White Elephant

Gateway Peace March

2008-12-09T06:24:00.001+05:30

http://www.millionface.com/l/mumbai-india-gateway-peace-march-dec-3rd/

Blast

2008-12-03T10:19:00.003+05:30

It's taken me a little time to digest what happened in Mumbai. I still have a perpetual sinking feeling thatI know is related to a prolonged reaction to the stream of news and updates throughout thanksgiving. I have heard news from or of most people I care for. The others I prayed for on mutiple visits to the temple ( unusual for me) and my own personal send up daily. I felt unnerved mostly because i had been to most of th eplaces where explosions and violence occurred, some place many times. Also I thought of when the blasts occurred and I did not feel endangered, but had my folks in a tail spin about my safety because some of those blasts occurred on the line I took to and from work. K watched the footage and followed the news online too. He is thankful that we are not in Mumbai dealing with the madness of the events. I feel differently. I still love that city despite all of its harassing factors. I really hope there isn't a huge backlash in India because of these events. I also hope that India and Pakistan handle the issues at hand civilly. If terrorists do exist, then a feud between the two countries would divert their focus and leave room for more insidious acts of violence.

Found some hills in the flatland

2008-11-13T06:40:00.002+05:30

So in the past 10 days I have made some progress in learning to love the flatland. We now receive the local paper daily. This is a big step for us. Usually I read the A section for the days news, the front page of the B section for city news and the obituaries. Recently I read a very interesting obit about Rosella Hightower. Apparently our local obit editor thought it was important also as it was taken of the wire from Oklahoma City. She was a native american and a ballerina. In 1997 five native american allerinas were reunited when they were deemed ohlahoma treasures. the other ballerinas were Maria Tallchief, her sister Marjorie Tallchief, Moscelyne Larkin, and Yvonne Chouteau. I know that Louise Erdrich usually focuses on the ojibwe, but i could see a really lovely book about any of these women or intertwining their stories. These are very accomplished women. Maria Tallchief worked with George Balanchine and Hightower opened her own now prestigious dance school in Cannes, France after dancing to critical acclaim in New York, Paris and other european cities. I can also see a documentary in this.

The flatland is growing on me a bit. I have met a few people that I find engaging. That's a step toward better ,right?

I also did find a hill in a town close to the flatland. It was a beautiful fall drive.

another version

2008-09-19T20:49:00.009+05:30

Turf
Walk-in closet
Adding, piling, fighting
Rebel clutter never retreats
Turf

Turf Wars

2008-09-19T20:49:00.006+05:30

So lately in my household the state of a walk-in closet has been the subject of some heated discussion. I relieve my stress with a cinquain:

Closet
Clothing piled
Loathing, Staring, Cleaning
Rebel clutter never retreats
Closet

I started thinking about poetry again, because a classmate wrote a sestina to present the theory of evolution as relevant to child development for a psych/ed class we take. It was quite brilliant and motivated me to go back to my roots and favorite escape- tinkering with the cogs of imagination through writing.

wall decals

2008-07-02T03:18:00.002+05:30

I love them!!! I used them to decorate our main bathroom and now I am searching for one for our dining room and another for our bedroom. This latest design trend sings to my often fickle heart. You can find them everywhere, even at Target. Some of my favorite sites are Adzif, dVider, and Zozo living. A friedn told me that 3M makes some cool graphic prints, but i haven't found them yet.

The decals are removable ( great for apartment living) and cheaper than buying framed artwork just to match your decor. Since we've moved to Cleveland for the time being we have moved into an apartment that doesn't have much character. So the wall art satiates my need to spice up this place and high-fives hands my lazy, noncommittal side over not having to paint ( and possibly repaint) all of the walls.

it's been almost a year

2008-04-11T09:46:00.003+05:30

tidbit: after i came home from india last summer i went to see my gp for a check up. at that time she told me that my hemoglobin level was higher than the normal range. she said such a phenomenon was possible due to prolonged exposure to pollution and often occurred in smokers. a few weeks ago she retested my hemoglobin level and found that it is now in the normal range. the only major change being a drastic improvement in the pollution level. I am mildly shocked that mumbai was so polluted as to catalyze a physical reaction. I spoke to k about my the reaction and he said hemoglobin levels increase when your body is not getting enough oxygen.

it's also been a year since the death. i think about her daily. i was afraid to go to india and be in the spaces she had inhabited. i went to india for a wedding for about 48 hours ( travelling mishaps shortened the trip considerably). I slept in her room for four hours. the energy in the room brought to mind peace and vitality- the feeling i have when i watch the ocean for hours. i slept peacefully as she bid goodnight and blessings to me and my sister.

the week has landed on my head

2008-02-20T10:36:00.003+05:30

Looks like our local social life is picking up- mostly because a few groups of out-of-town friends have decided to visit our humble abode over the next month and a half. I'm looking forward to catching up and playing with new additions to the crew.

I am also heading to India early next month for my cousin-sister's wedding. n this side we've been doing some shopping, planning, and packing to make sure all novelties make it to the wedding. I'm the bojikarthi, the equivalent of the maid-of honor. Mostly for emotional support because I know I am not that certain of the do's and don'ts of keeping the day an auspicious one. Plenty of family members will be hovering around though so i'm not worried. It's going to be a whirlwind eight days. I should probably loaded up on vitamin packs.

Happy New Year

2008-02-09T06:08:00.000+05:30

er, better late than never, right? So much has happened these past few months. Good stuff has to do with babies. Some bellies are growing as little babies ready themselves to come into this world and other babies are on their way to becoming toddlers. another wedding's planning is in full swing. the new year brought along an excellent job opportunity. one i couldn't pass up and so also why i have not updated in some time. my new year's resolution was to engage in this city's life. seems that we will not be moving for at least a few years. I haven't done a good job fulfilling the resolution, but i am working on it. happy news this month is that some of my dearest are coming for a visit with aforementioned soon-to-be-toddler. that's it for now. hope all's well in you worlds.

notes on the 'burgh

2007-12-05T20:00:00.000+05:30

I got my slice of that feeling that i call "the city" finally. pittsburgh may not b a young person's town generally speaking, but it is a 40-something through baby boomer town. i belong to a well known gym in town that has two branches. i tend to take all the dance-oriented classes and i have come to realize that my instructors for these classes are in their mid-fifties though they look like they are in their late thirties. the energy these women have floors me. i aspire to have so much energy as i get older.

Aliens in America- in public

2007-09-20T02:03:00.000+05:30

Aliens in America

and an excerpt from Washington Post article

A Woman in the White House -- For 24 Hours
By Lisa de Moraes
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Beverly Hill, CA

"But we have to admit we were shocked when critics lit into "Aliens in America" on Friday.

The series -- at least the pilot -- is a wonderful little "Freaks and Geeks"-ish comedy about a high school nerd who is so bullied by the "popular kids" that his well-meaning mother decides to get him a friend in the form of an exchange student.

Only the exchange student turns out to be a personable Pakistani Muslim, who also is treated like a freak by the other students and at least one teacher, and Mom decides to send him back. Until, that is, she learns that both his parents died about a year earlier. She then embraces him and they all live happily, if put upon, ever after -- or, hopefully, for five seasons.

It made some critics here sick. Which just goes to show you can never tell what's on a TV critic's mind:

"I'd like to ask what is it that you interpret in the American psyche, or appetite for entertainment, that will embrace a show in which Americans are depicted as bigoted and stupid to be shown the way by a young man from the Middle East?" one critic asked.

Executive Producer David Guarascio began to prattle about "a mother who cares deeply about her son . . . realizes the error of her own prejudice . . . not an indictment of the American psyche . . . helpful for some people to sort of potentially think about their own prejudices . . . "

Scott Patterson -- that's right, the "Gilmore Girls" Luke, who in one of the saddest bits of recasting in the history of TV, replaced wonderful character actor Patrick Breen as the kid's father on "Aliens in America" because, it was explained to critics, Patterson had a "holding deal," so they had to pay him whether he was put on another show or not and, presto, he winds up playing a role for which he's given no indication in any performance to date he's well suited -- jumped in, swinging.

"I just want to say something," he said.

"I just want to say something" is never good. It usually is followed by something pretty nasty.

"I don't think this show is polarizing at all and there's no evidence of that so far in your comments." Ooh snap! -- okay, maybe not so much.

"Are there any producers from the Midwest?" someone from the mob of critics shot back. We can't actually swear there was foaming at the mouth involved, but when we say the room was electric, you know what we mean.

At this point, the producers made a big mistake:

"I'm from central Pennsylvania and I keep saying that's the Midwest," said Moses Port, thinking a little levity was called for. It was not.

"I grew up in Glendale, which is kind of the Midwest version of Southern California," said Tim Doyle. Even worse.

"Is there a mentality out here in Los Angeles that people in the Midwest are more naive? . . . The idea that there's nobody from Asia that lives in Wisconsin or at least in this small town is not the reality," a critic snapped.

"No, that is the reality, because I'm from Wisconsin" interjected Lindsey Shaw, who plays the mom.

"I wanted to play this role so desperately because I felt this was my tribe. I grew up with this. . . . I really wanted to express that small-mindedness."

Doyle, finally sensing the danger, rushed to do damage control:

"You may be drawing too much of a conclusion about the series from the pilot," he billed and cooed.

"You know, the story in the pilot is this young man's arrival in this town, so it's very natural that the fish-out-of-water aspect and people's reactions to it are going to be played up for the comedy initially. But that's not going to be the series in the long term," he continued.

"The immigration debate in this country is getting not only fierce, but kind of ugly. Are you afraid your show is going to plunge into the middle of that, not to its profit?" one critic asked rhetorically/ominously.

"He's just an exchange student -- he's not coming to take your jobs," Doyle said, finally getting tough.

"You are dealing with people . . . from a part of the world that aren't always very tolerant, you know -- the Danish cartoon thing and everything. Do you have a technical adviser to keep you from getting Salman Rushdied?" another critic said.

We'll pause here so you can reread that question.

"When we sort of talk about small-mindedness, there is a billion people in the world who practice Islam and they are really not out to get anybody," Guarascio said.

"That being said, we did have an adviser on the pilot. We happen to have a writer on our staff who is a Muslim and of Pakistani descent." But Guarascio insisted the "Muslim community" so far has reacted to the show very positively. They are very excited to see a Muslim character in a comedy, he said, and "hope to use a little humor to create a dialogue." "

talk about fiery debate...wonder if this will be a media debate only or a larger public one.

Aliens in America

2007-09-20T01:23:00.000+05:30

A new show that will air on Oct.1 on the CW network. The person who plays a Pakistani Muslim boy is Adhir Kalyan. Kalyan is of Indian origin and raised in Durban, South Africa. He started acting in South Africa then in London pursued his acting career and now he's stateside. I have been noticing previews for this show for some time now and i have been really curious and almost excited to see what they do with the character that he plays.

From the show's preview we learn that the Pakistani, Muslim boy is an exchange student in Wisconsin living with a middle-class American family. The boy, played by Dan Byrd, in that family is his age and feels like an outcast in his hometown. The show has a coming-of-age "see we all have our insecurities" or weird-is-normal vibe.

From the preview he dresses in kurta payjama, has an accent (that definitely sounds put on- it's that generic accent that supposedly every South Asian cab driver or 7-11 owner has), and loudly invokes his God's name when he's stressed out. He's presented as a caricature. I wonder if they'll show him in GAP jeans and polo style shirts and an acquired sliding-scale American accent by the end of the first season.

Some part of me wants to poke many holes in this show before even watching it, but i do think it is an important American show. it addresses a societal debate that's been happening the world over- can we accept people for who they are?

Just the other day as i sat at a traffic light i noticed a couple of cars around me- one had the little fish symbol on it, and another had a "Jesus saves" sticker on it. I thought about how i never see a car with a Star of David emblazoned on it, or a sticker that talks about the path to Mecca, nor do i ever see a bobble-headed Buddha in a window, or a Laxmi decal in someone's rear window. This only occurred to me because in Mumbai the rickshaw driver or truck drivers have their vehicles covered in religious paraphernalia that they believe protects them on the road. Also that day, my husband and i had just gone to the temple for a car puja for our new car. the priest gave us a picture of God to put in our car and I was aware of displaying it discreetly, because who knows what kind of places we one day might drive through. That may just be me, but it is disconcerting to think that i would be less wary of being attacked if i put a Jesus saves sticker on our car. hmm.

city of bridges

2007-06-06T23:55:00.000+05:30

For those of you who didn't know, after I landed in March I turned around and went back to India until the end of April.

I've been relishing my time in the 'burgh since coming back. I took the month of May to reacquaint myself with driving on the highway, cooking for the family, attending bridal showers and graduations, and waiting for my k to show up.

It's fun exploring the city with him because I see it allwith new eyes. we went to the waterfront in Homestead. Which is basically a fun venue at night because the paths along the water are softly lit which is a contrast to the huge Loews cineplex inside the shopping complex. k looked around as we walked along the water after dinner and said, "I think we might be here for a while."

strength

2007-05-11T03:33:00.000+05:30

" Love consists in this: that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other" -Rilke

that sentiment reflects how i am existing right now. I have lost someone very close to me and it's been exactly a month now. I am reveling in my solitude. I guess it's not exactly solitude when i am constantly talking to the person in my mind or thinking about her. maybe the sentiment relates more to how i am interacting with living people who are close to me and who know my mind.

i am lucky that i do not have regrets or guilt about how i handled my relationship to her.

there are people though that i miss so deeply. one is a friend that i knew seven years ago. an amazing human being, one of the strongest people i have ever known. that person was living with lupus at the time. we have exchanged post and e-mail infrequently, but i think of my friend most days. i hope my friend is still well.

inside

2007-04-21T21:23:00.000+05:30

sorry for the lack of updates here..family affairs have taken over my head space. i just lost someone very close to me and so my musings are generally of a very personal nature lately. i should be postng more regularly in may.

Changing climates

2007-03-19T06:31:00.000+05:30

The sun's been shining and I have ventured away from home a bit- to the local strip mall. Driving feels different because my reflexes have changed- I don't trust other driver to follow road rules. The only good thing is that I drive alot slower for now. This week I venture into the city to run errands and to begin to reconnect with old colleagues and friends.

