purple pitara

Paying attention....

2012-01-10T13:31:00.002+05:30

Yesterday I spent a large part of my time in a meeting where I truly had no “real” role to play. A project with multiple stakeholders where I was done with my part. But the other stakeholders seemed to be in some deadlock and I was called in by one of them – why I am still not sure. As I tried to make sense of the agenda and implicit expectations, I felt that the only real reason i was there was because someone had a need to be listened to. When that listening was not happening with one of the stakeholders, he actually hoped I would do the part – so there i was. And I listened. I am not even sure how much that listening will help – but yes, I did what seemed to be the only thing to do.

While I was listening, the thing that struck me is how much of attention we pay to the stuff that does not work out as we hoped it would. The things that go wrong. The things that need to be “fixed”. Sadly, all this attention happens at the cost of paying attention to things that actually worked or are going right. Things, which if paid complete attention to, would certainly have the potential to fix the larger problem.

With all this in my mind, I stumbled upon this Ted Talk by Julia Bacha – amazing coincidence (as all coincidences are!). While she speaks about paying attention to non-violence in a larger global context, it got me thinking about what are some of the things that I pay attention to - as a friend, a mother, a wife, a professional, a citizen on the road. How many times do things that are going all wrong or not meeting my expectations or demanding more that I can give take up my mind space? People around me not living upto my expectations of them – it could be my family, my colleagues, my friends, the security at my gate or even the car driver on the road. And as I nurture all these incidents and experiences with my attention, I know it leaves that much less time for all the things that are truly wonderful, that energise me, that are working out even beyond my own expectations!

Also, inside of myself, what are some of the things I pay attention to? How many conversations have I had just in the last week bemoaning to everyone who cares to listen about my thyroid condition? Or how the noise levels at work are completely driving me up the wall! Or even highlighting how little time I spend on myself? Oh the time i spent delving on anger, disappointment, a sense of inadequacy. And at the asme time, how i miss paying attention to all the wonderful blessings, the things that are working just fine, the moments that give me energy, love, understanding and just pure joy!

The questions that I therefore ask of myself: can I spend a little more time telling the husband of all the thoughtful little things he does around the house rather than the things i feel he does not do? Or let the little one know how much I enjoy her humming to herself more than reminding her to speak softly to mamma! And reach out to commend that teacher sitting in the sandpit fully present to the child instead of complaining of the noise during playtime? Also loving my body more for all the times it wakes up feeling energised, healthy and hopeful instead of feeling frustrated about why it won’t fit into those jeans I bought last year! Finally paying less attention to moments I feel small or inadequate to the times I feel more whole and complete and filled with life!

And I know this to be true - when I pay attention to all these within myself, and when I highlight these in my relationships and other spaces, it will automatically put the things that seem all wrong in the right perspective!

A gift from a stranger

2011-01-25T08:20:00.003+05:30

Bird of Paradise - that's what this exotic flower is called.

I didn't know this till a got a call from a stranger some 10 years back on valentine day's eve. Just having moved to Bangalore, I was helping ma-in-law manage her gifting business since the orders seem to be pouring in that day.

So this stranger asked me if i knew what a bird of paradise was. My response - sir we deliver only flowers, not pets (!!). He patiently explained that he as indeed asking for a flower. I said I could check with my florist (and discovered that he was right after all!)

Anyway, the order i finally got from this gentleman - two birds of paradise - one big for his wife and one small one for his 2 year old daughter. (Well, we didn't get two flowers of different sizes so we just ended up trimming the stalk for the little one)

Since then, every time i see this flower - it reminds me about this stranger - a loving husband, a thoughtful father - and that brings a smile to me! It's amazing how random strangers can touch our lives without ever knowing it.....

On vulnerability

2011-01-17T11:07:00.001+05:30

An inspiring talk by Brene Brown on the power of vulnerability - that also inspired me to break the shell and re-start blogging :). hope my friends and family enjoys it as much as I did:

http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

Difficult Choices!

2011-01-17T10:55:00.003+05:30

I know this is a rather old incident - and I have shared it with some of my friends, but still want to put it here, lest I forget. And as it has always been, an interesting way of looking at life through the wisdom of a now 6 year old!

Nia: mamma, who do you like more - pappa or me?

me: well i like both of you as much nia - just in different ways.

nia: yeah mamma, i can understand it can be really difficult choosing. Even pappa has a tough time choosing when I ask him

me: oh - when you ask him who he likes more - you or me? (tho' for me it's rather obvious I must say!!!)

nia: no no mamma, when i ask him: what do you like more pappa- cheese or peanut butter!

Ah well, difficult choices indeed and how the child perceives it!!!

2011 - Here I come!

2011-01-17T10:35:00.004+05:30

wooo hoooo - a long hiatus from blogging. have missed it more than my fan following (read family) might have missed my random musings! So decided to get back to it in the new year - hopefully a bit more regularly. Though it's been a while that the new year began, I wanted my first blog to be about things I am grateful for in the year that went by:

- time with my family living far far away and connecting in different ways
- seeing my relationship with the not-so-little one change and still enjoying every minute with her
- discovering the excitement and skill in cooking
- experimenting with new way of working with kids and seeing it work in small ways
- connecting with some of my women friends with whom i was missing some 'we' time
- connecting with myself in more intimate ways
- finding a dream home
- making peace with some of the relationships that I value but didn't seem to work well
- actually getting a home loan despite the odds
- putting on weight over the year and actually being ok about it
- finally finally getting the name change in my PAN card!
- seeing some shifts and miracles at work
- confronting some old fears and taking tiny tiny steps in making peace with them

A rather cryptic blog I can see - ah well- writing just for myself to begin with - a good start indeed!

Summer 2010 - Los Altos

2010-07-24T11:44:00.000+05:30

Chef in the Making

2010-05-29T04:48:00.003+05:30

Day 1 - Tentatively rolling rotis

Day 2 - Less tentatively rolling rotis

Day 3 - Making rotis end to end (mini-disaster)

Day 4 - Making rotis end to end (success!)

Day 5 - Experiment making theplas (not bad at all)

Day 5 - Super confidently making methi theplas (ho hum)

Day 6 - Making Peas parathas (yumm!)

What a week....wooooohooooo!

PS thanks to M-i-l and Tarla Dalal

Life's little lesson

2010-05-27T07:17:00.003+05:30

One of the things i did as a child was to make a wish on your fallen eyelash. And I taught this to my little daughter Nia when she was barely two. Simple magical act - carefully place the eyelash on the back of your hand, close your eyes, make a wish and blow away the eyelash. And you know your wish will come true if: one - you keep your wish a secret and two that the eyelash has to fly off!

Nia always believed in the magic and strangely she always ignored the conditions. When she newly learnt this wishing process, she would blow away the eyelash and immediately tell me what she had wished for ( i guess her way of ensuring that the wish came true!) So much for Condition #1.

As far as the second (and easier) condition goes - here's what i discovered her take was a few days earlier. Nia just finisher her bath and i found her eyelash stuck to her cheek. As i was placing the eyelash on the back of her wet hand, i told her "baby, wipe your hand dry else the eyelash won't fly off."

Her response? "mamma, good thing if it doesn't fly off - i can keep wishing till, it decides to!"

Thank you for this lesson - my little believer of magic :)

A Holiday with a Difference

2010-05-22T08:45:00.003+05:30

Summer break @ Magic Puddles and unlike all other summers, we haven't been able to plan a holiday back home to Bombay. So been hanging around in Bangalore partly planning for the next academic session and partly catching up on long-pending personal work. When this break started out, it wasn't a happy thought - not being able to take time off completely, still having to work during THE break of the year.

But a week down the line, i am quite enjoying this pace. Knowing that i don't have to rush through things. Being able to spend quality time with the folks at home and at the same time being able to attend to work. Meeting friends in the middle of the week. Finally learning to make rotis (total success) and experimenting with gujju cooking (total disaster!) Catching up on random movies being shown on TV. Reading up some cool stuff.

And the best part of the week has been the amount of introverted time i am able to create at different times of the day. This introverted time feels doubly special since life had been in a frenzy since the beginning of this year. So during these special times, i see myself taking the time to clarify things for myself. At times, stepping back and watching how i react in different situations. Thinking through my priorities. Connecting with a deep part within myself and in the process being able to connect better with people around me.

Best of all, i love seeing myself zealously guarding these moments of introverted time. I am so looking forward to the next week where the break continues. And i hope to be able to continue creating it for myself even after i resume my routine work!

My Simple Truth

2010-05-08T06:09:00.004+05:30

Everyone needs or has a place where they can recharge their life energies, their soul - or so i read in several feel-good articles (which for some weird reason are directed only towards female readers). And many of these articles will have a few suggestions for seeking souls like me about where you could find this place. I always romanticized that for me the special place would be at a friend's dinning table (desperately borrowed from one of the lists i guess) but never did find that table. I pretty much had dismissed the idea that such a place can exist until....

...work took me back to this eco-farm in the outskirts of Bangalore managed by a trust. We'd taken children there for an overnight stay as part of the summer camp. And despite the energy and alertness required when out with a group of kids (and a sleepless night) as i left the place the next day, i felt totally energized. I naturally thought that it was this place that has the magic for me. It is packed with lovely memories of times that i have spent with friends. It's quiet and peaceful, air and water cleaner than what i get back in my city home and i feel blessed with the generosity of my friend who manages this place.

And then it struck me - it was not the place, but the sheer act of driving on relatively empty roads, away from my routine and then the quiet journey back (i returned ahead of the kids - so that explains the silence!). That's when it struck me, my special 'soul-place' is not a solid still place, but it is the movement. I get this same sense of peace in crowded buses and trains (so long as i get a window seat to myself). Whether i am doing the driving or not, I love the road - stretching ahead, winding. I love things going past as the vehicle moves - in some sense so transient and yet so stable! It amazes me to see how much land is available outside of our over-crowded cities. I feel overwhelmed by the the richness of colours, textures, smells and sounds around. Sometimes i am completely absorbed in my thinking and sometimes I step back and watch how i think. And in the fast moving, i am able to connect with a deep stillness inside of me.

Finally, it feels good to discover that my soul-place lies just outside the doorstep, waiting for me no matter where i am!

Colours of the World

2010-04-22T16:29:00.009+05:30

In the middle of yet another exciting summer camp with kids in Bangalore. Our theme for the first session is 'water world'. So in class today, i decide to tell them a story about a little duck called Davy who decides to follow the migrating swallows and has a little adventure on his own. Although he feels that he has crossed the ocean and the desert and the mountains and reached the warm plains, he actually has just gone a little distance away from his little pond in the woods. The story ends with him getting saved from being devoured by a cat just in time by his mommy who had come looking for him.

At the end of the story, we decided to colour a picture of mamma and baby duck swimming happily in the pond. We have a few common 3-4 sets of crayons that is shared by the batch. Before i could say, alright let's begin, there was this wild scramble for the yellow crayon. EVERYONE wanted to colour the baby and mamma duck yellow. Now i for one have never seen a yellow duck (except of course Davy in the story!)

So here's what was the perfectly coloured picture of a duck for the kids:

(Obviously by the kid who managed to actually find the yellow crayon in the box!)

Not wanting to miss this learning opportunity, i got the children to talk about different birds that they might have seen and how all birds are differently coloured. We then talked about ducks. Just the previous day, some kids had got a duck picture for their show & tell and we discussed how there actually could b different colours on the duck. And post this little talk, besides stopping the fight for the evasive yellow crayon, here's what i got:

Quite happy with the results, i started to get the kids to close the activity, put things back in place and get ready for home, when little Aditi walks upto me and says, 'vijji, i think the baby duck's got to be yellow....but who says the water HAS TO BE blue??" And here's what her picture looked like:

Well, actually when was the last time i saw blue water anyway?!!

Oh so NOT fair!

2010-04-15T06:22:00.004+05:30

Wednesday evening and Nia is all set to do some art project with me or just curl up and listen to a story, but mamma has something else in mind:

me: nia not tonight, pappa and me are going for a movie

nia: that's not fair
(seems like a standard response to everything i say or do these days - how come nobody warns us unsuspecting parents about fiery fives after terrible twos??)

me: sorry nia but you just have to read to yourself tonight

nia: from my birth till now (not a very long time we are talking about here - but for the little one, that's when civilization began!), we have gone to see only 2 movies together

me: no nia - 6

nia: ok mamma, 5 and that is final. and the number of movies that you and pappa go, even if i use all my fingers and aaaaaaaallllllllll my toes, i won't be able to count

me: nia its not my fault that they make fewer movies for kids and more movies for adults

nia: (with the most grieved expression on her face) how come EVERYTHING in this world is on the side of adults only????

Well, it's tough being a child!

A lazy Sunday afternoon....

