Haldi ka tadka

Take the Indian out of India, cant take India out of the Indian. Heard it a million times, but never gave it much thought till today, when I almost set out to prove it.

While I was in India, there never was much pressure to keep myself extremely attached to a community. But after moving to North America, this came naturally to find where the other Indians were, how do they meet, where do they meet etc. The first generation migrants always have this nagging fear of having to face a day when their children change into something they have not been brought up as. So, we try to be close to our roots, our culture, our way of life. The top most in this being religious orientation. We feel that if we organize and attend religious events within the community, children will learn from it and follow.

Spring was just creeping in and we were all gearing up for "spring release" of our lalitha sahasranamam parayanams and vishnu sahasranamam parayanams. Typically we ditch the cooking and child care on the husbands and take out our best sarees and jewellery and set out to meet other decked women to compare notes on where we bought them, how smartly got the husbands to handle home front, how one particular bossy lady needed to be handled , the different styles of cuisines et al till the hostess rounds up everyone to make sure the reason why they gathered got on the way!

Now, some naturally shabby dressers like me who live in jeans and heavily used tees make an effort to changing their appearance at least on such occasions. Added to that, sometimes, as on this particular day, I tend to go overboard for the religious ones!! My mother-in-law had given me turmeric powder from some temple and had asked me to apply on face on a friday(as is a common tradition in Andhra and TamilNadu.) After God knows how many months or even years, I remembered this and was happy that I was going to a pooja and would be a good omen!

I wore a bright Kaanjivaram and matched it with some gold jewelery. Added to that I applied the haldi paste to my face and then washed it and assumed that there would only be a slight trace of it left on the face. Made a nice big vermillion bindi and was very pleased with myself.

When I was stepping out of  the house my son looked up and said I looked yellow. His father was either too astounded or dint find a non-confrontational way to tell me, hence just nodded in agreement and let it be. With great gusto I proceeded towards the the elevator. I was so pleased with myself that morning that I conveniently put away the shocked look on the face of the guy I almost bumped into as appreciation for my saree and jewelry, which is not an uncommon occurrence around here!

When I went out of the building, I saw a  little kid running across and suddenly stopped right in front of me, with yet another look of astonishment. His dad followed him and seemed to weigh possibilities of me being harmful to the kid. And I sure dint comprehend that!!  As I started opening my bag to take out my purse I noticed my hands in natural light for the first time . I almost screamed and then a thought struck me. My hands were a little less yellow than TDP flags and more than maggie. I probably beat even that and turned red with shock and embarrassment  as the thought crossed me that if that was color of my hand  what did my face look like.

I ran back in to the building and while on the elevator looked in the mirror and hit an all time low on confidence  to ever step in to the street where people where wondering what was wrong with me. When I went in and asked my husband why he dint tell me, he casually said he thought I knew.  I asked him if I should go back. He slowly tells me that it would be ok to go, only people might think I have jaundice!!....The fact was in the artificial yellow lights of my room where I was getting ready, I had not realized how much of the color was still on my face. It took 3 completely yellow soaked wet tissues to make me presentable again!!

When I went back to the bus stop and was thinking back on the events what  just happened, I was amused that if the gentleman and the kid were from Hyderabad he would probably say something like this - Oooh! Endhammo...polleremma jatra lenchi gatra vachinava emi gatlunnavu?? 

And I was wondering if I had proceeded without turning back towards the house, how long it would have been when a good Samaritan would have taken it upon themselves to call 911 and report a public nuisance or some breaking of a epidemic or something more dramatic like an alien species( after effects of watching Avatar perhaps!!) ??

Moderate Indians

Indians by themselves have mixed opinions about being Indian. It never fails to surprise me how we have an opinion on just about everything under the sun. We have varied differences of opinions too depending which state, region, caste or community we belong to. The moment we find someone from the same background as ours in any one way we gang up. We make our dormant opinions strong and unite to form a front.

But when we find ourselves away from our comfort area, we are first ones to docilely accept the situation. Even better than that is we call ourselves moderate. One of our famous lines - "We are not the type to get into all that, yaar. Those guys are different."

Every time I hear this great line it sets me thinking. All those fanatics back home who make big issues about valentines being celebrated, Christianity being propagated, Muslims aiming to become a majority or even those irksome people who want to wipe out migrants from other states from "their city " as they call it. We take in all this. Each one of us know that this is wrong. We never raise our voice against it. We suddenly convert to being Gandhian or "moderate" and to "bear" with these people "who actually know not what they are doing and deserve God's forgiveness.

