Arjun has been away from home for years- when he left for college.
I have not lived with him for this long- for 7 years nearly, though we did meet often.
Every time I see him, he is different, and that does not stop surprising me.
When my parents told me to spend some time with Arjun, maybe just cook for him, my immediate response was- "Tish Tosh".
But they still know what I need- better than I do, quite often.
Surprisingly, I am enjoying doing that and the many other things which I have not done for him for a long time and he seems to enjoy it.
The impatience with someone in his way is gone.
You bring forth a tiny being, take care, nurture and then behold the miracle of seeing a boy be a man. He has a home and I like being here. So much that the idea of returning weighs heavy on my heart. But
Home they say, is where the heart is, and I am keeping mine with me henceforth.......
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
Yes I can! Dump my cramp for good.
Arjun's car needed a check- so this weekend we decided to take the Caltrain to San Francisco- destination Fishing Wharf and Hippie Hill.
If I had not got the cramp I did, we could have done both places. This is the one that comes from the head somewhere- and travels all over the left lower half. Been with me for a while and today is making me feel awfully..... cramped?
I did so want to check out the Caltrain, which I thought would be like our Delhi Metro and being able to say that makes me feel smug. I mean, there was the time when such trains had to be compared to the Tube, or the Kolkata underground- it's nice to have the apni Delhi Metro yardstick.
I remember my first trip starting from Dilshad Garden to Karol Bagh. The buzz was tremendous. Some of it of course must have been from the fact that Amma had arrived from Bhopal that morning, and was leaving that very night for UK-and I thought it was crazy to go shopping for a Pashmina, from one end of Delhi to another. We thought it might be easier to take the Metro- rather than drive 80 kilometres in the traffic.
The sheer size of that experience was overwhelming-people queuing up to buy tickets, crowding into lifts, up and down the stairs, pushing and pummelling their way into the train, maps and glow-signs, guidelines for changing from one route to another.
I remembered feeling completely rattled and so so inept. There was so MUCH to take in. And this when I consider myself a well travelled woman of the world kind of person, not exactly someone timid, from a sheltered background.
I expected the Caltrain to be a nerve racking experience. After all, I am in America etc. I was grateful to have Arjun with me, on my first trip.
I think the cramp must have got triggered on the way to the train station, and then we missed the one we planned to take.
There was hardly anyone at the station- a couple of passengers walked in at the last moment and the train almost chugged into the station to the sound of a kind of bell !!! Maybe 5 of us got in at California Avenue Station? All rather tame.
One of the passengers from Belmont who was rather friendly I thought, which I later discovered came from his having consumed some considerable amounts of beer, commented on the "crowd". He had was returning home, having attended a court case in which he was witness. It seems one of his drunken friends had opened up another's head with a baseball bat on another weekend.
It took longer by train to San Francisco than it did by road. And they say the traffic is bad.
The bus we took to the wharf from the Caltrain station was slower than the train. I can actually appreciate why someone like Arjun would absolutely need his own car. While the train and the bus are good to look out and see what is happening, they cannot be the way one can commute to appointments and negotiate tight work schedules in a startup.
The bus passed through the business district, and though Arjun clarified that San Francisco buildings are built lower than New York, I felt, even from inside the bus, a little ill, as it were. When Spider man swings from one to another, across the street, they look like toys. And the skyline is just pretty on my TV screen.
But these were really high, and I felt very conscious of my own five feet and two inches. The street between was clean, and really nice close up, but it felt dark and sort of dreary- and very very lonely and crushing to pass through them.
All I could think of were the twin towers crashing down, and the earthquake.
And this when we had started from home on a bright sunlit afternoon under very very blue skies.
I am so glad I have come to USA from the West Coast.
The wharf was great - blue blue skies, blue water, sharp winds, foam crested waves, white boat upon boat, parked very very close, the Sea Lions basking in the sun on wooden planks provided just for their convenience by a benevolent city in a safe area cordoned off to prevent them being disturbed, hoards of well turned out tourists - as there is no beach, people like to look good on the wharf.
Tried my first hot dog - but I think I will stick to fish and chips and clam chowder in future!!! And the baked desserts are my absolute favourites.
I felt the spirit of democracy and openness that I expect in California- in the way the black boys called themselves black and the whites thus. The need for being politically correct that I see in visitors to India from UK was missing.
