Self(ie) destruction

 I have always had a low self esteem when it comes to my photographs. Though , as a child, I was fond of dressing up and like all other kids, loved to pose in every photograph that was taken during occasions like wedding or family functions. My uncle, who was a budding photographer then, used to click my pictures at random and when I happened to look at them later, I always wondered why my nose looked this way in a photograph, or why my head was tilted in another or why my hair strand was not in place in the third. I eternally have complaints about the way I look in every photograph. There has never been a perfect photograph of myself in my opinion. But never do I shy away from posing with the hope that at least the next photograph would turn out be a perfect one for me. But I am yet to have that satisfaction.
With the advent of mobile phones, taking pictures of random people , random places has become a huge hobby. I do agree that having a camera so handy has helped me capture some beautiful moments instantly without having to run around finding a good camera and setting it up. But I am appalled by this craze of taking "selfies" and "usfies" in the recent times. It is almost bordering on arrogance to take so many pictures of oneself as though nothing in the world around you is more important than yourself. There are reports about how people are happily clicking selfies in the midst of accidents and have become victims of accidents due to carelessly taken selfies. I don't understand how people can stare at the camera and click pictures which enlarge their features to monstrous proportions and still find them to be pleasing to the eyes and upload them on their social media sites. The endless pouting poses annoy me and I am unable to recognise even the close relatives in their selfie poses due to the enlarged features and wierd expressions. But surely, this selfie craze has brought a positive outlook in me and I have lesser complaints about my looks in the normal photographs that are taken and in fact, feel glad that my features don't look enlarged as in selfie and the natural background of my picture is more pleasing to the eyes than a narcissistic selfie.

Sugar crush!

Does the title sound like candy crush , latest sensation among the gaming enthusiasts? I am sure, the success of this game is due to the huge diabetic population which relishes the candies at least in the game.
Since both my parents are diabetic and always the threat of me becoming one is there , I thought I should have enough of all the sweets I relish before I come into the risk category. I never realized till about recently that diabetes was knocking at my door and it would all come down to my will power not to open the door for it.  Recent round of health check up showed that I am a borderline case and  am likely to  join the club soon.
As a first step towards prevention, I decided not to give in to the weakness of munching chocolates at any given time and also cut down on sugar added to tea or coffee. I was foolish enough to think that this is going to be a cakewalk (why do I have to think of cake now?). Gulping down a bitter cup of coffee early in the morning was the worst punishment I have had in my life so far.  Just a sip and I decided, ok, I am just borderline case, a half spoon of sugar won't do me any harm and promised to myself , no more sugar for the day.  Then during the day, every time I opened my fridge, there was the  chocolate bar that was inviting me. I convinced myself just this day would be the last day of having that bar and I had a hearty bite. By evening, my neighbour sent me a bowl of kheer she had made and I had to taste couple of spoons  as I was sure she would ask my feedback the next day. By the end of the day, starting with a half spoon sugar in my morning coffee , I realised that I have had the regular dose of my sweets and it was just another day of my life without any changes for the warning I have received.
As a daughter, there have been innumerable instances when I have screamed at my father and mother for giving in to temptations and eating sweets during festivals and they were not even habitual sweet lovers like me. Except for the diabetes related outbursts (one or two per day) I can vouch that I lead a very , happy, quarrel free life with my diabetic husband.
If just one day of my life without sugar was so torturous and difficult to resist temptations, I am dreading the Diwali time when the house is going to be loaded with chocolates and sweets of all kinds. The real test for me lies ahead and I am already busy browsing the net for all kinds of tips to keep my sugar level under control irrespective of the amount of sweets I eat. I am also trying to drink everything from karela juice to aloe vera juice and anything recommended by anybody to keep diabetes at bay. I am sure, I am going to get free advice wherever I go and I am game for trying them as long as they give me the choice to enjoy my sweets. The images below are for representation purposes only !