I am wondering are we hiding our incapability to face truth behind a beautiful term called moderate. Pick any one of those yelling rioters and put them in a place without their multitude support or even geographically different say Times square in New york. And you can very well choose one of their "fearless and agressive " leaders for this experiment. Are their ideologies strong enough that they can convince people anywhere or as per their convenience turn moderate and accept things calmly the moment they are out of their scene? I think we know the answers.

When I was in India, I used to wonder why people do not like to come back after a few years abroad. After coming here I realise it is not really so much because of the facilities or shopping or conditions etc, atleast for the past couple of decades atleast. I find that we have competitive facilities in India too. So why do people like to do this? Because we learn to accept- different people, different religions, ideologies, et al and stop pushing at every small thing. 

My mother is so orthodox back home. We used to mockingly call them "pooja special" days. The ingredients used in the cooking will be newly bought. The utensils would have been those that are specially kept for these purposes. But when she came here, she was ok with adjusting our lifestyle. Sometimes I had to rush to my son's school or get some urgent errand done. I would ask her if she would want to accompany. I would tell her I dint have time to wait for her bath , but while I am getting ready she can change and eat something. She wouldnt mind. I wondered. I remember, years back we used to have big fights on the fact that most of the days she lands up with a very very late breakfast, which would effect her health. But she wouldnt budge."I cant eat without giving prashad to God" she would glower at me. She even got ready to wear salwar-kameez when she came here. She enjoyed eating out , going on trips or even bowling. We had such a good time. My Dad even performed in front of my friends. I was so shocked and happy. Makes me wonder if they could take back being their moderate selves home. 

Why do we learn to take things easy here? Why do we take things easy on ourselves here?  I think it is this easiness, this acceptance, this freedom to do things that way we want and not blindly follow what been expected of us , is what makes people reluctant to go back.

If it is so good to be moderate, why do we have to hide from it where it matters. When we become a huge family here where people come across communities and back home we barely manage to be civil with our own relations and family. If we can bear with things here, why not be moderate there too. I do not know what Mr Kennedy gave to America, but he surely gave this wonderful line to the world. Ask what you did for your country. But we can always replace that with family and community. We follow that and I am sure we are already learning to tread on our path of moderation.

Rush hour!

Did u see that when we are waiting for some transportation or for someone, we tend to observe a lot of what is going around? We think about all the people standing with us. Who are they ? where are they going? Which bus are they going to take?

Fleeting thoughts, unless for some later interrogation in some serious cop business, we usually leave them at that busstop and may never recollect it again. For those few moments we are a part of their lives - of all those people who are with us and they of ours.

Then in this tranquility of thoughts we see one person who comes in with some lightening speed - a lady with a kid and a huge bag running out of breath, a well dressed young man in formals goes past you before you can blink, a young student who rushes past you while balancing some books in her arms etc.

These are people who are trying to make it into that waiting bus which is there only because the lights are still red or the metro train has one door stuck or may be just a regular bus and they have be some place and dont want to miss this bus/train.

It is amazing how every time these people can create an adrenalin rush into every person  waiting in the bus stop, on either sides of the station platforms, even the guy eating at the deli across the street. Everyone stops their breath till these people make it. When they make it we are involuntarily smile, when they cant we look at them with some amount of sadness and stop ourselves short of rubbing their back and expressing our solidarity. We even forget to close our mouth while in the middle of that scene and realise that should close it after the scene finishes preferably with a favorable ending.

Sometimes we even step up and help the lady with her pram or bulging bags or wave and try to catch  the driver's attention  towards that person who is rushing.

Often I have been in that race to the finish line and never fail to wonder at the big smile on the face of the driver or that old lady or any of those others who watch you trying to get in. and you make it. In that second, we create a beautiful family of concerned people and well wishers around you who without any thought or malice want  you to win the race and sometimes help you too. They are not even waiting for a thank you because they know after you get in they will never see you.

I cant think of any other utterly selfless gesture where we involuntarily wish that a stranger gets what they are aiming for though we have absolutely no gain in it.

Soapy revenge!

When I used to go to college I always used to wonder why my mothers and aunts were so fond of daily soaps. When ever I used go across the TV I can only see either some major crying or some weirdly made up lady acting the vamp mother/mother-in-law/step mother/ sis-in-law etc etc whose main aim in life seemed to make many others around them miserable. I mean who wears that kind of makeup and torn blouses ...phew!

Then there were a few where the female protagonist would go to some absurd lengths to take care of her handicapped father, jobless brother, neurotic sister and puts her future on trade for their happiness. The only good thing that would happen after every centurion of episodes is that finally the vamps/villains are exposed or the downtrodden legally and lawfully find prosperity or all those "galat aarops" (misunderstandings ) against the lady are gone or she rightfully turns back and fights.