2010-04-12T17:09:00.004+05:30

................may not be so welcome after all is what i discovered yesterday as i experienced a real hot day in the otherwise-bearable weather of Bangalore. I did everything to cope with the heat – loads of fluids, sleeping on the floor, trying to immerse myself into Steig Larson’s novel, spending time in an air conditioned book store followed by coffee shop and even swimming late night. None of this helped in taking my mind off the sweltering heat.

The irritation continued Monday morning and i was all grouchy complaining about the heat. The husband, his usual optimistic self said don’t worry it will rain (yeah right!)

And now as i sit by my office window, late afternoon, there’s a wonderful wind blowing and the sky is cloudy. The air is rich with the promise of evening showers. And i am in love with Bangalore all over again! Rain or no rain – its getting cool already, its time to enjoy my evening cup of tea and say a prayer of thanks to mamma nature. And hope that this benevolence continues!

There is something so magical about rains! Growing up in Bombay, rain always made its presence felt in our life. Through the school years, heavy rains meant a holiday because area around the school would get flooded. In college, rains were a huge feel good factor, there was either the promise of romance or just (equally nice) casual walking in the rain followed with ek cutting chai. When i started to work, heavy rains meant a few anxious evenings wondering whether the trains would still ply and yet it was as magical as the city got washed with unexpected thunder showers.

Now rains mean happy moments with the little one all excited about her rain dance.

Or just sitting with the husband revisiting memories of that long walk in the rain that changed our lives.

At times, lazily chatting with a friend, enjoying some hot chocolate and pakodas.

Taking shelter in the little tapri by the road side hoping the vehicles whizzing past don’t splash the muck around

Walking along splashing in the puddles.

Or standing by the road side seeing the Jacaranda blooms float by.

Maybe just sitting alone breathing in the bheeni mitti humming some of gulzaar’s work......

.....So what do the rains mean to you – do share with me!

A Happy Republic Day

2010-01-27T10:35:00.010+05:30

Of late, i'm trying hard to do things with Nia more than singing and reading and in that enthusiasm, we landed at Lalbagh on 26th morning. Initially i wasn't sure if it was such a great idea - given that half of Bangalore (and that means a LOT of people) were there to check out the Annual Flower Show. But then we had good company - each other plus another equally enthusiastic family with their kids - so all in all it seemed like a fun thing to do.

As we walked in, we first passed the horticultural show and it was quite a treat to see vegetables still on the plants - a sight quite rare to the kids as well as the adults!Then there was this terribly crowded flower show we decided to walk thru - big big mistake.

Finally we settled under a tree to enjoy the picnic lunch. The children played around, climbed trees and tried finding secret spots to enjoy the picnic treats. The grownups chatted some, tried to play with the kids (but were boycotted because we were better!) and just lay back enjoying the weather.

I think for me the most wonderful thing was just being out in the open. I got such a feeling of abundance and warmth from the expanse. Despite the crowds of people visiting the flower show and though our spot was close to the exhibition area, not even once did I get the feeling of being in a crowded space. It’s amazing how open spaces absorb crowds, smells, noises, everything making you feel that no matter what is around you – there is a spot on earth reserved specially for you. I guess this is the point where I need to dwell on how we are screwing up the planet, but I think I’ll let that pass. I choose now to just soak in this blessing that the unforgiving Earth bestows upon all of us – a blessing of being held, being taken care of. A blessing I could connect with on that warm winter picnic morning.

…….I should do more of this with Nia.

And yes, I am inspired to set up my own vegetable garden in my house.

Run woman run.......

2010-01-21T07:16:00.011+05:30

One of the things i have discovered last year is how happy self-paced exercise makes me feel. For the longest time it was swimming and though i absolutely love my time in the pool, it needs a major push to get there specially on winter mornings. Both my brother and sister had given running a serious try and i was quite keen to give it a shot myself. But I had this knee injury several years back and even until recently, the knee would hurt on days when i am up on my feet for a long time. So i was quite worried about taking on running thanks to all that stuff about how running is bad for the knees. Then my brother-in-law allayed all those fears by starting to run post a knee surgery (yeah there's a whole bunch of self-taught fitness gurus in the family!) Inspired by this i finally decided to give it a shot myself.

For once, instead of simply getting on with it, i decided to read up a li'l bit. And was surprised to see a whole world out there feeling oh-so-passionate about running. In fact too much if you ask me.The net research totally started to get to me until i discovered this wonderful C25k plan that made the start very doable.

So out came the old sneakers (didn't want to invest in good running shoes till i was absolutely certain that i would pursue it long term!). When my sister heard about my new found love, she sent this link on proper running form that really helped in ensuring that i had the basics right.

So started my gradually building stamina, increasing the amount of time i can run from 90 seconds to 20 minutes covering around 4 kms comfortably. It's been quite a fulfilling journey and though i am far from ever being able to do even a half-marathon, it's quite an experience to be doing this for myself.

Here's my own running tips:
- The 'run-every-alternate-day' is pretty much a golden rule i follow. every time i tried running on consecutive days, i feel the fatigue.
- The stretches post-run are an absolute must. specially the ones for my ankles and calf muscles. Thanks to those stretches, i've rarely felt sore after a run. And the knees never hurt either.
- Having a fixed route whose length i know helps me keep track of my own progress . But better still has been changing the route atleast once a month. I got a chance to run by a lake early December and that was great in keeping my motivation up! Even if it means having to travel a distance to get to a new route, it is totally worth it - specially if the route is a natural one.
- For women running in Bangalore, there's this great group called RGI you can get in touch with. They are a bunch of super-enthu women who say they run for fun - just the support you would need when you start to run yourself. I attended their first 5k-10k event and it was very well organized.

And finally, i've never really pushed myself. So running has been a more for-fun than a rigid fitness goal for me. It is for me a quiet 'me-time' in the mornings with my music and great Bangalore morning weather!

PS i did get myself a great pair of running shoes :)

Chef in the making

2010-01-16T09:58:00.000+05:30

This Pongal got me to get into the kitchen offering to learn traditional dishes cooked for the festival. And to my surprise, it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be since ma-in-law was the master chef and me a mere assistant!. Also having me as a captive audience (an event rarer that the solar eclipse that followed), she also decided to pass on bits of cooking tips and tricks to me as I went about cooking under her watchful eye. Some of those tips were backed by the science behind cooking while some followed the mechanics of digestion. Some just seemed to me like traditional ways of doing something and some the omnipotent grandma’s secrets!

The most rewarding thing that morning for me was not that I’d finally cracked how to make vadas, aviyal, vella pachidi and sweet pongal, but that I actually enjoyed the whole process of putting a traditional meal together. I guess one was zero stress on how things would turn out. Also since everything is offered to the gods before we eat, tasting during preparation is forbidden. So there’s nothing much to do but put the ingredients together and allow the science of cooking to do its magic!

Ah the interplay of big-time science and subtle magic in action! You see it as vegetables change textures when you boil them and then again when the coconut paste is added. Or the aromas transforming as the red pumpkin takes in the tamarind extract and jaggery syrup. Also soaked urud dal turn to a fine paste in the wet grinder (tip for all amateur cooks like me– replace your regular mixer-grinder with the wet grinder – its got way more character!). The changing of raisins as you sauté it in desi ghee. Simple hot water doing the trick to change the crisp vadas to soft dahi-ballas!

So after this really satisfying morning of cooking and festival celebrations, I seem to be changing my perspective towards cooking. Seems like I am going to be spending just a little more time in the kitchen maybe weaving my own magic! More on this to follow……

Life's little lesson

2009-12-05T05:35:00.003+05:30

Nia these days, is very upset about the fact that we insist that she eat all her meals by herself. She does not like the fact that she has to go to school everyday. She definitely hates the skating classes we have enrolled her into. Plus the fact that her free movement classes have ended. She finds it difficult to understand why her best friends do not live next door and that she gets to meet them only on weekends. And why her Oni ma and Maamu live in a different country with their families and not on the same street as her! Then there are the TV fights everyday. And serious negotiations around chocolate quota that most often do not end in her favour.

With all this happening, i find the soon-to-be-5 child lying on her bed in deep thought and ask her what she is thinking of. And she looks at me, still a bit pensive and says, 'vijji, i love my life!'

:)

At the mercy of Weather Gods

2009-11-10T06:40:00.006+05:30

A Saturday, mid-Dec, 2007 -
Event: Kindergarten Sports day @ Magic Puddles
Venue: Open Sports Ground
Weather conditions - its raining the previous day as we are getting the ground ready, putting tracks, shifting props.
Our reactions: Bangalore weather sucks (you don't get to hear this very often now, do you?).Can you imagine, rain at the offset of winter??? Should we postpone the event? No, that's really painful. Let's just go ahead.
Following actions: We got an overhead cover for the audience area and one in the middle of the ground for the kids. Someone says keep a picture of Lord Ganesha looking back to stop the rain(??) Strange one - but yeah lets do it!
On the D-day - the sun is shining nice and bright. After a few wisecracks with the audience about the weather, we are ready to begin the event. The sun gets really hot over the next two hours and we are happy to have the overhead cover. And we all whisper a prayer of gratitude to Lord Ganesha (Ganpati bappa morya!)Ah well, all in a day's work!

A Saturday, End-Nov, 2008 -
Event: Kindergarten Sports day @ Magic Puddles (a year later). Remember it rained last year in Dec, so lets finish off the event before December sets in
Venue: Open Sports Ground (again!)
Weather conditions - its been raining for the ENTIRE week :O! And weather forecasting websites are predicting thunderstorms on the D-day.
Our reactions: Bangalore weather sucks (ok, we've heard that one before!)Should we postpone the event? Definitely yes!
Following actions: Event pushed by a week (all 443 weather websites we are following say it'll be clear weather). And let's get an overhead cover for the entire area, just in case! Parents are unhappy with the change in date, endless phone calls and email exchanges. A lot of work to be re-done from our end as well. But we are not willing to take a chance.
On the original D-day - very light drizzle early hours of the morning and then clear weather. We imagine all the parents cursing us. Plus the skies refuse to clear through the week, so even until the following Friday, we are not sure how the weather will be on Saturday (obviously we've given up on weather forecasts and are now relying on Ganesha!). Thankfully weather is alright on Saturday. So with apologies for the event being pushed by a week and some more wisecracks about the weather, we pull of the event without a hitch. Ah well, all in a.....

A Saturday, first weekend of Nov, 2009 -
Event: Kindergarten Sports day @ Magic Puddles (yet another year later). Let's do the event as early as possible this year.
Venue: Open Sports Ground
Weather conditions - OH MY GOD, our neighbour chennai is close to flooding thanks to an unpredicted depression over the sea! And Bangalore is cloudy, raining only late nights. And thunderstorm predicted on the D-day.
Our reactions: Should we postpone the event? No way, it's way to painful, let's just go ahead!
Following actions: Everyone has fingers crossed as the shamiana is being erected on Friday evening. We all are ardently praying as we go to bed. Several of us checking the night skies through the night. Not a drop of water - what a relief!

oh oh! Spoke too early! Drizzle starts at 3:30 AM and eventually proper showers until 5:30 AM. Too late to push the event, let's just take it as it comes.

Ground wet - get extra mud, get the roller

Overhead cover leaking - get the buckets, drain the water

Chairs all wet - keep wiping them till guests arrive

Children's area wet - get water proof sheets under the mats

ok everything under control, except the drizzling that won't stop.

Until 8:30 AM - skies look clearer - phew!

And so we started our Sports Day last weekend. The kids had practised hard for the event, their teachers even harder. And the efforts showed. Parents loved seeing the little ones participate in the opening ceremony, the drill, the races. Everything is going fine until 11:00 AM - when uh oh - thick black clouds and it ACTUALLY starts to rain - right in the MIDDLE of the event - our worst fears confirmed!

And guess what, the skies didn't fall on our heads (atleast not literally!). Parents willingly adjust to avoid the leaking and continue to enjoy the event. We avoid all wet patches, and start the parent-child races. The audience loves it - through the rain and the dripping and the wet patches, we have parents and children having loads of fun!

Ah well, all in a day's work!

PS thank god we didnt postpone the event - its raining even as i write this blog three days later :)

Of Communities and Connections

2009-10-28T06:02:00.006+05:30

Of late, life has been looking quite action packed and meaningful. The best part has been sharing special moments of life with different communities.

First one being that of my good friends in Bangalore. We got together for Diwali - with different sets of people for the morning puja and then for the evening fun. As i did things one does for a festival as significant as Diwali, i could sense a different excitement and energy for just having to share it with a community that is beyond my immediate family. Right from the excitement of the early morning oil bath to playing with crackers, felt just so perfect! And i whispered a simple prayer of gratitude for this blessing in my life as i enjoyed the delicious dinner organized by one of my friends.

