Got Pulled Over!

After several years in this country, I got pulled over first time this evening. I was driving home from work. My daily commute I have to take a County Road before getting on to the Interstate. The route I take is invariably crowded but today was exceptionally busy with stop and go traffic. I take a detour to avoid the rush hour traffic but I guess a lot of people know about this route too. I was starving, tired, had worked over the weekend therefore didn't catch up on my sleep and also had not slept well last night so again....was DEAD TIRED!!!! Anyway I have to make a right from the County Road onto a local road. It takes forever to get on to that right lane. Normally I patiently wait but this evening I didn't have the patience and gingerly stepped on the shoulder to drive up to the right lane *sheepish look while typing.* The light was red and there were few cars ahead of me who definitely were not making that turn and most importantly the right lane was EMPTY and looked so inviting! Hence very carefully I stepped on to the striped shoulder and went ahead at a speed of 10-15 mph. Yeah people even if I make an illegal turn yet I am a very careful driver! I drove defensively anticipating the move of those drivers ahead of me and therefore did look into the rear view mirror. Just as I stepped on to the right lane, I checked the rear view mirror to see a cop car following me. I was talking to K on the phone and was too scared to tell him what I did. As soon as I made the right turn the cop followed me and I saw the flashing red and blue lights! I told K that I had to go as I needed to concentrate on the road.

Anyway I stopped and a tall rather handsome man walked up to my car and asked for my license and registration. I was a little nervous but keeping my composure asked him, "Is something wrong officer?" He said, "Yes M'am you were driving on the shoulder." I didn't say anything and gave him the required documents. He came up to me and said that he was not going to give me a ticket and that I should be rather careful and not repeat this. He said that he had observed me and noticed how I was gingerly treading across the shoulder. In fact he chuckled while saying this. He then told me that I looked rather tired so he assumed that I wanted to get home as soon as possible. Then he looked at my license and said, "Wow is this where you live? You do have quite a commute. Please drive safely." I smiled and thanked him but was really surprised. Then I realized that sometimes a persons appearance matters a lot. With my serious clothes and glasses I looked more like a boring librarian or a very studious person than a miscreant OR maybe it was just my lucky day. Anyway I am planning to hit the sack rather early this evening and catch up on my sleep.

MORAL OF THE STORY: No matter what do not drive on the shoulder and if you insist on doing so make sure you are wearing glasses and rather boring clothes!

Almost Dying

Help!!! This blog is almost dying. It has been a month and a half since there has been any activity on this blog. It has been more than a year since I started blogging. My first anniversary came in quietly and went completely unnoticed. There were far pressing issues that took my time. I have had an extremely stressful month. It is far too personal to publicly share but everything appears to be sorted out (typing with fingers crossed) now. Also my office has moved so my commute is even longer now. This along with long hours at work and other stressful issues have totally overwhelmed me. I love blogging and love writing funny stories and love interacting with a lot of my online blogger buddies. I hope that I shall be able to resurrect this blog and stay in touch with the wonderful fellow bloggers. Meanwhile please bear with me. I shall visit all your blogs soon!

Tryst with Destiny

Tomorrow....well it is 9:47EST so it is 7:15 AM Indian Standard Time, August 15, 2007. Sixty years ago on this date we made our tryst with destiny. I would like to quote part of the late Jawarharlal Nehru's , our first Prime Minister's address to the nation.....

Long years ago we made a tryst with destiny, and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially. At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance. It is fitting that at this solemn moment we take the pledge of dedication to the service of India and her people and to the still larger cause of humanity......

It has been sixty years since India's independence from the colonial rule of the British. The Indian flag is a horizontal tricolour in equal proportion of deep saffron on the top, white in the middle and dark green at the bottom. The ratio of the width to the length of the flag is two is to three. In the centre of the white band, there is a wheel in navy blue to indicate the Dharma Chakra, the wheel of law in the Sarnath Lion Capital. This center symbol or the 'CHAKRA', is a Buddhist symbol erected around 250 BC. It's diameter approximates the width of the white band and it has 24 spokes, which intends to show that there is life in movement and death in stagnation. The saffron stands for courage, sacrifice and the spirit of renunciation; the white, for purity and truth; the green for faith and fertility. There are rules for the display of the Indian flag. Therefore when I first came to the United States, incidentally I left India on August 15th, I was really surprised to see the American flag displayed on private properties.

To all my American readers, July 4th is typically associated with fireworks, barbecue and drinking beer. August 15th, however, is a "dry day" in India. Dry day does not mean no rainfall or no water or no wetting beds but instead means that no alcohol is sold anywhere in the country as in restaurants, liquor stores etc. Of course there are certain states like Gujarat that are considered "dry" states in India, where alcohol consumption is prohibited (famous last words). India has certain days in the year that qualify as dry days, which includes certain festivals, Gandhi's birth anniversary, Independence day, Republic day etc. Of course that means no alcohol in public places....you could get sloshed at home with your friends! So the warning of dry days means....please stock your bar the previous day and get totally wasted on the "dry" day! With that to all my Indian readers...have a wonderful Independence day!...hic hic hic.

Being Left Handed

I am left handed and as you may very well know that people like me are in the minority. We are only 10 percent. It can be a handicap if you are not ambidextrous. As my mother is left-handed, she has trained me to use my right hand as well. I use my left hand to write but can operate machinery or equipment with my right hand therefore I don't face that much a handicap as other left handed people.

It has been reported that the gene most closely linked to left-handedness has been found. HURRAH!!! Now we, the minority, can peacefully continue our lives but wait a minute....the article also says the gene, called LRRTM1, is also associated with a slight increase in developing certain mental illnesses such as schizophrenia. Didn't we have enough negativity associated with being left handed to learn something additional? I do find relief in the fact that we are not living the 18th and 19th centuries where there were prejudices associated with being left handed! Can you imagine adding left handedness to the other prejudices that still exist in today's world like race, religion, and sexual orientation? Of course the research further states that there is no cause for alarm and that there are many other factors contributing to schizophrenia than being just left-handed. In addition, Australian research published last year states that left handers can think faster than right handed people. Furthermore left handers are able to multi-task, which is an ability I always thought came with being a woman than being left handed.

All my life I have had this experience where say for example I had to write an exam, I would have to request for a desk which wasn't against the wall to my left. When I started using computers in the early nineties, especially the AutoCAD program in DOS (do you remember the dark ages before Windows), it took me a while to get used to a right handed mouse. With the advent of Windows 95, there was an option available to adjust the mouse for left handed people but by that time I had already got used to the right hand one. So one adjusts to life and learns to live with their left handedness. I have lost count of the number of times when random people have mentioned to me, "Oh....you are left handed?" I have always felt like responding, thanks for noticing as I have never realized that typically others don't write with their left hand.

Yesterday I had a meeting with seven people to discuss work. Six of us were left handed. The one person who was right handed was our client and was using our professional service and diverse expertise! Funnily none of us noticed that the others were left handed till the client pointed out that he was a minority in a group of left handed people and that this assured him that he is dealing with a bunch of bright people. To this comment my only response is that appearances are deceptive and there is little utility in stereotyping because I am a complete dolt who piggy-backs on my rather intelligent counterparts!

First Female President

I was supposed to write this post yesterday but got home rather late last night. I am quite tired hence please forgive my typos and probably grammatical errors.

Those who are from India and those who aren't but read newspapers must be aware that yesterday, Pratibha Patil took reins as the first female President of the country. This is a landmark as next month, on August 15th, India will complete 60 years of independence. Last night Jay Leno made a crack about this by saying that India has the first female President and George W called India not to congratulate her but that he had a computer query. It is funnier when Leno says this than I recollecting and typing the punch line.

First of all the role of the President of India is largely ceremonial based on the model of the British monarchy. On the other hand the Prime Minister is elected by the electorate. Our first female Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi, was elected in 1966. She was in power from 1966 till her brutal assasination in 1984, except of course the dark era of Emergency and the subsequent change in rule. So there is no big deal that there is a woman President. Does anyone even remember who all the President's were since the first President, Rajendra Prasad and the last President A P J Abdul Kalam? So incidentally this position is largely ceremonial and if I may say so, a token post. In fact this particular nomination has been riled with controversies as well which I don't want to get into especially since I am a simpleton with no aptitude for politics.

The BBC website states that her supporters suggested Mrs Patil's election would prove to be a landmark for women in a country where millions routinely face violence, discrimination and poverty. I take an exception to this assumption that this would empower women as incidentally India is a culture which worships women. There is this concept of worshipping Lakshmi (Goddess of wealth) and that a birth of a girl child should be treated like the arrival of Lakshmi in the parent's home and the newly wed bride is called "Griha Lakshmi" as she brings wealth into the house of the in-laws. Yet in parts of the country sex selection is being practiced where female foetuses are being aborted and there are dowry deaths as well. There are laws to protect women yet they are treated as secondary citizens. Therefore as this exalted status of women is just a token and not practised therefore it is hard to believe that a token female President would change this in any way and would aid in empowering women. Most importantly the status of women did not change drastically since the election of the first female Prime Minister 41 years ago!

