Catherine Ann Jones, MA, was married to the novelist Raja Rao, who is usually clubbed together with R. K. Narayan & Mulk Raj Anand as the three that first established the international reputation of Indian fiction in English. A Fulbright Research Scholar to India studying shamanism for a year, she visits India usually every year, as India is her spiritual home.
She has played major roles in over fifty productions on & off- Broadway. Eleven of her own plays have been produced in and out of NYC. Her filmscripts include Unlikely Angel (Dolly Parton), The Christmas Wife (Jason Robards, Julie Harris, with 4 Emmy nominations), and the popular television series, Touched by an Angel. She has taught at graduate school (The New School University in NYC, & USC Film School in LA) & at the Esalen, Omega, & Pacifica Graduate Institutes. This is her eighth book.
Stories orient the life of a people through time, establishing the reality of their world. Thus, meaning and purpose are given to people's life. Without stories, we do not exist. They are how we discover who we are.
This particular collection of stories is imagined though sometimes inspired by fact. They came about because of a marriage that carried me away to far-off India, which, in time, became my spiritual home. India is a vast and complex country and one that can change a life, containing the highest mystical experiences side by side with the lowest dregs of humanity. From my own experience of living many years in India, the sublime mythology of this incredible and complex culture so permeates the personal that myth often becomes reality - and reality, myth.
Ancient countries and people are brought in, ideas from all climes and epochs mingle; myth, romance, and realism make up a single whole. For here the state is the human mind of all times.
Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems and Plays
The aim of these stories is to serve as a kind of portal into the daily lives and emotional realities that reflect the rich depth and humanity that is India.
Shortly after my 13th birthday, I summoned my courage and walked into a travel agency. I couldn't have done it without the support of my best friend, who shared the enchantment that claimed me. We must have looked peculiar to the man behind the counter. Our hair was pulled back into long braids, we wore improvised saris that only approximated the real thing, and the lipstick tikkas adorning our foreheads were starting to melt.
"How can I get a ticket to India?" I asked in a quavering voice.
"Where in India?" He was trying not to smile.
"Anywhere!" My friend and I breathed the word in unison, at which the agent lost control and burst out laughing.
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