By the way, thanks for the phone calls. I will call soon.

I very much have the feeling that this place is deserted despite the fact that everyone was outside enjoying their reprieve from a wintery blast this past week. I find myself searching for the vendors, people on the sidewalks, betel nut spittle, the incessant background noise of honking cars...I took my dog for a walk near home. Normally it's a peaceful walk for me as I talk to him and think or plan, but this particular time I felt a little scared. What solitude looks like has changed temporarily I think.

These days life is in a holding pattern again.

Jetlag

2007-03-15T16:14:00.000+05:30

I am in the US again. It's been less than 48 hours. It's almost 7am and the sun hasn't even peeked out yet. I am so used to the sun waking me up with its brilliance. The weather on the east coast is dreary. I can't sleep.

Observations in Mysooru (Mysore)

2007-03-10T21:52:00.000+05:30

One- a tree seemed to be planted in the middle of the road. i was told that it was not planted but served as a manhole cover as the steel lid was missing.

Two- I saw five sane adults playing with mud on a sidewalk. In fact they were searching for gold. They gather the dust and dirt on the streets near the goldsmiths' shops and mine the dirt for gold bits. Then they sell the bits back to the goldsmith.

Three- I learned that often the cows, buffaloes, and goats that I see in the road belong to people who let them graze in the street. These people live in villages that have become trapped in cities as the city has sprawled out rapidly over the years.

Homeward bound

2007-03-01T14:05:00.000+05:30

I am not sure if anyone still reads this thing as i am a bit deliquent about updating. Anyway, FYI: heading to the US in less than two weeks. I have mixed feelings about leaving, but I am happy to see my family and friends after so long.

I was in Mumbai again just a few days ago and I remembered that exactly 20 years ago I was petrified of that city and now I love it and all of its chaos,and more importantly i feel at home there. Just as I have become comfortable in this country and have finally stoppped missing New York, I am leaving.

My mom claims that I am a wanderer and one of her favourite jokes about me and my sister that she tells people is that we were born with wheels on our feet. On some level this is true- just as I begin to stop thinking about my environment and seeing only what exists in my microcosm i become restless and seek change. This experience has been different in that I am very much entrenched in my personal life here, but I haven't stopped noticing the world around me. I love how alive and curious I feel all of the time. There is so much more to learn here and I am still open to learning . Hopefully I will create the chance to come back and live in this country again.

Protests and cooking

2007-02-11T21:27:00.000+05:30

Been offline this past week because k and i got out of town to avoid the farmers' protest in reaction to the high court's decision to give tamil nadu more water from the Cauvery river which would require Karnaaka to release a siginficant amount of the water it currenty receives from Cauvery to Tamil Nadu. The Cauvery water dispute is an issue that, according to one news source( NDTV or CNN-IBN), is over 200 years old. With the erection of the KSR dam in Karnataka many arid regions flourished agriculturally. One of those areas is a large town between Bangalore and Mysore called Mandya, where most of the protests are occurring. For the week bus and train service to tamil nadu and between Bangalore and Mysore had stoppped. Many schools in both Bangalore and Mysore and in between closed as did many businesses. Tomorrow, Monday, in Mysore, the protesters have called for a bandh which means that the city will shut down for the day. I seem to follow the protests, although in the nOrtheast everyday strife occrs as some folks fight for independence.

Anyway, today was a cooking day. Usually i enjoy cooking, but i don't like cooking in other people's kitchens. So i was slightly stressed out as i made a simple meal of dahl, rice, and chicken curry. the pots and pans are even different, all the spices i would've used weren't to be found. So i sucked it up and worked with what was on the shelf. I felt a sense of relief as i put the finishing touches on the dahl ( the chicken and rice were ready to go). then i had to transport the rice from the kitchen to the table. The vessel that the rice was in has to be picked up with tongs. As i carried it, the tongs slipped and the rice fell on the floor. I just groaned and stared at the helter skelter mess of beautifully cooked white rice laying on the floor. i picked up what was salvageable and laid the table. Now i just want to shower and sleep. hmm, t eat or not to eat...

trip news

2007-02-04T21:20:00.000+05:30

In jaipur i learned some quirky things about maharajas past:
one was very short, weighed 250 kg ( x2.2=lbs), had 108 wives and never had any children with any of his wives
another maharaja only drank water from the Ganga (Ganges) River. On a trip to England he carried with him two huge silver pots each wieghing 345 kgs and the capacity to hold 9,000 litres of water. these pots hold the world record for being the largest single pieces of silver according to Guiness.
A third maharaja spoke 17 languages fluently and in the 1700s built sun dials with an error of two seconds, and large astronomical intruments in which one can find out the position of any star in the jaipur sky--all the star were labeled in tniy, tiny sanskrit the plate was crowded with stars positions and their names. to this day many of the instruments are used by students of astronomy and astrologists who use the accuracy of stars' positions to create horoscopes.
one reason why each maharaja had multiple wives was to form alliances with neighbouring smaller kingdoms. leaders of small villages near a kingdom would offer the reigning maharaja a daughter in order to keep him in good esteem and ensure a peaceful alliance.
pics to be loaded next time.

tourism has been jaipur's strongest industy for about 40 years. they have the mechanics of tourism down to a science. the tour guides invest in learning languages such as french, korean, japanese, russian, dutch, and german. and who arrives when i very seasonal- singaporeans, japanese, and koreans arrive in lae january, the last batch of tourists for the season are the franch who arrive in march. tourist season is from october to march ( when the weather is most agreeable). in the off-season tour guides work in factories which produce cultural goods for the tourists.
our tour guide through the palaces and fort has been trained as a lawyer, but he is a tour guide who works at his uncle's furniture factory in the off-season because he said law is too saturated. An assertion k and i saw evidence of when we went to a legislative office in mumbai once. About 50 men in black robes descended on us like a flock of crows around a fresh body and pecked us with intrusive questions about our business there and then bartered with us relentlessly to pay them to complete our simple task.
He also says that the french and russians are the most generous tippers. after a ten-day tour with a group of french tourists he will get a tip of Rs 41,000 ( $ 911 when USD1=Rs45)). Rs41,000 per month is considered a middle/upper-middle class salary.

amritsar was serene. i loved the golden temple and i plan to go back. in 1984 indira gandhi ferreted out terrorists who were hiding in the golden temple by force. In turn she was assassinated by a sikh body guard for attacking sikhism's most holy place. The mandir has memorials to the attack and markerr of the event ( bullet holes).

i think i am really tired as this sunday has been a particularly lazy one-- lots of sleep, movies, and a huge decadent lunch. :)

tata-- another nap is in the cards for the day.

back at yoga centre

2007-02-03T01:36:00.000+05:30

we're back from our trip to delhi-amritsar-jaipur. unfortunately security was very tight at the republic day parade- no cameras, food, water, bags of any kind- so no pics of the parade and the political glitterati. also no pics from some palaces in jaipur for reasons of artifact preservation. will post more latah.

heading north

2007-01-24T08:55:00.000+05:30

Today K and I are heading to Delhi/ Amritsar/ Jaipur. I am sooo excited about going to Amritsar because I have wanted to see the Golden temple up close for years. For the best views and experience of the temple one is supposed to go between 4-5am or after 10 pm but train schedule from delhi and our itinerary won't permit us to visit dring this time. We'll be there in the afternon. The Golden Temple ( Harimandir) is a sacred place for Sikhs. Anyone may enter Harimandir as long as they cover their heads ans wash their feet efore goingin and do not consume alcohol, other drugs, or eat meat on the premises. What I like about the place is that their is a huge communal kitchen where people work together to make food for everyone. The place has always meant community and harmony to me, so I hope i find that to be the case in reality.

In Delhi we will be attending Republic Day festivities. Republic Day celebrates the day the Constitution of India became effective in Parliament. The parade is also an opportunity for the armed forces to show off their might.

Jaipur will be regular touring around-- checking out old palaces, shopping! (beautiful jewelry there), walking around the 'pink city'

details: no pictures lately because i lost the cable that connects my camera to my computer in all the moving, packing, and shipping. Will pick up the cable in Bangalore on the way back and pics will be posted thereafter.

Hope all are well.
x

On the market

2007-01-19T10:17:00.000+05:30

I'm driving myself nuts wiht a personal statement i 've been trying to write for days. My policy is that if I get bored writing something then there is no way that I can expect somebody else to find it interesting, unless i'm explaining something tedious. So, I have asked some folks to send me personal statements just to jog my memory about how to write one of these things again. I also care alot about this application and i think that's part of the blcok. Hmm, well, I'll have to finish and mail it by tomorrow--c'est la vie.

So we're in Mysore now chillaxin'. We are both going nuts with our schedule being a bit disjointed but the days pass happily. We go for walks around 6 am and today i start my yoga class every evening. k spends the day studying and running around town doing small errands. I spend my time doing laundry, helping cook some meals, reading, and writing. At night we watch some trash TV, the travel and living channel ( love it!), movies, or going for rides on the motorbike.

Let me tell you about the movies..we rent dvds and vcds from a place close by that is known for having a wide range of movies. Upfront they tell you original dvds cost five rupees more than pirated copies. Every time i go i always ask for the original dvd of the movie i've picked. and each time they charge me the extra five and say, " enjoy madam." The first time i brought a movie home it was"Little Miss Sunshine". The english version did not have audio but the Spanish voice-over did. The only english version had english subtitles but no voice could be heard only background music and the little girl in the movie shrieking at times. So i went back to the store and asked for another copy of the movie--one on which the sound worked.

They said, "but madam doesn't it have english subtitle?"

My reply, "there's no way this is the original. Can you give me the original?"

"Madam, only one. watch subtitles, still will be funny," the store clerk said with that not-yes-but-not-no head waggle.

On the way home k, laughing, said to me, " you still strive for 100 per cent customer satisfaction despite having lived here for over a year. Customer just isnt number one here jaan."

I just half-smiled, shook my head and shrugged.

home,home,home...

Good bye Mumbai

2006-11-29T02:24:00.000+05:30

Well it's my last week in Mumbai. I already had my last day of work. I have learned alot this year about people, my new profession, and patience.

The food critic's tales of cuisines' histories and establishments as he sits like a late-life Buddha dispensing aryuvedic medicine.

hindi lessons--let's just say words worse than "bevacoof" and offensive as any perverse act involving another's sister or mother

watching hindi movies in the old-school movie halls

"Dead" coke
chitty-chitty-bang-bang terms of endearment
moonlit drives
lightening in monsoon
police checks
dancing with "babies"
Stars in the morning
HRC for good ol' mac-n-cheese
flirting with Faith
"So you wanna talk about it?"
dire straits , bryan adams, and floyd 'til my ears fall off

well, that's some of the most memorable...love, love, many kisses, and thank for the laughs...off we go to another beginning!

Mirza

2006-11-14T14:20:00.000+05:30

I saw Shazia Mirza perform november 7 . Her show was a mixed bag. some jokes were writhing on the floor gasping for a breathe of comedic air. Some jokes were spot-on. I particularly like that she talked about positive discrimination. that was new. most comedians who are banking on their "outsider" status don't talk about this face of discrimination. it was fun until she started getting frustrated and began explaining the jokes to the people sitting up front who were looking at her blankly when she said, "clearly the staff at buckingham palace is all gay considering they walked around with trays of champagne and poppers." a woman up front smiled sweetly as she let the joke go over her head. but ms. mirza, sweating and cranky from the mumbai heat and "indian" disorganisation, didnt let it go. she turned to the woman and said, "do you know what poppers are? it's a_____ nitrate --pill gay men take before they have anal sex." the recovery flopped because the frustration in her tone overrode the sarcy-banter-with-the-crowd quality she attempted to maintain. she also had notes that she kept referring too and she clearly memorised her routine but once too often she would lose her train of thought or her flow and repeat a line she had just said, which made it v.clear that she was trying to recall how the next secion of her act goes.

A roll of the dice

2006-11-08T14:32:00.000+05:30

It’s already time to move on again. I leave Mumbai at the end of the month. I decided to quit this job and move because my family will be in India until the middle of January also rituals after the ceremony will take about two weeks to wind down. After that k and I plan to live in bangalore for some months to be closer to our families in the south and we plan to head home around the beginning of summer.

I’m pretty excited and terrified. Today, instead of working on an employment application or packing some boxes to be shipped, I watched My Girl on television. That movie always makes me break down sobbing. When the little girl’s best friend dies, I just lose it. They’re about 11 years old. That’s a confusing time ( at least for me it was) when a best friend is invaluable and you just imagine walking with that friend into the possibility of a beautiful life ahead even if the one you are dealing with is messy and not so rosy. The job thing is really weighing on my mind because I have so many options or none at all. Anyway, I’m waiting for my anxiety to subside a little so I can concentrate.

This month I have planned to do anything I meant to do here but did not get around to doing. So that means catching some shows, going to a few restaurants, checking out a few boutiques, and trolling through some neighbourhoods. I’ll miss the people I have met here. If it wasn’t for the guidance, humour, and help of some of the friends I have made here I would’ve packed my bags many months ago.

it's been a long while

2006-10-31T11:58:00.000+05:30

Hi, my stomach checked out in august and still doesnt seem quite ready to come home yet. Also now i have some chest cold and i have been running around alot since august. my mind is dizzy with all that has to be done and is getting done. bear with me please.

I thought of you before Diwali ( Happy New Year!) and during Dandiya Ras:

I’m supposed to be compiling addresses for invitations, but I got bored/overhwhelmed (however you want to read my very bad habit of procrastinating during personally excruciating moments or days) and decided this would be more fun:

The rhythmic click-clack of dandiya echoes over the cacophony of honking vehicles, people’s yells as cars screech to a halt at their road-crossing feet, the monotonous advertisement of fruit and vegetable vendors, the tearful whispers of pot bellied children begging for alms, town crazies with maniacal smiles offering blessings and cursing when a shiny paisa doesn’t shine in their hands.

I'm also thinking of home because Halloween is here. well, they are celebrating in tokyo. Eat alot of candy, bob for a lot of apples, drink a lot of cider, and run through some graveyards drunk for me!

xoxoxoxoxoxo BWAHAHAHAHAHA!

private or public?