PS: I would also like to note that India is a paradox and it would be incorrect to paint it with broad strokes of generalization. The status of women is more a socio economic situation which is not going to change overnight! Also women in urban and upper middle class situations are most certainly not disadvantaged or face the proverbial glass ceiling. Case in point being CEOs like Anu Aga, Lalita Gupte of ICICI etc.

DMV

Those of you who live in New Jersey already know this but those who don't live here might be aware that in Jersey one has to get their vehicles inspected every two years. This is required pursuant to the 1990 Clean Air Act. Jersey being such a tiny state and so densely populated, I think, this requirement is a good thing. I am however not certain how efficient measure it is. Anyway like a true Jersey resident all I can say is "You gotta do what you gotta do. There ain't nothin' that you can do about it."

According to the DMV website, this is what they do:

• The inspector will determine your car's engine type and prep it for testing.
• Your brakes' suspension, steering, wheel alignment and safety features (headlights, taillights, tires, horn, windshield wipers and turn signals) will be checked.
• The inspector will perform the appropriate emissions test based on the year, make and model of the vehicle.
• The final stage of the test will assure that your gas cap is stable and limits the escape of fumes into the environment.
• Upon completion, the inspector will place a new two-year sticker in your windshield

That sounds fairly straight forward and simple, doesn't it. But no, nothing is simple or straight forward in life. If you don't know this then you are living in a vacuum and please may I join you there. So on friday evening, I take my car to the inspection facility hoping that all is well and that I will pass the test with flying colors. I have terrible test taking skills so I am always nervous. This friday however I was cheerful and life could not have been better. I pulled in the facility in Mercer County. There weren't that many cars so I was pleased as a punch. In fact they called me and few others into the reinspection line, which is a seperate one than the one for cars being inspected for the first time in two years.

I pulled in, the guy checked my registration, license and insurance policy and asked me to step out in the waiting area, which is air conditioned. The temperature was in the lower 80s but the waiting area was freezing cold. After a 15 minute wait I am informed that my car failed the test for safety reasons because apparently the rear braking was uneven. I look at my car like a parent would look at their errant kid when he/she screws up in the school exam. The inspector informed me that some minor work was required and that I had 45 days to get it done. I really didn't have the patience to wait for 45 days so instead called my mechanic right then. I had got some brake work done a month ago to the rear brakes and informed him so. Of course he didn't remember me or my name despite being from India (Gee I wonder why!) and asked me to come in first thing in the morning. So last morning, when it was nice and sunny, I took my car to his facility at around 8:00 AM. He fixed the problem within 45 minutes and assured me that I should pass the test.

Anyway I reached the Inspection facility about 9:30 AM and drove through the seperate reinspection lane. I was very confident and knew that my car will pass with flying colors. Well, it didn't and failed the inspection because the rear brake light was not working. I asked the insepctor that I had come to the same facility less than 24 hours ago and why they hadn't noticed it at all then? He told me, "My bad....they probably missed it. You know that you have 45 days to rectify this." I am seething but keeping my calm tell the guy to please check if anything else is missing because I didn't intend to make it a habit to spend all my time in this facility over and over again! The guy was embarassed and told me to run to Sears, which is located literally next door to get the bulb.

I went to the Sears Auto Center and found that there was a long line with probably just one person in attendance. All I needed was one small bulb, which I was going to replace myself. I went to the aisle and noticed a small booklet explaining what type of bulb would work depending on the make and year. I did not find anything for my car. I saw an employee walk by and requested him to guide me. He said that I should wait in line, which incidentally had six people waiting ahead of me, and someone would then tell me what bulb I would need! Of course I walked out of the store sans the bulb and decided to go Autozone, which is located a couple of miles away. I walked in the store and noticed that were a few people waiting but there were quite a few very helpful attendants as well. I was not sure which bulb would be the correct one so took whatever I thought might work to the checkout lane. The cashier very efficiently pointed out the correct one for my car. I replaced the bulb rather quickly, as thanks to K, I had a swiss army knife in my glove compartment, which incidentally has a screw driver as well. K had kept this in the glove compartment in case I ever needed it. I never required to use it until last morning so I made a mental note to thank K for his thoughtfullness.

So I returned to the facility at around 11AM and found that there was a rather long line of cars waiting for inspection. All of them were first timers! I wanted to get on to the seperate lane but found that the idiot waiting before me, was plonked right in the middle of a two-lane driveway! I was in no mood to sound the horn and ask him to move because that doesn't work with Jersey drivers. So I negotiate gingerly next to this moron, who is playing music rather loud on his system, partly into the grass and dirt hoping that my wheels don't get stuck! Luckily the other drivers are better and have parked in the their lanes, so I finally got to the reinspection lane. The inspector recognized me because as soon as I pulled in, he said "Hey I noticed that your brake lights are working just fine now so don't worry I shall replace your sticker right away. You might have to wait though because there are two cars ahead of you." I gave him the most beatific smile I could manage and thanked him. He promplty replaced the sticker and apologised for the trouble. I smiled and thanked my stars that I have to inspect my car every two years. Therefore I should be fine until July 2009 and not have to deal with the DMV, of course unless my license expires prior to that.

Summer Cocktails

I had a very long day today and right now I am unwinding with a fuzzy navel. This is such an excellent summer drink and is so refreshing. In case you don't know the ingredients or the recipe here goes:

Fuzzy Navel

3 oz. Peach Schnapps

3oz. Orange juice.

Of course this is stirred and not shaken. It is served in a highball glass with lot of ice. Speaking of cocktails let me share two other favorite summer cocktails.

Blue Lagoon


2 shots Vodka

2 shots Blue Curacao and

Top this with Lemonade. Garnish with lemons. This is also served in a highball glass

Peach Martini

2 oz. Vodka or Gin or White Rum

2 oz Peach Schnapps

Mix the two in a shaker with ice. Strain into a martini glass. Garnish with a thin wedge of peach. I also prefer cherry garnish as it renders a cool color to the drink.

Like they say in all alcohol commercials....please drink responsibly and do not drink and drive. Cheers!

American Visa

My blogger buddy Lotus has reviewed a book titled "American Visa," by Juan De Recacoechea, which you can read here. It reminded me of the time I had applied for my student visa to come to the U.S. for my graduate school. I had to go to the Consulate in my city. At that time it was really chaotic as one had to go there at an unearthly hour and wait in a long line. Then they would let a few people go into the building where one had to go through the arduous security screening, much worse than airports, to finally get into the room where they conducted a visa interview. The interviewers were on the other side of a window pretty much like the ticket windows you see at the subway stations in NY or the NJ Transit Ticket windows. It is high time they have vending machines for the visa applicants like they have for tickets at train stations.

I remember our driver had taken me to the Consulate at an unearthly hour. On reaching there I noticed that there was a huge crowd of people who had come from outside the City and from other parts of the country, patiently waiting in line. There were stalls outside selling water, cold beverages and even snacks! Then there were a few enterprising people who had set their tables and chairs to sell bank drafts in the event that the visa applicants had forgotten to get the requisite amount. I couldn't imagine anyone doing that but was surprised to find that quite a few people were buying the drafts from them. I think the way these visas get denied, this non-refundable fee must be providing enough revenue, not just to support the personnel and other overhead expenses but also to make a handsome profit (I don't know but I am just guessing).

So anyway I went through the painful wait along with the oppressive monsoon heat while G, our driver, was napping comfortably in the car. I must tell you at that very moment I had wished that he were applying for the visa and I was napping in the car, without any care, instead. Finally I was ushered in and went through the security check and into the room where they interviewed people. After about an hour or was it two hours.....I cannot remember....they called my token number to the window.

The guy who interviewed me had such a thick accent and might have been from the deep south. I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. He asked me a lot of questions and I kept asking him to repeat himself while struggling to hear him across the glass window. I was tired, hungry and so bored and the guy was making it worse by asking me totally ridiculous questions. Finally I told him that I didn't understand a word and that if he didn't want to grant me a visa, he shouldn't be wasting my time. He looked at me totally shocked and said that I am supposed to convince him that I can afford to go to the U.S. He told me that since I am not answering these questions properly he was forced to deny and that I should apply again. So I went back home totally confused as to what was so hard to understand from all the documents that I had given him to review. They looked pretty clear and self explanatory to me and thought that someone who interviews visa applicants for a living should have known this by now.

