Random Ramblings

While still in my teens, I often heard my dad recite his favorite lines from Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina , “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way”. For years the true meaning behind these lines eluded me, and no matter how deeply I dug into the words, somehow I couldn’t touch what the author really wanted us to understand. My dad, who would always return a mildly challenging smile when asked what those lines meant, would never satisfy our questions fully, but rather leave us in a grumpy, confused, self-defeating state of mind. And then one day, I finally got it. That occasion was of no particular significance, barring the fact that it had been an extremely tiresome day. I had picked up Sid from his childcare center after my evening MBA classes. It was already ten. Sid, being tenderly fussy on the days he was forced to be away from me till late at night, refused food and went straight to bed. Another night of non-stop studying was about to begin ...

Its one o clock in the morning and I'm still awake. Conventional wisdom would suggest I go to sleep. Not enough sleep would probably mean a less productive tommorrow. Not for me. Being a mother, I'm inherently programmed to wake up at 6:45am every morning. And I've done all the great deeds of my life being tired, broke or sleep-deprived(sounds scary!). I've been thinking about family, home, roots and culture. Perhaps because its so close to my upcoming visit to India (after a gap of three years). The mind imagines the reunion with the family, the glowing faces, the tears of joy. There is nothing like home. For so long have I missed the strolls along those streets strewn with idle shops, tiny but uncluttered, ugly but charming. The roadside thelaas selling the spiciest bhelpuris and the yummiest egg-rolls. The magic madness of the tuesday haats . Thin street-vendors nagging every passing tourist. Brightest saris. Hot pink sindoor. Neon bangles. Loud uncles and warn...

Last Sunday we drove up to the Amicalola Falls of North Georgia. It wasn't really planned but, as it sometimes is - things just happen, plans just don't. After a cozy night's sleep (it was cold!) when I finally acknowledged the morning, albeit reluctantly, it wasn't so exciting. The mercury had dipped significantly since last week and the clouds threatened to ruin the last day before the hectic work week began. Darn ! just when you thought this was going to be the day you could do anything under the sun, it turns out, the Sun God has a mood swing. In a couple of hours, bleak turned into bright, and the temperature rose to bearable(a very relative term). Aha ! mmm... the adrenaline rush was getting me now. A packed ice-box and a filled gas tank later, my Pontiac Grand AM was ruling the roads(ok, at least in my mind). Now, lets talk about the landscape. Honestly, the roadside trees are not their sexiest in March. In fact, unless you love the bald look, they probab...

Today was a refreshing day. The past weeks had me caught within a "Coriolis Effect". This effect is the apparent deflection of objects from a straight path if the objects are viewed from a rotating frame of reference. Sometimes even a steady headed person can deviate and forget that we live within a mesh of various forces. Its not fun being carried away to a strange foreign land by strong staggering wind and not realising that all I had to do was to hold on to the familiar hand of obscurity, until the wind settled. Instead , once caught in a wildfire, its easier to lose way and get caught towards the worst epicenter, than run out to the perimeter. The Whirlwind, that's what it is. Today was the day, I got out of that whirlwind. And silly me, all it took was a walk to the local Barnes and Noble, get a tall Cafe Mocha, head to the poetry section and settle all by myself at a little corner in the store. As my latest muse, Rumi took me in, and overcame all my six se...

I meet all kind of people all the time. Love 'em. They intrigue me. Knowing, observing and analysing them comes to me naturally. Some open up easily. Some push me away. Some wait and watch and test before giving away in increments. Sometimes I come across someone that doesn't know the existence of the 'invisible cage'. What is this invisible cage ? We live with it, and operate within the framework it lays for us. Hinduism describes that cage as "AHAM" , but you and I know it more as "ego" . I think of Ego as a useful engine, but it needs a driver for steering. A powerful engine without an equally powerful driver drives aimlessly , and could even be self-destructive. They miss their goals, repeatedly. According to Hindu Philosophy the Goal of Self Realisation may be achieved by surrendering ego and merging with Self. The road to happiness begins with the giving up of the notion of ego. Now, the reason I'm writing this is because, from m...

Whats wrong with us ? Why are we not rejoicing that Deepa Mehta's "Water" was at least nominated in the Oscar's foreign films category. The day the oscars were announced most Indian newspapers had the following headlines : "Deepa Mehta's Water misses the mark" , "Mehta's water not good enough" , and the even more bizarre, "Water misses Oscars, John misses Bips" !!!! . I sense the deep rooted complex that we have against our own fellow countrymen a little different from the rest of us. Before you begin to think that I am a fierce feminist who wants to defend Mehta, let me tell you thats not true. I had personally found Mehta's films good but never great. And I'm no feminist. The first one of the Trilogy , "Fire" was about two women, married to brothers of the same household, both women being neglected by their husbands. Shabana and Nandita did their roles convincingly, yet I found the film not depictin...

As the year ending ceremonies begin with flowing champagne and throbbing music, and end with the birth of countless new hopes, every little heart feels the in-escapable sadness arising out of that fleeting last moment, the emotion lasting perhaps for a split-second. But then in the next blink of an eye, the glitter of shining new promises take over. Tomorrow will be a beautiful new day, and even if it is not, perhaps I will be stronger to still hold onto you, wonderful life. Like every other celebration involving a public holiday, people party, and that too within huge groups. Countless new resolutions are made. Some old ones are renewed, yet again. As if resolutions made this night are consecrated by the collective goodness of the nocturnal participants. People hold hands, kiss and cry with complete strangers, share (coincidentally) similar sounding stories, as they look back at the year just passed. All this, I am sure is familiar madness to you. At the strike of 12:00, I dec...