I cannot imagine the Dalits or minorities in India doing something like this, laughing at themselves and their world.
The comment on society was hanging out there- and people were dealing with it. It did not look easy either, but the bitterness and violence was definitely bearable in the humour.
The performers on the pavements ranged from the lily white girls in their black tights; dancing something that looked very fused to me- fused as in bollywood and reality shows; to the blacks doing the break dance, making digs at the whites,browns and moneyed people.
Everyone looked like they were having a great time-but I could not help but feel some empathy for those who were collecting money for the performances. Although the beggars in India are distressing in the way they look poor, the performers on pavements are not easy to watch either. Just seems like a different platform to me- and a different style of operation. Neither is doing it for pleasure. They are all trying to eke out a livelihood, and the contortions are painful to watch- whether it be in Madai ka mela in Kanker, or Pier 39 in San Francisco.
If I had not got the cramp I did, we could have done both places. This is the one that comes from the head somewhere- and travels all over the left lower half. Been with me for a while and today is making me feel awfully..... cramped?
I did so want to check out the Caltrain, which I thought would be like our Delhi Metro and being able to say that makes me feel smug. I mean, there was the time when such trains had to be compared to the Tube, or the Kolkata underground- it's nice to have the apni Delhi Metro yardstick.
I remember my first trip starting from Dilshad Garden to Karol Bagh. The buzz was tremendous. Some of it of course must have been from the fact that Amma had arrived from Bhopal that morning, and was leaving that very night for UK-and I thought it was crazy to go shopping for a Pashmina, from one end of Delhi to another. We thought it might be easier to take the Metro- rather than drive 80 kilometres in the traffic.
The sheer size of that experience was overwhelming-people queuing up to buy tickets, crowding into lifts, up and down the stairs, pushing and pummelling their way into the train, maps and glow-signs, guidelines for changing from one route to another.
I remembered feeling completely rattled and so so inept. There was so MUCH to take in. And this when I consider myself a well travelled woman of the world kind of person, not exactly someone timid, from a sheltered background.
I expected the Caltrain to be a nerve racking experience. After all, I am in America etc. I was grateful to have Arjun with me, on my first trip.
I think the cramp must have got triggered on the way to the train station, and then we missed the one we planned to take.
There was hardly anyone at the station- a couple of passengers walked in at the last moment and the train almost chugged into the station to the sound of a kind of bell !!! Maybe 5 of us got in at California Avenue Station? All rather tame.
One of the passengers from Belmont who was rather friendly I thought, which I later discovered came from his having consumed some considerable amounts of beer, commented on the "crowd". He had was returning home, having attended a court case in which he was witness. It seems one of his drunken friends had opened up another's head with a baseball bat on another weekend.
It took longer by train to San Francisco than it did by road. And they say the traffic is bad.
The bus we took to the wharf from the Caltrain station was slower than the train. I can actually appreciate why someone like Arjun would absolutely need his own car. While the train and the bus are good to look out and see what is happening, they cannot be the way one can commute to appointments and negotiate tight work schedules in a startup.
The bus passed through the business district, and though Arjun clarified that San Francisco buildings are built lower than New York, I felt, even from inside the bus, a little ill, as it were. When Spider man swings from one to another, across the street, they look like toys. And the skyline is just pretty on my TV screen.
But these were really high, and I felt very conscious of my own five feet and two inches. The street between was clean, and really nice close up, but it felt dark and sort of dreary- and very very lonely and crushing to pass through them.
All I could think of were the twin towers crashing down, and the earthquake.
And this when we had started from home on a bright sunlit afternoon under very very blue skies.
I am so glad I have come to USA from the West Coast.
The wharf was great - blue blue skies, blue water, sharp winds, foam crested waves, white boat upon boat, parked very very close, the Sea Lions basking in the sun on wooden planks provided just for their convenience by a benevolent city in a safe area cordoned off to prevent them being disturbed, hoards of well turned out tourists - as there is no beach, people like to look good on the wharf.
Tried my first hot dog - but I think I will stick to fish and chips and clam chowder in future!!! And the baked desserts are my absolute favourites.