Anyway I went back after three days and went through the whole routine and was finally ushered in the room with the ticket windows....oops.....visa office. Since I was applying for the second time, I along with a few other people, had to wait and after about three to four hours I was called to the window. This time the woman had very clear speech and asked me where I was planning to study. I answered and she smiled, wished me luck and told me to go and pay my fees. That was it, the interview was over in less than two minutes. Now couldn't the first guy have done that instead of wasting my time and money?

I must tell you though that I entertained myself watching other visa applicants and wondering about their lives. I also noticed some of the visa guys gloat over crushing some poor blokes dreams of going to America! It has been quite a few years now but I still remember it so vividly.

Surviving in a man's world

I am in a profession which is predominantly male. Of course my previous avatar as an architect was essentially in a male-dominated profession in a country which is perceived in the West as typically patriarchal. I have never felt limited or conscious of my gender at all. Perhaps this could be due to the fact that growing up my father was such a positive influence in my life. I owe a lot of things to him and have always been a daddy’s girl. He always made me believe that I can achieve whatever I wanted and that nothing mattered as long as I was determined and worked hard.

When I started working as an architect in India, I was the only female professional in my office. There were other women there but they were support staff. After a year of working, I was given my own project to manage. Of course this came to me by default. The firm had moved to this very swanky office building that the architect was building. When the building was almost complete, his eccentric associate moved there on site with just one draftsman and two architects, which included me. The remaining staff was at the old office. One morning the architect needed someone to quickly design something for the client based on his concept sketch. I volunteered to do it and worked non-stop to complete it. I had the drawings ready by about 8:30PM in the office, two hours after the normal office hours, when the architect walked in. He was surprised to see that apart from the cleaning people, I was the only one working and that the rest of his staff had gone home. Before that the architect always thought that I was killing time working for some pocket money till my parents got me married! So when he realized that I was serious about my career, he offered me this project to manage. Before that I had worked for him for a year and he didn't even know my name!

It was a substantial sized project for me as a young architect but rather small for him because he is an eminent architect in India and his clientele included who’s who from the country. I had to deal with a lot of bias on site because they were not used to taking directions from a woman, especially someone so young. One day the client, being a very traditional Indian man, complained about the fact that my boss was sending a “mere woman” to the site. My boss was furious and gave him an earful about his gender bias and told him that I was better than the ten male architects in his office! Of course since the architect's name and projects have a lot of prestige associated with it, he pretty much dictated terms to his clients no matter who they were. Therefore this particular client had no choice but to accept me as the project architect. Later the client was proved wrong and funnily wanted me to mentor his “poor little rich girl” daughter who wasn’t motivated in life, which is a totally different story. Anyway I was furious at that time, for one because I was in my twenties and had led a very sheltered life and didn’t know what gender bias was until then.

Later I married K, who like my father has always let me be and we have a relationship based on equality. I had completely forgotten about this incident until last morning. I am in the U.S. for the past seven to eight years, two of which were spent in graduate school. I currently have a female boss. Incidentally she is a year younger than me, has had an Ivy League education and is incredibly smart. A client complained to her that he didn’t want me to work on his project and preferred a male who wasn’t a foreigner! She was livid and told the person that how dare he make such lame comments to her and that he had no choice in the matter. She told him that I was not just qualified to work on the project but was in fact over-qualified. She told him that he had no credibility and to not waste her time with such nonsense! When she told me what transpired, this time around I was not livid at all but felt pity for the man. In fact I burst out laughing at his ignorance and even made jokes at his expense. I have reached a conclusion that no matter where you go in the world there will always be losers like that who unfortunately make a fool of themselves by putting their foot in their mouths. Such people deserve pity or perhaps not pity as much as a kick in some place rather painful!

Lost in Joisey

Have you ever watched Chevy Chase’s movie National Lampoon’s Vacation and thought to yourself that it was so far fetched to even be true, especially the scene when they get lost in the desert in Arizona. You must be wondering where I am going with this story, trust me, I do have a story. A few days ago I was driving to work. Quite like this morning it was a nice crisp morning, the birds were chirping, the air was romantic but of course I was going to work! There is nothing romantic about going to work and basically doing geeky stuff.

I usually take this particular Interstate for about 20 miles and then take the County roads. As I slowed down on the exit ramp, which incidentally curves rather sharply, I saw this woman standing beside her car waving furiously. It was about 7AM and she looked like she was dressed for an important meeting or a job interview. She looked completely distressed. I had cranked my window open so heard her scream “Please stop….please stop and help me.” She almost ran in front of my car which freaked me out but like a Good Samaritan I stopped to ask her what was wrong? From her accent, she appeared to be a foreigner though not from my part of the world or continent. She asked me where this particular interstate led. I said that she was traveling to the east and that it eventually led to the Jersey Shore. She panicked and said that she wanted to go to Connecticut! I told her that she was driving in a totally wrong direction. At the same time I checked in the rear view mirror to see two cars waiting behind me rather patiently. I told her to move away so I could pull into the shoulder to allow the other cars to pass and not get delayed like yours truly.

So then I told her that she had to take the NJ Turnpike but that she missed that exit and she had driven almost 15 miles in a different direction. While I was explaining how she could continue and take the northbound Garden State Parkway which eventually met with the Turnpike in North Jersey, she looked past me and loudly yelled, “Don’t worry I am only asking for directions.” I looked through the side view mirror to see an unmarked cop car with flashing lights parked right behind my car. The cop got out of the car and asked me if something was wrong. I told him that she was lost and she had stopped me to ask for directions. The cop smiled and told me that he thought from a distance that we had an accident and that the other woman was aggressively intimidating me! At that very moment, the cop and I asked her simultaneously, “Where are your maps?” She explained to us that she had her windows open and the printouts of the route map just flew out of the window and she didn’t have her bearings and being out of state had no idea where she was! So I requested the cop to give her proper directions so I could leave. The woman was so overwhelmed that she told the cop, "This lady is an angel….was the only one who stopped to help….God Bless you etc.” (I said to myself….stop you are embarrassing me but do go on)

After I left I couldn’t stop laughing and called K to tell him what happened. For some reason that woman’s predicament reminded me of Chevy Chase in that movie. K’s first reaction was that I shouldn’t randomly stop like this as it might not be safe as I didn’t know who the woman might be. I replied that it was 7:15 AM and from her overall appearance that woman, wearing a business suit, clearly didn’t look like someone who would mug commuters!

Moral of the Story: It is worth investing in a GPS System if your car doesn’t already have one OR the cheaper aternative would be to not roll down the windows on a windy day!

Biking

After almost two weeks K and I took our bikes this evening to the park. We went late at around 7:30 PM and biked for about 10 miles. It was a glorious evening with the temperature around 65 degrees. We were wearing track pants and a jacket. Everyone was dressed similar to us except this group of extremely fit cyclists who looked like Lance Armstrong’s clones and probably were training. That was a very nice sight and so easy on the eye…of course my eye. Poor K didn’t have much eye candy this evening.


This evening was such a welcome change weatherwise from the heat wave two weeks ago. We were in the park then and I saw this guy jogging shirtless with very short shorts. He was pale and peeling and had such a flabby body. It was the most disgusting sight I had ever seen. He reminded me of the Seinfeld episode of “bro.” He needed to be jailed for indecent exposure. Perhaps he could be Paris Hilton’s cell mate. That would be punishment for both albeit a more severe one for Poor Miss Rich Girl. The media needs to give the poor girl a break….like all she did was like get a DUI or something and like drive with a suspended license. She probably thought that "suspended" was some new hot accessory like suspenders, which by the way aren't hot except only when Larry King wears them!

By the way for someone as shallow as Paris, it is “so not hot to see someone so like faaat” while for the guy….well perhaps not so much a punishment for him except of course if he is a language nazi and has to face Paris’s severely limited vocabulary consisting of exclusively expressions such as, “that’s hot” “that’s not hot” “it so like not hot.”

By the way I cannot understand why people who are not in the best of shapes like to show off their flab. Is there is secret competition as to who is flabbier or has the most cellulite? Is there an award for it and is it any good? If so, someone please let me know because I may stand a chance too.

500 Years of Women in Art

This short video, obtained from Youtube, is an animated compilation of potraits of women from the West over a period of 500 years and as captured during the different Art movements, starting from Renaissance and ending with Cubism and Surrealism.

My boring life

A few days ago on my morning commute I was listening to this piece on NPR about a war widow who lost her husband last year in Iraq. She moved with her child to her late husband’s hometown in New Hampshire. She spoke about how she kept his memory alive and made quilts out of his shirts etc. It moved me to tears and I started crying. At the signal a car pulled beside me and the guy was staring at me with a very quizzical look. At that time I realized that it must be really strange to see a grown woman behind the wheel, dressed clearly to go to work but crying like a child. Maybe I am a petulant child who still refuses to grow up. Who knows? By the way, I hate commuting and would rather prefer telecommuting at least once a week. Given the soaring gas prices and the associated price hikes; in my opinion this would be an environmentally as well as an economically win-win situation.