Eco-friendly Ganesha

Ganesh Chathurthi is one of my favourite Hindu festivals, since it involves lord Ganesha, the most fascinating Hindu God and also the modaks that are made during the festival are my favourite sweet. The vivid memory from my childhood celebrating this festival, involves the trip to the market to buy a small idol of Ganesha for the puja. Couple of days before the festival, the market area used to be bustling with activity, with mountains of clay being kept on the pavements and artisans busy making the idol for the orders. I used to watch fascinated the way the artisans deftly created the elephant face and within minutes, the ball of clay turning into an idol was a real treat. the fun part of the puja was the visarjan or immersion of the idol in ponds or wells that followed the day after the puja. The idol was dropped into the well and the whole family stood around the well watching the idol slowly getting immersed and disappearing.
Though the prices of the clay idol have gone up over the years,  the simplicity of the festival, celebration with a clay idol and its immersion is still a custom that is followed. But after coming to mumbai, the city which is known for its Ganesh chathurthi festival and its grandeur, I realise that the celebration here is not as eco friendly as in chennai, my home town.
We could not find a single market which had clay or artisans making clay idols and we were not interested in buying huge PoP idols that were sold.  The idols  are huge and the festival is a community celebration. Hence the puja and immersion are a grand affair with lot of song, music and dance. Though it has a different flavour here, the noise pollution and the water pollution that result from the celebrations here is really frightening and I wonder what kind of negative impact will this festival have in the future, and just hope that huge PoP idols and playing loud music during the festivities at every corner of the streets is banned soon.
Though a small percentage of the population in Maharashtra is now thinking of eco friendly ways of celebrating the festival, its going to take several years before the entire state changes its way and the damage caused to the nature might be too much by then.

 Huge procession for immersion which stalls the entire city on the day.








Immersion of huge idols     

    The remains of the idols at the sea shore days after the immersion

Getting rid of books.

My father, as I have mentioned earlier in my blog posts, was a voracious reader. He used to say that his father, who was a school teacher in a small village used to get him books from his school library and my father read them at such a pace that soon my grandfather had to borrow books from friends and relatives to keep my father engaged. My father had no restrictions with regard to the subjects he read. His biggest disappointment in us as children was that we were not as widely read as he was. But the good habit that he inculcated in us , I realise, is of great value at middle age.
I have not been an avid reader like my father despite having a huge library at home and always had the excuse that I was busy with my studies and later on with my family duties. But I am ashamed and at the same time amazed that my daughters have taken after my father more than me and are able to read books along with their academic pursuits. If alive, my father would have been proud of them.
Now, well into my late 40s, I realize that I have more time on my hands than before and I should not be giving lame excuses for not reading books. But with time, technology has grown multi-fold  and books as hard copies are no longer preferred. Few years back, my daughters used to pester me to buy books they have heard about from their friends and this habit was burning a hole in our pockets as the new editions were really expensive. But for the past couple of years they have switched over to e-books and they are busy with their tablets and kindles reading books. I too have started reading books which I had been planning since years to read and find that they are easily accessible over the internet and I need not even step out of my house, visit a library or a bookshop to find my favourite book. But its a strange feeling to hold a e-reader and flip pages just with the touch of the finger. There is no cosy feeling of holding my book close to me next to the pillow when I doze off while reading. The intoxicating fragrance of the printed pages is no longer there. I am missing all this, but still having thousands of books at the touch of your finger is rather a big boon than searching rows and rows of books in a library for that single one which you would be hooked to.
My e-reader I hope would become my best buddy in the days to come. 

Courage in adversity

Few years back, for a brief period , I had to stay alone in Bangalore with two small kids as my husband had been posted to Singapore and I could not move in immediately with him. That brief period of managing two small kids all alone in Bangalore was a tough period. I could not leave them behind in the apartment if I had to go out to buy groceries or vegetables as they were very young and I was scared that they might accidentally do something if left alone. but managing them outside with all the shopping bags and busy roads to cross was a bigger challenge. But the biggest challenge of staying alone was facing the callous attitude of one of the officers of my husband's company  towards me as we were staying in the company given apartment.
As per the rules, we were entitled to occupy the apartment till my children completed the academic year in the school, even if my husband was posted elsewhere. My husband had clearly explained this to me and asked me not to worry about continuing to stay in the apartment. But , out of the blue, one day, a good friend of my husband who was also the senior officer in the company, barged into my apartment and asked me the details as to when I was to vacate the flat. When I explained to him that I was awaiting the visa and school authorities to provide me the necessary transfer certificate for my children, he refused to believe it and said I was overstaying and I could be thrown out any time. Despite being an educated woman and fully aware of the company rules, I was shaken and had to call my husband and inform him about this threat.  I was petrified and was under constant fear that some other officer too could walk in like that and threaten me. Luckily, I vacated the apartment soon after that. Despite being an educated woman, I was afraid of the higher authorities who had the audacity to threaten a housewife in the absence of her spouse. It takes lot of guts to stand up to them and I have  never been a brave one in my life who could raise her voice or show courage while facing rude or abusive people .