The second community that felt as special was that of strangers (baring a couple of friends i met there). 80 odd women gathered on a Sunday morning to participate in a 5 k - 10 k walk/run event organized by Runner Girls India. From the minute we got there early at 6:00 AM till the end of the event, it seemed like being connected with the same level of joy and energy. Maybe it was about being part of a 'one-of-a-kind' event or maybe just the sense of satisfaction of having giving oneself that opportunity, of being attentive to one's body. It was a great day for me - doing my part in a community like that one and i do look forward to many such wonderful mornings!

The third community - SPOT 2009 - an initiative of Bangalore Little Theatre - now that's an amazing one! People from different professional areas, at different stages of their life, all coming together for three months to train in theatre and ending with a production that is used as a fund raisign event for Dream-a-Dream. Its a space where i feel constantly challenged, a space where i need to constantly push my own limits of being, of thinking, of reacting. And in doing so, learn a little bit more about myself.

So when i think of these three communities, i feel blessed. These communities give me excitement & comfort, highs & lows, energy & fatigue, a space to be myself and explore more and in all these experiences, fall more in love with life.

Wacko Wisdom

2009-10-12T16:00:00.003+05:30

I seem to have taken a long break from blogging and have nothing of my own to write. As usual my time with nia throws up some interesting stuff for me to think about! So here comes:

nia: mamma, aunty keeps punishing maya and me in class because we talk too much.
me: and what's the punishment?
nia: she keeps sending us to the naughty corner. Today she put maya and me in different corners for a long time.
me: so what did u learn from that?
nia: sign language mamma!

and when her best friend maya is not around, the talking continues. We are in bed for an hour now, done with the stories and the singing and the sharing and yet nia refuses to sleep. Finally the tired me decides to bring in quiet time so atleast i can get some sleep.
me: so nia now its 10 minutes absolute quiet time for both of us - NOT A WORD!
nia: what are we supposed to do during quiet time?
me: i am going to read a book. you can do whatever you want so long as u are lying in bed and not talking.
20 minutes later, i glance at nia convinced that she is deep in sleep. but the little one is lying with her eyes wide open (and absolutely quiet for a change!)
me: hey nia, is the light distracting you
nia: no mamma, the quiet time is distracting me!

wacko wisdom from this little buddha of mine :)

I baked bread.....

2009-08-26T06:16:00.008+05:30

...from scratch!

I have always loved the art of baking. Not that i do much of it. But i feel there is something very satisfying AND humbling to spend effort blending a variety of ingredients together and then allowing a process to take over to create the end-product (that may or may not be close to what you had originally thought about). The only thing that i could manage in the oven until recently is vegetable au gratin...not that you can ever go wrong with it thanks to all the cheese and white sauce that can make anything seem like a gourmet dish!

Finally thanks to the experimentation of one friend and the enthusiasm of another, I decided to bake bread at home. And a super-healthy one at that! So in went the wheat flour, the jagery, the oil, the yeast. Lot of patient kneading. Garlic-onion-sun dried tomatoes flavouring for one set and methi-corn combination for the other. This followed by lot of patient waiting for the yeast to do its magic. Flustered by tons of questions - was it 15 minutes or 20? or do we wait 2 hours thanks to the cold weather? Is it rising enough? You think we didn't put enough yeast? Maybe we should wait another 10 mins? Or maybe not? aaaaaargh! (Thank god i was in this with another friend - couldn't have handled this agony of not knowing all by myself)

At last, ready for the final act. Out came the greased loaf tins, in went the dough into the oven. Some more patient waiting made worthwhile with the wonderful smell of bread wafting through.

20 minutes of anticipation and out came the hot bread. 30 minutes of more anticipation waiting for the loafs to cool down. And finally the moment that made all this labour worth the while - the cutting and tasting of bread....ah!

The final result - the crust nice and brown, the sides not too bad. Unfortunately the middle had bits of uncooked dough - not so soft and porous. So after hours of all that effort half-baked bread was what we savoured!

But hey who cares?! All that matters is I BAKED BREAD FROM SCRATCH! And i am all set to try it again :)

To a very special person on her very special day

2009-07-27T15:11:00.002+05:30

Her eyes are what come to mind when i think of her. Happy, shiny eyes when she flashes her dimpled smile; tired, puffy eyes as she works on her laptop. Passionate, steadfast eyes as she makes her point in discussions and unwavering,intense eyes as she listens to you making yours.

What i value most about her is the profound honesty she brings into every relationship in her life. (the very same honesty i find annoying at times when all i want to do is wallow in self pity but she won't allow me to!)

What i find touching about her is her calm dignity as she works to better herself in her personal and professional space.

I am inspired by her sustained efforts to go that extra mile - be it meeting challenges at work, or taking care of her health or her wanting to contribute to the world in ways that she finds meaningful. Her focus on her goals. Her unabashed confession about her levels of ambition. Seeing her ways of being, i am driven to fight my own self-limiting beliefs and be a better person.

I enjoy the way she has a way with words - be it when she is talking or writing.

I feel honoured when she appreciates something i do.

I celebrate the telepathic connection i have with her in ways that i don't have in other close relationships of mine.

I am astounded by her capacity to hold her pain and her struggles. And by the deep caring she holds underneath her practical, no-nonsense self.

It is so gratifying to see her extend all her love, her warmth, her caring to my daughter even as she lives across the seven seas! i am delighted to see glimpses of her in my little daughter - the way she persists in her point of view, the way she uses sound reasoning to help me get her point of view or simply in the way her eyebrows go up when she is intensely involved in a discussion!

But what i am most thankful for is that she is part of my world as my friend, my critic, my confidant, my sister.

As she celebrates her birthday today - here's wishing her a fabulous, blissful year ahead....dear oni - may you have many more sunny days, lesser meetings at work, healthier plants in your garden, shorter catan games, coordinated moves on the gym floor, long drives to newer places, fun-filled treks with good friends, and may all your deepest dreams come true this new year of your life! I love you :)

Loving my Body

2009-06-21T07:04:00.007+05:30

:) Today I am in love with my weighing scales because they showed me a number i am happy with and they give me hope for the future. After having been on a detox diet for one week, today is the day i celebrate! Not that i am anywhere near what my "ideal weight" is supposed to be, but there is this satisfied feeling of having spring-cleaned my insides and being healthier than what i was a week back :)

Feeling so upbeat this morning, it got me thinking how little attention was paid to our bodies as we grew up. In my own home, healthy eating was quite broadly tackled, exercise never encouraged. (When asked what my favourite vegetable at dinner time was - "egg" came the prompt reply!)School was even worse. Marching, throw ball and basketball was as sporty as one could get (the games we invented during the lunch break gave us far more stamina anyway!)

In the teen years, attention to body didn't go beyond the occasional pimple on the face. Thankfully we weren't so exposed to the fashion & beauty industry standards and never got into fad diets. But there was no concept of enjoying one's body. Bharatnatyam that i learnt was more a performance oriented thingy. First gym enrolment in early 20s happened again only to tackle weight issues.

I guess what i missed most in my early years was this thought that one's body is a gift to be thankful for, a creation to be nurtured, a treasure to be enjoyed.

Thankfully the Universe was benevolent and things have taken a turn in the past few years. First big eye opener was being in circle of women where we worked with connecting emotions with our body and healing from within. It was also where i learnt the moon meditation, a unique and simple way of connecting my body and her energies to the moon. A healing massage set chronic aches right and therein came my next eye opener. All through was an inspiring sister, who though took things to levels more extreme than my own comfort, was working on and talking about the right things. She also recently introdcued me to the dry brushing technique which i totally swear by. Next was the beginning to enjoy green tea. Weaved in somewhere were being with two immensely talented people - my pedicurist and my accupressurist. A couple of books i enjoyed reading were Skinny Bitch and You can Heal your Life. A short stint with Bollywood dancing (which my mind and body have totally blanked out!). Then - the best gift i gave myself - swimming lessons and thus started a never-ending love affair with the pool! And viola! me and my body now good friends (with HUGE fights occasionally but overall in a good relationship!)

So now as a mother, i am hoping to do the right things for my child. This summer was a lot of body focus. We did 'Body Talk' a fun workshop for children to express through their bodies, and then there was swimming. Two weeks back we enrolled into skating. Back at home, we dance a lot. And of course rough and tumble play precedes the story time ritual at bedtime.

All in all, my body is happy and (to quote Louise Hay) all's well with my world!

Rooting for the Underdog

2009-05-31T07:05:00.003+05:30

Little Nia is in a very good mood (having just realized that tomorrow is the last day of her swimming classes) and is celebrating by walking around the house singing "pappu can't dance". I, in one of the rare moments in the history of our household, am in the kitchen cooking (smileys - to keep up with the partying child!). In walks nia with a very puzzled look on her face, here's what follows:

nia: mamma, why didn't pappu come for the party?

me: he was there in the party nia

nia: then why are his friends saying he can't dance?

me: well what they mean is that is is not able to dance - that he is a bad dancer

nia: oooooh! they are teasing him? poor pappu!

me: Yup (and getting ready for the next question. but out walks nia continuing to sing the song)

3 mins later:

nia: mamma, they are also saying pappu guitar bajaata hai (pappu can play the guitar).

me: that's right baby

nia: (face all bright) ah! now when his friends tease him, pappu can sing - mere dost guitar nahi bajaa sakete saala! (my friends can't play the guitar)

and out she walks singing "my friends can't play the guitar dhir kitana dhir kitana"....fixing the world in her own simple ways!

What a day!

2009-05-18T21:19:00.007+05:30

Ginger chai and pakoras was what i wished for as i woke up this morning. Instead what i got was potato soup, corn & onion bread, raisin bread, a choice between mango spread and cheese spread, fried rice, steamed unpolished rice from Pondicherry and finally chocolate cake for dessert - and all this home made! Ah and some lovely herbal tea & spicy nuts as we watched the evening rains lash out on the trees and the roof. All thanks to the warmth and generosity of a couple friend who invited us over for lunch. This amazing couple i know living a simple, earth friendly life, asking the right questions, spending as much time in thought as in action and always maintaining a deep relationship with nature. As i spent a day, nourished by the food and my conversations with them, it got me thinking what it means to truly respect earth, the way i see these two wonderful people do.

It means, to be able to say "I don't need much to be happy in life." And truly mean it. Simple needs. No hoarding, no cluttering, no wastage. Being willing to share everything. (After the delicious meal, the leftover yummy bread and cake generously packed for us to take to the others back at home!)

It means to to never look for instant gratification and put love in whatever one does with one's hands. To experiment with materials, arrangements, textures, flavours. To be willing to create - at one's pace.

It means to be aware of and appreciate the perfection of nature around - in the earth tones and textures, the seed pods, the hollow gourds, the bird nest dropped off the tree by the wind, the tastes and colours of the nascent vegetable patch, the blazing sky at sunset.

It means to slow down one's pace and to sync one's own rhythm to the day's rhythm. To start the day early, rest at mid-noon, slow down as the night creeps in.

It means to work wholly with one's body - and not just with the mind. A little thinking, a little talking and discussing, a little of working with hands in silence and a little of watching and observing and absorbing.

It means welcoming others into one's life with warmth, generosity and respect. To be sensitive to what the other person wants and to give as much as one can. Be it exploring questions raised, sharing food or even working with beads and threads with the little child craving for attention in the middle of all that adult time!

For me it was a day to rest, to think, to observe, to enjoy and just feel special. Thank you my dear friends for this truly special day!

For a Friend

2009-05-12T19:45:00.007+05:30

Had a great experience with children in class the other day which i thought i absolutely must document. We are doing myths and mythology as part of our Summer Camp theme. In each session, we share an interesting story from Indian mythology with the kids and have a follow-up activity. In one of the classes i did with the 4-6 year olds, I shared the story of Krishna and Sudama. And of course in my self-righteousness (and indignation at the return-gifts culture of birthday parties!) totally focussed on how Sudama took a simple and yet thoughtful gift for Krishna. At the end of the session, i got each child to make a picture for one's best friend - which one could then gift to this friend. Here's some of the responses by children:

Nidhi - i will make balloons for my didis (and she tells me names of three older children from her apartment complex).
me: Are they your friends Nidhi?
Nidhi: No but if i give them the balloons, they will be!

Shreya (also drawing balloons) - i want to give toys to my friends but i can only draw balloons.

Ruhi - I don't have one best friend - everyone is my friend. I will make gifts for EVERYONE! (Ms. Universe in the making?!)

Nia: (mistaking Ruhi to be lonely, i guess) It's ok Ruhi, you can be my best friend (they've met three days back for the first time!). I will make you a gift and also allow you to come and play with Foster (a dog who she was making a picture for originally)

Sameer: My best friend is Shubham and i will make a gift for him (draws something that looks like a spaceship and finishes coloring it in 3 mins flat). Hey Shubham - here your gift is ready.
Shubham: what is this?
Sameer: This is you (that's when i notice the smile and eyes on the spaceship thingy!)
Shubham: very nice. I will also make a picture of you (makes eyes and smile on the house he was drawing)
Me: i thought your best friend was Sanjana.
Shubham: Yes but now it is Sameer (oh well!)
30 secs later, drawing discarded, these two "best" friends are wrestling in the corner!

