I have now gone beyond feelings
Of nostalgia, longing, envy, even craving
I merrily accept my grounding
There is much from home to experience
All around me I see and hear
Everybody is off here or somewhere
Each in search of fun and pleasure
Going site seeing or just stir-crazy
The retired oldies are gladly bonding
With other fellow senior silver being
Going as pilgrims, mendicants searching
For Nirvana to temples and holy places
The adventurous holidaying middlings
Are taking off from stress extensively touring
Spring, Summer, monsoon or winters
Quickly ticking dots off on travel posters
Families are now on the annual go
Kids want to boast at school with gung-ho
They make trips to hill stations and ruins
To Humayun’s tomb and African safaris
In kindergarten too little kids
Regularly step out on excursions
To see deer, fish and seaside creatures
As part of their multidimensional lessons
Planes are busy in spite of strikes
Trains are full due to cheap tickets
Roads crowded, people on the move
Hotels, resorts, family homes are full
Here I sit happily in my couch watching
Places, people, all that is happening
Hearing reports of others outings
TV is my temple, plazas and destinations
The media is rich with travel
Tickets and hotels with days/nights offers
I see planes taking off, ships going cruising
Trailers and trains off to unknown destinations
No bags to pack, no travel cares
No dirty clothes or fragile souvenirs
No vaccinations or flu or upset bellies
I'm happy to be an armchair traveller
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Daughter’s Day
It is Vijayadashami day---a time to start new projects. Well! I am going to renew my blogging that got sidelined for no reason at all. My brother Ramana politely asked me if I was going to write in my blogspot or if he could remove the bookmark from his computer! What more inspiration than the fear of being obliterated from somebody’s, that too my eldest brother who is also now loco parentis for all of us, computer.
This Sunday—28th was suddenly declared as daughter’s day. I am a daughter, I have a daughter and a daughter-in-law and two granddaughters. So that is a lot of reason to celebrate. Being a daughter in Indian society has always been perceived to be that of a second class human being in the family structure. There have been many daughters who have been favourites of parents that history records. There is also the horrific statistics about Female infanticide that reflect a sick society.
As a daughter I have been given the most love, respect and honour. In fact in Hindu rituals the daughter of the house and her husband are given the honours first in recognition of their importance in the family dynamics. How this got eroded and daughters became a symbol of burden is dictated to entirely by the horrors of dowry. Girls were honoured as the symbol of Lakshmi, the goddess of prosperity and wealth. When the daughters had to be married and they took away the wealth to another family, gradually they began to be regarded as drains on the family well-being. On the other hand sons brought in wealth, pride and prestige through alliances with girls from well-to-do families.
It was another matter that many of the women who were backed by wealth managed to isolate their husbands from their own families and made to set up nuclear units. The scenario is changing in urban families where educated girls are also seen as bread earners. The extravagant spending at weddings is still not under control and very often a family’s savings can be completely blown up at a wedding.
The winds of change are blowing with many alliances being forged by the couple themselves. It will be interesting to watch whether there will be a time when the women will demand a dowry from the boy’s family. This is after all supposed to be a woman’s century, right?
This Sunday—28th was suddenly declared as daughter’s day. I am a daughter, I have a daughter and a daughter-in-law and two granddaughters. So that is a lot of reason to celebrate. Being a daughter in Indian society has always been perceived to be that of a second class human being in the family structure. There have been many daughters who have been favourites of parents that history records. There is also the horrific statistics about Female infanticide that reflect a sick society.
As a daughter I have been given the most love, respect and honour. In fact in Hindu rituals the daughter of the house and her husband are given the honours first in recognition of their importance in the family dynamics. How this got eroded and daughters became a symbol of burden is dictated to entirely by the horrors of dowry. Girls were honoured as the symbol of Lakshmi, the goddess of prosperity and wealth. When the daughters had to be married and they took away the wealth to another family, gradually they began to be regarded as drains on the family well-being. On the other hand sons brought in wealth, pride and prestige through alliances with girls from well-to-do families.
It was another matter that many of the women who were backed by wealth managed to isolate their husbands from their own families and made to set up nuclear units. The scenario is changing in urban families where educated girls are also seen as bread earners. The extravagant spending at weddings is still not under control and very often a family’s savings can be completely blown up at a wedding.
The winds of change are blowing with many alliances being forged by the couple themselves. It will be interesting to watch whether there will be a time when the women will demand a dowry from the boy’s family. This is after all supposed to be a woman’s century, right?