Family of Fireman Killed in Mumbai High-Rise Fire Refuses to Take His Body(News headlines)

Therefore, it was a huge surprise for me when I came across this news of a fire fighter’s wife, who was not half educated as me , raise her voice against the authorities who were responsible for her husband's death and blamed their apathy for her husband's death. She even refused to take her husband's body home unless she was assured in writing for a handsome compensation and an assured job for her. The authorities as usual waited for her to relent , but when they knew she was adamant in her demands, they had to given in and had to provide the written assurance she asked for. Now few other fire-fighter’s widows too are coming out with their woes of not being provided with adequate compensation or jobs. But congratulations to this brave woman who stood up even at that moment of personal loss to get justice from the authorities. Truly a lesson of courage for me!

Germany and football!

Germany winning the football world cup this week is the biggest source of joy for me personally. Reason being that I was in Germany during the first meeting of the same two teams, namely , Germany and Argentina , in the world cup final in 1986. I was a typical chennai girl at that time, with hardly any exposure to sports and least of all,  football. So during my stay when the world cup was underway, I could not understand the frenzy that surrounded the game there. It was funny for me to watch people glued to their tv sets whether it was in the office or at home. They spoke of nothing else than football at all times. With limited knowledge of the language then, I was not greatly influenced by their chats but then it was personally boring for me, since I neither understood the game, nor the football fever that grips the population there. I was totally ignorant of how great it is for a national team to qualify for the final until I had to step out on the day of the final and was on the road for about half an hour during the match time, and it was scary. There was not a single soul on the road for miles ahead and my friend who was driving the car was driving at top speed of 200km/hr to reach home to watch the match. I was petrified and for the first time, I realized how much this game meant to this European nation. Maybe all the European countries and even the south american countries are under the same intoxicating influence of this game.

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But I had first hand experience of seeing it, living with it, in Germany and it was sad that they lost the finals that time. Even a double championship in tennis (both Boris Becker and Steffi Graf won the singles titles that year) could not be a consolation for the citizens with that biggest loss in football.
After my stay in Germany, back home , I started watching football matches and especially during the world cups. Again 4 years later, these two teams were the finalists and this time , I understood the craze this game generates worldwide and was cheering wildly for my adopted country, Germany. They won and every world cup after that, I stopped watching the matches, once Germany lost and was never interested in any other country playing the game in the finals. I was becoming a crazy German fan while watching football and hence it was a sweet and memorable moment this time around where the country made me sit and watch them till the finals.
Kudoz Germany!

Finding appa

I thought I was close to my father, like all daughters who think so and was shaken to realise that I knew only one side of him and had not noticed the fascinating other side of him. My father, as I knew him, was a very patient, not so disciplining, but loving and caring father, Though he was not physically present in most of the important occasions in my life, I knew his heart was with me and felt very blessed that he chose to stay with me during his last days.  He was intelligent, witty and very well read and admired by people who knew him. I got to know him better only during the last few months of his life when he stayed with me after my marriage. Till then, I grew up without realizing that I was the daughter of a genius who was a walking encyclopedia. For me he was the man who brought me lovely dresses and loads of chocolates after each of his trips abroad and who cracked the best jokes in the world and was chilled out even when I carelessly lost valuable items or didn't do well in the exams. I was also scared and intimidated by his knowledge and would pray everyday that he didn't ask me awkward questions about my studies or whether I have read about random stuff he could come up with. He was a voracious reader and had tons of information about any subject under the sun. I was nowhere close to him in this aspect.

But still he was my lovable friend, philosopher and guide and gave some valuable advice regarding life in his own cool style without imposing his opinions on me.
Now after his death, various people come up to me and chat with me about my father, recall incidents about him, narrate how great a man he was, how generous he was etc. I get to know more about him than he was alive .

I learnt about my father's struggle as a young boy when both his parents passed away in quick succession and he had 5 younger siblings to take care of. The kids did not have anything to call their own, as they had sold everything to take care of their ailing mother. My father, who was just 15, with his 5 younger siblings (youngest one being 3 years old), had to take refuge in his grandmother's  house. He had to walk miles everyday after school to take tuitions to meet his expenses for education. Despite not having even two full meals per day, he was outstanding is his school and later on, in college.  He worked as a lab demonstrator earning a paltry sum and could not continue his higher education. But he managed to answer a difficult chemical quiz in an international science journal and the professor from Germany who posted the quiz was impressed by my father's knowledge that my father was invited to Germany to do his higher studies free of cost.