Suhrud: (has made quite a detailed picture and done a fairly neat job of colouring it) I was actually making it for (and gives me names of two girls) but i like this picture and they always fight with me. So i am giving this to me. (ah! All's fair in ....!)

Nia: (comes to me) I hope it's ok that you don't have anyone making a picture for you...maybe it's because you only like simple gifts.

So here's the friendship rule book i got to check out as the children shared their world with me that day in class:
Rule # 1 - there is really no concept of "BEST FRIEND".

Rule # 2 - I will offer friendship to whoever is around (and then again it's ok to change my mind)

Rule # 3 - I give you the best thing i can create!

Rule # 4 - I form my relationships not based on how the other person is or treats me, but purely on how i feel about the other person.

Rule # 5 - In the world of friends - there are endless possibilities of relating and giving! So who needs the rule book anyway??!

i talk , therefore i am

2009-04-22T17:15:00.012+05:30

In the middle of my summer camp, working with children between 4 to 6 years in the morning and then with 7 to 11 years in the afternoon. I find this time of the year both demanding and satifying. While i enjoy developing content for the older batches, i love the time i spend with the younger ones. The difference i discovered early on in my work with children is that the younger they are, the more open they are to a variety of learning experiences. Their reactions and responses are brilliant in their originality. And they respond out of the excitement to learn and not to appear "cool" with other peers like the older ones do!

Also, yesterday in the middle of the session with the older kids, another contrast struck me - the HUGE difference in the noise levels. As children get older, the decibel levels also increase quite drastically. So the loudest group i need to tolerate (rather badly i admit) is the 9-11 year olds. They are REALLY loud - be it when responding to what i am sharing , or asking for things or simply while talking to one another. As a teacher – I myself don’t set a great example – shouting over the children’s voices to be heard and (pointlessly) trying to establish control over the group!

This got me thinking. Why do children have such a strong need to be loud? Is this their way to cope with the clamor around them? So much so that even when in quieter spaces they are unable to recognize it and moderate their volume. Most seem to use the same volume in a group of 10 as they do in a group of 60 back in school. Overcrowded cities, packed malls, crammed classrooms, angry traffic on the roads - quite a deafening world to be raised in!

Or is it that children constantly need to speak loudly to get the attention they need from us adults around? Having to speak over the evening news, the phone calls, the orders, the reprimanding...that sure needs high volume!

Another gnawing doubt, is this their desperate attempt to get the appreciation they deserve for who they are? With over-reliance on verbal intelligence in most urban learning settings, articulation gets kids instant recognition, indulgent smiles and pats on the back. So the only way for the child to feel appreciated is probably to talk talk talk and talk LOUD!

And in this entire pandemonium, there would be a child who is unable to speak up or maybe chooses not to join the hubbub...this child, like everyone else, has the need to be acknowledged, to be appreciated, to be valued would be like the others. How does that silent (yet gifted) child cope with this reality?

So as i sit in the class, overwhelmed by the decibel levels, i struggle to create a space where observing in silence, and allowing reflection to nurture one's learning and growth is possible. Where i listen first before i speak out. And allow the child in me and those outside feel valued and appreciated without having to scream out loud.

To each her own!

2009-04-02T06:07:00.002+05:30

A few days back, drastic temperature variations in Bangalore and sure enough little Nia fell sick. She had a terrible cough and found it difficult to eat. My latest stand in life - say no to anitbiotics - led to me treating her with some home remedies (details of which are saved for another blog). So while she was getting better (will never admit otherwise), it was a slow process.

So three days of being sick, nia was up almost all night due to coughing. With all the sleep deprivation, she woke up quite disoriented. As usual she called out to me but sounded different. When i went to her room, she was sitting up, wide-eyed and looking a little surprised, a little confused. Here's what she had to say:

nia: mamma the room is shaking

me: not it is not (and i hold her tight hoping it'd help - but it obviously didn't)

nia: it is mamma, IT IS! and what is that dum dum sound

me: sweetie there is no sound

nia continued to sit there still trying to figure out and me - i am all set to pick up the phone and call the doc. Just to check i ask her: has the shaking stopped kunju?

nia: no mamma, but why are we taking the whole house on the train? are we going to ammamma?

me: nia there is no train. it is our house baaboo.

and i just sit there - holding her, looking at her - and she still glances around all baffled, trying to figure it out.....

...when suddenly, all confusion from her face clears and with her ah-i-cracked-this-one look , she turns to me and says: now i know what it is mamma,its my heart drums!

beat on crazy drums!

My Masks & Me

2009-03-13T14:12:00.011+05:30

i was in a learning space this week with a group of friends that left me with questions on identity. Facets of my identity have been created over the years, based on my roles and relationships. Each space that i am in – the core of my identity shines through but there is a mask i take on - depending on how i perceive that space for myself. both in terms of what i need to give in and what i get for myself. And over a period of time, i have two or three masks that become an integral part of my identity. Masks through which i express myself or relate to the other in that space. Masks through which i set and fulfill expectations.

I would like to believe that there is some space, some relationship in my life where i am authentically ‘just me’ - mask-less. But that is far from the truth. i always have a mask on, no matter what space i am in. The quality of masks differ, at times an impenetrable iron plate, giving no clues about the colour of my skin or the look in my eyes and at times, a thin, almost transparent, veil of chiffon, offering a connection seeped in authenticity.

But then the question for me that stays unanswered is - what comes first - the relationship / space or the mask? As far as i can remember, i have held on to some mask or the other - and they have become my primary means of connecting with someone or living upto a role. So WHAT is this big fear of staying mask-less even as a intimacy grows; the fear of being completely open and therefore maybe vulnerable to the other? Sure, each mask helps in satisfying some need of mine in that space, but what about me do i perceive as so unacceptable if there is no mask to cover it?

As i got thinking about the different masks i don, i also got in touch with how it is most difficult for me to let go of the masks that i have taken on in my childhood. Much before my own independent identity was formed. Though there has been a lot of learning and growing and challenging of the self since i was a little girl, I simply cannot drop the mask from those early years. Almost as if peeling off that mask would mean having to scrape of my skin itself, leaving me covered with raw, wounded flesh. Or like a friend asked: do i hold on to the mask to cover the wounds that are already there, afraid of the vulnerability or even rejection that i would then have to deal with?

I don't even know if i want to take the masks off; whether i really can is a different matter altogether. But now the big question for me to work on - can i see me in the mirror without any masks on and be accepting of what i see?

The Blessing of Sunsets

2009-02-25T16:30:00.002+05:30

I find something oddly comforting in the beauty of sunsets. The light of the sky transforming into swirls of deep red, magenta and violet, the fury of the sun dimming into a intense, yet soft orange and the slow creeping of black to engulf the world.

The message i receive as the sky transforms from a splash of vibrant colours to darkness is that no matter how your day has been - it's now time to rest. To take a deep breath & pause. To move from a frenzy to stillness. To find a sense of peace within.

And it is so heartening to see that no matter how my day has been, the beauty and peace of the sunset tells me that all's right with my world!

(Picture: Evening @ Banwasi with friends)

The legend of the Worry Dolls

2009-02-18T07:39:00.009+05:30

The Worry Dolls is a beautiful legend from Guatemala that i first heard when my sister gifted me these dolls as i was returning home after my first visit to her home in Seattle. I have used them often and find great healing potential in this ritual.

Two years later, i decided Nia, now all of 4, was ready for her own set of Worry Dolls. Again my sister came to the rescue (sometimes i feel she is my real-life worry doll!) and sent me a set.

That night Nia was thrilled. She absolutely insisted that i too use my worry dolls that night. And both our rituals were so strinkingly different; here's a peek:

nia: what are your dolls' names mamma?
me: huh? ok here's my doll #1, #2 and #3.

nia: MAMMA! greet them nicely!
me: nice to have you here yaaaaaaawn!
nia: hi daya and baigo. daya thank you for taking care of your younger sister baigo. now both of you have to take care of me. this is my room, my pillow, my sheet. see around carefully - this will be your home now.

Then there is some whispering going on between nia and her worry dolls.

nia: ok mamma you go first
me: worry dolls please take care of my worry .....
nia: ok now my turn. Daya since you are bigger, i will give you a big worry. You make sure that i get only good dreams all through the night. And Baigo, you make sure that when i get up i remember all the good dreams.
me: ok nia time to sleep, get the dolls under your pillow.

nia: mamma one last thing - daya, baigo, if you feel thirsty in the middle of the night, let me know. I have some water with me.

lights off; blissful silence for all of 60 seconds.

nia: mamma put on the light - one last thing....whisper whisper whisper

lights off; again 60 seconds of snoozing off, when....

nia: mamma pleeeeeeeeeeeease put on the light - i promise one last thing. get me a napkin, they are cold and need a sheet

me: NIA!

nia: i said please - you cannot shout at me!

me: sigh!

Napkin on, lights off, another uneventful minute passes by...

nia: mamma i promise one really really last thing

me: one more time the lights come on, i am sending u to Guatemala!

nia: (completely ignoring my threat) Daya, Baigo, one last thing - please don't worry too much!

sigh!

my dear worry dolls, the gods in heaven, mother universe and whoever is listening - take care of this child so that she never ever loses this magical adorable spirit! And help me that i never stop to listen...

Farewell & remember...

2009-02-17T07:56:00.010+05:30

Recently a school next door hosted a farewell party for the Std X class – a ritual we see in most schools in India. It had the usual trappings of any such event – sentimental songs from Hindi movies, an adapted version of Auld Lang Syne, and of course faculty speeches to the outgoing batch. The sounds drifting from the microphones got me thinking about my own farewell party almost two decades ago! Sadly, there isn’t much I can recall except what I wore and a simple ritual of passing a lit candle to our juniors.

Though I loved school and had my share of achievements, I am more proud of what I achieved post-school both in terms of connecting with people and also stretching my own limits. I do wish school had equipped me a little better to deal with the world and my life. So here’s my wish list of some of the things they could have told me on the night of our farewell party:

- Life is difficult and you are on your own!

- The most precious gift from your school years are your friends. Never again will you get such a long time in one place to nurture friendships. So always stay in touch with your school friends.

- We taught you language in school not so you can score marks in exams but more so that you have the ability to speak up when required.

- You probably didn’t make it to any sports team because the Physical Ed. teacher didn't know how to handle a large group. Find opportunities to play and enjoy a sport - you will learn a lot more than the game itself.

- The labels you've earned in school are not part of your identity for life. You shed them when you step out of school. And life will present you plenty of opportunities to create new labels for yourself.

- It is not important what your teachers thought of you. What you believe about yourself will shape your destiny.

- Failure is great because it will push you to stretch yourself and set you free to follow your dreams

- We punished you in school not because what you did was wrong but because we as adults could not handle what was happening and needed to regain our sense of control!

- Knowledge that you gain from books will be insignificant compared to the knowledge you gain from your experiences. You will pay a high price for it but it will be knowledge well earned.

- The world is filled with limitless opportunities and there is a space under the sun for everyone to achieve something.

- Competition is real but it will take you only to a particular level. After that, it is how you are willing to do better than what you done today

- Don't channel your efforts to build skills for a specific profession - instead channel your efforts in exploring your skills and then see which profession fits in for you.

And finally
- working with children can be very satisfying!

Maybe my teachers thought all this and tried telling me in their own ways, maybe i was not ready to receive the messages then and had to discover it in my own ways. In any case, it might be interesting to go back and listen to what they are telling the girls now. And maybe request my school principal to allow me to share my two-bits with the outgoing batch. I guess i owe this much to my school :)!

Special Friends and Special Me!

2009-02-04T09:10:00.006+05:30

There is this amazing circle of women that i am a part of - four living in Bangalore and one in Chennai. We got together almost three years back to form a team that would facilitate a specific training program. We have developed deep personal connections with each other, through the work we did with each other and with the groups we met. And we keep meeting in-between as well :). Women at my back is how i see them in my life - truly grateful to the universe for connecting me with each of them.

i was recently with a couple of them last week, when i realized that i don't know their birthdays. i know only one woman's and i have always forgotten it almost every year since I have been friends with her! it seemed a little strange not to know it despite having been together for almost three years now.

And then i realized that we have never celebrated birthdays together. Instead, just by chance and without any pre-planning we have celebrated each time we met. Invariably one of us would have gifts for everyone. It doesn’t matter what day or why or after how long we are meeting. Each of our meetings is preceded by a little exchange of gifts. Either picked up from places where we might have travelled with our families, or simply while walking down the streets of our own city. I have a treasure chest holding all the gifts - reminding me of these special connections we share and more importantly reminding me how special i am. Incense cones, key chain from Romania, a beautiful diary with handmade pages, a bamboo clip from Shillong, flavoured teas, a t-shirt from Hawaii, worry dolls, hand cream from Bath & Body works, a compact shopping bag to fight plastic, a bright red tea light holder, a tribal good luck charm, lavender oil......the list goes on!