I felt the spirit of democracy and openness that I expect in California- in the way the black boys called themselves black and the whites thus. The need for being politically correct that I see in visitors to India from UK was missing.
I cannot imagine the Dalits or minorities in India doing something like this, laughing at themselves and their world.
The comment on society was hanging out there- and people were dealing with it. It did not look easy either, but the bitterness and violence was definitely bearable in the humour.
The performers on the pavements ranged from the lily white girls in their black tights; dancing something that looked very fused to me- fused as in bollywood and reality shows; to the blacks doing the break dance, making digs at the whites,browns and moneyed people.
Everyone looked like they were having a great time-but I could not help but feel some empathy for those who were collecting money for the performances. Although the beggars in India are distressing in the way they look poor, the performers on pavements are not easy to watch either. Just seems like a different platform to me- and a different style of operation. Neither is doing it for pleasure. They are all trying to eke out a livelihood, and the contortions are painful to watch- whether it be in Madai ka mela in Kanker, or Pier 39 in San Francisco.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
What about staying power?
I am disturbed by the "concerned".
The growing participation on social networking platforms points to a growth in expressions of the masses.
But it is rather like pop corn- instantaneous response, some sound. But mostly air.
When I first found Ryze, I was excited- by what I saw as a business building opportunity. But it did not take me long to figure out that I was not going to be able to do much business there. It had greater potential as a match making website-in my opinion. Finding clients was better done elsewhere.
I almost escaped Orkut- the format was kind of "too" anonymous - if that is an acceptable expression in the English Language. But I suppose I should proceed to write with confidence , almost disregard the English language issue- after all in the world of SMS and computers, anything goes. I have put up a profile on Orkut too but all I get is some strange satisfaction in telling people ki maine aapko us nazar se nahin dekha- aur dekhna bhi nahin chahti. Get OFFF!!!! They really ask me nothing more than what do I do- which is anyway part of the profile. And if a person cannot read on the internet, he might as well not exist.
I find Face Book has caught the fancy of people- who I fancy- even those middle aged fuddy duddys who did not check their mail boxes five years back are on it. Even if it is just to keep up with the ..... children.......own or other people's who are posting exciting stuff here.
Disregard the disdain- and there is indeed a respectable mix of people here- the ones I know and the ones I'd like to know. A mix of the light hearted "entertain and be entertained" approach, love of anything beautiful, art, poetry, and then there is the spurt of citizens' groups, causes etc.
I am interested in following the progress of these last. Probably my (extremely) close involvement in such activity on yahoo groups for the last five years is the reason for the interest. Or maybe it is just a voyeuristic pleasure that I get. Some people somewhere trying to do things which I no longer can- and making it.
Whatever.
The intent is honourable- and I am not talking about mine here please.
The time seems ripe for the literate middle class to come together in cyberspace. But attracting attention is only the first step. Preen and there will be response. We know that. Males of all species were designed that way. However much I might like to blame the generations of men before me, I cannot but appreciate that it is only the human male that has ensured that this responsibility is shared by the females. And maybe the gender sensitive should pay attention here and give credit where it's due.
Getting back to the "concerned" people, what is the role of the initiator of a platform promoting civil society participation and social change as a consequence of that increased interaction?
I find it noteworthy, that the treatment of issues is often shallow. Let me commit myself here- it is always shallow.
That is killing me guys.
Imagine a situation- someone shows interest, titillates, shows promise, and then- fizzles out. A failure to rise to the occasion, or a speedy spillover- the result is just- disappointment.
What about staying power? Why is that so .......missing?
And then if I pause and consider other times, what was different then? Is there a time and place that I can look at, with a longing to return?
Of course the idea of the Indian freedom struggle is about all that comes to my mind. There is no other model of an individual concern culminating into a shared achievement. But the thing is, I was not there then. And I am not sure it was all that it is made out to be. I mean I can hardly ignore Gandhi ji's disappointment on 15th of August 1947.
A friend who has been trying to emulate Gandhi ( in getting people going) says he is stumped, and just cannot see " What made him succeed"? Gandhi did not have significantly more resources or time when he began, nothing that any middle class literate person like you and me is lacking.
And yet, he could mobilise people.