Recently , I came to know that my father has done his research work under Dr. Heisenberg, the Nobel laureate from Germany who is considered as God of quantum physics. In fact, my father, it seems , was the only Asian to have worked under him. I never knew this fact or the topic of his research and I never even asked my father about his student life and his research work.
Its a lesson learnt that we actually do not know our parents or siblings so well though we feel we are close to them. we are all immersed in our day to day life and its chores that we fail to recognise or take time to share the trials and tribulations of our family members.
This post is a tribute to the greatest soul in my life who would have turned 80 this week if he had been alive and also a post to say sorry to his soul for failing to understand his greatness!

Nature is giving it back!

As an Indian citizen , it pains to see people having total disregard to nature.  In a city of millions like Mumbai, its a tough ask for the state government to pull up people who abuse nature or treat mother earth with total disrespect. For me personally, it is appalling to see people spitting, urinating and throwing garbage at will at public places. Public toilets are badly maintained and overcrowded. There are never enough trash cans at public places and the few that are there are overflowing with garbage. There is no proper system for garbage disposal and the city totally stinks during the monsoon.
I am scared to step out of my house during monsoon for the fear of catching some infection walking around in the overflowing sewage water. (My earlier blog post on the same topic"Moaning in the Monsoon" dated 13/07/2009 ). This week , Mumbai sea was giving it back to the city. Usually there are warnings about high tide before the monsoon. Despite the warnings, people throng to the beaches to witness the high tide. This time, high tides were fun to watch till they hit the bystanders. It showered them with all the garbage they had been throwing into the sea for years no end. When I saw the pictures in the newspaper next morning, I was literally clapping my hands and even wanted to give a pat on the back of mother nature. There is only so much one can take and I think, its time we repent our doings and face the wrath of nature. But its also scary to think what else we would be facing in the future due to nature's fury.

This is how the very famous, supposedly beautiful Marine drive looked after a high tide episode this monsoon. Hope Maharashtra tourism board add this to their places of attraction during monsoon!.

IPL, the circus or tamasha!

My interest in the gentleman's game over the years has been directly proportional to the matches in which my favourite players (read handsome players!) played. With the IPL fever at its peak during summer for the past 7 seasons, I watch the matches in patches (oh, my writing skills have improved, what with rhyming words.....watch, match and patch in the same sentence!) when my favorite team CSK (chennai Super kings....as the name suggests my hometown team) plays.
Despite hearing a lot of superlatives about watching a match live in the stadium, I have never had the opportunity or inclination to go watch one in the stadium. Five days long test matches and 50 over one day internationals were so boring and long that I was never tempted to waste my whole day watching the game live and commuting back from the stadium late night was another issue. But recently, my husband got tickets for an IPL match in which my favorite team CSK was playing against the local lions from Mumbai. After a long thought about how long we can watch the match and ideal time to return home , dinner arrangements etc, we both decided to go and watch the match live. What an experience it turned out to be!
The carnival called IPL could be experienced right from the time we alighted the train at the station that was close to the stadium. There were small time vendors who were selling the team flags, t-shirts and even team coloured wigs and they were doing brisk business. I could see lot of young girls and guys busy munching and drinking whatever they could before entering the stadium because carrying your own food or even water bottles were banned inside the stadium.
Once inside the stadium, I was behaving like a kid lost in a village mela. the stadium was jam packed, loud speakers were blaring the latest bollywood music, cheer girls were dancing with a pasted smile and media men were busy setting up their screens and cameras. There was too much going on at the same time to observe everything. In fact amidst all the noise I even failed to notice that the match had started and the deafening noise after each boundary or six that was hit or a wicket that fell made me feel dizzy. Sultry , sweaty atmosphere with no water to quench the summer thirst made me feel nauseated and even the fact that CSK was playing well didn't cheer me up. I just wanted to get back home away from the noisy and stuffy stadium.
Hubby dearest who was enjoying every bit of the match (in other words, the small jigs from the cheer girls!) had to grudgingly come out of the stadium half way through the match because of me. The breath of fresh air and the sea breeze outside was in stark contrast to what I experienced inside.

I am sure no amount of cajoling or temptation in the future is going to drive me to watch a match in the stadium. I would rather watch it in my comfortable cool living room with loads of goodies at hand and enjoy the TV commentaries than the loud bollywood music or artificially enthusiastic jigs of cheer girls!