I guess, this is my circle of women where we don't celebrate occasions - we celebrate people.

A must visit site for women

2009-01-29T15:00:00.007+05:30

Following upon a web article a friend of mine sent me the link to, i stumbled upon this really cool website : My Inspiration Lounge

Created by a woman, it has tons of links to very interesting websites, thoughts, ideas, practical tips and everything you possibly need while you are looking for inspiration. The inspiration you seek could be to start a venture, go travel, save, go green, get healthy, cook and entertain (that's the one that got me) and even references for books, movies and films. I loved the idea and I loved the look and feel of the website. A must see for all my women-friends

The aroma and feel of special connections

2009-01-29T13:54:00.007+05:30

There is an ecofarm called Aikya in Bangalore where I have stashed special memories i share with an incredible group of women i met over five years. Each year the group would spend 10 days together working with oneself on aspects of living and leading. In the process some of us bonded deeply with each other. Although I live a few miles away from this farm, I never visited the farm after the 5-year program ended. Until recently, I went there with two other women from the same circle, this time to offer yet another learning space for a circle of women who trusted us enough to gift themselves the workshop!

While I was really excited about going back to Aikya, strangely, I wasn’t caught by a surge of nostalgia when we finally reached there. Yes, there were great memories but nothing to set my skin tingling, my stomach churning and me getting all goose-bumpy! Until my morning bath the next day. Since Aikya does not have any geysers, water is heated outside our rooms in two black pots from where we then take it to our respective rooms. The water catches on the strangely pleasant aroma of the wood and dry coconut shells, which I had quite forgotten. When I poured the water over me, the uniquely “Aikya” aroma of the water brought back the sounds of the laughter and tears, the confronting and the comforting, the struggling and resting, all of it.

Another memory comes fleeting in with the call of the ‘atira’ bird. Yet another unique connection in Ahmedabad where I first heard this bird calling in the middle of a deep conversation with a friend. I had never heard it, not that it was melodious or soothing in anyway – just very strong and unlike anything I had heard before. My friend, who is as clueless about birds as I am said, “ arre yeh birds toh hamesha ATIRA ke paas dikhte hai” (you can always see these birds near ATIRA). And so the bird became the ‘atira’ bird for me. I have heard the calling several times afterwards, in Ahmedabad and other cities that became home later. I still don’t know what the bird’s real name is, not that I am trying to find out! It will always be the Aitra bird for me – with memories of a very special phase of my life resonating in its calling.

With all the moving and reinventing I have done with my life so far, I often forget special things I have shared with people. Conversations with my friends, people I worked with – many ordinary yet special moments that define me as a person today. And though the mind forgets, the body remembers. She has so lovingly and carefully tucked all these special moments in her different senses bringing them back to me in moments I least expect. In the aroma of lavender oil, the grainy texture of sand, the dampness of the night rain, smokiness of burning firewood, aftertaste of cold coffee, strange harmony of off-key singing, simple taste of masala bun and chai, rough warmth of old cardigans – each bringing in special times with special people. And with a sense of gratitude for this power of my body, I breathe in deeply and touch and feel intensely all these special connections in my life!

Year beginning blues & purples!

2009-01-08T11:27:00.002+05:30

After all that self-praise on losing weight, i woefully realized that i have actually regained a lot of the weight i had lost over the year, given my reckless eating through December and foolishly cutting back on the swimming.

Thankfully, the energy of new beginnings and the 2 hours i spent creating my list of resolutions for the year (41 and counting!) stopped me from slipping into a depression. Track shoes in hand, i set off on a hunt for the perfect gym. The effort sure paid off! I found an all women's gym pretty close to home. The whole look and feel of this place is so different from the kind of gyms i have visited in the past. What appealed to me in my first visit to the place were mainly:
1) special aerobic floor boards that have some kind of buffer to avoid impact on knees and back
2) a 10 min stretching routine at the end of the workout to minimize muscle soreness.

But the biggest selling point for me was that the entire gym is done up and in blue and....you guessed it - purple :)!! From the walls to the door to parts of the furniture all have my lovely purple. The colour has seeped in so much that even the little PET bottles they have filled with water are purple (no points for guessing this time!) Ever since i have started this blog, i am convinced purple is the colour for healing. And all those purple patches all over the place (did i mention the ceiling?) sure help me feel upbeat while i workout.

So now its 3 days (and counting), since i have started going to the gym.. Hope to continue with all earnest so i can get to my ideal body weight and buy that little black dress (Resolution # 4 and resolution #39 respectively on my long list) by the end of 2009!

There's magic in the air!

2008-12-25T06:02:00.006+05:30

There is something truly magical about this time of the year. The colours, sounds and smells of Christmas followed closely by the festivities of the New Year. It's not like i really celebrate this festival with my family, but it does feel like a time to celebrate. Me thinks its more to do with an old year ending and a new year starting. And as 2008 comes to an end - i do have a lot of things that i am proud of having done in the last twelve months. Things i want to celebrate about the year:

- Surviving working with 350 children over the year

- Reading some amazing books (Women who run with the Wolves, Cuckold & Kite Runner tops my list)

- Trying out Bollywood dancing (phew! that's one item i can forever erase from my things-to-do list)

- Making some amazing connections with some women in my life (this is for you my PACT gang!)

- Learning how to swim and getting better (i like to think of my breast strokes as simply poetry in motion!)

- Meeting several inspiring people doing great work (Lalita from CFL, SST in Anantpur, Andhra Pradesh and Daily dump in Bangalore comes to mind here)

- Surviving cold-cough attacks purely with herbal remedies (thank you philo and aikya!)

- A great holiday in Coorg with my women friends and their daughters

- Welcoming two little girls into this world (amrita, anagha - can't wait for you to get to know me better!)

- Karaoke singing with my family in Seattle (mera kuch saaaaaamaan....)

- Seeing, touching snow

- Getting over my chai-addiction (thank you leavenworth & ankur!)

- Continuing to explore my creative self (creating Warli art using PowerPoint - true brilliance!)

- Losing and managing weight better (finally managed to do that for myself after 8 years of wanting to!)

- Getting over my fear of insects (well almost!)

- Discovering the world's best pedicurist close to home (thank you sumati!)

- Every moment i spent with nia (excluding the times that involved brushing teeth, getting ready for school and refusing her chocolates)

- Getting my daughter's school principal to see that i am actually a really nice person (can safely put this here, coz i am sure she will never visit this blog!)

- And of course starting my own blog (inspired and motivated by my sis)!

Wow! it was quite a year for me. And i still have a week left to pack all left over action i had planned or not planned! Got to go - so little time, so much to do!

Half Empty - Half Full

2008-12-24T05:43:00.009+05:30

The 12.5 minutes car ride to drop my daughter Nia to school has now increased to 18, thanks to some new traffic signals and road dividers that have cropped up along the way. Not that I am complaining. In my entire schedule, this is the only time i can (in the wildest sense of the term) define as spiritual. Here's what happened a few days ago:

I was tagging behind a biker through some narrow lanes before we could turn onto the main road. Just as we were turning, Mr Biker in front and me following closely behind, he decides to stop halfway into the turn without even pulling over to drop off his pillion rider. Caught unawares, I had to quickly swerve to my right to avoid hitting him. And i was MAD!

So here's the scene after that:

Me: Oh Shucks ! What the hell! (notice minimal use of profanity keeping in mind the presence of a young child in the car)

Nia: Mamma, why did you say oh shucks?

Me: (still really mad) Nia, did you see how that biker just stopped at the turn, BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH, he is supposed to pull over BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH, i could have hit him BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH, luckily i was able to turn off quickly, BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH what the hell do people think BLAH BLAH BLAH, these bikers have no road sense BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH, they should be given separate roads to drive on, BLAH BLAH, ........(get the drift?!)

Nia: (hearing my rantings for a full five minutes with complete patience) But Mamma, you should not say oh shucks.

Me: (huh?) But Nia that's not a bad word.

Nia: No Mamma, you are supposed to say, thank god i did not hit that man even though he stopped suddenly.

Oh well! I hear you daughter!

And Santa, I hope you are watching over my little theologian!

Where man & machine meet

2008-12-17T17:28:00.007+05:30

........is a little bakery stashed in a small street in our neighbourhood. i went there today on a field trip with a bunch of kids. And though i have been there before, that place never ceases to amaze me.

This bakery essentially has three units - bread division (where dough for the bread is made, cut, and kept on hold till it enters into the oven), bun division (likewise for buns and biscuits) and finally the packing division. Plus there is a quality control lab and a distribution unit.

So what's amazing there is the complete harmony i experience between man and machine. Around each machine stand a group of people, rooted to the spot repeating the same motion over and over again. A few walk around moving material - but most workers just stay put. Stand and repeat what they need to do to keep the machine going - again and again and again. It's basically the machine that sets the pace while the men and women around it support it. Like in the bread unit, as the machine drops the dough balls into the conveyor belt, workers on either side pick it up and put it in the molds. The machine goes clip-clop clip-clop clip-clop. The man goes pick-drop, pick-drop, pick-drop, pick drop. In the packing unit, the bread slicer goes trrtp-sash, trrt-sash trrt-sash trrt-sash and the lady standing there goes hold-pass, hold-pass, hold-pass, hold-pass. Everywhere you see, there is perfect rhythm; a super-efficient mechanical dance between the two parties.

Now, one might believe that this highly repetitive set of motions could be quite mind-numbing over a period of time. And sure i agree people may not necessarily being doing it out of love for the bread-making process. But despite the humming and sounds of machines, there is an air of meditative serenity i experienced. Everyone works in tandem with the machines for a few minutes at a stretch and then there is a break: machines are stopped, quick conversations and back to the dance floor :) . It's not just me who gets drawn into that harmonious rhythm, it also has a calming effect on the children. The same kids who need a variety of theatrics just short of standing on my head to settle down and pay attention back in class, now standing for a full five minutes as one of the men there just stands at his post pushing out hot breads from the baking moulds - dhapp-woosh; dhapp-woosh; dhapp woosh......

i have seen little videos on bread-making where the whole place is mechanized. But trust me, while those places look zillion times more efficient, they do not have even an iota of character like this semi-mechanized bakery has. I think there is a sense of peace many a times, when one is engaged in a repetitive motion. Plain repetitive mechanical work. On an auto pilot mode, doing things over and over again. I get a feeling, this is what i miss in my life. Sure the work i do is quite stimulating and i have all the freedom in the world. But end of the day, i do get a little tired dealing with tons of variables and personalities. So just to recharge myself, it may not be such a bad idea to engage in something simple & mechanical and done in silence. In Mumbai local trains when i was in college, i would notice some women getting into that same calming energy through knitting or at times twirling a rosary. So what do i do?

Not that i could work all my life in a bakery, but certainly maybe once a week. Put on the hair cover and the apron and take my place in this synchronized mechanical world. A time to calm my nerves, relax my brain cells, exercise those arms and just go on and on and on. And given my love for bakery products, the aroma of the place with buns and biscuits all around would be a perk I'd happily enjoy!

So the next time you don't see me in my office, you know where to find me - by the corner of a little bakery in Bangalore, in complete peace going : dhapp-woosh; dhapp woosh; dhapp-woosh!

I am 4!

2008-12-10T07:44:00.009+05:30

We celebrated Nia's 4th birthday last weekend. It is probably the most planned event of the year. She starts in June when she first wishes her maamu (mom's brother) a happy birthday. Then sets in the depression: "how come maamu has his birthday so soon and i have to wait till December?" It does not particularly help than most of us in the family have our birthdays thru June, July, August and September! So the only way to counter the depression is to encourage her planning for her December birthday. Though not much of the planning helps since it is only Nia doing the planning (mommy and daddy like most parents wake up a week before the D-day). What does help is that the cake never changes - its always yellow cake with red cherries on top :)

Finally a week before the birthday, Nia woke up every single morning all bright eyed saying "ah! my birthday is so close now!" And then finally the D-day when she was actually up by 5:00 AM dancing around the house! It's hard to not allow that enthusiasm to rub on you right from June onwards! All the discussions, the guest list, the things she wants many a times are part of our bedtime conversation. Gifts she wants are very simple - winnie the pooh cutlery and her favourite brand of chocolates for breakfast was all she asked this year. And yet the sheer pleasure of seeing how much this day means to her and how much she loves herself!

Keeping up with the Dora theme of her life, we decided to take her camping to a place close by (thanks to a friend who could organize it for us). Nia had a great time and the next morning she sleepily murmured "i am 4" before disappearing into the sleeping bag. I kept lying down looking at my little baby, thankful for what her presence has meant to me. So what has turning 4 meant to my baby? What has changed in the last one year for her? Her confidence at taking on people. Defiance when asked to do something she does not want to. Fascination for writing - she went thru a phase of "2 is so difficult" to actually enjoying scribbling 8 all over the place. Increased interest in mythology. Putting in effort to speak grammatically correct sentences. Her willingness to be a little more independent in doing her chores. The thrill she gets in wearing traditional clothes. Also nail paint and lipstick. A strong view that girls are nice and boys are naughty.