Speaking of driving, I must tell you that people in Jersey even after the governor’s horrible accident and miraculous recovery, haven’t learnt their lesson. They still drive like maniacs. Just the other day I was driving to work when some idiot in a sedan changed lanes without looking and caused a pick up truck to drive off the freeway into the grass median separating the east bound and west bound traffic. Thank God it was a grass median and hence a very horrible accident was averted. I was an eye witness albeit at a VERY SAFE DISTANCE. I slowed down to let the poor guy enter back into the freeway, when the idiot behind me slammed on his horn. In case you are curious, I had gradually slowed down to 65 mph from 75 mph…IN AN 65 mph ZONE!!!!! Then the ass flips a bird at me and zooms off only to be stopped by the cops for speeding….AHHH SWEET REVENGE!!!! Being a daily commuter I kind of know where the usual hiding places are and there are a whole lot of them on that particular stretch. These days they don’t drive the typical cruisers, but instead I have seen a few SUV’s patrolling the highway. By the way the guy, who flipped the bird at me, looked like a love-child of Rosie O’Donnell and Donald Trump. In fact I am not even certain about the gender as it seemed very ambiguous….like the character in one of SNL’s sketches.

So then I got off the freeway on to the County roads with a posted limit of 50 mph. I was doing around 60 mph when I noticed a cop car make a turn and follow right behind me. I panicked and slowed down to exactly 50 mph and actually turned cruise control on, a function I seldom use! If you are driving through safe towns where the cops have nothing to do but hand out speeding tickets like they were going out of fashion, it makes sense to use cruise control. I am followed by the cop for at least 10 miles and then he makes a turn….YIPEEE.

Most of the times I am in the zone and talking to my husband, not anything romantic but mundane stuff like, “We need to clean up our place,” OR “We really need to cook these days,” etc., sometimes I am complaining about how things suck while other times he is complaining about how I suck, which makes me tell him how the whole world except him sucks! So this has been my life so far. How about you? Anything exciting you might want to share in the comments section…..please do….this way I can live vicariously through you.

Noo Joisey...you dunno nothin' about it

This is an old photo and as you all know that Corzine is the present governor who had a horrible accident last month and is now convalescing.

New Jersey gets such a bad rap from the rest of the country. When I got a job here, I used to be teased by quite a few of my classmates from grad school that I will be moving to “The Garbage State” instead of “The Garden State.” I think this phrase is due to the industrial sites located close to New York, which are such a part of the landscape of North Jersey. I chose to work here because there are quite a few urban planning initiatives in this State (after California). I hate writing anything about my work or profession on this blog as it is supposed to be irreverent and a platform to pen my thoughts. Besides I am not really all that smart to have anything intelligent to say or write and I don't want any of my readers to know that.

Anyway I had to work this Saturday morning. I know it sucks but it is a choice I have made so I am not going to complain at all. I had to drive to South Jersey for a meeting. As per Mapquest I could have taken two interstates but instead of following a route that is like the two sides of a triangle, I preferred to take the diagonal, which were two County roads. Who knew that the boring elementary school geometry would have such practical applicability? Anyway I woke up early in the morning and drove a total of 100 miles. At this time I could go on about lack of public transit and the environmental costs of driving but then again I really don’t want to bore anyone with all this nonsense.

It was a beautiful morning and was such a wonderful drive; I passed a winery, few farms, stalls selling fresh produce, horse farms, lush green expanse of lands and then the beautiful New Jersey Pineland areas. South Jersey is such a contrast to North Jersey. The people are lot friendlier, laidback and also drive very slowly, which can be annoying especially when you have to reach on time and have to follow a Sunday driver on a two lane highway, waiting for the two solid yellow lines to become a single dashed line! A lot of people were on their bicycles and from their overall appearance seemed like serious riders. Although there are road signs, you have to pay close attention in order to not miss your turns.

Last month I went to that part of Jersey for the first time with my coworker. He came along with me to introduce me to the people as I am a brand new addition to this company. We decided to drive together in my car and I had taken all the directions and maps. Since I was behind the wheel, I told him that I preferred taking the back roads and that he might want to navigate. We had never spoken to each other during office hours so were more like nodding acquaintances. We started chatting and found that we had a lot of things in common. We were so engrossed in our conversations that both of us missed a turn and got lost and landed up middle of nowhere but had so many maps in my car that we managed to reach our destination albeit five minutes earlier than the scheduled time! We had nicknames for all the landmarks we missed, which were basically a WAWA, a WAWA with a gas station and then a strip mall. I must say Suburbia is a curse that New Jersey hasn’t been able to shake off.

This time, I was by myself and I was very conscious of my skin color in a homogenous white population, so I didn’t want to get lost and hear “Them foreigners don’t know no American roads.” I am just joking; no one ever said that to me. However I have been told this by someone, “Them foreigners with their fancy education come and take our jobs.” Yes, this was said to me four years ago by a burly man with a mullet, a tattoo, flannel shirt, jeans and BO that was accumulated due to weeks of not bathing! I wanted to laugh out loud at the comment but was too scared that he might just punch me in my face. Instead I pretended to not understand no English and needless to say that I am alive to write this post! Anyway I didn’t get lost today and had a wonderful drive as I knew from my previous experience at which Wawa to go through the light and at which WAWA to make a turn to the right.

For some reason this reminded me of the time that K, his friend A and I had taken a road trip to the Southern part of India. We went through all the inside routes of Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka where the milestones were in Telugu and Kannada respectively. Of course none of us spoke any of those languages and none of the villagers spoke any Hindi (India's national language), Marathi (language pertaining to the State of Maharashtra where we belong) or English. Yet we found our way around with them pointing furiously to the left and telling us, “Go right and then straight sir.” I must add that we knew one sentence in Telugu, “Bhassha iley,” which means we don’t speak the language. Of course K knew quite a few colorful phrases which were generously bestowed on the bus drivers and truck drivers depending on the license plates of the vehicles. At that time I looked at my husband with renewed awe because I did know that he could speak quite a few Indian languages but I didn’t know until then that he could cuss….not to mention the fact that he could cuss in so many different languages!

Thai Red curry

I have previously blogged about how much I love Thai food especially their red and green curries. I am a reluctant cook but when I do cook, I absolutely love cooking from scratch as the entire exercise is very therapeutic for me. I hate buying readymade sauces and curry pastes.
Anyway I made the red curry at home and modified the recipe a little for our Indian palate. It turned out quite well and hasn’t lost its original flavor therefore I am sharing the recipe with you.

Ingredients:
1 ½ lbs boneless chicken cut into thin slices

1 cup finely chopped lemon grass (I couldn’t find lemon grass hence opted for the extract that I found in the supermarket. It is the closest that you can get to the fresh ones. I cannot stand dried lemon grass. I used about half the tube as seen the image)

2 onions finely chopped

1-2 green bell peppers

½ tomato, cut into bite-size pieces

1 Japanese eggplant or 2-3 baby eggplants, chopped (leave skin on)

2 cans of coconut milk

1 tsp tamarind


As I couldn't find Thai basil or lemon grass, I used the above versions. It has not compromised the flavor or taste of the curry.

CHICKEN:
Marinate the chicken with thai basil readymade marinade, juice of one-half lemon and salt. Leave it in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes. This is not necessary but I prefer marinating meat to neutralize any odor.

RED CURRY PASTE:
1/2 can coconut milk (reserve the other 1/2 can for later)

1 medium sized cooking onion, quartered

1 thumb-size piece ginger

3 cloves garlic

3 Tbsp. fish sauce (I used Oyster sauce)

1 Tbsp. chilli powder

1 Tbsp. cumin seeds

1 Tbsp. coriander seeds

2 tsp. shrimp paste (I didn’t have this at home so didn’t add it. My experience has been that it does not compromise the flavor at all)

1 tsp. regular dried chilli flakes (I avoided it because neither K nor I can tolerate much hot peppers in our food)

5-6 peppercorns

1-2 tb sp fennel seeds (I couldn’t find thai basil therefore added this, as the difference between regular basil leaves and Thai is that the latter has fennel like taste. A friend of ours, who is a chef in a five-star hotel in India has recommended this to me years ago)

1 Star Anise

1 Cup fresh basil leaves (I couldn’t get Thai basil)

Grind them to a fine paste. I have a grinder for my spices. If you don’t then you could use a coffee bean grinder OR buy powdered version instead of the whole seeds.

METHOD:


I took this picture, as you can see I don't have patience for presentation. Since I went very easy on the red chilli powder, it is not as red as it otherwise would be.