Chithi

Among all the roles that I have to play as part of a huge family, most favorite one is the role of chithi (tamil term for aunt, mother's younger sister). I am the fourth daughter in law in my husband's family and hence called chithi by all the kids in the family. On my maternal side too, being the younger daughter, I am the chithi to my sister's kids. . My nieces and nephews open up to me and consider me to be their pal and we have a good time, joking, laughing and sharing anecdotes.
Chithis being the younger daughters of the family share a special bond with their sister's children as they are first kids they get to handle even before marriage and having their own kids. This definitely makes the bonding special and a lasting one too.
I shared the same warmth and comfort with my own chithi. As a college student, I used to run to her place , spend time, eat all the delicacies prepared by her and generally have a very rejuvenating breaks from my routine. I could discuss matters with her which I wouldn't discuss with an elder otherwise. she was a very dependable soul-mate. There was never any hesitation to talk about any topic under the sun nor any awkwardness in her presence. I would even find faults with her beliefs and practices and she would take it in her stride. After years of my marriage, my chithi stayed with me for over two weeks and we had a great time, it was like having my best friend with me. she cooked my favorite recipes and we chatted 24x7. I would count those days as one of the best in my life.
She passed away this week after brief illness but her memories and the best times we shared would stay eternal. The best tribute to her would be to be the best chithi to my nieces and nephews. I am sure all the chithis who share special bonds with their elder sister's children would agree with this topic and share my sentiment.

Election campaigns

Thinking of my mother in law who passed away a few months back at the ripe old age of 85 and my late father  during these days of election campaigns. Why particularly now am I reminded of them?  

My mother in law was a very soft-spoken and kind soul who did as many chores as possible whenever she was around. She took turns to stay with her five sons and had to adjust living with five different women as her daughters in law. Her favourite quote was that its easy to adjust with one mother in law for us than she adjusting to five daughters in law. Though my mother in law wanted to be active within the limitations of her physical strength, her sons , daughters and daughters in law were quick to remind her that she is getting older and she must take rest and enjoy life and not bother herself with the regular chores. Though all this was said because of the affection we all had for her, in the long run, I personally felt that not allowing the elders in the family to actively do what they want is in a way inhibiting their freedom and cutting down their satisfaction that they are doing something purposeful.  It was the same case with my father. He wanted to be active till his very last day, wanted to write books, go around the town to meet his friends (despite being a amputee) , wanted to start his own business venture even past his 70s and we were quick to reprimand him for these and remind him that he was old and not fit enough to do all he desired for.

This sentiment about not allowing the elders to do what they like the most without reminding them that they are older is proven wrong when we observe the recent election campaigns in India . There was this interesting piece of news in the papers that most of the party leaders who were actively campaigning for their parties were mostly septuagenarians or octogenarians (Karunanidhi of DMK is 90, being the oldest of the lot) . I am sure their family members too are a worried lot who think why should their father or uncle tour around the country so much at this ripe old age? But, I am sure these aged leaders enjoy their active lifestyle so much that they would not want to miss the opportunity to be useful to their respective parties. They are the shining examples to prove that age is just a number and its the mind that matters. But as an ordinary citizen would I allow my aged mother to do something on her own and give her the freedom to enjoy her time without being unduly worried whether she would fall sick doing some chore or without feeling irritated that she need not do a particular chore at that age? I am not so sure about myself! But giving the freedom to the aged is a valuable lesson this election campaign has taught me. 

Summer vacations

We are already making plans for summer vacation trips. Till about a couple of years ago, we were making the mandatory annual vacation trip to chennai from Mumbai without a second thought. But for the past two years we realize that children have grown up and they no longer have company to enjoy the vacation when we go hopping from one relative's house to the other in the sweltering heat of chennai. All the kids in the family have grown up and each one is busy with their own summer plans. Its no longer a family get together that was a few years back.  I also pity the children of this generation who are pushed by parents to attend various summer camps and endless list of classes. I am reminded of my own childhood where summer vacations started the day we finished our exams and were packed off to our native village.