I also see a lot of things that have not changed for her since the last one year. A fascination for language. Talking loudly. Her attachment to me. Looking forward to evenings with my neighbour. Trying hard to reason out with us to win an argument. Her amazing ability to move on when someone lets her down. Her tantrums when she is refused a chocolate before dinner. Asking for jeera goli and Gems every time she gets to make a wish. Connecting everything that happens in real life to her own imaginary world in a place she calls Jamma where she lives with her girl husband, 8 daughters and 2 sons. Her fear that people will think she is a boy if she wears pants. Her pretend shy look when she meets new people. Love for chocolates. Not wanting to go to school - making up reasons right from there's a festival at home today to i want to visit oni-ma in Seattle. Her daily dose of one story and one song before bedtime. And of course, her disappointment that she is born in the last month of the year!

But the one thing that stays the same, for which i am most grateful, is her absolute willingness to share her world with me - be it through her questions, her thoughts, her reactions and her wishes. Thanks to her willing and open sharing, i too am challenged to look at my life, my ways and my perspectives. And in her sharing, I too have grown and today am a proud 4-year old mamma!

Racing towards a nicer world

2008-12-09T07:53:00.009+05:30

We recently held a sports event for our playgroup program with kids between age 2.5 to 4 years participating in some simple games. The event means a lot of preparation and work back end beyond our regular sessions. But it is so worth it! Personally for me the highlight is the preparation - which starts 6 weeks prior to the D-day, with each teacher getting her group to practise the games that they would eventually participate in on the final day. Like they say the journey being more important than the destination - it's real fun to see these kids as they get ready for the D-day. I see both independence and team bonding emerging clearly during this phase. The children seem to be mighty kicked that everyone in the class is doing the same thing and doing it together. Be it the simple marching and subsequent drill that each class presents or the organized games.

So on the D-day, its not like we have on-the-spot races and competitions. Not that it matters to the young children anyway! And I say this because in the last 3 sports events that we have conducted so far - my consistent observation has been that peer-level competition is practically non-existent for these kids. Not just during the team activities but even when they are standing along the start line waiting for a race to begin. Children this age are just not able to see individual performance as different from others'. They seem to playing every game in the true spirit of 'lets-have-fun-together' and not like 'i-got-to-win-this'!

For instance, for this year's theme 'Street games' - each batch participated in a simpler adaptation of a street game and also in a typical race. Some examples that i can recall now that shows this non-existing sense of competition:

- while playing blind man's bluff, children actually stop running when they see one of their friends blindfolded and go hold his hand

- while playing 'saakhli' (a chain tag game). when the chain gets longer, a couple of children who still have to be caught, invariably run and join the chain, because the chain seems to be having more fun!

- in a race, the child who finishes first, sees some of her friends still on the race track and she runs back to join them and continues in the race.

- in a round of lemon and spoon race, one kid's lemon rolls off. the kid in the adjacent track actually stops to pick it up and hands it back to the first kid.

So honestly speaking, these kids just don't get it. No matter how many times the teachers explain the rules or demonstrate or even cheer individual kids, they just don't get it!

Competition is so real for us adults. And more so at the peer level. When we interact with parents of the playgroup program as they are trying to decide which school, a lot of them are fretting about how tough this competition will be for their kids. For a qualifying exam that their child will take 12 years later to get into college. But their kids - refuse to understand, acknowledge or create this air of competition.

And while i do agree that competition is real, i honestly am not able to understand when the concept of peer competition sets in. Certainly not in the first two years of formal learning. So when does this sense of having fun together and collaborating get converted to competing? My fear is that its a change in perspective that we force in as adults into the child's world. Based on our own experiences which we probably took in from our parents. And so it continues.

Imagine for a moment, what if this was little different - instead of adults forcing their perspective on children, what if we embraced theirs? What would change in our world? In our homes, communities, work places? How different would our interactions, arguments, negotiations be?

This may not change too soon but its worth a thought. In the words of Lennon, you may say i am dreamer, but (i hope) i am not the only one....

Pedestrian Prototypes

2008-12-03T11:40:00.001+05:30

There was a time when the only people i would curse were the bikers - zipping and changing lanes like pond skaters and giving me quite a few heart attacks. Then came the bus drivers - driving like they owned the road. Defying every law of space and fit - trying to squeeze in where even the bikers wouldn't dare.

But over time I have started to accept the bikers and the bus'ers as bad relatives on the road that one just has to live with. I respectfully give way, and wistfully stare at their departing fumes trusting karma. So does this mean i am beyond road rage? Ha! Far from it. Now it is directed at the pedestrians around. But since i am the one with the mean machine here, i don't misuse my power position. Instead i just observe their ways and tuck them into my PPH (yes my romance with P continues!).

Which gets me to my next question - what's the PPH? It is the Pedestrian Prototype Handbook - my very own system of classifying pedestrian behaviours. My piece of research for an anthropologist some million years into the future trying to understand how certain category of homosapiens behaved under certain circumstances.

Some quick definitions and terminology that exist in this priceless piece of research:

Wistful wanderers - These are the ones who stick to the sidewalks, walking slowly lost in their own dreams. They seem very purposeless in the way they just walk around, a day to slow down and seem particularly at peace with the world.

Sidesteppers - These are the ones who, for reasons best known to them, have developed a deep aversion to the sidewalks. So you will find them walking along the sidewalk on the road. Trying hard to coexist with the cyclists and bikers on the road. And an occasional four-wheeler overtaking from the wrong side

Phantoms - walk like they are the only things that exist on the road. With as much as much as ease in the middle of the road as they are on the sidewalks. When it's time to cross, they just walk across as if the entire road is a completely deserted stretch made exclusively for them to get to places.

Bollywood Bundar - Definitely the most entertaining. They see a vehicle coming their way and then start crossing the road. Actually running - imitating the styles of the older bollwood heros - mostly jeetu bhai and big B. To ensure that there is an audience for their act - they ACTUALLY run towards the vehicle.

Juggling Gymnast - this is the variety that absolutely insists on using the narrow road dividers and try out different walks precariously balanced on the piece of concrete; completely oblivious to the traffic zipping by.

Undercover traffic cop - This is the variety who have an internal traffic signal they move to. Irrespective of what the actual traffic signal indicates, they decide to walk when they are ready. And just so the whole world is in sync with their internal mechanism, they will actually stick out a hand to stop the speeding traffic as they attempt to cross. The only point of consolation - they mostly use the zebra crossing (+/- 2 feet)!

So this piece of scientific work actually helps me find a vent to the anger at the pedestrians. Even as my research continues, I dedicate this PPH to all those creative pedestrians i encounter everyday.

As for those of you pedestrians who respectfully stand at the zebra crossing waiting for the "walk" sign on the traffic light - come on guys, use your imagination!

Creativity Unlimited!

2008-11-26T05:37:00.016+05:30

Back in school, there was clear branding on a whole lot of things - studious / naughty being the most common. More so in the space of arts. There were clearly the "good" artists, performers, orators and writers. The rest of the class, definitely "not good", only meant to be the captive audience. Given large classes and the limited focus on anything other than academics, any event that came up created opportunities only for the good ones. Although i had my fair share of success in school, no one ever saw in me any artistic talent. Neither did i. Back then the definition of creativity around me was 'creativity = good at performing arts'. (yes i confess i have still not come around reading Edward de Bono's books!) And therefore "Me = not creative" was a stamp i left school with.

It was much after leaving school that i discovered the creative part of me quite by accident. A chance encounter with clay when i was in my late 20s. A pottery teacher visited the organization that i was then working with to give a demo class. If you liked it, you could then enrol for an 8 session course. The teacher walked around handing out lumps of earth to all those who turned up and asked each one to work with it. I, like most others, sat blank for a while. But clay can be very enticing and sure enough all of us started kneading, rolling, pinching and stretching it. And as each of us worked with our bit of earth, the teacher went around showing us how a simple mask could be made. Completely mindless of the time, the traffic outside or even the day's exhaustion, I made a couple of other masks, quite amazed that I could actually create.

Sure enough, i enrolled for the classes and went thru a huge clay modelling phase of my life. Made lots of gifts for friends. Ranging from tanagram figures to masks to photo frames. And not just satisfied with the form i gave, i rather hesitatingly tried out colours. Me, a non-artist, actually colouring? With a paintbrush?!! What i created then was quite amazing and almost a surreal experience for me:

But even more thrilling that what or how much i made, was the joy of discovering the creative part of me. A part of me that could visualise in images and colours and make something original.

This happened almost six years back in my life. Since then i have tried my hand at several other "creative" things. Innovative lesson plans for kids, designing visuals and posters to be used in our events, learning theatre and performing on stage, learning songs in Kannada (a language i neither speak or understand), co-designing personal development programs for adults, writing little songs for children, painting diyas to be given as gifts during Diwali, blogging,.......

More importantly, my definition of what creativity means stands redefined. I see myself now challenging the mainstream ways of judging work - be it my own or the work others do. The more i look around, the more i discover immense talent within me and all around me. Playing with clay, colours, words has made me feel less bound and more alive.

There's a Pablo Picasso quote i often remember when i work with children: "Every child is born an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up." What I have learnt from my own personal journey, even as it continues, is that you never stop being an artist. It's only a matter of seeing it.

It really is that simple!

2008-11-17T17:21:00.015+05:30

Monday morning. As usual running a little late to work. Trying hard to get past the overloaded trucks, crazy bikers, equally impatient cars. Honking, manoeuvring, cursing.

Finally stuck at a traffic signal. Using the time to run through the to-do-list to be tackled soon as i get to work. And getting exasperated at the idiot behind who is honking despite the signal being red.

In the middle of all this irritation, i glance at the sidewalk, wondering if walking would have gotten me faster to work. And i spot this guy going by. Seems like a daily-wage worker. Two nylon bags - one filled with what looks like saw & hammer and the other with his lunch box. And walking bare feet. Nothing unusual - except for this broad smile on his face. I look hard to see if he actually has a cell phone or some ear phone connected to some kind of audio device. But NOTHING at all. Some memory playing on his mind that's making him smile. And the smile doesn't get any smaller as he waits to cross the road. In fact, it gets bigger as i see him cross and go past me. Completely oblivious to the world but somewhere deeply connected to his own life.

For a moment, i wonder what he might be reliving in his mind. But it does not matter. The smile is enough to help me tide over the monday morning blues, the traffic, the cacophony.

And as i drive on, the morning seems different. and my mind is cocooned by the image of that smile.....

.....it really is that simple to pause, breathe, let your back relax and take things in your stride!

Thank you, Mr. Carpenter!

“I Looove Garbage”

2008-11-10T09:56:00.002+05:30

.....declared Poonam to a group of children who looked at her like she had really lost it! We were on a field trip to Daily Dump, an organization that promotes composting at home. The group of children, all between 7-10 years, each carrying waste from the kitchen – peels, tea leaves, rotten tomatoes and what have you. And each trying hard to hold his breath as we walked towards Daily Dump’s work area. And instead of a smelly, fly-infested garbage dump that we are all used to seeing on our streets, what we saw was a series of very aesthetically designed terracotta pots all lined up in a small garden patch. No smell at all and just a few fruit flies frolicking around! These pots are what Daily Dump designs to help you compost your organic waste at home – truly adding beauty to an aspect of your home where you would least imagine it! Different sizes, designs and service contracts to make composting at home super-easy. Do check out the great work this organization does at their website: http://www.dailydump.org/.

What I would like to share is how I experienced the place with the children. A self-proclaimed Garbage Lady - Poonam connected so well with the children and in her warm and direct way challenged them to look at what “yucky” really means. And how garbage is not really waste. And best of all was her drawing a similarity between garbage and children – saying that just like you kids who have great potential to become something in the future – so does your daily garbage! How cool is that!

Explaining the process in a very simple way, Poonam showed the children how the garbage ‘harvests’ over a period of time. Sure the smell of fresh garbage was a little repulsive to the children, but what was an eye opener is how all that smell is lost even as the garbage is half way into the composting process. By the time your harvest is ready – it actually smells like fresh mud. Pure magic! The children got quite drawn into the process and enthusiastically jumped in to rake the composting garbage. And insisted on doing it several time over – all apprehensions of smell and yuckiness buried under the garbage pile!

What stayed with me the most was Poonam describing the earth as the skin of the earth. And just like people need to keep their skin clean and healthy to be safe, adding compost makes the earth’s skin healthy. Did you know, you can actually reduce your organic waste by 80% by composting at home? And even if you don’t have a garden, by simply adding your compost to the soil anywhere, you are doing your bit towards taking care of the planet.