2006-10-04T01:55:00.000+05:30

One thing I have noticed when driving by slums is how the bathroom situation is worked out. At night the lanes closest to the sidewalks are populated by people sleeping. So essentially a two lane becomes a one lane. Sometimes I see people get up in the night (often I go home around midnight or 1am) and cross the street and then go back to sleep. I am not sure why, but not until recently did I comprehend that the other side of the road was the “bathroom”. This afternoon I was in an auto rickshaw headed to the phone company. Near the phone company is a huge makeshift settlement where all the rickshaw-wallahs live with their families. As my auto slowed near the phone company I heard a loud, persistent, human noise. So I turned my head to see a less-than-ten-years-old kid taking a dump trying to get rid of the last bit of it. What I noticed was that there wasn’t a mug of water near him to wash himself after he was done nor was there an old newspaper or a leaf. I wondered if he would finish his job and just yank his pants up and go about his day.

The same day, much later I was talking to a friend and he told me that he noticed how open American sitcoms are about discussing the foibles of a couple’s sex life- the role play, the image problems, the boredom, the attitudes of each partner. Odd, I guess, in a place where people moving in for a kiss cuts to the same woman holding a “newborn” in the next scene.

future tense

2006-10-03T12:02:00.000+05:30

Lately I have been in a planning frame of mind. We’ll be moving back near the middle of next year. As a result I was perusing journalism job sites in an effort to get a sense of what’s available stateside — possible points of re-entry. From the little I saw, the picture looked dismal to me. There isn’t a dearth of jobs, just a dearth of jobs I would want. People tell me to go back to school if after a few months nothing I like comes up, but I don’t understand randomly going back to school. Also in terms of the plans I have for further academic training I need a bit more experience first. Maybe it’s a little early to psych myself out. Hopefully over the next few months I’ll realize that I have an option that I can’t see right now.

An eye on mumbai

2006-10-02T13:22:00.000+05:30

Decrepid
Vengeful
Torrential
Flooded
Overpopulated
Noisy
Apathetic
Deplorable
Gruff
Self-centered
Throbbing
Soiled
Festive
Boisterous
Generous
Yielding
Gorgeous
Sophisticated
Untarnished
Blazing
Resilient
Unabashed
Uninhibited
Delicious
Secretive
Elusive
Vivacious
………………............... city

Kaveri is your friend

2006-09-22T09:49:00.000+05:30

In finnish my name means:

friend, chum, buddy, mate, cove, pal, brick, fellow, guy, bloke, chap

It's odd to think that my name is a commonly used word in another language. To me it's like if you met someone named "Soap". Soap may be some revered god or godess or a have some divine meaning in their culture of origin. But in english it's something with which to wash onself or something else.

Hey Soap, How you doin' Soap?...

It's interesting to me that as soon as even a word is taken out of context the meaning is stripped, rendered void, and whole new meaning is built into the compilation of sound units.

Ganesha

2006-09-10T10:59:00.000+05:30

ironyofdparadox: Dunking devotion

Above is a link to a great Ganapathi festival pic on an interesting blog.

Artistes spend at least three months making these Ganapathis that are eventually blessed and then immersed in water around this time of year. In Mumbai, Ganeshas are immersed int th Arabian Sea. The festival is a big deal in Maharashtra, at least more than in other states. The festival became larger than life in this state around the time of the freedom fighters byt Balgangadhar Tilak as way to evoke the spirit of community in order to fight against colonial rule.

And, of course, for further info there is a WIkipedia entry on Ganesha.

All things gastronomical

2006-09-10T01:33:00.000+05:30

Hi chillis, I'm feeling a helluva lot better thanks to a lovely, chatty, thorough doctor prescribing some magic pills for me to consume. There are still some things to be sorted out healthwise, but we have made major progress as of today. Not only can i eat more than a morsel of food again, but my general health looks better than i thought it was. I generally hate dealing with doctors, tests, hospitals and the like, but this guy was/is fantastic. He doesnt make you feel like crap for what you could be doing better and assumes you're intelligent and capable of understanding his explanations. He's also very meticulous about his work. It's been many, many years since i have given any doc rave reviews. But, if you are in mumbai and in need of a GI guy he's your man.

What else? The Ganapathi festival is finally over and another festival is on its way in...this is how we know monsoon is well on its way out. I took some pics of the Ganaptahi festival--I seem to have a stellar camera and only the slightest capability to take good snaps with it. Yet another reason to add a little more discipline in my life with regard to my writing time. C'est la vie.

I had written something about the festival for your eyes only that i will post this week.

Something i have been noticing and thinking about more is the dabbawala coding system. See suburban wives or maids cook homemade food for their spouses or employers who are in office in the city. The dabbawala picks up the food that should be ready at the same time every morning. Then through a series of various markings and transfers the dabba will be on the respective city worker's desk at lunch time daily. Thousands and thousands of dabbas are collected from over 3 hours away from the city and reach the right desk at the right time everyday. studies have been conducted on this system. Here's the wiki link to the dabbawala entry.

up and down

2006-09-05T01:39:00.000+05:30

Lately the impulse to write anything evades me. And when it comes it says, "write nothing 'public'."

This past weekend's had ups--lovely music concert in the living room and its downs--grounded at home due to stomach infection.

The music concert consisted of one of mumbai's best known sitqar players and tabla players. these guys normally jam at a trendy place called seijo and the souldish, but the people i live with are old friends of these guys and so they came home and performed to a small gathering.

The stomach infection, h. pylori, has been hell and has been building up since the beginning of august. i started a regiment of drugs ( 6 pills each day) and after three days i am feeling a helluva lot better.

Pics

2006-08-26T18:30:00.000+05:30

Some trip pics from alier this month:

Urban life: This picture was taken from Costa cafe located in Connaught Place in Delhi. If you look closely you'll see the shops, the row of windows above the shops and the living happening on the roof. peopel who have owned these rent-controlled buildings for ages rent out space to the shop owners, rent out the window part to tenants ,and live on the roof, because the money they get is too meagre an amount. i'll do a better job of explaining this soon enough.

Along the way: I see these rice paddy fields on the way to my uncle's house in Coorg. This is what they lo0k like toward the end of monsoon. i didn't put on the camera function to pick up more green, if i had you would see varying lusterous shades of it.

Coffee talk: the phone is an important ecoutrement for the young and/or hip. People spend a lot of time and money their phones.

Butterball: She is the latest addition to my cousin Thamu's nuclear family. They happened to be visiting Delhi from San Francisco at the same time that i was there. I was so happy to finally meet her.

Crossroads

2006-08-16T10:22:00.000+05:30

In the week past, I spent time in Delhi, Bangalore, Mysore, and Coorg. In each place I managed to address something wedding-related. I also broke a few promises- I bought more stuff for my trousseau and I haven’t been very good about updating this space.
Other than wedding stuff, my family and friends pampered me all week—a pleasant and welcome surprise. All the love unplugged my desire to see friends and family everywhere else.
You know the T-shirt store in Delhi? It is the coolest T-shirt store in the world. My cousin’s friend, a Delhiite, tried to diffuse my expectations of the place by comparing it to a t-shirt store chain called tantra, which I think is pretty kitschy and often crass. The place is called People Tree and it’s this tiny space filled with unique, wearable artwork.
While I was in Delhi my cousin in San Francisco dropped in with his family. I knew they would be in India this month, but I didn’t think I would get to see them. His second daughter is new to the world and a sweet butterball of a baby.
I also went shopping for the ‘veil’ part of my wedding ensemble. I am wearing my mother’s magenta wedding sari and my aunt is making my matching musq. In the store my aunt draped the sari on me and put the musq over my head, which I‘ll have to wear until I go to his family’s place. Through the veil I peered at my reflection and thought, “This is different.”
As I grew up and overwhelmed my mind would blank out at the mention of marriage/wedding, I stopped knowing what the marker of that journey would look like. However, as a young girl, I often pictured myself in a white wedding gown. Whereas now, in reality, I’m not even supposed to buy white since white is associated with death in this context. Shades of red are the colours of good fortune, not signs of a harlot’s haughty ways.
Turns out we’re all growing up. When I arrived at my gran’s place all the adults greeted me. All the kids were missing. My cousins are both in graduate school and my sister is stateside. At my gran’s house there’s a bedroom for me and my sister. I’ve never stayed in that room alone. My sister has a tendency to keep her place museum-orderly, but usually wreaks havoc in this room in my granny’s house. At night I would wake up and look around for her mess—the same mess that we usually fight and then laugh about almost every year.
After a day with the adults I called one cousin who is studying in Mysore (about a two-hour bus ride away) and cajoled her into coming home the following day. We spent the day visiting all my parents’ siblings and basically she was there to share looks as relatives piled food in front of us and warmly scolded, “Eat more child!”
As you may have assessed I am not camera-happy, but I do have some pics I’ll put up soon.

In the palm of your hand:

2006-07-31T11:46:00.000+05:30

storytelling—in 6 words of story

“I just wanna make you feel…”

Cars screech as purple stilettos cross

Sidewalk stories are of the village

‘Maximum City’ evokes maximum emotional range

In safety’s net rage unfurls

Brother and sister share dangerous love

Where’re you from? You sexy thing.

Don’t leave! Sorry, the world’s waiting.

Sister, you have food? Want gum?

When in love—they said, “trippin’?”

Decadence remixed—brat pack goes global

Adopted one of hundred Guatemalan babies

Drawing parallels maintains argument without resolution

A subtle dig is compare and contrast

Thanks for the word game Princess

Promises

2006-07-29T02:11:00.000+05:30

Yay, I’m connected again! Actually I have been connected for a week, but I have been running around a lot.

I’ve been breaking the bank with wedding shopping. It’s probably time to stop soon. At least, I have promised myself it’s time to stop soon. I should probably promise someone else that I’ll stop soon—better at keeping promises to others than promises to my self you see.

All in all life’s peachy keen again. k passed his culmination-of-his-career-in-India exam. That was a load off for both of us.

We are busy getting all tangled up in plans for the immediate future, the not-so-distant future, and 20-years-from-now future. I have a tendency to fly by the seat of my pants and he is more inclined to plan down to the last details. So we drag ach other along the other’s path as far as we can and then plunk down to work out compromise. You could say we are working on a compromise right now.

I’m going to Delhi for a week. I cant wait to get out of the city for a bit. I’m going to chill out with family and to buy t-shirts from what I think will be the coolest t-shirt store I have ever been to. Every time I see a t-shirt that makes me think about whether someone would give me the shirt off of their back literally—turns out the t-shirt is from that store.

I’m reading Brick Lane by Monica Ali now. It’s been making waves in literary circles for a few years, and I’ve been reading about some South Asian communities viewing it as ‘controversial’. The book is about a young Bangladeshi girl who has an arranged marriage and moves to England to be with her new husband. She then negotiates the new terrain and the story is the story of her existential shift.

Hmm, during the day I think of so many things to put in this space, but by night/early morning I am too tired to remember. I’ll do some remembering and write what I mean to say more often.

check,check

2006-07-18T21:54:00.000+05:30

hi, internet access issues-forgot that contract expired :(... today was filled with intermittent minutes of silences to commemorate the blasts that happened last week. interesting office convetrsations about reactions in the us and europe, etc. more later.lots happening on the personal front rigth now- reality check that life isnt only about this office and the trains.

Who's the grand master?

2006-07-13T00:46:00.000+05:30

Every time this happens—New York, London, Madrid, Mumbai—I think about ethics problems—do u save your brother or 100 strangers? Whoever is doing this is all about family objectives. For many years I have thought about the US’ positioning in the world. So when I was living in New York on September 11, 2001, I was shocked but not surprised. July 11, 2006- well, the bus stops here for me when it comes to asking why. Now, I am just so angry. Stop.

What is the point? I want to be a fly on the wall of all the rooms of all the heads of state. I want to know what they know. How long they have known? I want to know why compromises are not being bartered. I’m sure there is so much the public will not know for generations. I want to know what is at stake. I want to know how long the ‘general public’ will be used as pawns in this very decadent game of chess. Who are we trusting to make these choices about how many lives are worth sacrificing? Is all this for the greater good? Is some group threatening to blow up the world, so our leaders say, okay take a few but leave most?

i'm okay

2006-07-12T23:47:00.000+05:30

The bomb blasts all happened along the Western rail line. That's the line i take to and from work everyday. Thanks to my odd hours i was not on the rush-hour train on which the blasts took place. Getting home was okay. k came and got me pretty late at night so we ran into a little traffic, but we got home in about an hour and half (normally a 20 min. drive) . People were on the road handing out water and biscuits, putting up signs for free lodging, and directing traffic. The police were escorting people from hospital to hospital to help them look for relatives. k's hospital was inundated with injured and dead. There's a blood drive on as the hospitals need blood. People here are stunned, but everyone still made their way to work. This kind of series bombing has occurred in 1993 and 2002 also. Lots of VIPs are scrambling around shouting for answers and the like. The ‘Who Dunnit?’ is not that unclear, but there is no official word as of yet. A little Google News time will fill in the details.

I am only concerned about what will happen when people are no longer stunned. Hopefully riots won’t break out. This is all a lot. July has been crazy with the flooding, the Shiv Sainik riots on July 9, and now this. The July 9 riots occurred as a political move—they had burnt buses, stopped trains, and terrorised shops into closing their shutters—against whoever threw mud on the bust of a party leader’s deceased wife. Short of the long—I’m okay, k is okay. love you and miss you guys. thanks for your concern. k :)

Surya, namaste

2006-07-08T23:54:00.000+05:30

Hi, things have gotten better since my last post. My mood has swung from being on the verge of tears all day (for having seen a burnt, mad kid loudly singing nonsense and squealing as he hopped on and off moving trains) to euphoria’s playground.

The kid had been in a fire—maybe someone had set him on fire. His skin was taut around his bones, and his lips had melted away.