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Global financial crunch
(From the Net)
Financial Melt down has caused a great concern world over. Sometimes solutions may be easy, provided we understand the finance & financing. The following story from a small town explains it well.Read on …… Money!It is August. In a small town on the South Coast of France, holiday season is in full swing, but it is raining so there is not too much business happening. Everyone is heavily in debt. Luckily, a rich Russian tourist arrives in the foyer of the small local hotel. He asks for a room and puts a €100 note on the reception counter, takes a key and goes to inspect the room located up the stairs on the third floor. The hotel owner takes the € 100 banknote in hurry and rushes to his meat supplier to whom he owes €100. The butcher takes the money and races to his wholesale supplier to pay his debt. The wholesaler rushes to the farmer to pay €100 for pigs he purchased some time ago. The farmer triumphantly gives the €100 note to a local prostitute who gave him her services on credit. The prostitute goes quickly to the hotel, as she owed the hotel for her hourly room use to entertain clients. At that moment, the rich Russian is coming down to reception and informs the hotel owner that the proposed room is unsatisfactory and takes his €100 back and departs. There was no profit or income. But everyone no longer has any debt and the small town people look optimistically towards their future. COULD THIS BE THE SOLUTION TO THE Global Financial Crisis? Or, is there a catch here?
Friday, April 10, 2009
Moonlight Meals
The waning moon peeps in through my window. The sea breeze has set in. The curtains are opened out and yet the grill bars the clear view of tree tops. There is even a dog that is howling.
Halcyon days of childhood when the Nila saapadu would be planned rush into my thoughts. A trail of kids, siblings, cousins, neighbours, visiting friends, carrying things would snake up the steps to the terrace of our bungalow and spread mats and jamakkalams (rugs) and sprawl around. Jugs of water to drink, stainless steel glasses, a bucket of water and a mug, a torch were the equipment. Then Amma would labour up the steps carrying a huge vessel mixed with rice and gravy and another elder or maid would bring another vessel with curd rice and pickles.
We would all sit in a circle and the story would start—Vedalam, Ramayanam , Mahabharatham, with every dollop of food dropped by Amma into the centre of our outstretched palms, one by one, that would go plop into our hungry mouths. No complaints, no slow eating, no moans or groans, no likes or dislikes—the food would just disappear into our gullets. Suddenly after a round Amma would exclaim, “Oh I forgot the Appalam/vadam” and one of the older kids would be sent downstairs to fetch the sambadam in which the crunchy munchies would have been stored airtight. The curd rice followed with a tangy touch of tamaring gravy or tangy, freshly-made, baby mango—vadumanagai—pickle.
And then we were all presented with a whole mango each and the delight of slurping, sucking, chewing the pulp would shut us up for some time. It was summer and we would just curl up and go to sleep on the terrace, in the open, after chatting, fighting, crying, laughing and then yawning our way into a replete slumber.
This was our version of a picnic and slumber party thrown into one!
Halcyon days of childhood when the Nila saapadu would be planned rush into my thoughts. A trail of kids, siblings, cousins, neighbours, visiting friends, carrying things would snake up the steps to the terrace of our bungalow and spread mats and jamakkalams (rugs) and sprawl around. Jugs of water to drink, stainless steel glasses, a bucket of water and a mug, a torch were the equipment. Then Amma would labour up the steps carrying a huge vessel mixed with rice and gravy and another elder or maid would bring another vessel with curd rice and pickles.
We would all sit in a circle and the story would start—Vedalam, Ramayanam , Mahabharatham, with every dollop of food dropped by Amma into the centre of our outstretched palms, one by one, that would go plop into our hungry mouths. No complaints, no slow eating, no moans or groans, no likes or dislikes—the food would just disappear into our gullets. Suddenly after a round Amma would exclaim, “Oh I forgot the Appalam/vadam” and one of the older kids would be sent downstairs to fetch the sambadam in which the crunchy munchies would have been stored airtight. The curd rice followed with a tangy touch of tamaring gravy or tangy, freshly-made, baby mango—vadumanagai—pickle.
And then we were all presented with a whole mango each and the delight of slurping, sucking, chewing the pulp would shut us up for some time. It was summer and we would just curl up and go to sleep on the terrace, in the open, after chatting, fighting, crying, laughing and then yawning our way into a replete slumber.
This was our version of a picnic and slumber party thrown into one!
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Maa Pyari Ma!