So go ahead, start composting. Echoing Poonam’s parting remark to the children as they marched out with their composting pots : Let’s all make Earth happy!

The Prolific P

2008-11-10T07:07:00.005+05:30

The day i started this blog, i must have spent a good 2 hours trying to come up with a name. A name that would truly capture my thoughts, my spirit, my moods and madness! After a lot of rummaging through the dictionary and the thesaurus (none of which really helped!) i finally settled on Purple Pitara. And then spent the rest of the day marveling me on my creative genius. The play of words -the clever mix of languages - ah, what a clever name!

In my enthusiasm, i went as far as crowning myself the Queen of Alliteration. Until this weekend, i knew it was time to give up my title when i saw a friend's son reading a comic book. It's about a hero called Capt. Underpants (i swear i am not making this up!) And the title of the book - 'Captain Underpants And the Preposterous Plight of the Purple Potty People'.

Me thinks the author is my soulmate in the world of writing J !

Thali of Two Cities

2008-11-01T08:27:00.005+05:30

Last night on a whim, hubby and me decided to try out a new restaurant called Rajdhani for dinner. I am sure this restaurant has other branches within Bangalore, we went to the one in UB city. Now this restaurant has just one thing to offer - The Rajdhani Thali. A scrumptious spread - a combination of cuisines from Gujarat & Rajasthan - that included 1 chaat, 4 curries, 3 different kinds of dal, 3 different rotis, 3 sweets and 2 different kinds of rice. And though you control the portion sizes as different people come to serve you, I was so stuffed at the end of the meal, i wished one of the cranes working on the construction site across the road could haul me back home. As you can see, though Diwali is behind us - the food spirit still lingers on!

Anyway, after having sampled different cuisines available in Bangalore, I am convinced that nothing can beat the Thali. In comparison, a la carte sucks! After spending countless minutes pouring over the menu and looking at chef recommendations, when the food is finally laid on the table, i am convinced that the food on the next table looks better! No such subtle jealousies waging in a thali place - everyone eats just the same thing. And at Rajdhani, it was quite nice to savour North Indian food down here in the South. Not all the dishes were great, but hey i didn't choose them ;)!

So besides this, what makes a Thali place so cool? Well many things put together like : pre-decided menu, super quick service, variety but not too much (like a buffet spread). And what i like best - no pressure on having to make a choice! In this day and age of consumerism, it is the illusion of having many choices that i dislike the most. Too many 'if-onlys', 'but alsos', 'whys' and 'why nots' can really mess up the mind. Not that i am against having many options to consider. But its nice if someone can skim through all that is availabe and make just-the-right-size shortlist for me to consider. Which is what i experienceat the Thali restaurant. Some shortlisted things, i sample and don't like, so i put an end to it. Some i like and ask more more!

Ah! if only all of life could be served on a thali!

Contradiction curry

2008-10-26T06:00:00.007+05:30

Its festival time in India - we just lived through Dassera and Diwali is round the corner. A huge cultural value i hold (as do most Indians, i think) is "festival = food". So keeping in line with the festival spirit, we decided to have friends over for lunch today. And NOT keeping in line with the festival spirit, I have decided to cook for everyone. I have ACTUALLY decided a menu that can be cooked with the limited culinary skills i have. And i have the next 4 hours, 48 minutes and 5 seconds to accomplish this.

Now let me explain the ridiculousness of this situation. i live with my mother-in-law who is a fabulous cook. I have a helper in the house who cooks snacks for 100 odd kids @ my learning centre through the week. And today when I have 15 people coming over, I decided to make things that both these talented women do not make! It is something that only I can make. This fully knowing that:
1) my friends love my mom-in-law's cooking
2) cooking as an activity completely stresses me out

I still have to get a ladle on this - why does cooking stress me out some much? Well, since a whole bunch of things can be conveniently blamed on early childhood & parents in general, here's my explanation: My mom is great cook. And when i say great - i mean really really GREAT! She could whip up delicacies in minutes with least prep time. She would actually remember what our individual friends liked and then accordingly cook when they visited (in a family of three children with many hungry friends - that's no mean feat). It almost seemed as if she was in direct competition with all the restaurants and the famous Bombay street food vendors. Now maybe that has set up this 'impossible-to-attain' standard in my head. To make things worse, my siblings seem to be quite comfortable in the kitchen and discuss recipes like i discuss comic strips. So that's another source of added pressure.

Also, a part of me feels that there is a unstated rule in our societal psyche : "woman = good cook". So for someone with limited skills like me (and great chefs in the family), this is again a huge obstacle to cross.

So with all this 'खिचडी' cooking in my head - why on earth did i set up this situation today???? why? why? why? But this is not the most absurd event in my life. What is even more preposterous is - when i think of what i would have been doing in life had I not been working with children - the ONLY answer that comes up is running a cafe that serves Indian short-eats. A place which is a happy hangout for people. where everything on the menu costs Rs. 10. And everything is made by me. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!! No matter how hard i try, i can't seem to get this fantasy off my head. Why? Why? Why?

So this Sunday morning, as i need to get ready to cook food for the 15 friends (who i must say are taking a bigger risk than me), i am obviously stalling for time cooking up questions to see how i still got myself into this soup. And can see myself walking on egg-shells. Gosh! My goose is cooked!

and since i have also run out of the self-imposed 500-word blog limit (and all food related cliches), there is nothing much left to do but to get myself into the kitchen and start. Which reminds me, i yet have to buy some the most critical ingredients for my recipes. why? why? why?

PS Coming to think of food cliches - why on earth would something easy be called "like a piece of cake"?

To Bee or not to Bee

2008-10-22T12:34:00.013+05:30

Just finished researching on social behaviors of ants and bees as part of the lesson plan for next week's theme @ our learning centre. All this information is quite new & fascinating for me - teeny weeny insects focus on their roles in the colony and how nature blesses them with just the right physical structure. For instance, the way the hive is structured and the way honey bees organize themselves to ensure survival and sustenance is mind-blowing. And also how insects, through their abilities, then develop unique ways of supporting each other. Take the example of leaf cutter ants. When the worker ants are out there collecting leaves for the whole colony, they are at risk of being attacked by the phorid fly, a parasitic pest which lays eggs into the crevices of the worker ant's head. So the minims (the smallest ants in the colony) often “hitchhike” on leaf fragments to ward of any attack by the parasites. Your own personal body guard as you go about your work - how cool is that?!

So all this research got me thinking - what if people too came with specific structures that dictated what each one is meant to do? What if our bodies got us to focus on specific tasks and only through that connect with others and the community at large? A spot reserved on earth for everyone doing their thing. No conflicts, no politics at work, no one-upmanship. No scurrying like headless roaches tying to figure things out (yeah, that was another thing i researched on!)

But then again, think about it - aren't we too like that little ant or that busy bee? We may not have physical structures geared towards a particular job description in life. But there IS an internal programming that seems to be operating. Maybe not in our bodies but in our psyches. A voice that helps us understand what feels right and what doesn't. Increasingly i hear about people pursuing what appeals to them beyond their educational background or early career choices. Of people giving up everything they do, as if on a whim, to follow a dream. And of others who feel they are stuck in a rut but are asking the right questions to discover their path.

In the culture i grew up in - there were several external factors that determined what you chose as your profession. And early in life, the inner voice is hushed. But going by how i experience a whole of people specially in their 30s - there is hope. For the psyche finds a way to push through the responsibilities, job descriptions, politics and performance appraisals, to say out loud what it needs to. It can come to you in a book you read or a conversation with a friend or a mystical dream that lingers on or just tuning into yourself in your quiet time. And without any clear logic or discussion, our entire being seems to respond to an idea, a thought - "yes this is me!" or atleast what i meant to be! And going by personal experience - when we march in step with this inner voice, life does not get any easy, but it sure does get a whole lot meaningful!

So like those little bees, its nice to heed to the waggle dance your psyche does to direct you to whatever you are meant to be. Go on - ask the right questions, pause & listen, take that one tiny step - and viola, see the magic unfold!

In the company of friends

2008-10-20T15:27:00.011+05:30

Of late, i have begun to notice that weekend nights with friends is getting a very different flavour and spirit. We once went through a phase of watching late night movies at a theatre close by. Seems like something we gave up eons ago - i guess a combination of us having kids of our own plus multiplexes getting overcrowded. Then there was a phase of Games night. That too seems to have died a natural death. Reason: we seem to know the taboo and pictionary cards like the back of our hands! or maybe it was just that the men lost so badly to the womenfolk each time - they just gave up!

So of late, weekend nights with with friends seems to be a time to just connect over conversations. The last few times we met, we just spoke and listened and then spoke some more over cups of coffee and tea. And what do we talk about? Nothing of great consequence but somewhere things that do matter to each of us. From interesting books being read to cooking holiday plans that never may take off. From struggles we face as young parents to how blessed we feel to be so aware in life. From absolute jerks we sometimes meet at work to how at times we end up doing dumber things with our time! Personal philosophies, musings, budding ideas, weird questions, stories, facts all making the rounds.

For me this is a feeling of comfort i can't quite express - a similar feeling of wearing that run-down t-shirt that is so in taters but needs to be held on to like a family heirloom! Its a time to speak without being judged, argue without worrying about offending, question without challenging and finally just being. Concerns that are general and yet not too general; feelings that are deep and yet not too deep! Its interesting to see how little snippets, opinions and thoughts all simmer and rise over the conversations to create a final shape and form that appeals to everyone. And then waiting for that last piece of conversation to run out in the wee hours of morning so we can finally go to bed.

How can facebook ever replace connections as these?

Yeh hai Bombay meri jaan!

2008-10-08T09:14:00.006+05:30

Its almost been a year that I am travelling in Mumbai (Bombay to me - my city, my home!) and have been in for a few surprises. For everyone out there who thinks Bombay is uncaring and expensive - well think again!

i had to go to a friend's house in Colaba and took a local train to VT station (as u can see - i am sticking to the old names). I wasn't sure which is a better exit to take - so i approached a help desk manned by two cops and asked them the best way to get to Regal theatre. One of them immediately said (in Marathi) - just go to that bus stop there - Bus # 1 will take you straight to Regal. I said i'd like to take a cab. His immediate response: "Why do you want to waste money on cabs when there is a straight bus taking you there?"

Anyway, thanking him for his advice, i proceeded towards the taxi stand (i was running late :-/ , that's why). I asked the first cabbie in the line if he could take me to a street ahead of Regal. His response: " i will drop you until Regal. You can walk from there if the place is close." I wasn't surprised at this response - living in Bangalore, this is something i face everyday from the auto drivers there - something like - hey if your destination is where i "feel" like going today and you are willing to pay double the fare, hop on! So i told the cabbie, i don't want to walk, i'll take another cab that takes me to the street. That's when the cabbie told me that he was running a share cab. Which means he takes in four passengers all wanting to go roughly in the same direction. And that's why it's hard for him to drop me till the end point of my destination. Thus enlightened, i told him i was running late and would take a regular cab - he immediately responded, "madam why do you want to spend on a regular cab when you could get there at 1/4th the price? Anyway the place you need to do isn't all that far from Regal"

So people out there - Bombay cares, Bombay saves and Bombay helps you save. I struggle a lot more in Bangalore where public services assume EVERYONE living there has plush software jobs with high disposable incomes and will pay whatever it takes to avail of the public services. But Bombay knows that people have different lives, different stories and are working hard to earn their living. And no matter what the pace of life is out there, Bombay is willing to stop and listen and help. Bombay truly rocks!

Theology with a three-year old

2008-09-26T12:19:00.009+05:30

These days, a new task to my routine activities is dropping my 3 year old daughter Nia to school. And this happens to be the highlight of my day, thanks to the invigorating conversations we have along the way. From discussing people to mythology, plans for upcoming holidays to holidays taken in the past, cracking mysteries of life to things that puzzled us yesterday- all in the drive of 12.5 minutes. Hard to believe? Here’s what happened today:

Nia verbatim and my internal reactions / responses to her

Nia (Opening question) - "why do i to go to school and you to office every day?"
Me: 8 secs response - u need to study, i need to earn (i am not going to bore you with the details!)

Nia #2 - "They make me do so much work in school - why don’t they give me a salary?"
Me - a full one minute, importance of learning blah blah blah..."

Nia #3- "I am feeling very sad. My birthday is in the last month of the year.
Me: Rattling off names of people she likes who were also born in Dec

Nia #4- "Even Jesus Christ was born in December".

Me: Surprised - "who told you about Christ"

Nia #5- “Why don’t you tell me about him?”
Me: Nice long response - must’ve taken all of three minutes. Tried to mix reverence with practicality - Sister Joan from my convent school would have been so proud of me!