Now here, I am very conscious of some facts- that I am not an authority on Gandhi, nor am I committed to going into some research mode, so I can talk about him forcefully. What I have is my ( limited) view of him- and I do believe that that is what is relevant to me. If the reader here has a better view then he is welcome to share it. And beyond this explanation, I am not going to worry about my limited understanding of this that or the other.
So, Gandhi ji could mobilise people. He had something.
Why does he inspire me as a leader?
I think for myself, and I can say this; what impresses me most, into following anyone, briefly or over my life, is their capacity to dig deep. And to make me dig deeper than I ever have.
I think there is only one way I could be so motivated- if I was provoked.
And that is why, the Face Book seems a good place- it does provide an opportunity to provoke. The self first and then the other.
But I do see a dearth of staying power- not many people write notes.
The single line wall posts are all that we have time for.
Am I then destined to remain dissatisfied?
Or is this the promised land of adequate foreplay.
The growing participation on social networking platforms points to a growth in expressions of the masses.
But it is rather like pop corn- instantaneous response, some sound. But mostly air.
When I first found Ryze, I was excited- by what I saw as a business building opportunity. But it did not take me long to figure out that I was not going to be able to do much business there. It had greater potential as a match making website-in my opinion. Finding clients was better done elsewhere.
I almost escaped Orkut- the format was kind of "too" anonymous - if that is an acceptable expression in the English Language. But I suppose I should proceed to write with confidence , almost disregard the English language issue- after all in the world of SMS and computers, anything goes. I have put up a profile on Orkut too but all I get is some strange satisfaction in telling people ki maine aapko us nazar se nahin dekha- aur dekhna bhi nahin chahti. Get OFFF!!!! They really ask me nothing more than what do I do- which is anyway part of the profile. And if a person cannot read on the internet, he might as well not exist.
I find Face Book has caught the fancy of people- who I fancy- even those middle aged fuddy duddys who did not check their mail boxes five years back are on it. Even if it is just to keep up with the ..... children.......own or other people's who are posting exciting stuff here.
Disregard the disdain- and there is indeed a respectable mix of people here- the ones I know and the ones I'd like to know. A mix of the light hearted "entertain and be entertained" approach, love of anything beautiful, art, poetry, and then there is the spurt of citizens' groups, causes etc.
I am interested in following the progress of these last. Probably my (extremely) close involvement in such activity on yahoo groups for the last five years is the reason for the interest. Or maybe it is just a voyeuristic pleasure that I get. Some people somewhere trying to do things which I no longer can- and making it.
Whatever.
The intent is honourable- and I am not talking about mine here please.
The time seems ripe for the literate middle class to come together in cyberspace. But attracting attention is only the first step. Preen and there will be response. We know that. Males of all species were designed that way. However much I might like to blame the generations of men before me, I cannot but appreciate that it is only the human male that has ensured that this responsibility is shared by the females. And maybe the gender sensitive should pay attention here and give credit where it's due.
Getting back to the "concerned" people, what is the role of the initiator of a platform promoting civil society participation and social change as a consequence of that increased interaction?
I find it noteworthy, that the treatment of issues is often shallow. Let me commit myself here- it is always shallow.
That is killing me guys.
Imagine a situation- someone shows interest, titillates, shows promise, and then- fizzles out. A failure to rise to the occasion, or a speedy spillover- the result is just- disappointment.
What about staying power? Why is that so .......missing?
And then if I pause and consider other times, what was different then? Is there a time and place that I can look at, with a longing to return?
Of course the idea of the Indian freedom struggle is about all that comes to my mind. There is no other model of an individual concern culminating into a shared achievement. But the thing is, I was not there then. And I am not sure it was all that it is made out to be. I mean I can hardly ignore Gandhi ji's disappointment on 15th of August 1947.
A friend who has been trying to emulate Gandhi ( in getting people going) says he is stumped, and just cannot see " What made him succeed"? Gandhi did not have significantly more resources or time when he began, nothing that any middle class literate person like you and me is lacking.
And yet, he could mobilise people.
Now here, I am very conscious of some facts- that I am not an authority on Gandhi, nor am I committed to going into some research mode, so I can talk about him forcefully. What I have is my ( limited) view of him- and I do believe that that is what is relevant to me. If the reader here has a better view then he is welcome to share it. And beyond this explanation, I am not going to worry about my limited understanding of this that or the other.