The sun’s has come out, the rat’s no longer in the house, and my floor is dry again, at least for now. I won’t forget the kid, but I can see all the good stuff lately too. I had lunch at an outdoor café, I walked along the beach, I checked out a new neighbourhood. I’ve even started wedding shopping, and I now have four saris that I can’t wait to wear. So, life seems very manageable and problems seem less daunting again.

Dog-eat-dog

2006-07-04T00:31:00.000+05:30

I think I have definitely hit a saturation point. Today, I went into the kitchen to eat lunch. As I reached toward the dhal (lentil curry), two little beady eyes stared at me. A young rat that had jumped in through the kitchen window looking for food was slowly dying from the rat poison it had consumed in the house. I didn’t know how to react so I said, “Hi, little guy.” The lady of the house walked into the kitchen and asked me who I was talking to. I said, “The little rat from the other night.” I put my plate down and walked out of the kitchen. Lady-of-the-house proceeded to try to shoo it out of the window again, to no avail. This is a symptom of monsoon- rats can’t find food outside so they come into homes foraging for food. Every person I have talked to of all different levels of snobbery all kind of grimace and say yeah, it’s monsoon.

So after skipping lunch I waded through ankle deep sewage water to thankfully catch an autorickshaw to the train station. With monsoon in full swing, and Bandra at low level, I basically wade to the train station everyday. See, to take a cab was not a good idea for two reasons. First, when it rains too heavily, the engines tend to get water-clogged and stall. Secondly, you might get pretty far along and then get stuck in some not so safe neighborhood because that neighborhood will be knee-deep in sewage water.

The train is relatively dry and more efficient than sitting in traffic only to get stuck half way to your destination. After I got off of the train I realized the area I was in was not flooded and caught a cab to the place. I was lucky to have a sweet driver who dropped me off at the doorstep, and he didn’t overcharge me.

I was worried about getting home at night as it is supposed to rain continuously and heavily for the next five days. But it cleared up enough to get home okay. I walk into my room and the walls were leaking. My room was partially flooded. I feel a profound urge to call the airline tomorrow and catch a flight to some place where daily living is easier.

I haven’t been writing to you guys of late because I feel so tired all of the time. And most of what I would like to tell you is not appropriate to say in a public space.

I try to keep my chin up most days, but I’m tired of smiling at people. I realise that as long as you say something—anything with a smile, no harm done to you.

I can’t believe the tourism dept is trying to romanticize monsoon in Kerala to trick tourists into visiting the state in the middle of the rainy season. Monsoon is not romantic. Well, maybe sometimes. But not if you have to leave your cosy abode.

This and other things are experiences I will be able to laugh about most likely by the end of 2007. I realise that k's experience of Mumbai has basically been within the compound walls of an ‘Ivory Tower’ Hospital. Luckily, I have made friends here who are street-smart and help me figure out the little messes I get into everyday.

The other day I saw male beggars fighting on the street. I thought something else was happening at first. As I stared, I realised that in their weak state that was all the strength they had- not to actual take swings at each other, but to roll around and try to smother each other's face.

Welcome to Bollywood

2006-06-19T11:42:00.000+05:30

This week has been a Bollywood bonanza for me. When I go out at night to popular restaurants, pubs, clubs, or hotels, most of the time I have no idea who the individual members of the gliterrati are. They all just feel like part of the scenery. However, this week I knew who I was standing next to. In the encounter pictured below we had been dancing at a fun club located in a high end hotel. While standing around trying to figure out where to go next, we noticed this guy walk past us. i didn't realise who he was until the swarm of people pictured here pushed me to the outer edge of the crowd. This is Sanjay Dutt. The last movie I saw him in was Parineeta, which also featured Saif Ali Khan.

attempt #1

attempt #2

helps to be tall :)

The other person i ran into was Hrithik Roshan. I was eating ice cream at an outdoor mall and i noticed the NDTV camera crew waiting around. So, I sat near them and ate my ice cream very slowly. a crowd was gathering from the door of the restaurant where he had dinner, down two flights of stairs, along the sidewalk which divided around his car and the all the way out of the compound gate. where i sat was bit apart from the crowd. i wanted to see how his mad dash would happen. when he walked out i realised that it was a publicity stunt. he was wearing a black tanktee and a black trench coat type almost-cape and aviator sunglasses at 1o o'clock at night. he has a new movie coming out called Krrrish in which his supernatural character wears a Matrix-style black outfit. unfortunately, i didnt have a camera on hand to show you guys a pic of the crowd.

In nyc celebrities were not noticed in this way often. in mumbai more people are star struck. i wish you could have seen the crowd's anticipation. people had their camera phones poised to take pics for at least half an hour.

minibreak

2006-06-13T10:39:00.000+05:30

Recently i went on a weekend getaway trip with some new friends. I had food poisoning or something for most of the trip, but actually loved my time there. i didnt realise how much i need some time away from the city. Now that we're back I'm feeling like i have regained perspective with regard to why i am here. My thoughts about career have been dominating my thinking lately, which is why things like my writing have fallen to the wayside in the past six weeks. Getting away even for a bit has helped me move closer to letting go of the niggling details and keep pushing on with the big picture.

So, here are some pics from the trip.

'Princess and Crazy Frog': Any time with these two is a trip.

Heave ho: While waiting at the jetty for the ferry to arrive, i watched the indian miitary run practice drills nearby.

The beach at Manori: This place is just across the water from a suburb of Mumbai. Less than an hour's drive away and it's a different reality- no cacophony of honking horns, too many vehicles and people.

Travellers' Paradise: The bungalow we stayed in.

mid-year letter

2006-06-05T03:14:00.000+05:30

Lately, i've been "cocooning" and i have actively started to think about wedding arrangements. This is mostly because people have started booking their flights. Turns out the way Kodavas wear their saris (see engagement photos) is now in fashion for brides from various communities. wedding consultants and stylists ask women if they plan to wear their saris the coorg way or their traditional way. that seemed more interesting before i wrote that down.

i was googling today and i found out that an indian television network formally bans its new anchors and correspondents from wearing "indian" clothes on air. that kind of baffled me. 'india' as brand seems to be a theme these months. i think this has to do with working in media. every paper has an image and a demographic they try to reach. it really feels like a business. i never thought i would work in a corporate environment. this is probably the closest i will get to working in one.

the weather is actually lovely. knock on wood. i did buy my plastic shoes thanks to a friend who called and said, "it's going to raaaaain! we have to buy shoes TOday!" thanks to her, my feet are gross-free. while it did rain, it has stopped. i think they were some pre-monsoon showers. the streets did clog, people did wade through water in some areas- the city isn't yet ready for some heavy duty rains that are supposed to hit us later this month.

As for cocooning, i think all the noise around me is fraying my nerves so i seek refuge in books. i started reading The Hungry Tide by Amitav Ghosh. I really like his way with words. his words are well chosen, but grammatically off key sometimes. Still, he elucidates images and draws histories well in all of his work. it's a stark contrast to that other book i just finished.

my sister is back home, which makes me think my "trip" is over and i am now aware that i live in mumbai. i realise this as i miss wedding after wedding, two friend s are having babies, some are going through very hard times, and i can't be there for impromptu road trips, marathon phone conversations or surprise visits. thankfully my transition to life here has been relatively smooth and i am getting to know people i have always liked and i am meeting new people that teach me interesting things, make me laugh, and help me out in every way.

yike, almost 4am! see ya when i see ya. ;)

pull out the plastic shoes

2006-06-01T00:19:00.000+05:30

So, I wrote the previous post one morning.

That night-

the clouds burst,

thunder and lightening did a litte dance.

Hello, Monsoon.

clouds in my coffee

2006-05-30T10:57:00.000+05:30

On my morning walk I usually see a fit woman in her fifties dressed in casual salwar kameez sitting on the low wall of the jogging path surrounded by five street children. She usually has book in her lap and the kids sit on worn oriental throw rugs she has laid out for them. They scribble/doodle on pieces of papers they hold against the wall or the ground, tongues hooked over their upper lips, eyebrows furrowed, furiously writing something. The little crowd is usually packing up by the time I see them on most mornings.

This morning the woman was standing on the rugs and many kids were sitting on the wall. They were having a ‘school day’. The kids were taking turns reading aloud their English compositions. The only adults in the crowd, besides the teacher, were her sometimes assistant, and a grandfather. The kids were cheering each other on and, as I walked by, I overheard a young boy. His chest puffed out, his head held high, “I am ten year old. I live Bandra….” I was tempted to sit and listen to them, but I kept going. On my way back they had all finished their speeches and the teacher was serving them home-cooked treats for their little school day celebration.

Today was especially lovely weather. I love to watch storms roll in from the sea. The storm isn’t quite upon us yet, but it’s so close.

Many people have told me that monsoon is dreadful. People have monsoon clothes- clothes you can throw away at the end of the season. The rats and every other creature, normally hidden, come out. Cars roll in huge puddles and splash you with watery sewage. I have been told to buy some plastic shoes to wear for the season. That I should wear open shoes otherwise when my feet get wet inside of you shoes, they won’t dry adequately in an ac office and I’ll end up with foot fungus or worse.

Part of me wants to think, “They’re exaggerating. They’re still reeling from last year’s floods.” But, even those who are more prone to understatement have said to me, “Are you sure u don’t want to go home or to you granny’s for the season? Monsoon will make you cry.”

I prefer cold to hot and snow to rain. I got through the hot, so let’s see how I get through the rain.

Oh Henry!

2006-05-28T01:31:00.000+05:30

Well, ladies and gentlemen, forgive me for my prolonged absence. I’ve needed the computer breaks a bit more often lately. I was also absorbed by one of the worst books I’ve read in the recent past- Holy Cow by Sarah MacDonald. I have had nightmares reading this book. I have been trying to maintain an academic frame of mind and trying to see what’s good in this narrative. Too often my reaction to the main character and author was “well, duh, lady.” The string that we are supposed to follow is her path to faith in something bigger and better than humanity. She claims to have started her journey as an atheist, but I didn’t get the sense that she really understood what that meant. She takes us through trippy Hare Krishna life, the “white Sikhs” who practice kundalini yoga, flirts with Islam, and somehow “India” spits her out. Brand new, germ-tolerating, and believing- yes, she’s a believer ladies and gentlemen- hallelujah, in’shallah, jai ram ji ki…

Okay, what she does well is break down concepts that are completely foreign to someone who does not have one iota of exposure to anything “India”. She makes some sense of Hinduism- the triumvirate, the many incarnations of each, the stories associated with all. “India” is the other character in her book. This is what I cannot stand. It’s the sign of a categorical, linear thinker- label it, put it in a box, put the box on a shelf, color coded, and alphabetize.

I am most likely being unfair. If one never visits, she gives a damn good description and initial reaction. Most people experience some level of culture shock, gross miscommunication, and distance between you, the visitor, and those who really live in this nation. The histories of the regions are in their bones the language, the walk, the talk. Gazes mean different things. I also feel tortured and competitive about the fact that she picked up Hindi and I have yet to comprehend much and not sound like I have a mouth full of marbles while speaking. Where’s my Henry Higgins?

Let’s talk about something else….

Lately I have found myself saying to people, with regard to communication-confusion, that I am having trouble understanding when it is appropriate to be honest. Often I seem to come off as being honest to the point of being confrontational. It shocks me.

A couple of weeks old, you may have already heard:

A 78-year-old man says the key to keeping his 30 wives happy has been the use of a gentle voice and sweet words. Overhearing this, a woman in her mid-forties scoffs, laughs, and says in babbling-brook voice, “sexist little wretch.” He says he never keeps more than three wives at a time, “when one space opens up, I get a new wife.” Apparently in Malaysia one is allowed to legally have four wives at a time only. His longest marriage lasted for 20 years. The shortest marriage lasted for ONE day (Britney’s not alone).

Da Vinci Code release was held b/c the IB ministry and censor board are concerned about hurting the sensitivities of Christians. The country held it’s breath regarding its release, because the decision laid solely on one man’s opinion- the IB minister. If he thought it was okay, then the censor board would have to do little to cut it. If he had thought it was too offensive, then India wouldn’t see the Da Vinci Code (well we would’ve had pirated copies, which had already started to circulate). The movie was released here on Friday. The released version is supposed to have an extra “this is purely fiction” disclaimer. At first Ron Howard was upset and didn’t want to add the extra disclaimer, but he finally consented. So I’ll see it in the theatres. I don’t watch most movies in the theatre, like Brokeback Mountain, b/c I hate knowing that it was censored. You can tell with weird cuts. In Brokeback the scenes that were censored here were the hetero sex scenes. When I say “here” I mean Mumbai unless otherwise specified. Ha!

I went to my cousin’s daughter’s wedding in b’lore (Bangalore) on Sunday. There were many elements of lights, flowers, and water from the point of entry and then all through the hall. Outside was especially lovely. There was a bartender who only served cocktails and mocktails. I was happy to be home and to see a lot of my relatives. I was especially happy that life felt more familiar. Not so many people were sleeping on the streets. The air felt cooler and I loved being able to roam around my cousin’s place as I would my own.

Can you tell that I am in a ‘weirdo’ mood lately? The stability of my current life is making me a bit loopy. Sometimes I feel like there isn’t much to think about – no boy problems, no work problems, no family problems, no money problems, no health problems, minor social problems, but no major problems. I guess I also don’t feel engaged in my environment lately. Too much in the observational position, I think I need to volunteer somewhere. I think it’s time to do that. I’ll keep you posted.

neglected

2006-05-21T10:26:00.000+05:30

ai, sorry this space has been neglected for so long. i have only been writing in snatches of time. I'm a little preoccupied with wedding planning. also too much time on the computer has been making me tired and nauseous most days. sorry, to those who have contacted me and have been wondering where i have been. i'm here- just a bit tired and anxious lately. but i'm back andi 'll be updating you as the week progresses. mwah!