Heat oil in a Wok and add asafetida (excellent digestive and I cannot make any curry without it). Fry the finely chopped onions till they become colorless. Add the red curry paste and the lemon grass and sauté it. Add the vegetables and the chicken and sauté it very well. Add ½ cup of water and leave it to simmer. After about ten minutes, add the coconut milk and the tamarind paste. It takes about 20 minutes to cook the chicken.

Serve it with jasmine rice. Of course we didn't have that but instead used the very aromatic Basmati rice.

We had mangoes with vanilla ice cream for dessert.

Harmless Peck and Foot in the mouth

I am back in the blogging world except that there is nothing to write about. I know this is old news but Richard Gere gave a harmless peck on Shilpa Shetty’s cheek (or rather series of kisses) and Shiv Sainiks got their knickers in a twist. Give me a break….that was the most harmless series of smooches and Shilpa surely was having a good laugh and most certainly didn't appear to mind. Of course I wasn't present there and I am commenting based on the footage that I saw. So who the hell are these morons to care about what two consenting adults are upto? If Shilpa were to protest then it is totally different. Besides compared to all the ubiquitous vulgar item numbers in Bollywood movies, this was totally PG13.

I am most certain all the rickshaws and taxis in Mumbai were told by the Sena to not run for a day in protest. Maybe some over zealous Sainiks vandalized some shops in protest….I don’t know….just guessing here. Aarghh...I remember the dreadful Shiv Sena bandhs when I lived in Mumbai. I think Richard Gere needs to give a friendly peck to all the Sena bigwigs and end the matter peacefully! Why doesn’t Shiv Sena just take a look at all the Sun temples in the country and all the other sculptures in the various architectural heritage sites? Isn’t that a part of Indian culture? What next, cover up all the sculptures in the country?

Speaking of politics, Rahul Gandhi needs someone to tutor him about modern Indian history OR cure him of foot in the mouth disease. The one week that I had so much fodder to make fun of and I was very busy at work. Knowing the Sena and the Gandhi scion, I am certain there will be other occasions.

Will be back soon

I have been really busy at work for the past week. In fact I am also working this weekend....Weekend....what weekend???? Anyway so blogging has taken a back seat. I miss you guys and I am so tired right now that the only alphabet I see is Z.

The good news is that the weather is going to suck tomorrow so I won't feel bad about not enjoying spring!

American Idol

I do not watch American Idol and didn't really care about the show. I do know, however, that American Idol makes an excellent water fountain conversation. The other day at my workplace, I saw a group of people discussing American Idol and complaining about the guy “Sunjee.” Someone wondered where the hell did the name “Sunjee” come from while some other person corrected the others and said that it was “Sanjaaya.” Someone else noticed me and nudged the others and they all dispersed with sheepish grins. I was really curious and wanted to know who this “Sunjee” guy was and therefore that evening tuned in to watch American Idol. I found that "Sunjee" is Sanjaya Malakar. How come there is no big hoopla about him with the desi tabloids, who pretty much cover anything about the desi diaspora in North America?

I thought that Sanjay Malakar was Maharastrian because a lot of Maharashtrian last names have the suffix “kar” which basically translates as “belonging to,” and it is generally a certain village. Like the legendary Indian singer Lata Mangeshkar or the legendary cricketers “Gavaskar” and “Tendulkar,” who all are incidentally Mumbaikar like yours truly. His sister, who also auditioned for the show, is named Shyamali which is another very common Maharashtrian name. Enquiring minds wanted to know so just to be certain; I did some sleuthing to find that he is not a maharashtrian but a bengali from his father’s side. Who knew? Anyway the guy cannot sing to save his life but I think is surviving on the show because of the appeal he has with teenage girls all over the United States.

As an Indian I have been asked a lot of stupid questions from random people like,
“Don’t women get beaten a lot by their husbands in your country like when they don’t get dowry and all?”

I have answered in the past, “No not really but we have a day in the Hindu calendar called “Punchami” which is celebrated nationally as a day where women get punched by men. Men randomly target women, not necessarily their wives and beat them black and blue.”

To my non-Hindu readers Punchami is indeed a day in the Hindu Calendar and means the fifth day after the waxing or waning moon and has got nothing to do with getting punched!

“Don’t women like always wear a red dot?”

I have answered, “Yes they do but only on days they are seeing red.”

These days I don’t have the patience to come up with creative answers and tell people that Wikipedia is a good resource for finding information and “google search” is another useful tool as well.

Therefore I was asked the other day, “Wow that Sanjay Malakar is hawt….like… are all Indian guys hot?” I had a half mind to tell her to check the Edison area in New Jersey and find out for herself!

I told K that it was such a welcome relief to see a lousy but hawt Indian singer on primetime television than seeing perverted desis getting caught at a sting operation, on NBC’s “How to Catch a Predator?”

PS: I am hooked on to Idol now. It is not for the show but to see for how long the miracle that lets Sanjay move on from one level to the other lasts!

What Cartoon Character Are You?

I have nothing to write these days hence I am sharing the following quiz. The Administrative Assistant from my old job keeps in touch with me via email. She is a very nice person and for four and a half years was my "Office Mom." She always sends very interesting and funny emails to me. Most of her forwarded emails make fun of men! There is nothing like making fun of men in your free time. Actually I am a mean and a bitter person who makes fun of everyone in her free time so that I can feel better about my own pathetic life! Anyway I digress....she sent me this email quiz about what cartoon character closely resembles your personality. Why don't you take it and let me know?


Everyone has a personality of a cartoon character.
Have you ever asked yourself what cartoon character do you most resemble?

A group of investigators got together and analyzed the personalities of well known and modern cartoon characters. The information that was gathered was made into this test.

Answer all the questions (only 10) with what describes you best, add up all your Points (which are next to the answer that you choose) at the end and look for your results.

Do not cheat by looking at the end of the e-mail before you are done.


1. Which one of the following describes the perfect
date?
..a) Candlelight dinner (4 pts.)
..b) Fun/Theme Park (2 pts.)
..c) Painting in the park (5 pts)
..d) Rock concert (1 pt.)
..e) Going to the movies (3 pts.)

2. What is your favorite type of music?
..a) Rock and Roll (2 pts.)
..b) Alternative (1 pt.)
..c) Soft Rock (4 pts.)
..d) Country (5 pts.)
..e) Pop (3 pts.)

3. What type of movies do you prefer?
..a) Comedy (2 pts.)
..b) Horror (1 pt.)
..c) Musical (3 pts.)
..d) Romance (4 pts.)
..e) Documentary (5 pts.)

4. Which one of these occupations would you choose if you only could choose one of these?
..a) Waiter (4 pts.)
..b) Professional Sports Player (5 pts.)
..c) Teacher (3 pts.)
..d) Police (2 pts.)
..e) Cashier (1 pt)

5. What do you do with your spare time?
..a) Exercise (5 pts.)
..b) Read (4 pts.)
..c) Watch television (2 pts.)
..d) Listen to music (1 pt.)
..e) Sleep (3 pts.)

6. Which one of the following colors do you like best?
..a) Yellow (1 pt.)
..b) White (5 pts.)
..c) Sky Blue (3 pts.)
..d) Dark Blue (2 pts.)
..e) Red (4 pts.)

7. What do you prefer to eat?
..a) Snow (3 pts.)
..b) Pizza (2 pts.)
..c) Sushi (1 pt.)
..d) Pasta (4 pts.)
..e) Salad (5 pts.)

8 What is your favorite holiday?
..a) Halloween (1 pt.)
..b) Christmas (3 pts.)
..c) New Year (2 pts.)
..d) Valentine's Day (4 pts.)
..e) Thanksgiving (5 pts.)

9. If you could go to one of these places which one would it be?
..a) Paris (4 pts)
..b) Spain (5 pts)
..c) Las Vegas (1 pt)
..d) Hawaii (4 pts)
..e) Hollywood (3 pts)

10. With which of the following would you prefer to spend time with?
..a) Someone Smart ( 5 pts.)
..b) Someone attractive (2 pts.)
..c) Someone who likes to Party (1 pt.)
..d) Someone who always has fun (3 pts.)
..e) Someone very sentimental (4 pts.)

Now add up your points and find out the answer you have been waiting for!



(10-16 points) You are Garfield :
You are very comfortable, easy going, and you definitely know how to have fun but sometimes you take it to an extreme. You always know what you are doing and you are always in control of your life. Others may not see things as you do, but that doesn't mean that you always have to do what is right. Try to remember, your happy spirit may hurt you or others.

(17-23 p oints) You are Snoopy:
You are fun, you are very cool and popular. You always know what's in and you are never are out of style You are good at knowing how to satisfy everyone else. You have probably disappeared for a few days more than once but you always come home with the family values that you learned. Being married and having children are important to you, but only after you have had your share of fun times.