Today is the Thithi, or the death anniversary of my mother Anusuya according to the lunar Indian calendar. It is ten years since she passed away. The first mail that I get this morning is from my cyber friend Shyloo who forwarded this link. http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/04/business/global/04indiamom.html?_r=1&emc=eta1
Thank you Shyloo for timing it so right. God bless you.
Another coincidence was that an old friend, Sundari Mani, who uses a walker due to severe arthritis called yesterday and asked me to spread the message that she and a group of ladies are running a small social service organization called Dr Muthulakshmi Reddy Women's Association. They have some wheelchairs and walkers for rent at a very nominal price for the needy. She can be contacted at 044-2811 0645
We siblings have donated both these equipment in memory of our mother in the past years and it was as if Amma called out to me and said give a few more. She had to use a walker when she had knee surgery and only used a wheelchair in hospitals which she was very fond of visiting--she has had some seven major surgeries apart from cataracts on both eyes:)) Her indomitable spirit lives in us for all of us are rickety in terms of joints and limbs. But you wont find us sitting around and we are on the go all the time.
My mother was so many things to us, the four siblings. She was also a great deal more to many other people. I am just sharing my thoughts with all of you and the lovely article in the NY Times that will find a resonance in all your minds.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
FAMILY VALUES AND TRADITIONS
Human birth is a rare privilege say the Hindu Shastras. It is the result of our punya karma, accumulated over several births. Human beings are also endowed with the unique capacity of “free will” that governs their actions. This makes them choose their path do things that benefit family and society or to do things contrary to the natural order.
Many Indians trace their birth to the lineage of a sage or gotra. This is a blood lineage that has lost its relevance with intra and inter-marriages. It is the patriarch or the matriarch of a family who establishes the values and traditions for all its members. This may include upholding dharma (interpreted as fairness and honesty in this case) following principles, love for learning and erudition, observance of tradition and culture, philanthropy, hospitality and conserving resources—monetary, interpersonal and intrapersonal.
The problem arises when the head of the family has an overpowering personality and dislikes losing power and omits to facilitate the transition smoothly. They do not plan a proper line of succession, not only monetarily but also to carry on the traditions and values. A modification in these values and traditions do take place in the changing generations. New and better ones may take their place or they could be eroded.
Many of the younger generation bask in the glory of their ancestors for all the wrong reasons and lead a shadow existence without building up on the base already established. They fail to develop their own identity and do not recognize that their birth in a family is Eswara prasada or a divine gift. In many families, with the break up of the joint family system the observance of traditions and upholding values is becoming more and more difficult. Migration, distances, lack of the proper infrastructure is leading to what is being called simplification in rituals and rites. On the other hand there are some people who go to a great extent to keep the home atmosphere alive in spite of physical difficulties. Festivals, rituals are observed and traditions passed on to a new generation.
However values may be difficult to observe and sustain in a particular environment. Take vegetarianism or abstaining from liquor. In modern times these traditions are losing their importance. Of course, when people become older, the call of roots and family traditions become stronger and these practices are dusted and resurrected.
Only when an individual lives and follows traditions and values with an open mind, does the family background become meaningful. Claims of birth merely establish monetary or situational superiority. When we understand and apply a particular ‘value’, it becomes easy to observe with all its merit in daily lives.
Many Indians trace their birth to the lineage of a sage or gotra. This is a blood lineage that has lost its relevance with intra and inter-marriages. It is the patriarch or the matriarch of a family who establishes the values and traditions for all its members. This may include upholding dharma (interpreted as fairness and honesty in this case) following principles, love for learning and erudition, observance of tradition and culture, philanthropy, hospitality and conserving resources—monetary, interpersonal and intrapersonal.
The problem arises when the head of the family has an overpowering personality and dislikes losing power and omits to facilitate the transition smoothly. They do not plan a proper line of succession, not only monetarily but also to carry on the traditions and values. A modification in these values and traditions do take place in the changing generations. New and better ones may take their place or they could be eroded.
Many of the younger generation bask in the glory of their ancestors for all the wrong reasons and lead a shadow existence without building up on the base already established. They fail to develop their own identity and do not recognize that their birth in a family is Eswara prasada or a divine gift. In many families, with the break up of the joint family system the observance of traditions and upholding values is becoming more and more difficult. Migration, distances, lack of the proper infrastructure is leading to what is being called simplification in rituals and rites. On the other hand there are some people who go to a great extent to keep the home atmosphere alive in spite of physical difficulties. Festivals, rituals are observed and traditions passed on to a new generation.