"all lines to the country you are calling are busy"

2006-05-02T23:39:00.000+05:30

this is what i heard for about an hour today. i went to the international calling booth and dialled friends and family in the us, japan, tanzania, and russia. i didnt get through to anyone except my own home. The person on the other end was my dear aunt who lives in india and happens to be visiting my parents right now. my parents had already left work. oh, well. what's life without a few charlie brown moments?

it's in your hands

2006-05-01T14:40:00.000+05:30

Value is attached to each hand. Your left hand is for the ‘dirty work’ and your right hand is for all things good. Your left hand is for washing yourself and you use your right hand to feed yourself. So if you are handing someone food or money you always give and receive these things with your right hand. This rule is not a stickler, but to hand someone something they ask for with your right hand is considered polite, good manners.
My gran sends me lovely packages periodically. Sometimes she sends spicy treats and sometimes sweet ones. Usually it’s too much for just me so I take some to work and basically hand it out to anyone who does or does not get home food.
Recently I mentioned to a colleague that another package is on the way and he said, “More power to your grandmother’s right hand!”

euthanasia

2006-04-28T11:54:00.000+05:30

Recently I read about a 79-year-old man who appealed to his state high court to be given permission to carry out assisted suicide- euthanasia. He’s a freelance journalist who is crippled by a series of chronic illnesses. He said he is no longer is capable of taking care of his daily functions by himself. Even more interesting is that in court he argued his case based on Hindu and Jain ideology that he is allowed to house his soul in a new body. He took the argument out of the dichotomy of life/death and added another dimension to it. damn interesting:

Indian scribe pleads for mercy killing

A 79-year-old freelance journalist has petitioned the Rajasthan High Court seeking permission for euthanasia, saying he wants to die with dignity.

In his petition filed on Wednesday, Giriraj Prasad Gupta pleaded for mercy killing on the ground that he was unable to perform his day-to-day functions independently and did not want to lead a crippled life waiting for death.

He said he had a hearing problem, diabetes, poor vision and heart disorders. He has been operated upon for hernia and prostate, and he had fractured his legs and hands once. He said he wanted to "die with dignity" rather than become a bedridden patient waiting for death.

The journalist clarified that he was loved and taken care of by his family members, who were all well settled. He also said that he was able to earn Rs. 8,000 a month.

Arguing that the Hindu scripture Bhagavad Gita and the Jain philosophy speak of immortality and reincarnation, Gupta said he wanted to facilitate transfer of his soul into a new body.

Gupta's counsel N.C. Goel said his client wanted to die with dignity, for which he would require a doctor's help and the doctor should also not be penalised for it.

- Indo-Asian News Service from www.rxpgnews.com

I’ve always been interested in ideas surrounding the value of life over death and why one is more valuable than the other. Once a friend said to me suicide is a choice people should understand they have, but not an option they should exercise. That was said in the context of how realizing the value of life is power and that one has some control over his/her life. This man’s argument suggests that his life is essentially in his mind no longer viable and so let him “die” and try again so to speak. He seems to e empowering himself by taking the whole cycle into his hands. Seeing life as one of many as opposed to just one really changes the concept of life/death. The more I let this sit in my mind I realize it’s a boggling shift in perspective.

Dharavi

2006-04-21T12:13:00.000+05:30

This is the area of Mumbai known as 'Asia's lagest slum'. The slums are a preoccupation for me. I just read an article with a great graphic about plans to resettle and develop the slum into a more livable area. I do wonder where all these people will go. According to the article approximately 3lakh (300,000) people live there now, and many of them will be displaced.

'NEW'

2006-04-20T21:39:00.000+05:30

L'oreal, WhitePerfect. whitening cream- "Because you're worth it." madness.

the country in the city

2006-04-19T23:47:00.000+05:30

Today went for a toss and threw me in too. The weather is becoming unbearable, even at 8 am the sun and humidity felt like mid-day heat. I dropped my clothes in a public squat-toilet by accident today. I spent the day expelling the poisonous wrath of three-day-old food and nursing a throbbing heat-stroke headache. After dropping my clothes in the toilet I found my way home, threw away the clothes, turned on the ac, had a long hot shower,and crawled between my beautiful, cool, blue bed sheets.

I know you want to know how I dropped my clothes in a public toilet. I can say that in that moment I craved the nearly sterile facilities of my childhood home. The story's a bit embarrassing and one I would tell if I could be slightly inebriated. So, buy me a drink next time I see you, and I'll tell you how it happened. ;)

Earlier this week, a man had knocked on our flat door to tell us to shut the windows. He planned to remove honey from the beehive outside of our building and he did not want any to fly into our home. The lady-of-the-house told him to bring the honeycomb to our flat so we could watch him extract the honey. The guy was dressed in an untucked, short-sleeved, cream button-down shirt, brown flood water trousers, and he was barefoot. He smoked out the bees (somehow managed not to get stung or is used to it) and carefully pulled out the comb. When he came up stairs we gave him large pots and he strained the comb and this translucent amber liquid flowed into the pots. He ended up extracting 7kgs of honey! He said this is the season that bees take the nectar of jamun and hence the honey has a slight jamun flavor. Sometimes natural honey has a back-bite, but this is smooth tasting and a little fruit-yumdelicious.

where i sit

2006-04-12T12:58:00.000+05:30

The weather is filling the air with heat and humidity and it will burst into monsoon come june. i'm hardpressed to leave the house after noon, especially because my work day does not begin until any time between 4pm to 5:30 pm. After work I tend to be wide awake and buzzing with the day's residue- ideal for going to the gym normally. At 2 am I'm left with my own thoughts or sitting in an over-priced coffee shop of a luxury hotel with some colleagues listening to them wax politics. There is normalcy in the fact that at least the five of us share the same wacked out schedule.

Daily, I am pretty amused that this motley crew of young folk decides what hits the pages for the next day. When you grow up reading the paper you never really think about who is formulating the news, choosing the news, designing the layout of the news. At least I assumed someone conveying the news would have a certain knowledge that I don' t have access too. That's not really true. Journalists tend to be intensely curious, news/gossip oriented, information-seeking, question-asking, fun-loving. They tend to ask impertinent questions, and good ones are very hungry for the story. They talk about story in terms of "meat" and extraneous informtion as "flab". Carnivorous lot.

I think I relegated myself to the editing desk at least for a while because this hunger freaked me out. On my first day reporting they sent me to the home of this kid who had managed to stop an AlItalia flight from taking off by saying there was a bomb on board (made national news). His reason, according to schoolmates, were that he was upset he did not make the MUN delegation to go to Geneva and he didn't want his girlfriend to go without him. I was so weirded out by how easy it was to find his address, his phone number, his building. He lives in an old-money part of town. There were security guards sitting there, but I walked right in and took the elevator straight to his door. I got the door slammed in my face three times by the houseman. I tried talking to others in the building but not knowing Hindi was a major barrier. I couldnt believe that I had so blatantly tried to invade their privacy for what at that point was gossip- how could a kid do that? why would a kid do that? etc. Anyway after that I wanted to sit safely away from the craziness for a while. What I am learning though is that getting a good story has only to do with a sense of picking up clues, knowing how to spin an argument, and having a sense of urgency about the story.

I think I talked about this before, the Alitalia thing. Anyway, sorry if pete and repeat walk into a bar, pete sat down, who's still standing? repeat . If pete and... :P

Branded

2006-04-09T11:22:00.000+05:30

I‘ve been thinking about lots of things to tell you guys this week. I have been thinking about the presence of LGBT in this country. I have been thinking about race- concepts of race, politics of race, hate-crimes….I have also been thinking about gelato.

Tonight I went to the only gelateria I know of in Mumbai and chatted with the owners of it. They were interviewed by TimeOut Mumbai. The guy and his co-owners are fairly young. When I went in I asked to sample certain flavors. The first one I chose was the chocolate chip cookie surprise. When I picked it, I thought, “I must be missing home” because I was hoping it tasted like chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. When he handed me the taster he said, “Are you American?” And I said, “Mm, yeah.” He said, “I knew because you chose a very American flavor.” Then I heard the woman standing next to him ask some customer if he needed help and she had an American accent. But He sounded like he had lived between the two countries or more for most of his life. His accent sounded ‘global’, neither here nor there, so I didn’t know from where he originated. Turns out they are both from Los Angeles and she’s his cousin who flew in from Hyderabad to help him out. He asked where I was from and he knew the ‘burgh! His bro had attended high school in the city of bridges (no longer ‘the steel city’ people). I was happy to chat with them. I wanted to stay for some time. I decided to leave as they seemed busy but maybe I‘ll go back and ask if they want to hangout sometime. They’re the first ‘normal’ expats I’ve met here.

Most are these new age hippies that are thrilled to be invited to all these society parties but don’t really know that they are part of the ambience and décor. They tend to be people who have come to India to find themselves but more likely to reinvent themselves. Or I meet some corporate types who are stationed here for work and happy for the affordable shopping but can’t wait to run into their promotion back in “the first world”. A conversation I overheard at FabIndia, a store which sells handwoven cotton clothes for dailywear from all over India illustrates the mentality I often run into:

Woman 1: Is this ‘too india’?
Woman 2: It’s a little ‘too india’, but it’s ‘pretty india’
Woman1: What about this, is this ‘too india’? I can’t buy anything ‘too india’ because then I can’t wear it, you know?
Woman 2: Oh, I know the stuff here is ‘so india’, not like the tunics (aka kurtis) we normally buy.
Woman1: Yeah, how can you wear ‘india’ everyday?
This went on for another ten minutes, then looking up from her book keeping
Store manager (quietly): Please leave the store.
Woman 1: Really? Oh…okay.
Woman 2: There’s nothing here anyway.

I feel pummeled with this idea of ‘india’ as brand because much of the news I read coming across the wires is about how India is marketing itself to move into the center position of the global market. News about ISB grads making 1 crore (approx. 233,000 usd) out of b-school, news of the nuclear deal and its parameters, 50% reservations for India ‘Centres of excellence’ II schools, OICs getting their right to vote…I’m getting the sense that the government and their partners are changing the course of things, like turning around a massive Viking ship.

Lately I have been keenly aware of ads for whitening creams. Fair and handsome, fair and lovely is an old favorite and now Garnier is marketing a cream that is supposed to lighten you skin color with 94% efficacy. This vulnerability, the desire to be fair, is older than British colonialism. I also thought about how racism is so insidious, it exists here where seemingly the society is homogenous. Also Crash made its debut here and people are talking about it.

Someone told me he felt it was contrived and too dramatic. I told him maybe in terms of the linkages between the stories, but those kinds of race-related violences do happen like faith-based violence happens here. I wasted my breath though because he chose to employ ‘straw person fallacy’ tactic.

Odd that he couldn’t understand what I was saying because just before we had this conversation he gasped when he saw that I left a line in an article that I edited about a certain Prophet’s personal life. He and another spun around and asked me if I was trying to incite a riot, especially in light of the cartoon riots. Even though the article was a reference to what someone other than the reporter had written about the Prophet’s life, these guys still had visions of angry rioters outside of our office.

The article was about this Bengali writer who chooses to write about and say scandalous things by denouncing religious figures/icons by linking them to sexuality/sensuality. He received an award named for a deity that he had claimed to have feelings of lust for when he admired a statue of her at the age of 12. He said he kissed the statue and experienced pleasure from the kiss. The way he actually relayed the information was poetic- he linked the fact that she was the goddess of learning to his awakening sense of adolescence. When I tried to discuss this with a friend, his face clouded over and he said, “Kav, in this society, saying something like that is equivalent to someone publicly saying he performed fellatio on a Jesus-statue.” Whoa, point taken.

As race is in the American context, religion is in the Indian context. You have to be careful about what you say, be aware of your audience, and try not to step on too many landmines about the issue unless you have good reason too.

LGBT for another time….

god's gift

2006-04-05T11:13:00.000+05:30

This city is throbbing with life. It’s hot. really hot. Something about the heat, the humidity, teeming with people- something about it all makes this very fertile ground. This is the season for alphonso mangos. I have been looking forward to eating this type of mango for a little over a year. Last night when k picked me up he surprised me with three of the precious fruit. These mangos are the Bombay Sapphire of mango. They’re classic, so sweet, messy, tart, juicy and fragrant.

For some reason tropical fruit never tastes the same when I buy the imports from the mega-grocery store in the dead of winter. But on these long hot days, the fruit is life-juice. The fragrance of each fruit is enhanced- unique to the fruit. Pomegranates, grapes, oranges, apples…everything holds taste that is different and multifaceted.

April Fool's Day

2006-04-01T02:35:00.000+05:30

'sup folks? Life at work is very good, knock on wood. Life all around is going well. It's been a very long time since I have felt so calm and even keel. I don't know if I ever really felt this balanced before moving here. I always wanted a 'TLC' (The Learning Channel) existence. I would watch those shows- A Wedding Story, A Makeover Story, A Baby Story- and wonder how they found so many stable people for those shows. I am still quite, mmm, expressive, but the undercurrent is light, lots of warm light.

You guys should really check out Riverbend. I love reading it. I tried to add the link to the links list but it's not working for some reason. The link within the text of my last post is though, so check it out.

I did take pics of me and I realise the way I look has changed,at least to me- my hairline is receding, my nose is bigger, and my eyes loook moony- i'm morphing into a fictional old man. The kind of old man you imagine shoos kids from his doorstep in fairy tales.

I am learning so much about how people live in this city. So many secrets are kept from those people most care about and told to everyone else. I had a long conversation with a new friend about some secrets we know. She filled in some of the blanks for me and I kind of felt just sad to know more. I think I felt sad because people ruin their lives for the dumbest reasons. I have tripped many times and landed on my head and eventually figure how to get my feet back on the ground. The secret-life-person is making the kind of mistake you have to just let people make and hope for the best. We are not close by any stretch of the imagination but I have walked down that road once,and it didnt feel good. I cringe to think that this person is whistling while they walk down this dreary road, feeling only the sun through the branches of dead trees.

Riverbend

2006-03-30T20:52:00.000+05:30

More than a blog this is a live book. She's an excellent writer who seems to elucidate even the mundane interestingly.

rapt attention

2006-03-28T13:07:00.000+05:30

On Saturday I ventured to an Indian classical dance showcase. In the clipping where I read about the event, it said, “across the street from Sion Hospital”, it didn’t say, “across five lanes of high speed traffic in both directions.” While crossing the expressway I was cursing k for not coming with me to hold my hand through the ordeal. Luckily people are always around, so I waited for a cluster of people to cross and I scurried behind them. At the divider I moved my way into the middle of the cluster and it pushed me along and spat me out safely on the other side.