So, Gandhi ji could mobilise people. He had something.
Why does he inspire me as a leader?
I think for myself, and I can say this; what impresses me most, into following anyone, briefly or over my life, is their capacity to dig deep. And to make me dig deeper than I ever have.
I think there is only one way I could be so motivated- if I was provoked.
And that is why, the Face Book seems a good place- it does provide an opportunity to provoke. The self first and then the other.
But I do see a dearth of staying power- not many people write notes.
The single line wall posts are all that we have time for.
Am I then destined to remain dissatisfied?
Or is this the promised land of adequate foreplay.
Thankful
Dear M
Thank you for reminding me that training takes time.
There is a growing awareness of time passing by. It is difficult to accept my limitations. I will be able to do so much and no more.
Desperately running around screaming "change" is not going to work- however strong the feeling.
I thought I would plant some seeds and the tree would bear fruits and I would be able to partake of them- in a beatific state of "forever". Hahaha. Just too bad- that I have to face the reality of this tree- there is no magic here. Most likely, one tree is not enough, and perhaps many trees are not enough either. I can't really say how long one will last- mostly because these are my first trees, my first life, and I am not sure I have a precedent here that I can count on.
Unless I have a "total faith" attitude, I have to be part of this world. And the business of life shall have to be carried on forever- that is the longest lasting conclusion I have.
It's nice to have you.
I can hear myself in you, when I cannot hear myself. And it is reassuring.
I am dispensable.
This is a wow moment- wanted to share it with you.
Cheers
Smita
Thank you for reminding me that training takes time.
There is a growing awareness of time passing by. It is difficult to accept my limitations. I will be able to do so much and no more.
Desperately running around screaming "change" is not going to work- however strong the feeling.
I thought I would plant some seeds and the tree would bear fruits and I would be able to partake of them- in a beatific state of "forever". Hahaha. Just too bad- that I have to face the reality of this tree- there is no magic here. Most likely, one tree is not enough, and perhaps many trees are not enough either. I can't really say how long one will last- mostly because these are my first trees, my first life, and I am not sure I have a precedent here that I can count on.
Unless I have a "total faith" attitude, I have to be part of this world. And the business of life shall have to be carried on forever- that is the longest lasting conclusion I have.
It's nice to have you.
I can hear myself in you, when I cannot hear myself. And it is reassuring.
I am dispensable.
This is a wow moment- wanted to share it with you.
Cheers
Smita
Saturday, June 13, 2009
multi something-clearly Krishna
There is something about the way one can reflect on one's own life- when talking to a specific person. Shows up a specific facet
It could have something to do with the 33 crore Gods that I am used to, instead of the One and only. At any given time, I can feel one way inclined, and there is a special God who caters to just that angle :)
I am in the US with my son- came over just this month- 6th. We are in California- Palo Alto, and it is a remarkably beautiful neigborhood.
Makes me rethink.
For one I no longer feel the need to persuade my son to come back to India. If I did not have a very strong reason to go back, like a visa that limits my stay, I would prefer it too. There is nothing I do which means anything anywhere- so I might as well hang around in what appeals to my eye and the heart.
Maybe the beauty palls.
I wonder how long that takes- for the present everything I see is wonderful. The weather is lovely- eye candy in plenty.
People I see on the roads when I walk around look well- no one is ugly, or fat or suffering- and it is difficult to believe they have a secret life on the psychiatrists' couch. I actually saw an old person on the road reach out to a flower on a tree by the road- just to smell it. He did not break it from the branch- just leaned a bit. I caught his eye, and he smiled too. He was a frail looking person- not someone on a power walk. But not poor, and lonely- like the stereotype of the aged in the west- in my head
I saw children with parents- they were enjoying each other.
Generally a smiling kind of life all around me, and friendly , unlike what one reads about the lack of open-ness in the West- from India. Classifications of people are really very misleading.
Last evening I got into a chat with a woman sitting in front of a huge pile of dried bamboo shoots, and cutting each dried leaf, piling it up on one side, the twigs going up on the other pile. The flowers in her garden looked special and she looked sort of frail. I could not make out her nationality- she was white to me.
I am still new enough to be cautious about initiating a conversation- but I could not help asking her what she was doing.