All the cousins used to come to our village in summer, and what a great time we used to have! Early mornings were equivalent to summer classes when we had to learn cycling and swimming from our uncles and cousins who were already experts in them. In fact, I used to be scared of the swimming classes because it was not a typical pool like those in the cities where we could learn swimming. We were pushed into the wells in the farm lands to learn swimming. These wells had no walls and were  huge in circumference at the ground level. Beginners had to climb down the stone steps inside the well and had to jump into the water with just a rubber tyre around the waist. With passing days, the level we had to jump from the stone steps was increased and the final class was to jump into the well from the ground level without entering the well through stone steps. Although it was scary we enjoyed it thoroughly. After the strenuous sessions of swimming, we were treated to fresh mangoes and huge glasses of sugar cane juice right in the fields. It was bliss and after an hours trekking back from the fields to home we used to feel so tired and hungry that even ordinary regular fare during lunch used to taste heavenly. Then afternoons were the time to play chess (boards engraved on the floor) and five stones (a game typical for girls where we had to throw five stones up in the air and catch them in various patterns). Evenings were for theatre activities. Couple of cousins used to become script writers (not that they wrote great plays), couple of others were make up artists (read as experts in using kajal to create moustach)  and all the senior cousins were part of the cast. Juniors, despite showing their unhappiness about not being select for the main cast were in charge of managing the audience ( a handful of neighbourhood kids) and creating music and background score with kitchen utensils. Initial few days used to be spent in writing scripts (which was changed every day and every hour depending on how the script writer got along with his/her cousins, whether everybody agreed to the script) and practising the lines and last couple of days used to be dress rehersal (wrapping around old sarees and dhotis of elders used to generate so much laughter among the kids). Most of the times , the final play would not be enacted since the main cast would have already gone back after their vacation. Though it used to be disappointing for the rest of the kids, it never bothered them when the play was planned the subsequent year.
Come to think of this generation, I feel sorry for the kids who never experience such creativity and enjoy vacations in sync with the nature.

Kolkatta Kali temple

Recently, I made my second trip to the city of joy, Kolkatta.This time it was a sight seeing trip combined with the purpose of visiting my daughter. I was very much keen to see Belur Mutt and the famous Kolkatta Kali temple. I studied in a Ramakrishna Mission school and always was inspired by Ramakrishna and Vivekanada's teachings. Hence the visit to Belur Ramakrishna Mutt was very special. Like all Mutt premises in other parts of the country, Belur was so peaceful and beautiful. 
Kolkatta as a city was stark in its dusty and dirty roads and buses, abject poverty was evident in every nook and corner of the city. It was a common sight to see groups of people washing and bathing in open at the corners of even busy roads.  I thought, Mumbai , despite its staggering slum population has an air of affluence which is lacking in Kolkatta.
My expectations about the most famous Kali temple at Kali Ghat in Kolkatta was high after hearing about the aura and power of Kali narrated by her devotees. My cousin, with who I stayed, was luckily staying close to the Kali temple. She suggested that we visit the temple late night as the crowd would be minimal at that time and we can have a hassle-free darshan. I had been warned of pandas (beggars living in the temple) who can extract money, grab your purse at the Kali temple.  So it was a good suggestion to visit the temple late night.
I was imagining a smooth passage to the sanctum sanctorum and a nice, peaceful darshan at that time. But I was surprised to see quite a crowd at the temple even at that time. There was no proper approach or line to the sanctum sanctorum. there were dogs roaming around and beggars all along the way and to top it all, the sanctum sanctorum itself was so crowded, people were entering and moving out at their will and the entire area was dirty, filled with water and slush , with dried flowers, food and all other muck. I just could not experience any divinity with so much to be careful about before actually having proper darshan. Within seconds , even before we could realize we were close to Kali Mata we were smeared with tilak and money was grabbed from our hands by the pandit and we were pushed out. I was wondering where was the aura or divine shakthi of Kali which I was supposed to experience? Did I miss it because I was more worried about my mother who could slip and fall in that slush? or was it because I am not yet spiritual enough to ignore the surrounding and just concentrate on the divine power of the Kali mata? Whatever be the reason, visit to the much awaited Kali temple turned out to be a damp squib. 
I might sound very unspiritual to those believe in the divine power of Kali, but for me, peace and divinity can be experienced better in temples like tiruvannaikaval Jambukeshwarar temple or nagarajaswamy temple in Nagercoil in Tamil Nadu, where the premises are very clean, crowd is minimal on ordinary days and the mandaps are huge and you are allowed to sit there for hours just enjoying the nature and the fresh smell of jasmine flowers and incense sticks. 

 Images of Kali temple and Kali Mata

 View of Belur Ramakrishna Mutt

With this visit to Kali temple, at least I realize, its going to take a while for me to feel spiritual and experience divine peace in a temple despite its disorderliness and muck.

Friends or executives?