I was also annoyed with myself for being dressed as a standout American in this clearly middle class Indian area. I had tried on a new salwar kameez that I decided to keep for Sunday to where to a lunch at an aunty’s house. I was very aware of people knowing by looking at me that I was from Somewhere, Else. The performance was in Tamil Sangam Auditorium. Tamilians are south Indian folk, so I felt immediately comfortable when I walked in. I still got Somewhere, Else looks but they were friendly. A couple of people seemed to say hello because they weren’t sure if they knew me or not. I felt happy to have a clear sense of what people around me were saying since the dialect we speak borrows heavily from Tamil- much more clear than when I hear Hindi.

The performance was excellent. The only time I experience what it means to give someone ‘rapt attention’ is when I am watching dance. The styles represented were Kathak- a north Indian origin of dance, Manipuri temple dancing (Manipur is a state), Odissi, bharatanrityam (a modern form based on bharatanatyam but set to Hindustani music instead of Karnatak music), bharatanatyam, mohiniattam (from state of Kerala), and nrityaganga. The mistress of ceremony, a guru of bharatanrityam, explained the connection between the developments of each art form. Each type of dancer performed a piece having to do with union of Shiva and Parvati to demonstrate how each regional dance form expresses different facets of the same story. The woman who organized the event said something poignant about how this form of storytelling uses three modes of language- song/music, literature, and the technical language of dance. She created the form of bharatnatyam to Hindustani music so the story would not be lost, so that the audience could follow the dancer’s story through the story told in the song. She was born and raised in Maharashtra and said she fell in love with bharatanatyam at a young age. She has been dancing for 30 years.

All of the women who performed are master in their fields. Many of them travel internationally and have received many honors for their work and contribution to dance and culture. The Manipuri dancer is the youngest of the four Jhaveri sisters and received a Padma Shri for her work. These sisters trained together and over the course of their careers they have been dancing for fifty years.

All of the women moved with great agility and grace. Some were in their late 60’s. One minute she stamped out an intricate series of rhythm, the next moment a foot is caught above her head and in a second the foot dropped and she spun to end on not two feet but one with her center of gravity displaced to the left and her hips to the right and her arm relaxed in a gesture to indicate a lotus in her palm. I admire passion. Moreover, I admire when people have the courage to pursue their passion.

still confused

2006-03-25T10:44:00.000+05:30

I went in search of the documentary and by the time I figured out how to get to the venue 25 minutes of the 51-minute documentary had passed. So I sat at this place called the Oval and watched multiple matches of cricket . I'll have some pics for you. I'm going in search of a dance performance later today. Wish me luck!

Dr Nagesh

2006-03-24T13:48:00.000+05:30

I haven't been blogging as much lately, not because I am so very busy but just confused. Confusion normally prompts me to stand still. So for a companion in my confusion and to normalize my state, I plan to watch a documentarythat is in hindi and marathi with french subtitles. Dr. Nagesh is about an ObGyn who counselled HIV-affected patients pro bono for ten years. Two people of french origin made the documentary. The last time I really read French I was an adolescent, so let's see how this viewing experience goes.

welcome to my humble abode

2006-03-22T14:49:00.000+05:30

view from the balcony attached to my room. the intersection is rarely so deserted.

one view of my room, from the balcony

another room view, standing close to the mirror in the previous picture
the pics dont represent about two-fifths of the space in the room.

turns out i did get an image of the cow standing in front of the boutique but somehow recorded it as a "movie" rather than a snapshot. i'll start posting more pics .

job update

2006-03-21T13:41:00.000+05:30

I returned to the national news desk. I think it's a good compromise for now- I am still learning and giving myself time to enhance my language capability. I have been so hell bent on writing that I was having trouble working with my limitations. I could write about stuff related to the english-speaking population here (and most likely will push myself to) but the learning for me is stymied by only-english. It's kind of sad to know that there are certain topics you can write about without any new angle other than the recycled one you pitch to you editor as "new"; and it will get published because people are that eager for any point of entry, any "inside" info on the topic- feels like taking advantage of a person's desperation and my mind wanders to "false need" and "ideological imperialism". I'm being vague, sorry. I am thinking about a decades-old topic and trying to flip it so it's interesting enough to me to pursue. I dont feel too enthusiastic about bs-writing. Probably a good time to drop the idea and pick up another one. Maybe tomorrow, optimism will replace my cynicism.

Friendly strangers

2006-03-18T13:52:00.000+05:30

You know what I wanted to tell you guys?
Despite all the frustration of negotiating what the hell people are trying to communicate, one thing I truly love and feel refreshed by is that children are not afraid of strangers generally. So many times now I have seen mothers dining with their shopping buddies and not-too-busy waiters pick up the children and play with them as the mothers finish their meals. In a store you can smile at a child without the kid’s face becoming cloudy and furrowing into the folds of his/her mother’s clothes. They readily pick up conversation with you in movie theaters, restaurants, shopping, and look puzzled if you don’t respond or ignore them.
Once I was sitting somewhere and this little kid leaned on me to support himself while he fixed his shoe. I was startled and looked around for his guardian. His mom sort of smiled at me and hurried her kid along.
People often make comparisons between Mumbai and new york city, but the general friendliness of children is one major difference. Nyc kids are very wary of strangers at an early age. They always seek the permission of their guardians to speak to strangers before engaging in conversation.
Here people don’t mind if you start talking to their children. This freaked me out at first, but it’s kind of nice, the trust. The presence of children seems to be an equalizer in a place where social/class distinctions are very clearly drawn lines.

pictures i love

2006-03-14T01:04:00.000+05:30

check this out: david nightingale
a colleague showed this website to me. the way he got started is a pretty remarkable story.

Horn OK Please

2006-03-10T21:02:00.000+05:30

Horn OK Please

(There's an animated short out there with this title. I so wanted to see it, but I missed it.)

I hate when people driving big-important cars with big-important people in them honk for pedestrians to get the hell outta the way even if said pedestrian is on the opposite side of the road. For some people honking seems to be a tick. The other day an autorickshaw driver whipped his head to the right for every time he pressed the black button that makes that irritating, shrill "beep". By the end of my ten minutes in his vehicle I felt like screaming at him. Or a taxi driver who would sigh and and then just lay on the horn. No reason, just bored, needed to fully exhale. deep breath, exhale, hooooooooooonk. People honk like someone sitting at a desk violently jigs his leg up-and-down or drums her fingers on the desk. Stop honking the horn, OK? Please.

Yesterday's rain

2006-03-10T13:30:00.000+05:30

The air was soft and cool. The sun peeped out just before bidding us adieu. The ocean swirled into a dance and waltzed to land to say hello. As the ocean dipped and leaped, the sun projected streaks of watercolor hot pinks and deep oranges on a blue sky canvas. Their merriment was interrupted by a slight chill in the air. They turned to see that beautiful night had arrived.

rite of passage

2006-03-09T00:00:00.000+05:30

Well chilis, I have been unwell, passed out for a few days with some version of bronchitis and a viral cold. Apparently Bombay Dreams now understands the full meaning of my nuclear family’s belief that I am a bit of a hypochondriac. Since I slept for the better part of 96 hours, I am beginning to feel better.

What’s been interesting lately? I realized that an uncouth woman I encountered at the bank in January is a socialite/actress who bounced to India from Australia.

I saw one of many weddings in the street yesterday. Everyday you see a wedding procession blocking traffic. I wondered if this was special, this wedding. I saw some young women in salwar kamise dancing to the music of home made drums and horns and a glittery red and gold parasol shielding the bride or groom. As they walked/danced a man was sitting with his back to the street soaping himself into a thick sudsy lather. A woman hurried by in western clothes and streaked blond hair heading somewhere with purpose. Cars honked at each other to stop gawking and get a move on. The wedding seemed to be happening in the middle of an intersection. They were celebrating the occasion in a manner that suggested a day just a level above a normal day, not a momentous occasion. Marriage seems to be considered one of life’s milestones- like learning to walk, talk, feed self, potty train. This is curious to me as I do not think of having family and marriage as a necessary gateway to “adulthood”. I wonder where in history the concepts of marriage and adult life linked to each other.

Diving

2006-03-08T23:19:00.000+05:30

I feel bulldozed today. I am pretty sure I jumped in the deep end with this reporting thing. During a meeting today between reporters and editors, I was thinking about if I would feel this overwhlemed if I were in the same positon in nyc. My answer to that is most likely not, because I know new york and its neighborhoods and I speak two languages that are of great help in terms of accessing greater ny population. In Mumbai I am basically a stranger in a land I am just beginning to have an inkling about. This idea of reporting here seemed ballsy but is possibly foolish. I keep thinking maybe I should stay on the desk and write book reviews, movie reviews or something; but that is talk and a bit of research. I want to report- learn how to get first-hand information, learn how to manage communication barriers, learn how to fish for information very quickly and thoroughly. These are good life skills. During the meeting, though no one said anything explicitly, I began to fathom the responsibility of the job, even in the suburbs. People actually do read what you write and will seek you out and tell you what they think. What you write does not disappear in to oblivion but is part of a very large conversation. A very romantic notion as long as you don't have to do the footwork and get it right. oh, boy.

markers

2006-03-03T07:48:00.000+05:30

I recently noticed a cluster of girls chatting happily- one had a boy cut, another had a dancer's braid swaying slightly around mid-knees, one with only a hajib on, and another in full burka. All of them were wearing salwar kamise. My guess was that one was christian or not a strictly hindu, one was practicing hindu, and two were different types of muslims. (funny that i didnt assume one of them to be an atheist.) I am learning more about Islam while here. My understanding of Islam has been at best academic- sort of removed and lacking the nuance of spirituality. I am gaining an understanding of Islam as a way of life. Watching the girls talk was refreshing in that the dance of conversation seemed fluid between them, like with old friends.

Around noon to 1:30pm you see people praying in the street. People stop what they are doing and pray. Outside of the train station you'll see rows of people seated on the ground facing the direction of Mecca and praying as hoards of people walk around them to catch the next train. Faith and life for the most part seems symbiotic in relation to one another. The merge is not self conscious- no hiding, no assertion, it just is what it is.

That said around the time of major religious days there is a certain level of tension in the air. Police presence is more prevalent and there is worry of "riot" hanging in the air at times.

Religion, faith, tradition, culture- these concepts merge in to a churning ball of fire at a person's core. This seems to lend to a dual personality, especially in the jetset. maybe i don't see the connections yet. I firmly believe that if something seems crazy to me it's because i don't know the whole story or logic. People generally do not act outside of their perosonal logic, so when i don't get something i try to understand crazy's logic.

Checking in

2006-03-02T13:02:00.000+05:30

Hi, sorry for the long pause lovies. I needed to take as much of a break from the computer as possible. I felt like I was spending too much time staring at the screen. My eyes were starting to feel like dry marbles rolling around in my head, banging into all the tender and oh-so-fragile parts of my brain, creating massive near-migraines. Anyway, today I have three interviews to conduct for a little bitty profile of woman in the neighborhood. Should be fun. The most nerve-wracking part of this process is getting the interviews. Now that that's handled I am ready to meet some new blood. I miss conversations with strangers. I have them occasionally here, but not often at length. Though I am still meeting new folk at work, it's not the same as a surprise-of-the-day conversation.

Also, all the government hospitals in the state of Maharashtra are on strike. This includes Bombay Dream's hospital. The reason is that docs are getting beaten by their patients. So that's a littel bit of crazinees in our lives.

Time to go, will write more thoughtfully soon. Keep well all. mwah!

****************************************************************************
p.s.
story ditched. will finish writing it anyway. same topic was previously published less than a year ago.

Cluck, cluck

2006-02-22T23:34:00.000+05:30

So the bird flu is in India. Prices of mutton and fish have dramatically increased and chicken price has plunged. The government in various states is killing chicken on poultry farms en masse. Tens of thousands of chickens are being killed.

A medicine/poison is put in the water a chicken is about to consume. A chicken must ingest 5ml of the treated water and dies slowly over the period of two to three hours. After the chicken dies, it emits a foul odor.

The sister of the lady-of-the-house has a huge business selling, exporting all chicken products. She had seven hundred people working for her. The whole family is tied up in the business- her children and her children's spouses. Their chicken products were exported to the UK , huge orders from airlines, all halted and huge carriers returned from the UK unopened. She has had to close her factories and has to watch the government kill their chickens and dispose of the eggs. She's been appealing to ministers to find out what is going on because this is the season that chickens get sick with some other chicken illness and nothing like this has occurred before. When I was told this and nodded empathetically, all I could think was "don't put all of your eggs in one basket." The phrase pulsed along in my mind like a ticker-tape. It's been going through my mind all day.

So much chicken-talk and meat-talk and non-veg talk change to veg-talk flew around me all day. Since the summer of 2000, when the room I stayed in shared a half-wall with a chicken coop, the only thing I have ever been very aware of hating is the sound of chickens.

No egg whites, no chicken at all for a while, because the state is acting as a parent and cutting off access to chicken.

It's for a good reason, it's for a good reason, it's for a good reason- changing the ticker tape.

right to vote

2006-02-18T12:07:00.000+05:30

So I just read that NRIs are getting the right to vote. This mostly affects Indian nationals working in the Middle East. I think it’s a strange move because some NRIs who have cash, have lots of it and political connections. Those people could end up having too much influence on a country that they no longer inhabit, and may be out of touch with the issues at play here. I thought about this when I read that Anil Agarwal is planning to pay to set up a state of the art university somewhere in India. He’s considering five states as possible sites, and, according to ToI, Maharashtra is in the lead. He has a corporation called Vedanta that I kept mispronouncing in my mind as “vendetta”. His company will put up $1bln to set up the university and the university will be called Vedanta University. I know plenty of NRIs (basically, if you are of Indian origin (through your patriarchal lineage) and living abroad you are an NRI) and I wonder what folks think about being able to attain citizenship and if they would want the right to vote. Personally I was happy to find out I could even have dual citizenship. I did not mind not having the right to vote in India, it made sense to me. If you have property holdings and other investments here, then maybe you keep up with what’s going on and would like the right to vote. I guess I think about the definition of citizenship in this context. Hmm, still forming an opinion, any input is welcome.