(24-28 points) You are Elmo:
You have lots of friends and you are also popular, always willing to give advice and help out a person in need. You are very optimistic and you always see the bright side of things. Some good advice: try not to be too much of a dreamer. Dreaming too big could cause many conflicts in your life.

(29-35 points) You are Sponge Bob Square Pants:
You are the classic person that everyone loves. You are the best friend that anyone could ever have and never wants to lose. You never cause harm to anyone and they would never not understand your feelings. Life is a journey, it's funny and calm for the most
part. Stay away from traitors and jealous people, and you will be stress free.

(36-43 points) You are Charlie Brown:
You are tender, you fall in love quickly but you are also very serious about all relationships. You are a family person. You call your Mom every Sunday. You have many friends and may occasionally forget a few Birthdays. Don't let your passion confuse you with reality.

(44-50 points) You are Dexter:
You are smart and definitely a thinker... Every situation is fronted with a plan. You have a brilliant mind. You demonstrate very strong family principles. You maintain a stable routine but never ignore a bad situation when it comes. Try to do less over thinking every once in a while to spice things up a bit with spontaneity!





PS: In case you are curious, I am "Charlie Brown." By the way, I don't call my mother every Sunday but call her every other day. I am a family person, which really means that I am needy and lean on to them. I had a lot of friends when I was growing up but I remember each and everyone's birthday and anniversary.

Random Thoughts and a Painting

Last year I picked up painting after a hiatus of six years. I painted very regularly during the entire spring and summer season. I was planning to start oil painting this spring. I can spend hours painting and totally lose myself to that imaginary world. I paint my feelings, anger, frustration and passion. Sometimes I paint my innermost feelings that I cannot articulate in words but it is well articulated in colors and forms. Now those of you who know me are going to start laughing because I talk non-stop, sometimes sense but most of the times nonsense. Anyway I am glad my livelihood doesn’t depend on this because I would have been starving right now. The last painting I did was way back in November of last year.

As I had mentioned earlier I have started a new job and one of the administrative staff member is an accomplished artist. She holds exhibitions and even takes commissions. She has a day job because that offers her a steady income, health and other benefits like 401K. I could go on about health care issues and retirement issues faced by the aging population but then that defeats the purpose of my blog, which is to be irreverent and write inane nonsense. Of course her style of painting is totally different than mine and so are her subjects. I however love her passion for it and the ability to do that ceremoniously every weekend.

Last evening before leaving work she came up to me and asked me if I had done something lately. I told her that I just don’t get into the mood these days and also I don’t have the time. She asked me with an incredulous look that how could I go on without painting? She said that I am wasting my talent by not doing it. I thought about it and realized that out of all my hobbies I have consistently painted. As a child I would paint everyday after I got home from school. My mother had with great affection collected all my work. When I got married, she had given it to my husband who in turn had kept it very carefully in his parent’s home. The infamous 2005 floods in Bombay destroyed all that. I was a little sad then but really didn’t think much about it because I still can paint and the floods did not wipe my ability. Last evening after speaking to the lady at my workplace, I realized that I have taken a lot of things in my life for granted including my art. I always took my parents and my sisters for granted and I realized their value after moving thousands of miles away from them. I have to find time now to paint. I did it last year so why should it change this year. I think it is all about efficient time management. Besides I don’t want to have any regrets later in my life.



I am sharing the above abstract painting that I painted in India several years ago. It was a hot summer day and I was particularly frustrated about a certain situation. I took my colors and randomly painted this piece. At the end of the exercise I was exhausted but my mind was at complete peace.

Movie Review: The Namesake

We went to see the film “The Namesake” this evening. This post is not a review as I don’t claim to be an expert in cinema. I am, however, an admirer of Mira Nair’s work and have seen most of her films. "Salaam Bombay" was the first film of hers that I saw way back in the early nineties, when I was studying architecture, which is based on the street children of my city. Subsequently I saw “Mississippi Masala.” I had absolutely loved her film “Monsoon Wedding,” which was released in 2001. If I am not mistaken, her background is in documentary and her films are faithful to that genre.

I also love Kal Penn who is the main character in this film. The first film that I saw of his, was a small budget film called “American Desi,” where he had a supporting role but really stood out. I also saw his movie, “Harold and Kumar go to White Castle,” which pokes fun at stereotypes. He was hilarious in both the movies and it was very refreshing to see him play a rather intense character in this film.

Moving back to “The Namesake,” this movie is based on Jhumpa Lahiri’s book with the same name. The movie is the story about a Bengali family, the Ganguli family, consisting of Ashoke and Ashima and their two children Gogol and Sonia, and their journey from Calcutta, India to New York and eventually to Boston. Ashoke is played by Irfan Khan and Ashima is played by the incredible Tabu, who is a very talented Indian actress. It spans between the three cities and talks about the conflict of Gogol, played by Kal Penn. Gogol has an identity crises and is trying to find himself. In addition his name “Gogol,” which is given in the honor of the Russian author his father reveres is also the cause of the conflict. There is a story behind it which unfolds as the movie progresses. Gogol dates a Caucasian Manhattan socialite but then eventually marries an Indian-American with the same Bengali heritage. That does not solve his problem either and a family tragedy brings him closer to his roots. The other inter generational conflict is the fact that most expatriate Indians think that their children must marry into their regional and cultural background. Doing that is not necessarily the formula for a happy marriage, which is highlighted by Gogol’s situation. Also the fact that the Indian community is so insular and they socialize only with “their own.” This can be very conflicting for a child who has one life in school and whole other in the parent’s home.

Mira Nair is a sensitive film maker and her films are very poignant and capture intense emotions which are interspersed with such humor. The other thing I have noticed is Mira Nair’s ability to spin her very own special cinematographic magic in her movies. She always shoots on location and paints a very realistic picture of an Indian life. She makes very ugly landscapes and cityscapes look very beautiful. As an artist I see beauty in the old dilapidated buildings, in the crowded streets and in the amalgamation of different cultures that is India so I completely identify with her aesthetic sensibilities.

All I can say is that it was an enjoyable evening and I would definitely recommend this movie to you.

Among Other Things:
There were other things in that movie that I could identify with as Bengali culture is not dissimilar to Maharashtrian culture.

The one thing that I identified the most was with the concept of pet names. Bengalis tend to have two names for their kids, a pet name and a registered name. One of my Bengali classmates had a nickname “Rana” and my friends and I used to mercilessly harass him by calling him “Rana Tigrina,” which is the scientific name of the Indian bullfrog (I know it is not funny at all but it was quite funny at that time. Thank God my sense of humor has matured with age). Gogol is the character's pet name while his registered name is "Nikhil."

My sisters and I have registered names and totally different pet names too. My pet name is rather weird sounding and if translated in America would be considered a "racial slur," when in actuality it is a very common term of endearment in India. Till today my parents, sisters, brother-in-law, and old friends call me by my pet name. Even my 13-year old nephew refuses to call me and my younger sister by the honorific Marathi/Indian term “Mavshi” (which means mother’s sister) and instead calls me by my pet name. For quite some years of my life my pet name overtook my actual registered name and it can be very annoying when acquaintances start calling you by it.

I couldn’t really identify with the need felt by Ashoke and Ashima to hang out with other Bengalis but it is true with a lot of expatriate Maharashtrians as well. When I first moved to New Jersey, my cousin asked me if I joined the “Maharashtra Mandal,” which basically is the cultural group of all Maharashtrians. I said that I did not and he replied that since I don’t have children I might not feel the need. I wondered if it would change when I become a parent but then since K and I never made friends based on ethnicity I don’t think it will ever matter to us.

As an Indian woman who lives in the United States, I couldn’t identify with Ashima perhaps because she belongs to a totally different generation than me. I could however identify with her love for her family in India as I am part of a very close-knit family. Although I live here with my husband and have lived here all by myself as well and despite being well integrated and comfortable with mainstream American society yet I still miss my home and family terribly.

Last but not the least, the character is an architect who gets inspired to study architecture after visiting the Taj Mahal. When I was 13, I visited Agra on a school trip and was completely awe-struck by the architectural splendor of Taj Mahal and Fathepur Sikhri. It sounds very cliched but I attribute my architecture and planning education to that trip!

PS: I also love Bengali sarees and despite being a person who seldom wears sarees I own (K calls it "hoard") quite a few Dhaka, Tangail, Kantha and Baluchari sarees. So I enjoyed looking at all the beautiful sarees as well.

Monsoon in Panchgani

(To maintain anonymity on this blog, I have cropped off my name. This painting belongs to Sai Speak)

I had mentioned in my previous post that I have been cleaning up and organizing my stuff. I found this landscape that I had painted way back in August 1999 in Panchgani, which is a small hill station near Mumbai. This town is a plateau in the Sahyadri mountains that run across the State of Maharashtra. This town runs along the river Krishna. I had painted this early in the morning, using gouache and watercolors. I remember we were staying in a hotel overlooking the river. This was painted on a day when it was raining a lot and the river was very turbulent.