Not only do Indian women like all this.... I mean they patiently wait for a hundred episodes to see that woman fight back, justice served etc etc. I would roll my eyes the moment my mother would delightedly come to tell me how Parvati answered back or Tulsi was right etc.

After a decade, I dont feel ashamed to admit that I am a buff of these myself, may be not those heavily zaried bunglow living rich people ones, but some for sure. Today it makes me feel homely. When I watch something about college/ hyderabad/ India in general it reminds me of home, friends, happiness, independence, family....I can go on...

What I have understood is that these hundreds of women watch these things crazily because these are representations of themselves, their rituals, their style of dressing, their family structure, but more then anything I am thinking they are watching these out of revenge.

It is like a hidden pleasure that they get when they find how these women turn back when pushed to a corner. I think the multitude of women are not appreciating what is happening on screen, because it is a representation of what is happening in their life but more because of what is NOT HAPPENING in their lives but they would love to do it if by some miraculous way they can know what will be the reaction to the action that they will take.

I often watch a lady watching these confrontational or solution episodes and see that smirk on their faces, that contentment, that mental hi-fi that they give, the kudos that they give the heroine as though she is a part of them.

If a any villain/vamp is getting back...I think this is what that lady is thinking....(this may need some exclusive Hyderabadiness ..sorry)...

.....abba ippudu dorikavu raa naa kodaka...danchai vaadini......pelli chesukunnappudu enni matladaadu...pillani ichchina taruvata...entha mental torture peduthunnadu....kummeyali ilanti vaadini....

....manchi pani chesavu....ni amma .....tirigi chaachi kottu inkoka rendu ivvu... oorukunte alage chestaru...veededo pedda khiladi laaga tappulu enchu tunnadu....

.....ammayya...cupboard open chesadu policodu ippudu athagaru jailuke..yessss.....

.......Enti raa thokka lo nuvvu nannu bedirinchedi....naake nuvvu voddu po ra...em peekukuntavo peekuko ... po ra rei....


These women audience meet in the corridors and parks and discuss this and feel the adrenalin rush as though they achieved something.

If anybody thinks that just because our mothers/sisters/girlfriends are nice , docile, home loving and cant think in this language they have a second thought coming.When we women get down to maintaining a certain discipline at home and teaching what is right and wrong to the kids , what is our family in front of relations and friends, we project ourselves in a certain outlook and doesnt mean we cant think rough!!

The difference between the protagonist and the housewife is that the housewives' thoughts will never come to her lips. The day her thoughts touch her lips and her hand turns to give back what she got it means she has lost all respect for the person whom she had put on a pedestal for taking care of her and her life be it father/mother/ mother-in-law/husband...anyone... and then.... the house will separate from the wife.

Make no mistake that any downtrodden - poor, enslaved, ill-treated man or woman has an issue with physical strength. Many times they are the ones who do the hard labour, lift weights, shoulder loads of physical and mental burdens are far more stronger than they are taken for.

I am wondering if these serials can unite all these people to really think for themselves....I dont think any political party has put its thought over what kind of revolution can be created. And interestingly these serials and their audience have manged to transcend the borders of villages, states, even nations.

So, remind me again...why do we rate people watching discovery channel and BBC "inti" and the soap watchers as "senti" .

Actually ...... not long before I used to be a part of the earlier planet and have to take this opportunity to apologize to a friend who would think up some amazing tales to make sure he gives us the slip to watch his favorite soap!!

A letter from a husband to wife...

A very good husband once decided to tell his wife for her own good you see,

His very best advice why she is not what he wants her to be,

And so he wrote -

My dear wife, I really do care for you a lot you see,

And hence this letter to you from me,

I know I made a good choice when I chose you years back,

My family and friends have always been proud of me for that,

You have been a friend at those times I needed a hand or shoulder,

You have been a guide in times of my deepest thoughts and wonder,

You been been a fitting hostess and a wonderful cook,

I have been called and praised on even the way you look,

I rejoice in the way you made my family complete when see my son,

A mirror of my looks and a completion of my dreams and worthy of my father's expectation,

I agree you been around when we needed some nursing,

Some cleaning , some cooking, some buying , some caring, some this and some that,

But dont you realise that all this is not enough?

You see my dear life is very tough...

You are alright what ever you are...but still there is big problem,

You havn't yet understood that you are not perfect,

Let me give you an example-

You should be like ....my....oh no....you cant be that...

You should be like ...your....noway...you cant go there....