Nia #6- "Did he die?"
Me: "Yes" (didn’t bother to get into resurrection as i myself am not too clear about it - shortest exchange - as you can see)

Nia #7- "Will you die?"
Me: I cringed, not too comfortable talking about my own mortality and finally "YES"

Nia #8- (tears in her eye) "I don't want you to die" (awwwww!). "Please eat lots of healthy food so that you live forever and ever"
Me: i spent a full one minute contemplating about the shortness of my life and how cool it is to be alive and how much my daughter loves me and how to reassure this little one....until

Nia #9 : “Mamma i know there is no Santa Claus - Ankur came dressed as Santa”
Me: Ok move over death - time for Santa. That's one story i love - so i try convincing her how its cool to imagine about Santa. And pushed my two bits about how good behavior gets in rewarded. (it did feel weird tho' discussing Santa in September)

Nia #10: Mamma whoever thought of Santa has good imagination. You think Santa is watching me now?
Me: "yes"

Nia #11: Mamma you used a very difficult word yesterday - COMMUNICATE . What does that mean?
Me: Oh oh whatever happened to Santa? Anyway, Mamma Dictionary explained the word to her and also wondering why I would use the word ‘Communicate’ with her

Nia #12: "I am sorry for calling you an idiot yesterday - you think Santa heard me say sorry?"
Me: Mission accomplished - but i still went right ahead and used up all of two minutes to deliver another sermon on good behavior

Nia #13: "Now if anyone troubles me or calls me an idiot - i'll tell them not to or Santa will not give them gifts"

Finally silence in the car; guess she had something to think about .

And me, i was thinking about lessons on 'The Art of Conversations' that i learnt from my 3-year old over the last few minutes:

Lesson #1 - Keep it short and simple

Lesson #2 - Just get your basics right - no point goin in-depth

Lesson #3- Seek information - the variety of things you can ask about - the better it is

Lesson #4- All problems have simple solutions - move on with it!

Lesson #5 - Information is good only if you use it - so immediately apply it to your own life

Phew! that's a lot to get out of a 12.5 min ride I think as I park outside her school. The end to my morning ritual is me peering over the wall waiting to say the last goodbye for the morning as Nia enters her classroom. And today i stood thinking how proud I am of this little child of mine – her intelligence, her articulation….when she turns and yells: “Mamma you are very fat, please eat healthy food so that you don’t die”

Me – totally mortified! It’s not what you want to hear when you are standing on the road with a handful of parents AND her teachers around. So turning all blue, purple, red I try to slink back into my car – when again I hear her voice calling out again “And Mamma thanks for communicating with me”

Sigh!

Music & friends make the world go round!

2008-08-31T08:11:00.004+05:30

Life seemed quite a drag last few months (reflected also in complete abstinence from blogging). Until yesterday - when i experienced a modern day miracle! A bollywood movie - ROCK ON - that touched my heart. I said a small prayer thanking the universe for a good life and good friends!

i am not going to critique that movie - there are enough people out there doing it. All i will say is to everyone who reads this blog (if ever) please do go and watch the movie. and if you can swing it - watch it with friends & family with whom you have shared your dreams. I watched the movie yesterday with two of my best friends - i promise the experience will be different....

So there are really two things that the movie did to me:

I need to say I am sorry. Life's been pretty good to me so far but i am also deeply aware that along the way, i have hurt some people. Some i know and some i probably will not even know. And i am sorry. I truly am. It’s not like i want some kind of a dramatic reunion. i also am pretty sure that people i have wronged would never even read this blog. The apology is my own little way of acknowledging to my life that i am sorry i blew up - several times over. and i do hope that i have the wisdom not to do it again (or atleast have the sense to not wait too long before i say sorry)

Second one -though seemingly small but will have a more direct impact on my life - saying NO to music piracy. In my work with children, i find myself turning to the net for songs and given the limited accessibility to resources here, i find myself downloading quite a few free mp3s. No more. I promise.

So here's the new reformed me - saying Life is good! Stay in touch with your friends, follow your dreams. And finally, buy music and Rock on!

Service at Your Doorstep

2008-06-12T11:00:00.005+05:30

One of the huge advantages of living in an independent house in Indian Cities - a variety of fruits, vegetables, etc, at your door step! This vendor here has a combination of fruits & flowers - possibly what the lady of the house would need for her daily prayers. And don't miss the solitary corn in the middle (possible placed for good luck!).

Many such colourful sights delight me through the day. Not just the quality of what these vendors get but also their sense of timing. Like tender coconut water as early as 7 in the morning followed by fresh green and fruits & vegetables until 10. This is then followed by another round of fresh fruits & vegetables through the evening. The day ends with the petite flower-lady delivering garlands of fresh buds for the next morning's puja as late as 8 in the night. And along with the long garlands made for the puja, there's a small string kept handy for my little daughter who always insists on helping the flower-lady put the basket back on her head!

Customer service at its best.....let's see Reliance Fresh beat this!

Leaving on a Jet Plane

2008-06-07T05:41:00.003+05:30

After a really long time, i travelled by air. Some work came up in Delhi - a good 1000 miles away from home. There was a time, when i first started working, that flying by air for me was the best perk my job offered! And the whole magic was being at the same level as the clouds and also getting a closer aerial view of the two cities - point of origin and destination. It used to be the most exciting exploration to guess the places - from apartment complexes to historic monuments as land drew closer.

Ah! one of those warm memories from childhood - my siblings and me all under 10, eagerly awaiting dad's return from the US - maybe it was his first trip abroad and so the excitement. and more that the goodies that would be in store for us - i remember the three of us discussing how our building would appear from the skies and if dad would spot it. We even waved out at every airplane that flew past our little 3-storeyed structure that day - you know, just in case! Those days most apartment complexes around our neighbourhood were not higher that 4 floors, except for this one building which had maybe around 15 floors. And we were sure that dad would spot that apartment complex from his window and then like a modern day Charles Lindbergh, locate where his children were! So FINALLY, when he walked thru the door, we all bombarded him with questions about how our building looked from the skies and when he said there was no way he could have seen it -we go 'yeah, but you surely must have seen that tall one there'. and when dad replied in the negative, we all rather smugly concluded that he might have dozed off and is unwillingly to admit it! I mean how can ANYONE not see a 15-storeyed building from the sky!

That was a long time ago and now i know. But i still try to trace desperately where my home is, where friends live based on significant landmarks when I fly. But that is where the magic of flying ends for me. Now, I am unable to handle the quickness of the transition from one place to another - be it while leaving home or even while leaving the other place. Its like you are this tree on land, making your own personal connections with a place, the people there, the sights, the sounds - and then poof! you are abruptly uprooted from there and then have to strike your roots in another place. In between safety procedures and rather efficiently packed snack trays, i feel i hardly get any time to delink myself from source A and also re-enter the life in Source B. i experience jetlags even in 1 hour domestic flights - more for the effort it takes to readjust to a very different world than the body clock bit of it!

Train travel is what i would rate the best among options i have. The gentle rocking, the soft sounds, the closeness to earth and the beautiful landscapes she has to offer. The transition is a lot gentler – I slowly say my goodbye to the source city and as slowly get to say hello to my destination. Fast but not too fast; long but not too long. The transition is supported by not just the changing landscapes, but also the gradually changing yummy eats that station vendors have to offer. and i never get to chill in life as much as i get to while on a train journey! hmmm!

In our discussions with friends, we often talk about how gadgets that we saw in sci-fi movies and our all time-favourite Star Trek, have now become part of life. Like the cellphone for instance. And then the thought that soon travel would get revolutionised as much - pretty soon we would get to the "Beam me up, Scotie!" days. Now how will i ever survive that?!

Small Wonder

2008-05-17T07:50:00.004+05:30

What happens when a baby is born?

Yesterday, very good family friends of ours had their baby daughter and I spent a large part of my day in the hospital with them. And as I soaked in the beauty of this “zero-day old” baby and the absolute miracle of this birth, I couldn’t helped but notice how different a day becomes on an occasion as blessed as this.

Invariably the parents’ profiles are studied in great detail – whose ears, whose nose, whose forehead has the baby inherited. I have known both the new mom and dad for the last 10 odd years, but I swear I never starred at their noses as hard and as long as I did at the hospital yesterday!

We jump to typecast the little wonder! Oh she definitely looks like her brother! Ah! What long lovely fingers –definitely will grow to be an artist! A Taurean – gosh you better watch out!

A lot of back and forth conversations on how will life be from now on – hypotheses, opinions, advice free flowing and everyone, except the new parents, feeling quite smug that life ahead looks great!

A slowing down of sorts – friends, families arrive. Waiting for a glimpse of the baby (and then of course all the classifying starts all over again!) A friend even landed at the wrong hospital in her excitement! More importantly, the visitors linger on – maybe just five more minutes. No errands to run, no phone calls to attend to. And other than the new father, not many seemed to be concerned about the traffic outside! It’s a day to stop and marvel!

As for me, I have this real strong urge to be nice to everyone (don’t remember the last time I handed out so many warm smiles and thank yous to people around!) I feel like cleaning up the earth to make it more ready to hold this little baby and honour this blessing! And I swear, things around me look a lot brighter and nicer already!

Thank you, little one, for being part of my world and sharing this wonderful day with me :)

Sleepless in Siliconcity

2008-05-14T21:53:00.005+05:30

Of late i have started to catch this pattern in my behaviour – i am unable to just drift off to sleep at night or even allow myself to simply not do anything. Honest to God, my work is quite exhausting – thanks to inexhaustible kids i work with through the day! And yet there is this real odd kind of restless as my head hits the pillow. Its doubly hard because on most days, my husband and daughter sleep under three minutes from the time the night lamp is switched on. And i get up and frantically browse through my well-stocked library looking for some book that will soothe away the anxiety and lull me to sleep.

Tonight i watch myself as i search for just the right book to read and see a deep reluctance i seem to have to simply be with my thoughts. In the dead silence of the night – i see myself running away from the questions that pop up, desperately seeking answers. And tonight i tell myself – let's stay with the questions....

Was i unduly harsh on my daughter today?

Am i being sensitive to the people i work with?

Am i pushing off my demons onto other people around me?

Am i doing enough or too much or too little for people i value?

Am i drifting away from people i value?

Why is it such a scary thing for me to think and act more independent?

How much to hold on to and how much to let go?

Did i say NO too many times to the kids i work with?

How come i seem to criticize more than appreciate?

Am i being honest with myself when i say "everything’s just fine"?

Am i being too dramatic?

Can i give up on being emotional and yet feel passionate about things in my life?

Will there be enough water in the world by the time my daughter becomes an adult?

Is my world safe?

Why is fairness in any situation so hard to get?

Will i ever look at myself in the mirror and love what i see?

Will i ever learn to let go of the past?

Is it too late to dream?

And as these questions start to untangle and get organized in this space, I feel an odd sense of peace. Maybe i will never find the answers but i do know now that these questions just don’t keep me awake – they keep me alive.

P.S. Last question for the night - Is blogging a better substitute to reading?

Dancing blues

2008-05-08T09:30:00.000+05:30

Act 1 Scene 1 – time 6:00 PM –At Home – quality time with my 3 year old daughter Nia.
We are watching TV (what else?!) and Nia catches a scene from a recent movie - Jodhaa Akbar - Hrithik Roshan wearing some kind of a crown. Nia’s immediate response “Look Mamma – he is wearing a crown like God. Is Hrithik God?” Fearing the wrath of the 1001 idols of Gods that adorn our house, I shush her. “No sweetheart, he is only playing the role of a king and so he has the crown” But Nia in her heart is convinced – “I think he IS God mamma!” and with great reverence, stands in front of the TV set, hands folded (can't really blame the child can I!!) My typical response where I feel foxed – “go ask your paati (grandmother) about Gods" who coincidentally is in the middle of her evening prayers!

Act 1: Scene 2- Tine 7:30 PM – At a fitness Centre - My first Bolloywood dance class
BIG mistake. To begin with – I am the only 30+ overweight person there. And Bollywood dancing seems to be the code word for “ridiculously fast-paced aerobics” which I wanted to avoid in the first place and hence this class. I feel like Gwyneth Paltrow out of Shallow Hal (except that is is NOT a fatsuit that I am wearing!).Turn in whatever direction, there is a monstrous mirror throwing this depressing scene back at you! Certainly not a good place to be in after my latest resolution to feel good about myself and my body. God! I had no idea Bollywood dancing is such a killer. Anyway, after 32 dislocations and complete exhaustion, I practically roll out of the class, promising myself that I shall try it out for another month before calling it quits! Beginnings of masochism?

Act 1 Scene 3 – Time 10:00 PM – Back at home - getting Nia to bed.
We have this little pillow talk every night – my baby and I - kinda talking about how the day was. As Nia drifts off to sleep, I can hear here little murmur, “Mamma, Hrithik Roshan is not God” I think about Hirthik making his moves on the dance floor and then I think about my own experience of Bollywood dancing. And as I pat my little darling to sleep, I murmur back, “He probably is love, he probably is!”