Panchgani is very close to Mahabaleshwar, which is another hill station. Both these small towns were developed by the British and have quaint colonial style architecture. It also has substantial Zorastrian (Parsee) population. This town is famous for their elite boarding schools as well. Speaking of which, one of my father-in-law's friends had their son studying in one of the schools. On this particular visit of ours, the friend was visiting her son as well. We bumped into her by chance and she insisted that we go and see her son and check out his school. K and I made up excuses but she didn't get the hint and literally dragged us to her son's school. The entire time K was grumbling to me about having to meet people and be forced to make small talk and hang out with them. I told him to grin and bear it. But as soon as we reached the school we were totally taken by the beauty of the surroundings. The school is nestled at the end of one mountain range and has the magnificent panoramic view of the mountains. The school had an ampitheatre which took advantage of the natural contours and dropped down to the stage that overlooked into a valley.

Monsoon in Panchgani is relentless. It doesn't rain heavily but there is a constant drizzle and the temperatures go as low as 50F (which is cold given the tropical location!). Anyway so we were at the top of the amphitheater and K wanted to check the view. I told him to not go further because I feared that there might be moss on the steps due to the moisture.

Typical K ignored me and ventured down the steps when he slipped on the moss, went for a toss and went tumbling down the steps. In full view of the principal of the school, our friend, her son and a few of his classmates, K screamed involuntarily "Mother F****!!!!! Oh F***!" The velocity with which he slid down the steps scared the hell out of me and I feared that he might just go over the railing and into the valley. Helplessly I along with the others watched him slide down the steps all the way to the bottom of the amphitheater. Miraculously he pulled himself up with minor bruises and screamed from the bottom of the steps, "Don't worry I am OK." He was fine the only thing bruised was his ego and few scratches on his arm! He was embarassed not only because of his fall but also the fact that he cussed! K rarely cusses and most certainly would watch his language in front of people he doesn't know at all! After ascertaining that he was indeed well I started laughing. I told K that he was concerned about making small talk with his father's friend, but after hearing him cuss and that too in front of her eight year old son, his few classmates and her son's school principal, his father's friend would most certainly not want to socialize with him for a pretty long time!

Spring cleaning....a painting and an anecdote

This year has been quite crazy season wise. It was rather warm in January and we had storm on last friday. Anyway this weekend I decided to clean up and organize my stuff. As I was rummaging through all my nonsense, I found this painting that I had painted about ten years ago.



K's father owns a weekend home by the sea in a small town near Bombay called Alibag. We used to spend go there every other weekends with our friends. His father's house was situated right on the beach but was seperated by sand dunes; therefore you couldn't see the sea from the home but could always hear it. Their house was designed in such a way that there were no proper doors or windows in the living and dining area so anyone could walk in and out! I always used to be nervous about the fact that the house could be easily be broken into but it was close to the village and those who are from that area will know that it is very safe place.

On one of our visits I set out early in the morning with my easel, paper and colors to paint the above landscape. While I was walking back home I saw a cobra slither past me into my father-in-law's property! I stood in my tracks frozen with fear, which was a good thing because I surely would have had a lethal dose of the venomous poison had I reacted. At that very moment I was trying to recollect the first aid tips that we were taught in school in an event of a snake bite. It is one thing recollecting first aid tips for your school test and another thing recollecting while watching a poisonous reptile slither in front of you, whose bite incidentally is very fatal! That night I slept with my one eye open.

Tea

Sanjay mentions “tea” as the Friday word in his blog and has written a lovely poem. I suck at poetry so decided to share an anecdote instead.

I absolutely love tea and once upon a time could drink innumerable cups per day. Those who are from India can identify with the ubiquitous chai-vallas present all over the country. When I joined my architecture program at Sir JJ School of Art, my best friend’s older sister took me under her wing. She took me to the JJ canteen. This place was famous and reminisced by all famous alumni for being the place where they got “inspired.” Anyway it served the most decocted and therefore rather strong masala tea and batatavada with pav. She told me that if my stomach can take that I am ready to face the five years of undergraduate study. I survived that test and spent my five years of architecture eating all the street food in South Bombay. That has worked wonders on my immune system!

JJ’s canteen was run by a very kind gentleman called Laxman who had kids from his village working as chai-vallas. These boys used to go to school at night and work during the day. The architecture building had these two boys, Sitaram and Ramu, bringing in innumerable cups of chai to give us, teetotalers a good caffeine buzz. I for one cannot go without sleep, so survived sleepless nights on hundreds of cups of chai. The vada-pav was so sad and the tea was equally bad yet I got hooked on it. I always used to tease the guys in Hinglish (mixture of Hindi and English), “Arrey Sitaram jara adulterated chai aur vada pav lana,” which translates as please get me some adulterated food from the canteen. Sitaram, barely spoke a word of English but would always give me a beaming smile and say, “Thank you very much Madam,” without even realizing what it meant. Laxman was extremely compassionate with all the students who lived away from home in the hostels. With the rest of us who lived at home he was pretty particular and saw that we paid our chai tabs on time. The kids had photographic memories and would remember how much we owed them and when we ordered what. Despite the fact that we lived with our parents and not in the hostel, we were equally broke as the students living in the hostel.

One year my college hosted the national convention of all architecture schools in India and everyone’s parents came to visit. My parents were not at all interested but I felt so left out. I called them up from school and threw a huge tantrum so they were coerced into attending it! As I showed them around the campus and introduced them to all my classmates, I asked my dad if he wanted to have chai at the canteen. He said “why not” and we walked up to it. At that time I remembered that I had to pay Sitaram and didn’t want my father to know how much I owed. So I told my father, “Never mind, the tea here is rather bad.” At that very moment, cheeky Sitaram ran towards us and asked my father, “Do you want tea?” and ran back with two cups. My dad asked him how much he owed and Sitaram said “Rs. 200.” My father looked at him with a very surprised expression as chai was only Rs 1.25 then. Sitaram then said that I owed them around Rs 200. My dad scolded me as to why I didn’t pay these guys right away. I said that I always paid regularly. So my father asked me that since when was this tab due. I was embarrassed and said that I didn’t remember but the precocious kid Sitaram squealed saying that it was since the previous morning. Then he rattled of how many cups of tea and vada pav I had since the previous morning. My father chuckled and joked that I had an iron stomach to endure all this and not fall sick but my mother gave me one of those looks that makes you want mother earth to open and swallow you! I really wanted to kick myself for even inviting them over. Anyway I learnt my lesson and decided that if my parents don’t want to hang out with me it is just fine by me!

Nothing Substantial to write about

As I mentioned in yesterday’s post I have started a new job. It is a group of companies with different office locations and I work in one of the branch offices. I must confess that on my first day when they set up my computer and email, I checked to see how many desis were working in that company. Then I found, out of how many of those belonged to Maharashtra. I know it sounds pretty provincial but what the hell….enquiring minds want to know. So I started stereotyping to find what they were doing in that company. I found that all desis, including myself, were pretty much doing geeky things. Maybe there is some truth in painting with a broad brush of generalization. I was also pleased to know that there were other foreigners working and I am assuming it is a pretty diverse place. This was such a contrast to my old job where I was the only Indian and foreigner. I was asked a lot of ridiculous questions, which used to annoy me. Sometimes I would make up things just for fun! I would come home and regale K with anecdotes of all the nonsense I have been telling the ignoramuses at my old work place. He always laughs at my imagination and my ability to poke fun at myself! Anyway that’s all I am going to write about my work place, old as well as new.

Anyway on Saturday I took a train to the City at an unearthly hour, to meet one of my dear friends who was visiting the City. I thought I might peacefully nap the entire time. I was sitting in the second car and was peacefully napping until when the train pulled out of Newark International Airport Station. I was rudely awakened by a male voice yelling in the first car, “Hello….Hello can you please not talk on your cell phone. People are trying to sleep here.” The guy had a distinctive foreign accent, to which ethnic group it belonged shall not be disclosed. He continued yelling, “You are not in your living room but in a train….so please SHUT UP.” We did not know whom he was yelling at because we couldn’t hear the other person on the cell phone. Everyone in our car woke up and started looking around for the errant cell phone user. At that very moment, the woman stopped talking on the cell phone and yelled back in a foreign accent, which also won’t be disclosed, “You don’t own this train and it is a free country.” She continued talking on the cell phone and briskly walked towards our car talking in a foreign language with the guy following her and yelling, “Hello hello…how are you??….ha ha ha….what are you doing at 7AM.” By that time everyone in our car were woken by this ruckus and were looking stunned at the spectacle. The guy chased her out of our car and walked back and sat down on an empty seat right in front of me! I thought the whole situation was so funny and wanted to laugh out loud….but couldn’t as I was scared of the cell phone Nazi sitting in front of me. I thought maybe he doesn’t like people laughing too and might chase me out of the car as well! I am completely annoyed by people talking non-stop on their cell phones but just ignore them than make a fool of myself. Like I mentioned in yesterday’s post….there is never a dull moment in New Jersey!