I  have been blessed with good set of friends whether be it from school, college or language courses. I have been in touch with my close group of friends all through the years. I am also proud of the fact that some of them are really down to earth and remain the same and never flaunt their success in careers or boast about their achievements in life. Our core behaviour remains the same and we are able to chat about anything and everything without inhibitions.
Perhaps, this behaviour of my close friends also has made me taken them for granted, which I recently realized.  When I meet my friends we just chat about our families, children and general problems we face and hardly discuss the careers. I recently changed my mobile handset and realized a bit late that some of my contact numbers were not transferred from the old phone. I had lost the phone numbers of quite a few friends. But I thought, with google, facebook and other social media that are available its not going to be difficult to trace them. But there was this particular friend who held a high position in a mnc and was not active on social networks. So I had to google her name to find out her contact number. Only then did I realize that she was actually a very busy executive and a very successful woman giving lectures and presenting papers in international conventions. But never once during our meetings has she behaved like one who was so successful. I used to call her anytime I felt like talking to her and she always was there for me. Never did it cross my mind that she could actually be in the midst of a high level meeting or attending a conference in some other part of the world.
It feels great to have such friends who have not allowed success to go to their heads. After this googling experience, I have started valuing such friendships even better than before.

Twin blows!

Although he was ailing, losing my father was a big blow.  Of course with time, we went back into the routine and as the pain of losing him started becoming lesser, our family had to face the second blow within a few months. My brother passed away and it was totally unexpected and came out of the blue. In times of grief, we turn towards the Almighty and ask him several questions. My foremost one was why our family was the chosen one to face such huge deathly blows within a short span of time. Though my mother, who was the most affected in the family, took it in her stride, this nagging question of why us never left me for quite a few years.

Then I slowly realized that we were not the only ones to go through such twin blows. If we look around and observe, there are lot of families who face such twin or even triple blows within a very short period. Its just that we are too immersed in our own sorrows that we don't notice others who endure more. Recently my husband's uncle who was close to the family passed away after suffering from throat cancer. Just when we thought the family had endured the worst and wished that the near ones face better times, comes the news that my aunt, his wife is suffering from breast cancer. Their children, all of them daughters,  are just in their late twenties and early thirties and are involved in setting up their own families and its sad that they have to handle such a crisis immediately after facing their father's agonizing death.  I am sure that "why us" question would be nagging them too.

With all these philosophical thoughts about twin blows and chosen ones theory, I also realize that we never appreciate when we have  success stories or double happy events which happen in quick succession in our family and never question God about why we were the chosen ones to experience such pleasures. There are millions of people in the world who suffer more than we do and just a trip to the local hospital could be a great eye opener as to how blessed we are to  lead the lives we are blessed with. 

A journey to remember

Positive side of being a freelancer and housewife is that I need not commute in peak hour traffic in a congested city like Mumbai . I always thank my stars for being in a stay at home profession every time I travelled in a public transport. Till now, I made sure that I travelled long distances only in mid afternoons when the crowds in buses or trains are manageable. Even travelling by a car can be hassling , especially during peak hours when the traffic jams seem to be endless. My sympathies always lie with women who have to manage all the chores at home and then rush to the offices and  are also harassed in the trains and buses.

But recently, in fact, for the first time in my eight year stay at Mumbai, I travelled by train in peak office hour.It was indeed an interesting experience and I realized women were actually enjoying their journey . The women's compartment in Mumbai local trains is a scene of bustling activity and interesting too to watch how women utilize their journey time. There were women and girls of different age groups involved in various activities. College girls were busy texting their friends and taking out their make-up kit from their bags and busy combing their hair, applying a dab of lipstick or touching up their eyes. Middle aged women were happy catching up with the previous days happenings with their friends while munching and sharing their breakfast. There was a group of old age women who looked like vegetable vendors who sat on the floor of the train in a big circle and were busy sharing business secrets along with their quick bite of vada-pav.
Best thing about the entire compartment was that I didn't see a single unhappy or harassed face despite rushing from home, travelling in a congested train and having a long day to toil. they were actually happy to see the faces of their friends who were sailing in the same life boat and I could realize that this journey time was the best time of their hard days and they all looked forward to it.
By the time my station arrived I even went through a pang of jealousy that I didn't have such a good circle of friends who I could meet every day and share my thoughts and food at the same time.  It was an eye-opening journey for me with regard to the life of women in this city.

Just a click away?