However values may be difficult to observe and sustain in a particular environment. Take vegetarianism or abstaining from liquor. In modern times these traditions are losing their importance. Of course, when people become older, the call of roots and family traditions become stronger and these practices are dusted and resurrected.
Only when an individual lives and follows traditions and values with an open mind, does the family background become meaningful. Claims of birth merely establish monetary or situational superiority. When we understand and apply a particular ‘value’, it becomes easy to observe with all its merit in daily lives.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
End of exams celebrations--the environment
I was out shopping in the corner mini market. It was evening time and suddenly there was a hullabaloo outside and a bunch of strapping young men rushed into the shop smeared with Holi powder, a virulent pink at that. Holi had gone by some time back and I was wondering what the occasion was.
When I walked out of the shop about twenty boys were hanging around all in high spirits with the tell tale pink powder smeared on them. The front of the store and the neighbouring bakery was littered with the pink powder, smeared, heaped, scattered any which way. I deduced that +12 exams had just got over and the boys were in exuberant spirits.
However, I was angry at the way they had dirtied the neighbourhood and asked them in a raised tone, “Who has done this?” each one shrugged off responsibility, or shook their heads in denial though the evidence was patent. One showed me that he was the victim for his paper had gone off extremely well and he was the nerd who had to be congratulated/ penalised.
I continued “Is this not a public place? How can you, educated and knowledgeable boys, do this?” Again there was no reply and I was being looked on by all the passers by in a strange manner. The auto drivers too, who knew me well, looked on wondering, “What has happened to this Amma she is shrieking in rage?”
I went into the bakery and cooled down, did my purchases and walked out. The heap of electric pink powder on the pavement poked fun at me. The boys who were still hanging around turned away when they saw me. “Boys! I am sorry” I said. “I should not have yelled at you. I was upset that you youngsters who are so much more aware of environment have done this. Do you think that this was correct? Should not celebrations be done in a private space, within your homes? Who has the responsibility of cleaning this mess? Then your generation blames mine for spoiling the earth and environment…”
There was silence. One lanky boy came up bravely and said, “Sorry Aunty! I did not do it but I will clean up this mess”. He then rounded up a couple of his friends, got some paper and picked up most of the powder from the pavement. When I tried to help with my creaky knees, they kindly said, “No! We will do it”.
I walked back home with a good feeling. The original fault was mine for losing my temper. The lads were on the defensive and passed the buck. Yet when I apologised, the youngsters immediately responded positively and cleaned the mess up. However, the pavement, after nearly a week still brandishes the pink stains.
When I walked out of the shop about twenty boys were hanging around all in high spirits with the tell tale pink powder smeared on them. The front of the store and the neighbouring bakery was littered with the pink powder, smeared, heaped, scattered any which way. I deduced that +12 exams had just got over and the boys were in exuberant spirits.
However, I was angry at the way they had dirtied the neighbourhood and asked them in a raised tone, “Who has done this?” each one shrugged off responsibility, or shook their heads in denial though the evidence was patent. One showed me that he was the victim for his paper had gone off extremely well and he was the nerd who had to be congratulated/ penalised.
I continued “Is this not a public place? How can you, educated and knowledgeable boys, do this?” Again there was no reply and I was being looked on by all the passers by in a strange manner. The auto drivers too, who knew me well, looked on wondering, “What has happened to this Amma she is shrieking in rage?”
I went into the bakery and cooled down, did my purchases and walked out. The heap of electric pink powder on the pavement poked fun at me. The boys who were still hanging around turned away when they saw me. “Boys! I am sorry” I said. “I should not have yelled at you. I was upset that you youngsters who are so much more aware of environment have done this. Do you think that this was correct? Should not celebrations be done in a private space, within your homes? Who has the responsibility of cleaning this mess? Then your generation blames mine for spoiling the earth and environment…”
There was silence. One lanky boy came up bravely and said, “Sorry Aunty! I did not do it but I will clean up this mess”. He then rounded up a couple of his friends, got some paper and picked up most of the powder from the pavement. When I tried to help with my creaky knees, they kindly said, “No! We will do it”.
I walked back home with a good feeling. The original fault was mine for losing my temper. The lads were on the defensive and passed the buck. Yet when I apologised, the youngsters immediately responded positively and cleaned the mess up. However, the pavement, after nearly a week still brandishes the pink stains.
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