She said she would use the main bamboo shoots to make a gazebo - a shade under which one can sit down. The smaller twigs would support growing vegetable/flower plants- like her tomatoes. And most of all she just felt that the speed of life around her sometimes got too much and it helped just to sit and do something like this.
I asked her what she did to speed up things so- apparently it is not her, it's the society around her. She is originally from Iran , in the US for 35 years, and spoke of her sister who rushes around from Santa Xruz to San Francisco on a day- something she did not admire really.
I hope I get to see her again. It would be nice to sit around- she doing her gazebo, and me knitting a muffler- in the sun.
Will my son be able to sit back earlier than I can- he did say he would like to begin at 30.That is just 5 years away. I might even be around.
A friend - from my college days- in Bhopal- was speaking of his joy in his son's coming of age and making the choice to work with his father. As a parent, my friend sounded like his heart was really full. I think I would like to be there one day, during my life time.
Usually I have travelled on work with something to be done, achieved. Even holidays were like that- one needed a change with an objective to do more at the end of it.
This does feel as close to a vacation as I can imagine. We are not planning places to see, things to do while I am here. And it is just great.
I do not have a phone at home- and the internet is the only way I can communicate with anyone I know, from home.
Who is the God that matches this inclination?
It could have something to do with the 33 crore Gods that I am used to, instead of the One and only. At any given time, I can feel one way inclined, and there is a special God who caters to just that angle :)
I am in the US with my son- came over just this month- 6th. We are in California- Palo Alto, and it is a remarkably beautiful neigborhood.
Makes me rethink.
For one I no longer feel the need to persuade my son to come back to India. If I did not have a very strong reason to go back, like a visa that limits my stay, I would prefer it too. There is nothing I do which means anything anywhere- so I might as well hang around in what appeals to my eye and the heart.
Maybe the beauty palls.
I wonder how long that takes- for the present everything I see is wonderful. The weather is lovely- eye candy in plenty.
People I see on the roads when I walk around look well- no one is ugly, or fat or suffering- and it is difficult to believe they have a secret life on the psychiatrists' couch. I actually saw an old person on the road reach out to a flower on a tree by the road- just to smell it. He did not break it from the branch- just leaned a bit. I caught his eye, and he smiled too. He was a frail looking person- not someone on a power walk. But not poor, and lonely- like the stereotype of the aged in the west- in my head
I saw children with parents- they were enjoying each other.
Generally a smiling kind of life all around me, and friendly , unlike what one reads about the lack of open-ness in the West- from India. Classifications of people are really very misleading.
Last evening I got into a chat with a woman sitting in front of a huge pile of dried bamboo shoots, and cutting each dried leaf, piling it up on one side, the twigs going up on the other pile. The flowers in her garden looked special and she looked sort of frail. I could not make out her nationality- she was white to me.
I am still new enough to be cautious about initiating a conversation- but I could not help asking her what she was doing.
She said she would use the main bamboo shoots to make a gazebo - a shade under which one can sit down. The smaller twigs would support growing vegetable/flower plants- like her tomatoes. And most of all she just felt that the speed of life around her sometimes got too much and it helped just to sit and do something like this.
I asked her what she did to speed up things so- apparently it is not her, it's the society around her. She is originally from Iran , in the US for 35 years, and spoke of her sister who rushes around from Santa Xruz to San Francisco on a day- something she did not admire really.
I hope I get to see her again. It would be nice to sit around- she doing her gazebo, and me knitting a muffler- in the sun.
Will my son be able to sit back earlier than I can- he did say he would like to begin at 30.That is just 5 years away. I might even be around.
A friend - from my college days- in Bhopal- was speaking of his joy in his son's coming of age and making the choice to work with his father. As a parent, my friend sounded like his heart was really full. I think I would like to be there one day, during my life time.
Usually I have travelled on work with something to be done, achieved. Even holidays were like that- one needed a change with an objective to do more at the end of it.
This does feel as close to a vacation as I can imagine. We are not planning places to see, things to do while I am here. And it is just great.
I do not have a phone at home- and the internet is the only way I can communicate with anyone I know, from home.
Who is the God that matches this inclination?
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Ashik ka janaza hai Zara dhoom se nikle.
I may talk hard strategy - but I do it only when I am trapped.