Fresh Feeling

2006-02-16T11:05:00.000+05:30

I love this song by the Eels. I woke up this morning irritated. I dreamt about some unsavory characters I thought I had left in the past. So after trying to get some sagely advice from my feisty gran ("uck, just forget about that buffoon. did u get a valentine's day kiss?" a-haha! ) I put this song on replay and went about my morning routine. Now I am feeling great again.

Little cousins are accusing me of being to formal on this medium. It's a weird feeling to be la-la-la-la talking, and then realize that sometimes some stranger is listening. So I am working on the voice I use.

I am working at the nation desk now, which has a different energy than the international desk. Tempers flare for lesser things, so it's a gregarious volatile crew. The use of english is different at nation. The copy changes quite a bit from the time the reporter sends it and until it hits the page. The articles are edited with readership in mind so it has to stay light and conversational in tone. There's an element of indian-english in the nation news that i have to get used to. When i edited i look to make the copy as clean as possible without completely altering the writer's voice. Usually at nation, when i clean it up the tone becomes too formal. I notice that nation articles are peppered with italicized hindi idioms, whereas international was english only. I have been looking at other papers to see if this works, this change in voice from section to section.

Anyway, to many of you- thanks for keeping in touch, to some of you- drop me a line. ;)

Happy belated Valentine's Day

2006-02-15T12:19:00.000+05:30

There were huge protests all over the country against celebrating Valentine’s Day. Some called it a holiday of lust and not love, others shouted that Indians should not emulate the west. People in some parts gathered to burn Valentine’s Day cards. Influential extremist parties in some areas stated that any couple caught cuddling or coochy-cooing would be forced to marry. They were taken to the police station and their parents were called in and then told that they had to register the marriage of the couple in question. Some of the couples welcomed the mandate because then the relationship would have to be recognized by their folks, who in many cases disapprove of such relationships. Most of the forced marriage stuff ended up being a lot of blustering because there was dissent within the extremist party’s different factions.
From talking to people I gathered that the idea of Valentine’s Day celebration is pretty recent. Apparently Hallmark started marketing the holiday in India in the mid-90’s. So here Valentine’s Day seems to be something like Sweetest Day to Americans, a day that people celebrate, sometime grudgingly, but that many consider a bogus holiday, a card manufacturer’s marketing gimmick.

life or death

2006-02-13T01:06:00.000+05:30

In the morning just outside of the hospital compound, Bombay Dream noticed a man lying on the sidewalk sleeping in what he thought was an odd position. The man had his face covered, but Bombay Dream didn’t think too much of it because he just thought the guy had a peculiar sleep habit. Then much later in the day, early evening, Bombay Dream went out again and noticed the man no longer had his face covered and his eyes were partially open. He called, “Baba? Baba? Excuse me?” when he did not receive an answer, he leaned in and noticed ants crawling on the man, out of his nostrils and in his eyes. That’s when he realized the man was dead. He walked to the security guys, who were just on the other side of the wall, and they said, oh yeah, we know, you should call the police. So Bombay Dream called the police, but couldn’t believe that the man was just lying dead right outside the gate of the hospital and no one had bothered to take care of him even though they knew. The man will most likely go where unclaimed bodies go- to the morgue and then will be incinerated after some time. A sad way to go- no one around you, people barely noticing or caring if you are dead. Ask an elder here, why does this happen? Murmurings about karma, destiny, it was written…still do not stymie the incredulity of the situation in my mind.

Mrs.Doubtfire and Maximum City

2006-02-12T03:31:00.000+05:30

Suketu Mehta’s “Maximum City” is my companion. I received his book before leaving the US as a birthday gift. I halt my life to read most books. I have cancelled plans, bailed on friends, and pushed deadlines to finish a book. This book is different. I pick up the book, read a bit in the morning when I wake up or just before sleeping. I feel like I am listening to someone who shares an understanding with me, whose definition of home is many places and many people. I feel like some chapters offer insight into worlds I will not have ready access to and some feel like a pat-on-the-shoulder “don’t sweat this kid” relief. Since the trouble at this home has now settled down to a backburner issue, I flipped through the book and landed where the author and his family move to Bandra after their first year back in Mumbai. He talked about his wife’s Hindi getting better, they work with perceived inefficiency rather than against the grain, and their lives start to warm up with new and old people with whom they enjoy spending time. He called the money wasted- getting ripped off by most people that you encounter, higher prices attached to your accent, not being able to tell people off adequately, trying not to get sick by buying mineral water, adjusting even though you’re pretty sure a compromise was not reached only a sugar-coated demand obliged- a “newcomer’s tax”. Lately I have been paying that tax not just monetarily but in other ways too. I find myself biting my tongue when the answer I get for why we do not cover Africa news as much, is at best a superficial understanding of “the readership”. I bite my tongue when I notice people lie. Little, white, transparent lies, the purpose of which I don’t understand. I can always feel when I am being lied to, like an itchy bug bite. Most of the time the lies have nothing to do with me, but I am baffled by a lie every time. Most times there are at least two different conversations happening simultaneously. There is the textual- light, small talk; the subtextual-what the other gains from this exchange; the character sketch- who am I talking to. Then there’s the junk/ color- the lies that you forget about or laugh about down the road. So I turn to Suketu Mehta to elaborate on these communication differences for me. He gets how I think and he also gives me a plausible idea for what the folks in my latest environment may be thinking. India is an odd place for me to be I’m not totally on the outside of things but I am not on the inside either. You can apply for Indian citizenship even if your grandfather was born here and your folks were not. You have all rights except the right to vote. Someone that I don’t know well at all asked me if I consider myself Indian or American. I said that I am American, and then said well, American but some cultures of India inform my life in deep ways too. I think about this a lot. I realize that the images of Americans abroad are narrow indeed and depressing. Baywatch, the current administration, the OC, MTV, Disney, Pepsi, McDonald’s- all that is America- one boring, migraine-inducing, fun-in-small-doses face. What is missed is what makes America fantastic- so many varied stories, different faces, people from all over the world, some degree of socioeconomic mobility-all of what’s bubbling beneath the surface is glazed over with candy images. Hmm, it’s close to 3:30am and watching Mrs. Doubtfire sparked this mind-unwind. Go figure. My guess- a very long winded “I’m homesick”. G’night ;)

Let's Go to the Movies

2006-02-10T11:30:00.000+05:30

The auto rickshaws swarming around my neighborhood are starting to look like cockroaches to me. I have been angry, irritated, and basically in a sore mood because things on the home front are a bit dicey for stupid reasons, hence reinforcing exactly why I hate to deal with the menial tasks of daily living. It’s a disconcerting experience to be in a foul mood when it’s so damn sunny outside.

Anyway, I want to put myself in a better frame of mind so let me tell you about a theatre experience here. Last weekend we went to see the late show of Raang de Basanti, the latest Bollywood mega-hit. The movie has its problems, but it’s a feast. Before the movie everyone sat in the theatre- chatting, dropping food, having extensive cell phone conversations. Ushers shined too-bright lights in your eyes helping people to their seats who unwittingly stomp on each other, then decided they wanted to sit next to some other friend and asked some stranger to please move to that seat because s/he wants to sit here. Witnessing the chaos, you hope for the best- that people will not continue to be distracting. Then the strains of "Jana Gana Mana" floated around the room, as it became stronger, everyone stood for the national anthem (which isn’t played at every movie theater nationwide, but is in Mumbai), there was patriotic silence. You could feel the electricity in the room. Then the movie started and the audience clung to each other and their seats as we moved with the emotional tides of the movie. There’s an element of call-and-response in the movie. When a hero said “your mother’s eye” (I still don’t get the depth of the insult) in Hindi to a villain, the audience whooped, wolf-whistled, clapped, and settled down to a chorus of “shh, shh, shh”. When the musical scores came on people sang aloud with the track or played air guitar to a rock instrumental (symbol of today’s youth). During the weepy moments most of the theater leaned forward, attentive and eyes glistening with unshed tears. I am telling you men and women alike. If someone dared to cough during such a moment, the “shh, shh, shh” began again. This crowd was on the same wavelength. For those few hours everyone cared about the same thing deeply, passionately. There’s definitely power in harnessing that kind of energy. I thought about this a lot during the movie because the movie was about countering apathy.

Go Steelers!!!

2006-02-06T10:50:00.000+05:30

Woohoo! Pittsburgh must be crrraaazy right now. They were hungry for that win. Similar to football fanaticism , the sport is cricket. When India played Pakistan recently more than half of the office was crowded around the tv (we have the tv on 24/7 following tv news) during various parts of the day. Those of us who had to stay at our desks were craning our necks over the sea of people trying to get a glimpse of what was happening. Pakistan won.

Hot Town

2006-02-04T00:11:00.000+05:30

I’m burnin’ up here. My face is beet red and no matter how much sunblock I put on I am darkening everyday. As any of my nuclear family will tell anyone, I am a bit of a hypochondriac at times. But I ‘m not kidding, my face and arms hurt most days because of exposure to sun and I crave to wear long sleeves, so that I stop frying myself. Tomorrow I shall hunt for the sunblock of all sunblocks- that brand which has zinc oxide as it’s major ingredient. That stuff is like a shield against the sun. I'll need it with summer around the corner. I also have a weird bug bite on my neck…feels spread out like a spider bite but does not hurt/burn like a spider bite does. Yeah, you wanted to know,

I realize that I don’t say much about work. If the reasons are not obvious, I don’t speak about work because it doesn’t seem prudent to do that. That said, work is definitely interesting and usually an experience I look forward to in my day. I am switching desks in this coming week and I feel a little sad about not working with the people at my desk in the same capacity. I am switching just to vary the experience (I am moving to an editing desk for a different section) and I want to start reporting. I can’t forget about my objectives.

I’ve been very lucky to have every aspect of my life truck along on an even keel lately. It’s been a while and it is bliss. Knock on wood.

Will write more soon. I think I need some sleep. Mwah! G’night :)

Music_Man

2006-02-02T11:04:00.000+05:30

This weekend I finally got a chance to hangout with the man of the house. He’s an Ayurvedic doctor with some famous clientele. He’s developing a new technique of massage set to music. So he demonstrated on my shoulders and neck and I have to say that the tension that I carry dissipated after that 6-minute massage. He doesn’t do the normal kneading, but it’s a light tapping: tap, tap, tap-tap-tap-tap-, tap-tap, tap, tap-tap-tap, tap-tap, tap, ta-a-a-a—p, tap.

He got into the business about 15 years ago. At that time he was a business man who had been diagnosed with stage II cancer. Twenty-eight days that he spent in the hospital has changed his life forever. “I felt an energy go through me. It was a gift. I realized that I must help people heal.” He then said, “I went to the other side and came back.” From that point on “I had to do good. Not do things for monetary reasons, but because people feel better after I help them.”

I like listening to his way of saying that music is the great equalizer when talking about how Zakir Hussain, “though a staunch Muslim,” performs any venue be it temple or church, or Carnegie Hall. Then in the next breath he tells me he liked Wisconsin because “there aren’t that many blacks there” and the streets are organized and quiet. Then the next story he says he can’t live any where else because he would miss the chaos and buzz of this city. Despite these turns and contradictions he wholeheartedly says that he is always working to be a better person. He says no matter who he meets, he looks for the good in that person and works with that. He discusses the world in terms of energy and the world being about the handling of this energy. I like talking to people who don’t see the world in concrete terms. When you think about how vision works, how sound works, how color comes to be what it is, how light works, how the senses work by explanation of science/ physics, it’s actually a beautiful metaphor he weaves.

Guilt

2006-02-01T00:24:00.000+05:30

Most of the time, I feel accustomed to seeing people beg for money on the street. I understand that a whole system is in place. Someone sends children out begging and then takes the money from them. Sometimes parents put their kids up to the task. If you tried to take the kid home with you people would come out of the woodwork to find you and the kid. That said I still feel immensely guilty when a kid surprises me with a light, incessant poke-poke-poke to my knees. Often on the train these kids jump on into the ladies’ first class car, because it’s less crowded and because they look for money and beg. Sometimes these kids don’t even bother, they just enjoy the ride and hoot and holler and tease each other. If you look at them too blatantly they revert into the street mode and come over and stand in front of you tapping you and holding their palms out for money. When you’re not watching them they have this bundle of bristles tied at the top that they use to sweep under people’s feet looking for fallen bits of food and change. So often I have watched these kids sweep with one gesture and quickly pick out the bits of food and pop those bits into their mouths. So much guilt. At home I would absolve this guilt by participating in the community- most often by tutoring kids, teaching people to read, volunteer at homeless shelters, organize events. Here, what people need is money. It doesn’t make sense to teach someone to read English when s/he can’t read in his/her first language.

I feel as though one year is not enough time to be here. Hold me to that when I start whining mid-year.

Jan.26-Linking Road

2006-01-29T12:35:00.000+05:30

Republic Day was a lot of fun. The place to be for the extensive hoopla was New Delhi. I watched some of the ceremony on television. Then I went outside and walked all over Bandra, where I live. There were sales everywhere. The main shopping drag in Bandra is a stretch called Linking Road. Among huge shopping centers and street vendors are many boutiques- think Rodeo drive meets Mall of America meets nyc’s Chinatown. Also add lots of dust, construction, and many people utilizing many modes of transportation fighting for a piece of the street. I turned onto a side street to find refuge from the frenzied energy of too many folks walking around with a shopper’s buzz. The street was lined with closed boutiques. As I walked along the street, I saw a cow standing on the stoop of one with her head pressed against the window pane either looking in or resting. I looked around wondering whose cow this was. She seems unperturbed, just standing there staring at all the beautiful clothes or sleeping. Don’t cows sleep standing up?

First, I’m not techie by any stretch of the imagination. That said, don’t expect pics anytime soon as I seem to have taken only three pics on a 50-pic card, probably something to do with resolution. So I know what happened but I have to figure out how to change the setting on my camera. I’ll probably need until March to figure out how to take, download, and then upload pics without such a time delay. Bear with me.