The reason for not blogging

First of all, Sugarlips and Sanjay, thank you very much for dropping a line and finding out how I was faring. I am very well and the reason for not blogging regularly is that I have recently started a new job. Last week was my first week and it is a long commute. So I leave home early in the morning, negotiate Jersey drivers and Jersey highways *rolling eyes* to my new place of work. In case anyone wants to know I can say "F*** Off" in Italian these days! I have longer hours than my previous job and also the commute to my old job was only ten minutes hence I had all the free time in the evening to write. Most importantly, I was so frustrated in my previous job that towards the end I would even blog during my office hours *blushing with embarassment* to cope with the frustration. Hence there were regular posts from me for the past few months.

As I had mentioned earlier blogging is very therapeutic for me. I will still write on weekends and probably a post or two during the week as I enjoy this very much. Yesterday I couldn't write because I left early in the morning to meet my friend, who was visiting New York on business, for brunch. Of course I have a funny story that happened on the train ride to the City which I might blog about in a little bit. All I can say is that there is never a dull moment in Jersey! I am sorry I haven't had a chance to visit all your blogs and shall do it very soon.

Hey Dan, from Dan's blah blah blog, I have a slogan for New Jersey and here it is......
New Jersey: Never a dull moment here!

"Family Matters" by Rohinton Mistry

For the past few days I have been reading Rohinton Mistry’s book “Family Matters,” which was published in 2002. The book is based in Mumbai in the nineties and is a story of a seventy-nine year old Parsee widower who is suffering from Parkinson’s disease. One evening he suffers a fall and is incapacitated due to it. He is living with his two step children who cannot bear the burden of taking care of him. They therefore callously dump him in their half-sister’s matchbox apartment in the city. Although sad the author has written with wry humor and the language is exquisite.

Those who don’t know, Parsees are Iranians who fled religious persecution and sought refuge in India in the 7th Century AD. They escaped to preserve their Zorastrian religious traditions and entered the subcontinent through the western coast of Gujarat. They enjoyed religious tolerance in India for many centuries and prospered under the British rule. They are called Parsees because they spoke “Farsi,” which is the spoken language in Iran. My alma mater, Sir J.J. School of Art was started in 1857 with the benevolence of a Parsee philanthropist Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy. The author belongs to the Parsee community as well.

Zorastrians worship fire as they believe that the energy of the creator is represented by fire or sun. The Parsees are very orthodox and a non-Parsee cannot enter their fire-temples. As a child I was so fascinated by the fire temples and used to ask my Parsee friends to describe the interior of the temple. Having grown up in the city and exposed to Parsee culture, especially their food, this novel appealed to me on more levels than one. While reading the book I imagined the scent of sandalwood, the frankincense burnt in the evening, the aroma of dhansak and patiyo, the rustling of beautiful silk gara sarees worn during their weddings and navjote.

The main protagonist, the aging Parsee widower, had fallen for a non-Parsee woman in his youth. She was of a different faith therefore their romance was met with strict opposition. What follows is a tragic sequence of events, which are started by the religious bigotry and unrequited love! This begs the question as to whether it is worth preserving traditions at the cost of ruining so many lives.

The romance in the novel reminded me of the story of one of my classmates from India. She belongs to the Parsee community and fell in love with a guy who belonged to an equally orthodox Hindu Brahmin community. Of course all through their college years in India they totally hid their romance from their parents. The guy came to the United States to study in one of the Ivy Leagues and soon after made plans for my friend to join him. She came to the United States on a student visa and they both started living together. The news reached her orthodox family who threw a fit. Her grandmother called her up and said “Stop this nonsense and come home right this very instant.” Armed with defiance and courage, a product of the geographical distance and being in love she told her grandmother, “You must be out of your mind.” So the grandmother started emotionally blackmailing her telling her that her actions have caused her heart trouble and many other ailments. My friend was completely defiant!

Her boyfriend (now husband) proposed marriage to her a couple of times but she preferred living with him only to spite her family. Finally they got married, more from an immigration perspective than societal norms, which wasn’t attended by any member of their respective families. Eventually both the families were embarrassed by their bigotry and had a wedding reception in India for my friend and her husband. Of course today everything is hunky dory with both the families but my friend and her husband don’t miss a chance to poke fun at their families!

Movie Night

I saw the movie “Queen” this evening. It is an entertaining film. The movie begins with the election of Tony Blair and is based around Diana’s demise almost ten years ago. It is a rather satirical take on a tragic event. I must say Helen Mirren was outstanding in her portrayal of the Queen. She humanizes the monarch as a person with feelings, trapped in the antiquated traditions of British monarchy with a sense of duty over personal feelings. Prince Philip is portrayed as a complete moron, which might be true. The premise is that the hysteria that surrounded Diana’s death shook the monarchy from its royal stupor and made them loosen the stiff upper lip so to speak.

K and I decided on an impulse to go and see the movie. We caught the 9:30 PM show at the mall. I was craving for an ice cream but since the mall closes at 9PM, I couldn’t satisfy my craving. K suggested that we go to Barnes and Noble bookstore in the mall and have an iced green tea instead. My experience has been that whenever I order it, they invariably screw it up! I always meet a daft person who doesn’t know how to make it. Predictably this is just what happened. When I explained to her how it is made (I have observed others make it and have asked questions), the woman gives me a sheepish grin and says that her customers know how to make stuff than her! I resisted saying to her, “It’s just tea honey, not rocket science.” Better sense prevailed and I gave her a beatific smile instead of sarcasm. By the way I am seriously thinking of quitting my current job and taking up a job as chai latte trainer in Starbucks.

Finally she gets us our chai and we set off towards the theatre, which is at the other end. Since it was a week night we didn’t expect a lot of people but were very nervous to realize that we were the only ones! Initially we nervously glanced over our shoulders towards the exit but were soon at ease. The fun part was we could put our feet over the next row and comfortably watch the movie and talk loudly without anyone shushing us! That made the experience even more enjoyable.

The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai

I had this book sitting on my desk for the past two months and had not got a chance to read it. I happened to finally read it over the weekend and thoroughly enjoyed it. This post is not a review. I have linked two excellent reviews for your reading pleasure; one by NY Times and the other by my blogging buddy Lotus. Kiran Desai's mother Anita Desai is a prolific Indian writer, whose work I had read years ago in India. I was curious about this book for two reasons; one because this book has won the Man Booker prize and the other because I had heard her interview with Terry Gross on NPR's Fresh Air and was quite impressed.

I absolutely love the author's writing. The book has melancholy and sadness in it, which is interspersed with humor and wit. She has wonderfully depicted the different classes of Indian society in post colonial India. Being of the same generation as the author I share a lot of observations with her. Having grown up in a cosmopolitan city like Mumbai (formerly Bombay), which has its share of "brown sahibs," who are Oxbridge educated anglophiles whose formative years were in pre-independance India. Therefore they have a chip on their shoulder and are more English than the British themselves. My generation, however is confident about our Indian identity and can step back and look objectively at such pretentious elitists!

She has also poignantly depicted how poverty and helplessness and a feudal mindset gnaws away the dignity of the lower classes of society. Although the book is set against the backdrop of the Gorkhaland movement, it is not at all political. It is more anecdotal as it describes the effect it had on the lives of the people living along the Indo-Nepal border. One of the characters, Gyan with slight education joins the movement without really identfying with it but more as an outlet to his anger and frustration. Though not directly, I can draw parallels to the religious fundamentalism in India in the nineties, where some impressionable youth fell for the hatred spewed under the name of faith!

She has also described the lives of illegal immigrants in New York, who are lured by the ambition of earning dollars. They live like cattle under inhuman conditions and since they don't have proper paperwork, they are taken advantage of by their employers. In her interview on Fresh Air, she mentioned that she had actually walked into the kitchens of restaurants in New York and interviewed these members of the shadow economy. The book is sad and has honestly painted the grim reality of life in the developing world (I HATE the word "Third World") yet she has beautifully managed to not let the reader feel depressed at the end!

All in all I enjoyed the book thoroughly as you could move those characters out of the colonial town at the foothills of Himalayas and place them in Mumbai (built by the British). It reminded me of quite a number of Bombayites (not Mumbaikars) with their affected accents and cute weekend homes with picket fences, their high teas with dainty cucumber sandwiches and pastries! Their sense of privilege over their servants, who always feel deferential to their employers. Also living in the city are the sons of the soil "Shiv Sainiks" who are against anything that is perceived as "western," without even understanding the philosophy of Hinduism!