Like the time when I had to pay back a loan to the bank, and I did not have the 50 lakhs, I had to think hard. Conceal. Lie.
Given a choice I would like to keep things simple- think positive. Deeply positive. Not just pretend to be that way.
I'd rather work on moving that switch in my head, which changes my frame of mind, than go to work on altering the reality in front of me- on which I have shit all control anyway.
It feels good- rich- to first accept a view and a way, and then question it's value for self and society.
Science however was all about questions. I really have outlived the utility of my education.
Look at the standard pattern that I follow. See something- question it.
And then I want to be universally loved. Silly really. In the questions is implicit a certain resentment and rejection of whatever I am facing. Abrasion is inevitable.
I can see however that the scientific approach is aligned to progress. An "Anti" stand makes me think faster, harder. With that awareness and the defensive stance, the juices flow.
But over that part of my life which has been lived, I think the juices have dried up. I just do not aspire as much. I'd rather have it all just enough- and just right -instead of as much as possible.
Getting it right is a better game than getting more and then trying to make the most of everything.
Is the process of acquisition losing it's charm?
That's not it. I know what follows though- Acquisitions pile up. Hoarding means work on maintenance . It is so clear that I have more than I can use before the expiry date. Mine or that on what is before me.
Worst of all, the stuff that has already expired must be disposed off. Holding on to it will raise the stink. Unless, Unless.......Organic waale jo specialists ise padh rahe hain, expert advice mangta hai.
Ya ki undertakers saamne aa jayen- let's bury the dead in as pretty a way as possible.
Like the time when I had to pay back a loan to the bank, and I did not have the 50 lakhs, I had to think hard. Conceal. Lie.
Given a choice I would like to keep things simple- think positive. Deeply positive. Not just pretend to be that way.
I'd rather work on moving that switch in my head, which changes my frame of mind, than go to work on altering the reality in front of me- on which I have shit all control anyway.
It feels good- rich- to first accept a view and a way, and then question it's value for self and society.
Science however was all about questions. I really have outlived the utility of my education.
Look at the standard pattern that I follow. See something- question it.
And then I want to be universally loved. Silly really. In the questions is implicit a certain resentment and rejection of whatever I am facing. Abrasion is inevitable.
I can see however that the scientific approach is aligned to progress. An "Anti" stand makes me think faster, harder. With that awareness and the defensive stance, the juices flow.
But over that part of my life which has been lived, I think the juices have dried up. I just do not aspire as much. I'd rather have it all just enough- and just right -instead of as much as possible.
Getting it right is a better game than getting more and then trying to make the most of everything.
Is the process of acquisition losing it's charm?
That's not it. I know what follows though- Acquisitions pile up. Hoarding means work on maintenance . It is so clear that I have more than I can use before the expiry date. Mine or that on what is before me.
Worst of all, the stuff that has already expired must be disposed off. Holding on to it will raise the stink. Unless, Unless.......Organic waale jo specialists ise padh rahe hain, expert advice mangta hai.
Ya ki undertakers saamne aa jayen- let's bury the dead in as pretty a way as possible.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
In the land of liberty
I feel privileged.
There is a cocoon that I am in, soft in it's safety.
I can not today be anxious.
Doomsday could happen- but I am not living with that thought.
Something is interrupted.
After questions ranging from the location of the Jagannath temple in India, my impressions of isa masih, and a harrowing exchange about my financial viability in the US, the Visa interrogation officer informed me that isa masih went to India for 7-8 years to study, and then he was crucified in the Middle East. If he was not on the other side of a desk, I'd have given him a hug- must be difficult to live with that kind of a feeling about one's jesus.
Then he said he would not grant me a visa for 6 months as I wanted- he looked pleased as punch. I was thinking - and now I have to pay for changing my return ticket.
But then, stamped it for 5 months and 29 days!!!!!!! Which is two days after the day I am booked for.
Poor Arjun was outside in the baggage collection area- having gone through his own entry process separately, and he says he went through "some difficulty" ( meaning a nail biting attack) while I was in what is called the "secondary"....
San Francisco weather is like being on a hill station in summer, in India. Very very pleasant. With Hot water unlimited in the taps- I like it.
The flowers are beautiful- and I understand they bloom all year. One of the hedges on my walk today was almost white- there were so many tiny flowers on it, and it smelled so sweet, I was standing there for a bit.