Baby Steps and more

2006-01-26T12:37:00.000+05:30

Today I decided to rely on people other than Bombay Dream. I don’t know if I am getting on his nerves but I am getting on mine. Sometimes I get stuck, I forget how old I am. I have these worried pangs of 8th grade woe, “What if they don’t like me? What if they think I’m annoying?” Plenty of people my age have kids that are well on their way to adolescence and I often still feel stuck in mine. So this is yet another lesson I will learn here, how to trust other people and not freak out about it. This is on my mind because I made myself call someone I don’t know at all and ask for a favor and she was so kind about it and more helpful than I could have fathomed. It’s been a while since I have fostered new friendships on a conscious level, hence the adolescent flashbacks. :)

I have taken some pics today, so they'll be up soon. I know, you wait with bated breath. heheheh ;)

Republic Day

2006-01-25T10:43:00.000+05:30

Tomorrow, Thursday is India's Republic Day, this means parades, foreign dignitaries, and a day off. This year the Saudi King has been ivited to initiate the opening ceremony. India has had a contentious relationship with Saudi Arabia for many years because of Saudi's support of Pakistan regarding Kashmir. The Kashmir issue has not changed...I am forgetting something major. I'll have to read and come back with this. Apparently after 9/11 the Saudi government reacted by developig counter-terrorism strategies and renewing alliances with other countries such as India to work against terrorrism. It's interesting to get to know more about terrorrism from this end of the perspective. The US airstrike in Pakistan has been defintely interesting to follow, I wonder what went down in the meeetings held between Musharraf and his Ministers and Bush delegation.

The day that India gained Independence from Bristish rule is August 15, 1947. Republic Day celebrates January 26,1950, the day that India's Constitution became effective.

For me Thursday will also be picture day. So you'll finally get a glimpse of auto ricksaws, my exciting walk to the train, etc.

I'll get back to you on Saudi-India relations, more for me than you I guess. ;)

Joy ride

2006-01-24T13:41:00.000+05:30

Kai sa he? Hmm no.

Ap ka nam kya he? Hmm, no

How to say:

Who pimped your ride?

Your standard auto rickshaw has blue vinyl seats, brown-black roof, minimum comfort, and some masala of human smell. The tricked out ride I got today was Pleather. A beautiful egg shell white pleather covered the seats and the roof. The roof was lined with a border of faux velvet with a brown background and a swirly pattern of neon green and fluorescent orange. The sound system, of the sub-woofer variety, blared a similarly chintzy but appealing hindi filmi tune. I so enjoyed the ride. I had to refrain from laughing with joy and puzzling the driver. Most autos are embellished, but usually awkwardly so with a fluorescent light that glares like an interrogation lamp or huge speakers through which the music warbles out. But this, my friends, was artwork of the urban landcape.

Correction

2006-01-22T12:15:00.000+05:30

So I have to correct myself. The people who set up the squatter's settlement pay a large amount of money relative to their incomes for space but the gross value is in the land they sit on. The land they sit on is often prime development property, so if a group of squatters want to settle there and want to fight corporation they can by enlisting the backing of another corporate party. I am not sure how this works on the other corporate party's behalf. Anyway, that huge amount I mentioned previously is more related to the land-value than to the cost for a squatter to get space within the settlement.

Cardio Coach

2006-01-21T01:08:00.000+05:30

Did anyone read the article in the New Times Style section about the cardio coach, basically a personal trainer on your MP3 player and now iTrainer available on your ipod? Crazy but absolutely compelling. Has anyone tried it out?

The Neighborhood

2006-01-21T01:03:00.000+05:30

Life is settling down these days, I can feel routine's tentacles trying to grab hold. Even the train is becoming routine, which is heartening for me.

Two little guys, kids who live on the street, were scampering between the tracks. I am disturbed that while I watched them the image of the little rats in nyc subway scamper in the same benign way popped into my mind. I was watching them in the same way. A little worried about them, but they seemed to know what they were doing. The kids seemed old for their age. They had a pet puppy with them, a stray who was scared to leap down to the tracks, so one boy hoisted the spotted pup over his shoulder and they ran to the other side of the tracks ran on the tracks toward town a bit and then hopped up onto the opposite platform. Thank god they were not in the tracks when a train was arriving. Those kids would be interesting to talk to. I got the feeling that I could learn quite a bit from them.

I changed my routine a little today, so I feel a lot better. I walked around the neighborhood, had a litte lunch and I took an auto rickshaw to the train station. While in the auto I looked to my left and saw Bandra Lake. I did not realize that I pass that lake everyday. I knew that I had to walk some way around it, but I never saw it. You know why, because I am busy looking at the ground to maneuver the uneven roads and dance around beetle juice or I am looking forward to dodge people since I still haven’t quite figured out the rhythm of things yet. That was eye opening, I missed a lake.

I notice that people tend to move in groups, especially women. I did not realize until now how much time I like to spend alone until now. Bombay Dream and I went to part of the Mumbai festival (the festival is a citywide celebration that is happning around Jan.15 and Jan.26, Mumbai marathon and Republic Day respectively. There are workshops, performances, fairs, craftsmen selling their wares, etc.) tonight and then walked around my neighborhood. Happily we found a little movie theater within walking distance of my home. So at least I can pick up going to the movies by myself again. I love to go to the movies by myself, it’s so relaxing, no commercials after the movie’s started, no one wants to change the channel, and I can get completely lost in the movie and hold on to that feeling for a longer period of time. Luckily Bombay Dream gets this as this is a hobby we, sounds strange I guess, that we share.

Thanks for many e-mails. I am a little inside my head these past few days, bear with me. I’ll peek out again soon.

Dust

2006-01-20T08:20:00.000+05:30

Despite all of my efforts, I woke up yesterday morning thinking I had lost vision in my left eye. All day long I used copius eyedrops and I was seeing double at work. So by the end of the night I made one last ditch effort by putting this cream in my eye that a doc precribed in December. If that didn't work I would go to the opthalmologist in the morning. Well, I woke up this morning with my vision restored. At the edge of my eyelashes I found, not normal sleep sand, but tiny dust particles that covered my eye all day. That fine layer of dust is called 'silt' I believe, but I thought that only occurred in arid, desert climates.

The weather the past couple of days has been cold by Mumbai standards, beautiful by my standards. It's been very breezy, so lots of dust in the air. I assumed this would not affect my eyes as I wear these huge sunglasses any time I am outside and I use eyedrops like they are an addiction.

Why all this fuss about my eyes? i had eye surgery some months ago and they are still healing. without contacts my eyes feel very vulnerable. at least with contacts if my eyes were irrtated I could just take out my contacts and problem solved.

What I Miss

2006-01-19T11:23:00.000+05:30

I’m sorry, but I have to indulge:

I miss seeing an abundance of people of different races.

I miss fully grasping the nuance of language. I am getting used to Hindi-English but I feel like I am listening to static. Only now I can understand more if I strain to listen. I dream in Hindi every night. This is surprising to me since I don’t really hear that much Hindi all day. Strange considering I have no idea what is being said in my dream and I have no idea when I wake up either.

I miss cold weather and snow.

I miss my winter clothes.

I miss nights at home with the fire going and watching Netflix with the family.

I miss weekends away. This I could easily remedy here, but going away so often when living in nyc made adapting to the city a longer process. So, I choose to stay put.

I miss indy movies.

I no longer miss nyc as much, mostly because I am in another of the world’s great cities.

Generally I have been cranky this week because of a fever and cold and I feel like homesickness is on the brain because a few people have asked me about it. I guess I’d be more homesick if I felt really entrenched in my life at home, but I didn’t. By no means did I see everyone I care about everyday when at home. So I still feel connected to everyone I want to be connected to. Hmm. Okay, got that out.

Here's a pic for a friend who was slightly miffed that the monkey made the list and not this stellar photo :P

about the Street

2006-01-17T00:33:00.000+05:30

Early this morning the maid explained to me that she has a daughter who is a physician living in Connecticut, a son who is in the Merchant Navy living in New Zealand ,and a third son (she grimaces) has "some job" and lives with his mom. Tonight the lady of the house and I ran an errand together and she drove us to the copy center and then drove me around the neighborhood. Right across the street from Abhishek Bachan's mansion-house (he's a huge Bollywood star and the son of an even bigger Bollywood star) is a squatter's settlement. The Lady of the House had taken me around to these mansions to show me how to get to the beach from the house. We were talking about the maid and her children and she said, "her children are so successful and, you know, she lives in a house like that," pointing to the squatter's settlement, "after all that she has done for them, they don't help her leave." When the maid had told me about her children I thought she was talking about her sister's or brother's kids, because here many communities share the raising of their children. She was talking about the children she gave birth to. Apparently the two living abroad are brilliant and this woman is originally from Gujarat and converted to catholicism in Mumbai. Her church helped to fund the older two kids' educations. The youngest kid,a son, he is a goon for work. He is hired by various types of lending institutions to beat up the folks who do not repay the loans given to them. Her husband works for the railways. ---The middle class in India is growing, but here, especially in certain parts of Mumbai the divide between the haves and have nots is stark and misleading in some way. I say it's misleading because to live in those squatter settlements costs serious money, sometimes as much as a crore or two (approx. between $200,00-$450,00). Also, since the settlements are not in anyway legal, but the government cannot demolish them (this i need to further explore), these sidewalks are sold to builders for large sums of money and then the builders either pay those who have settled there or offer them flats. This scamming runs on all levels. I just read on the wire some news about a man who is a crooked politician who just got elected to a political office. He had sanctioned the building of these illegal structures for many years and now that he has moved up the political ladder, to secure the middle class' confidence, he has ordered a blanket demolition of several of these buildings. The interview was searing, he was very sharp-tongued and unwilling to address this contradiction.

Train ride

2006-01-16T14:00:00.000+05:30

YAY!!! The ladies' car isn't nearly as daunting as the general car. I also managed to translate to my legs that slowing down in front of oncoming traffic is not counter intuitive; This allows the cars to decide which way to go around you. Okay, back to work . YAY!!!

The Street

2006-01-16T11:46:00.000+05:30

I have been thinking about the squatter’s settlements/slums lately. These villages within the city are set up on the sidewalk. The other day, Sunday evening, on my way to work, we drove by a group of young men and boys playing an intense match of cricket. They had blocked a section of the road where it divides as their ground. The road is supposed to be a double lane road on each side, but really it’s a single lane. The living, in the pretty sturdy structures built on the sidewalk, spills into the road. You see people cooking, washing up, doing their laundry, making the craft they will vend in the street. These people are not homeless, the street is where they have made their homes. The societies they have created are organized, there is a hierarchy of authority, people pay to buy or rent a space in these dwellings. General knowledge is that these folk come to the city in search of money and a better standard of living. Sometimes I have sick feeling in my stomach when I think about how much worse things might have been in the place they left. But then, maybe they are stuck here now. There is a lot that I do not understand on these streets. Like in the paper the other day a gangster was arrested for killing a man. The way the facts read it seems that the deceased man may have had some unfinished business with these gangsters, but somehow the police decided to make an example of this gangster and brought him in on charges of homicide. The photo of the gangster was a picture of a podgy, unassuming everyday man. I guess my sense of who I am looking at is in a tizzy. I was walking around my neighborhood Sunday afternoon before work, trying to find a particular place, as I kept walking around the fact that only men were on the street, except for a white woman who smiled at me, were on the street dawned on me. Was it dangerous to walk around on a Sunday afternoon? I was not nervous until I had to walk by clumps of men. I felt like I was being paranoid a little, but I think it’s because my warning alarms kicks in at weird times. Like when crossing the street I get an overwhelming sense of “uh, just stay here” I really feel like my life is threatened every time I cross a street unless it’s at night and relatively few cars are on the road. I am also freaking out a bit because this is the first day I take public transport, the train, by myself. I know, I know, I’m being a big baby. I am just having a surge of feeling lost. I should be fine once I walk out the door, out of my safe, comfortable, abode. Seriously, as I continue to explore my surroundings I am sure this sensation of feeling overwhelmed will dim and vanish soon enough. That’s my alarm, telling me to get ready and go to work.

The House

2006-01-15T11:09:00.000+05:30

Every, single morning I hear someone in the bathroom splashing around like an elephant in a kiddie pool. So yesterday I ventured to ask the lady of the house about this. She told me that a man , who cleaned the place we live in for the previous tenants, comes at 6 am everyday to clean this bathroom. She said after they moved in he showed up saying that his father did the same work and that he has been cleaning this flat since he was a kid, so they must pay him. He is now an older man. After one month of waking up to open the door for this person to clean one bathroom, the "new" owners of this flat told him that they no longer need his services as they have a woman coming in at a very reasonable 10:30 am. He said, "No, I will arrive at 6am and you must pay me." I asked the lady of the house, "oh so when did u move in, recently?" She said, "Mmm, well, he has not missed a day in the ninteen years that we are here." Nineteen years. Since he refuses to refrain from showing up every morning, she wakes up and opens the door for him and gives him access to clean the only bathroom he can get to from the hallway, which is my bathroom and which shares a wall with my room. --I live in a great area with a family of very laidback and so helpful to me folk. The lady of the house is excellent at bargaining. In our feeble attempt to bargain Bombay Dream and I got the price of an internet connection reduce by Rs.500. The net guys came early, while the Ladyof the House was still around, and in a matter of 5 minutes flat, she got the whole thing-installation plus the 3mos. lump sum- reduced by Rs.900 and got me a free upgrade to be activated whenever I want and I can retain the rate I pay now for the rest of my time here. The process is amazing to watch, I saw glimmers of this when we went gym-shopping. Apparently she's the friend who get pulled along when her friends aren't sure how to bargain. Here a rupee is a rupee and you can bargain almost everything, even for vegetables. This is taking some getting used to, but bargaining is necessary not just for "a rupeee saved is a rupee earned" but because this ability is also about being taken seriously as someone who knows what's up. She is teaching me a lot about approach here and street smarts.

More pics

2006-01-15T01:36:00.000+05:30

***The Moms***

After the engagement ceremony his family gave me a beautiful gift that i will wear as part of my wedding jewelry in December
***The Dads***
The Families (plus Bombay Dream's Friend)