During my childhood my house always used to be bustling with people. We were a large family of four children and there were always a couple of cousins from the native village who stayed in our house for their education. There were lots of friends and relatives who visited us and some of them even used to come to chennai, with our house as the boarding place. It was fun and we enjoyed spending time and chatting with loads of relatives. The house was small, but we still managed to have a great time within the limited space. Now we live in better houses but there are hardly friends or relatives who visit us. Even if they do so, it is just for a couple of hours and they think twice about staying with us and doubt the facilities at home and prefer to stay in hotels and make a flying visit. With active social media, now we are in touch with almost everyone who we never met for years. Though its an advantage of the social media, the downside is that we never take the effort to meet someone in person and spend time. we are happy just clicking the like button and relax that we are in touch with the near and dear ones.
Last week our neighborhood uncle who was very active despite his age died. I remembered him as one who used to sit with the watchmen downstairs and chat with them at particular times of the day. He loved spending the time with them as both his son and daughter in law were working and obviously, was feeling lonely at home. I used to wonder whether anybody in  the family or friends circle even bothered how he was doing while staying alone throughout the day. Personally, it came as a shock to realize that this uncle passed away as I had seen him just a few days back happily chatting with the watchmen. During the death ceremonies, there were a huge number of people who turned up and shared their memories about the uncle. But secretly I wondered whether these people ever managed to give him a call when he was alive and even bothered to check out whether he was doing fine.
This is the fate of the older generation today, they are left alone and the younger generation is happy connecting with a distant cousin or long last friend over social media than care to give a call or visit an ageing uncle or aunty or for that matter, even their own parents living away. I realize with pain that my days of loneliness are not too far away.

Back to the past?

  There is a special section in our newspaper which prints the events that happened on the same date 50 years back. It gives interesting insights into the life and events and reporting style of that era. Recently they had published a photograph in this column where it showed a picture of a bandh protest in Kolkatta in 1964 and the crowd that was waiting to get into the train at Howrah station. Until now , I had the impression that the evergrowing population of India is making life very difficult for the present generation and it would have been better if we were living in a peaceful, manageable population of 1960s and 1970s. But this picture changed my perception. Howrah station of 1964 doesn't look better than a church gate station (Mumbai) in 2014.
Especially, in the past 5-6 years, airports in India are worse than the railway stations and in fact , when you stand at the gate to board your shuttle bus, its more like a moffussil bus stand where the conductor screams his heart out calling our for passengers travelling to small towns. Literally,

at the airport, they call out for passengers travelling to different cities. It sounds funny . In fact, after my first trip abroad in the 80's I was treated like a queen in my friends circle, as I was the only one who had boarded an aircraft among them, now even a new born makes its first trip only by flight.

The discussion with my friend was about this population and commuting problems and after seeing the  60's image in the newspaper , I told her that the situation was worse then too. But then she had an interesting take on the whole problem and she said, maybe it will become better in the future because, now even people in villages and small towns are aware of the benefits of having a small family and restrict themselves to having just one child or two children and situation would only become better as the population would dwindle and more people are settled abroad. I don't know whether its a correct observation but if the situation remains the same, in the future, our children can never board a bus, train or for that matter, even a flight on time.

Mind your language!

We had a small get together at a friend's place who we were meeting after a long time. The children were meeting each other after a long time and as usual were caught up with discussing their routines, pushy parents and of course, the teachers and their quirky manners. I was listening to their conversation with interest and happen to notice their jokes about  their teachers English pronunciations.  Though it was quite funny and they were right about their teachers speaking horrible English with wrong pronunciations and wrong grammar, I thought I myself was not great in these departments of the language. Reason being that I studied in a government aided school and then in a government college where teachers and students were from middle class or lower middle class backgrounds. Our English was not great and our confidence was low. We were scared to try talking in English for the fear of being teased by others.

I vividly remember the instance when a girl who had studied in an English convent earlier, joined our class when we were in 8th std.  She carried herself with great confidence and naturally her English was far better than ours and we all were in awe of her. In fact, she became our automatic choice to represent us for any matter we had to discuss with the teachers.Such was the power of the foreign language and mastery over it. To expect a government school kid to master a foreign language that is being learnt from a non-native speaker and have impeccable pronounciation is next to impossible. It might be easier when children study in international schools. But why do we have this mindset that speaking a language with perfect pronunciation (even pronouncing this word is difficult for a non-native speaker) is equal to great knowledge in the language?All of us have come across people who speak the language with bad pronounciation but have profound knowledge in its literature and those who have great pronounciation but know nothing about its literature or do not appreciate its beauty.
My father himself was a great example of a man who had terrific knowledge in various languages like English, German, Sanskrit, Hindi and Tamil, was very well versed in all the languages, spoke them perfectly albeit with an indianized pronounciation. But never was he looked down by native speakers who appreciated his vast knowledge. Actually foreigners feel happy when we speak their language despite our bad pronunciations. It gives us the same pleasure when a foreigner speaks our mother tongue, it might not be perfect, but still we appreciate their effort and feel proud that they speak our language than looking at how perfect they are at it.
I think we should realize that all the Indian teachers who speak English
have not learnt it from native speakers to have impeccable pronunciation and its their knowledge that should matter.