I like the area where Arjun lives. Each home is different from the other- but all of them have their own trees, and flowers and some sort of space which is different from the one next door.
Seeing some really old trees I reconsidered my national feelings somewhat. There is a kind of righteousness in my claim that the trees in India are special. Which is fine,except that in that national sentiment there is a sense of exclusivity- some kind of mahan- ness.
But Palo Alto homes have as much variety- more actually- because they are apparently able to collect and nurture it, they have more resources and clearly no dearth of good taste. In Ghaziabad where we live, all old trees were chopped off this year-cannot understand why- I mean many bigger trees have flourished under Electric lines.
There were very few people on the road that I was walking on this evening- but clearly this was not an impersonal lonely place.
I felt strangely like Alice in wonderland- that it was all laid out that way for me.
As I write this, I wonder why I do not get that feeling about some people? LIke my son, and my husband? When they work, I should feel a joy in what they say they are doing for me- and enjoy what they provide.
I think I have been so caught up with the idea of my own purusharth, that enjoying the fruits of the labour of another was somehow wrong- sacrilageous. I had to do the same things.
There was no known scheme by which two people could be together in their separateness.
Being so far away from the ones I have had close to me forever, is somehow like I have died and gone to heaven. Hell cannot be this much fun. I have been awake all night, and I am not upset. I am not even blaming it on jet lag.
Will this last? Or will I start feeling guilty about not doing my duty? Today I feel happily redundant in everyone's life.
And this is very liberating.
There is a cocoon that I am in, soft in it's safety.
I can not today be anxious.
Doomsday could happen- but I am not living with that thought.
Something is interrupted.
After questions ranging from the location of the Jagannath temple in India, my impressions of isa masih, and a harrowing exchange about my financial viability in the US, the Visa interrogation officer informed me that isa masih went to India for 7-8 years to study, and then he was crucified in the Middle East. If he was not on the other side of a desk, I'd have given him a hug- must be difficult to live with that kind of a feeling about one's jesus.
Then he said he would not grant me a visa for 6 months as I wanted- he looked pleased as punch. I was thinking - and now I have to pay for changing my return ticket.
But then, stamped it for 5 months and 29 days!!!!!!! Which is two days after the day I am booked for.
Poor Arjun was outside in the baggage collection area- having gone through his own entry process separately, and he says he went through "some difficulty" ( meaning a nail biting attack) while I was in what is called the "secondary"....
San Francisco weather is like being on a hill station in summer, in India. Very very pleasant. With Hot water unlimited in the taps- I like it.
The flowers are beautiful- and I understand they bloom all year. One of the hedges on my walk today was almost white- there were so many tiny flowers on it, and it smelled so sweet, I was standing there for a bit.
I like the area where Arjun lives. Each home is different from the other- but all of them have their own trees, and flowers and some sort of space which is different from the one next door.
Seeing some really old trees I reconsidered my national feelings somewhat. There is a kind of righteousness in my claim that the trees in India are special. Which is fine,except that in that national sentiment there is a sense of exclusivity- some kind of mahan- ness.
But Palo Alto homes have as much variety- more actually- because they are apparently able to collect and nurture it, they have more resources and clearly no dearth of good taste. In Ghaziabad where we live, all old trees were chopped off this year-cannot understand why- I mean many bigger trees have flourished under Electric lines.
There were very few people on the road that I was walking on this evening- but clearly this was not an impersonal lonely place.
I felt strangely like Alice in wonderland- that it was all laid out that way for me.
As I write this, I wonder why I do not get that feeling about some people? LIke my son, and my husband? When they work, I should feel a joy in what they say they are doing for me- and enjoy what they provide.
I think I have been so caught up with the idea of my own purusharth, that enjoying the fruits of the labour of another was somehow wrong- sacrilageous. I had to do the same things.
There was no known scheme by which two people could be together in their separateness.
Being so far away from the ones I have had close to me forever, is somehow like I have died and gone to heaven. Hell cannot be this much fun. I have been awake all night, and I am not upset. I am not even blaming it on jet lag.
Will this last? Or will I start feeling guilty about not doing my duty? Today I feel happily redundant in everyone's life.
And this is very liberating.
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