Well what ever it is ...I dont know...just try and be perfect,

'coz thats the way I want you to be,

May be the best would be this- as I perceive,

Is for you to do as and when as I please,

Dont give yourself much thought, I may not like that,

Throw out your emotions, I may not bear that,

Lets get a joint account of our brains and let me handle the inputs,

Wont that just make you happy to just use them and make it all worthy?

Lets make a beautiful start after this wonderful solution,

all that I need is for us to be a happy family,

Take my advice and follow me laughing heartily,

Isnt it enough that I love you so much, that I want you to be perfect,

May be I am not perfect, but I am sure you dont not have any regret.

To do...one day

One day-

May be I will dance in a competition,

Winning or losing does not complete my vision.

May be I will take that trip to Venice and Florence,

A gondola ride, a walk through those streets, taking in those scenes,

May be I will wear those bright graduating robes with that hat having a tail,

A degree in a foreign university ...a long lost dream waiting to come true,

May be I will gather the guts to get that tattoo on my back,

Cant wait to see my dad - a picture of shock,

May be I will finally shed those extra pounds,

Worthy of that pretty dress that I sigh at on my window shopping rounds,

May be I will get into the swimming pool and feel the thrill,

When I learn to swim up and break the water ...hmmm...how will it feel?

May be I will someday get to buy my first car with my own money,

Even one on the brink of a junkyard will be worth a million or more for me,

May be I will make my son proud of me,

No matter what I do, to love me just as me?

May be I will make him worthy of himself first,

And sit back gracefully when the world thinks he is the best,

May be I wont get to do much of these....

But I hope I never ever hurt anyone who would matter far more than my dreams.

Photo finish..ed!

On the verge of the decadal of our marriage, you could say my expectations of from important romantic events like anniversaries, birthdays and valentines' days are not very dramatic. But this year my husband decided to break the charm and planned a very interesting trip for Valentine's. We planned to go to the much-talked about Hotel de Glace or Quebec's pride - The Ice Hotel. Since Valentine's day was the last day for the winter carnival in Quebec, we decided to cover that too. We also invited a friend and her family into the convoy.

Over the years I have learned to stay away from decisions with respect to the trip plans and concentrate on prayers to show me empty parking lots and the child not asking for too many wash room breaks or anything else that can any way hamper the "perfect" planning of my husband. But no one says I am not allowed to get carried away with little whims once in a while and ask for little pleasures!! Well today was the day for continual requests for pictures of those vast country side grounds filled with beautiful, clean, white and shimmering snow!

After a couple of times, my friend's husband decided that it would be a good idea that I dint keep repeating myself and called for a break. Little did he know that where he was halting was having a lot of fresh snow and the car actually went off the road into the soft snow. When I thought I could get into trouble for asking this, I agreed not to stop and continue the journey. But when he tried to get the car back on the road he realized that the more he would try to get the car out,the more it was going under the snow.

Then I saw what could have easily made into those candid camera moments, where they deliberately create a situation to check out people's attention. About half a dozen cars pulled up all around us, trying to help us move the car onto the road. A family with kids, a lady and her friend, a couple of gentlemen .....Some of them helped with ideas, others tried to push the car, some others shoveled the snow. My friend and I were overwhelmed with the determination with which these strangers offered support. One lady got so exited, she wasn't taking it easy on those cars that wouldn't stop!

After more than half hour of super human effort finally we decided that we might require professional help from a tow truck. Then again one of the guys quickly called in for help! These guys were amazing. After we profusely thanked them, they all went their way. The husbands decided not to give up and kept trying all the engineering and math logic that they could think of. Right then a cop came up to check what was the problem and after being convinced that it was not an accident but a simple picture taking attempt that went "off the road", he called for help.

We, the women decided to keep the good sense to keep out of their way and not give even genuinely bright ideas, lest the axe might find its way to our necks. Though it was getting past lunch time I dint want to mention it but only jumped at the idea as soon as it came from the boys.

Just when we were having lunch, the police officer went away and the tow truck arrived and what happened in the next 15 secs were the most relieving, irritating and expensive road parking that happened. After checking the situation for like under 5 secs, the driver decided what was to be the plan of action. He got a hook out and tugged the car and with like the ring finger of his left hand and an effort equaling that would be required to operate a coffee machine he moved the car out of the 2 feet ditch!! These are times when you truly thank the Lord for the help and kick yourself that your one hour of extreme physical labor could not do what seventy dollors and a little button could!.

I was feeling so grounded that I dint dare take out the camera to do what we stopped for in the first place. But since everyone else suggested, I gathered courage to take a couple of keepsakes so that it will help me remember the "snowed-in tale". If you dint call this a "photo finish" ...wonder what would! ...And so we went out back on our way....

...Hotel de Glace...here we come...