… ” My thoughts came out as a comparison of sights.

Somewhat at the fringe of the town, the public park of the town begins. As the town, so the public park! Everywhere tranquility is the mood of the town.  Green lavishness never ends even beyond the park. The park has been stretched into acres of land! So we thought of going back from the public park before the late sunset, with a conflicting mind about World War and freedom struggles in British colonies. Do the British remember now what their older generation lulled once? “The sun never sets in the British Empire.” We took quick steps to reach the car parking area.

Oxford and Oxford University

 

Oxford and Oxford University

Oxford University in UK requires no introduction to anyone who knows anything about higher education facilities anywhere in the world. Oxford might be the first in the UK in all rankings, including QS World or TIMES. Oxford University comes within the five positions in the world. As a teacher and as an educational planner, it was a great desire in my life to see the university and the city that bestowed the name to the university. Understanding my wish as in a ‘telepathy’ Akhil and Niya, my son and daughter had properly planned the itinerary for the one-month life in UK, in May 2025.

The journey in Akhil’s Jaguar took only 50 minutes to cover 44 miles from Warwick on M40 road, through which he could drive his obedient vehicle with much confidence and skill even switching off the Google map. “Highways and ordinary roads in UK have much quality, like that of any other country in Europe.” I shared my observation. But Akhil and Niya judged first grade to the roads in Switzerland than France and UK. “In Switzerland the roads are well maintained and smooth than any other country in the European Union.” Both of them were saying their evaluation from the experience of their tour in these countries, just one month before my visit to UK. So their evaluation is most credible about the quality of National Highways in Europe.

Leaving the car inside the car-parking-area we are beginning our expedition to see the Oxford University. The roadsides seemed busy, most of the people on the pathways were returning to their homes or to the places they stay. “Oh, by my watch, the time is 5 pm. The classes might have been completed now. The students, teachers and the administrative staff are leaving their offices.” Akhil and Niya confirmed my observation. For Akhil and Niya that was their fifth visit through the same route toward the same direction. We, I and my wife walked behind our children, who were explaining with enthusiasm about the oldest university in the English-speaking world. There is clear background for their interest to speak up about Oxford! One of them is an engineering scholar and the other one is a medical graduate, both of them are hailing from well-known Indian universities. Though I was a student for several educational programmes in Indian universities in the capacity of a student and as a research scholar, I was little bit envious of the students coming from the opposite side of the roads. With that envy I stared at the girls and boys who were stepping down from the buildings around and sprawling on the street.

Nobody could count them when they return to their hostels or co-living rooms briskly. University site says that they have 27000 students, 7000 plus teachers and 8000 plus administrative staff spread over the university campus. Think of the face, colour and complexion if these students and staff who are hailing from somewhat 80 different countries from Eurasia, the Americas and Oceania. ‘What would be the diversity that these students demonstrate in the classrooms? What are the languages they would speak? They speak different languages: English, too little! But other languages: French, Spanish, German, Swedish, Dutch, Chinese, Arabic, Japanese, Hindi, Tamil and even Malayalam  were heard around while the boys and girls move hand in hand.’ My envy flew up and up seeing their jubilation on the street. ‘My dear students from all the continents of the globe, do you know where you are now? You are in the university that produced 31 British Prime misters starting from Spencer Compton and extending to David Cameron, Theresa May, Boris Johnson, Liz Truss, Rishi Sunak and Keir Starmer. My dear youngsters, do you know that the departments in the University were factories that created 72 Nobel Prize laureates: they were once students, researchers or professors in the classrooms from where you’re stepping out into the busy and narrow streets where motor vehicles are not permitted now. Sometimes, you may know all these stories of the past! But you all hide your ignorance on your face…’

My envy turned into jealousy towards them, who were chattering and chuckling in their circles. Most of the students were crossing the roads to find appropriate coffee shops or eateries to enrich their evening, for they might have been caught fatigue in the classrooms or laboratories for longer hours’ involvement. ‘Ok good, let them enjoy on the streets of Oxford!’ I wished good luck in my mind.

Akhil and Niya took us first to the Sherdonian Theatre, construction of which was completed in 1669, that means, somewhat six centuries after the commencement of Oxford University. Out of much curiosity to know what all things are there inside, we walked up to the gate to go inside. The gates were closed before us, for we were late to buy the entry ticket before 5 pm. “No problem, shall we take a round of the theatre and/or take some group snaps to show others as the testimony of the visit?’ Niya had a plan to shoot the scenes to make reels, where I was compelled to act according to her direction.  So we took a round of the eight-sided theatre. “Though the name of the building is theatre, no drama or film is on here. Actually this is hall in which convocation ceremonies and other important functions were happening.” Our son and daughter shared their knowledge appropriately. Hearing this explanation, my thoughts were rowing into the past in the form a question airing to the students and tourists around: ‘Have you any idea where you are roaming now? Do you know great English writers who were educated in Oxford? The list goes like: Philip Sidney, Jonathan Swift, Samuel Johnson, William Morris, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Oscar Wilde, Lewis Carroll, T.S. Eliot, Evelyn Waugh...  Do you know the names of Nobel laureates who came to the Sherdonian theatre to receive their degree certificates? The long list goes like: Dorothy Hodgkin, who won the Nobel Prize in Chemistry in 1964, and John Goodenough, who was awarded the Nobel Prize in Chemistry in 2019 for his work on lithium-ion batteries. Additionally, Malala Yousafzai, the youngest Nobel laureate, was a student at Oxford. Yes, this is a holy place. We shall not sit here or stand here no more time!’ My feelings came out like this. So we thought of seeing the next holy place just in front of the Sherdonian theatre – the Christ Church.

          But the main door of the Christ Church had been closed as we couldn’t buy the entry pass on time. We went to the front side and the right side of the church. The churches in UK shall not be opened inattentively. So we couldn’t go into that holy place also. Stunned by the antiquity of the church building I tried to read a notice fixed near to the entrance, ‘This church was founded in 1546 by King Henry VIII.’ That means, the church has been there for the last five centuries.

 

          “Where are the departments and classrooms of the university?” That was my genuine question, for which Akhil answered. “The departments and the classrooms are sprawled in different parts of the busy city of Oxford.” With the anxiety to see them we walked downward on the road to read one by one. “Department of Mathematics, Physics, Chemistry, Economics, History …”. The list is not in any order! In that busy evening on the streets we couldn’t complete the surveying. From Wikipedia I have understood that there are five major divisions and somewhat 80 departments affiliated the Oxford University in the Oxford city.

 

By 7pm on that sunny evening I noticed that the streets became deserted when the shop keepers pulled down the shutters or closed the entrances. The eateries, book shops and textile shops were closing their business when the students were going away from the streets and bus-bays. ‘No doubt, this is a city of students! This is a city for the students! This is a city by the students! This is a city built up only for learning and construction of knowledge.’ My thoughts went up on this line.

There was two more hours for sunset. A cold wind passed in between us, which had also a sweet fragrance of antiquity and appreciation.  “This Oxford, I have no doubt is the finest City in the world.” Who told this about Oxford? Though I didn’t know the answer, the quote echoed in my ears.