Travels to Homeland - Part V

The last few travel essays have featured consumerism and the increasingly luxurious and Westernized lifestyle of India's burgeoning middle class. This has led to reactions from my American-born friends that ask upon reading my memoirs about whether I find everything back home perfect or are there things that I don't much care for? My response to them is that just like everything else that has two sides, India is no exception. Of course, being so far away from one's roots and for so long, nostalgia tends to make one view the past through rose-tinted glasses...

But make no mistake, India is far from any kind of Utopia-very far.... It has got some serious socio-economic problems that are so deeply ingrained that it is going to take a lot of determined effort on many levels to uproot them from both real life and mass-psyche. As is well-known and also well-expounded in many Western forums, Indian masses live very poorly and there is an urgent need to address consistently and persistently, I may add, India's problems of poverty, ignorance and disease on a number of fronts. Undoubtedly, the rich-poor gap is very very wide.

Since I am a city girl, I plan to talk about the people who were a part of my life in that they worked for my parents, many of whom were still working for my family during my many visits home. I am going to show here pictures of real people in the cities who labor hard, day in day out to make ends meet, while at the same time trying to provide a better future for their kids. Hopefully, the human stories behind each of these pictures will provide a flavor of the lifestyle of the urban masses better than mere numbers and statistics.

And hopefully, my friends and family, who complain about the rough deal given to India's image in the West, will forgive me for my honest reflections and still invite me into their homes in Delhi.

Standing below is a mother with her two young daughters - they are standing in the back alley. Most hired help back home typically uses the rear entrance to enter straight into the work area which includes the kitchen, courtyard etc. This lady used to wash the dishes, clean the house and perform other chores in my family home. She was very protective about her adolescent daughters and would bring them to work with her and not leave them out of her sight for a minute.

The dowry system though legally banned is still rampant to a greater extent among the poor, so the parents start collecting their daughters' dowry when they are very young - which essentially means that the economic burden of making ends meet is further heightened by the dowry pressure without which a good match is literally impossible. And nothing could be worse in their limited world than an unmarried daughter who would then definitely be considered a lifelong burden!!!
Here is another picture of the two sisters barely fifteen and sixteen, who am sure had never attended school or if so, probably only for a year or two before they were pulled out to accompany their mother either due to her well-justified fear of leaving her young girls behind, alone in the unsavory living conditions or just because of their plain need for money. The daughters were to be married off shortly and sent to their husbands' homes where they would take care of the in-laws and become part of the extended family, have many kids, work to make ends meet and on and on, getting further steeped in drudgery. Thus starting the vicious cycle of struggle all over again. These women typify the rural workers who come to the cities for jobs, but still have families in their villages where, most likely, these girls were going... One could write a book on the socio-cultural mores, so I will limit it to the basic details. This family is originally from the state of Bihar in Eastern India. Unmarried girls generally dress quite modestly contrary to the half-naked beauties that are a staple of the Bollywood fantasy.(In the background, one can notice the original Indian car, the Ambassador, before the advent of the modern Maruti.) I remember vividly how mom, who was way ahead of her times, would chide and lecture all the domestic help that came to our house over the years to send their daughers to the free schools that the government had started for the lower-income families, but to no avail. Mom was such an idealist, she would buy notebooks and pencils and offer to teach the girls, the basic three Rs, but of course the working mothers would insist that the entire family had to get jobs to survive. Frustrated and bowing to the deeply entrenched traditions, mom would ultimately try and help by by giving our maids new clothes and household goods etc. to help financially with the dowry preparation... I must say, mom was not unique in this respect, as other educated families in Delhi tried to help by such means, especially if the ties were old and strong... Clearly while noble, these random and isolated acts of kindness are not enough to address the problem of all pervasive poverty...

Now let me introduce you to our other help - this time to perform janitorial responsibilities, primarily the cleaning of the bathrooms etc. (Yes-it is true that I cried the first time I had to clean my own bathroom when I started living in the US!)This woman- a city slum dweller was my favorite. (Note her subtly bolder dressing style and stance compared to the rural-urban women above.) She was feisty, proud and a feminist in her own way. I suspect that she did not have a very supportive husband-that she was married is evident from the red dot and general attire. A happy soul, an optimist whose family was totally settled in the city for years, she was always ebullient in spirit.
At this point I have to admit, I am ashamed of this part of our culture where we had what is called the "untouchable" class in India. Even though, the prime focus of Gandhiji's philosophy was the elimination of this hateful concept and the government has been taking affirmative actions for their upliftment, many folks back home still will not allow someone doing this job to come into the interiors of their homes beyond the bathrooms, which had a separate entrance for this purpose. Again, I am proud to say, my parents did not give a damn for this nonsense and this lady, Shanti Jr. (as we called her after her mother) was given full respect in our home. She used to come right inside our home and unburden herself before my wise mother who would again plead with her to send her kids to schools over a cup of tea. Mother just never gave up...

This happy soul who cleaned bathrooms in many homes, would change her work clothes at the end of her workday and dress up for going to the bazaar (market) to buy nice trinkets for herself. (She specially asked me to take her picture in her fresh change of clothes). Below is a picture of a lovely teenage Afghan girl whose Muslim family had fallen onto hard times when their business failed in the recent years after India's partition. (Despite the partition many Muslims remained in India and did not migrate to Pakistan.) They had come to dad, a lawyer, for help and work. At a time when there was lot of tension between the Hindus and Muslims as well as religious and dietary taboos especially from the Hindu side, my parents sort of adopted this Muslim family. Three generations worked for us almost like family members. They were the best cooks we have ever had. Proud and loyal, this family would not accept any monetary help, if they could not pay for it. They served mom till she passed on, especially the little girl who used to sit by mom while she was ailing, refusing to move even when mom told her to go take a nap...

This charmingly shy girl (she wouldn't even look at the camera)was the grand-daugher who stayed at our place while her mother went to earn her livelihood by cooking in other homes. Barely, twelve or thirteen, mother was very upset that her mother was planning to find her a groom in a year, so she sort of chaperoned her during the day and took it upon herself to teach her basic reading and writing. In other words, mom and this kid "hung out" together till her mother came to pick her up in the evenings.
Finally, here are pictures of this lady who was a sort of housekeeper at our place during the last few months of mother's life. This lady belonged to what is called a lower-income family where folks are educated to some extent, but are not professionals, so they walk a fine line between poverty and basic living standards.
Now this lady had completed high school, had a husband who was not earning much for whatever reason, so she put food on the table by doing two jobs so that she could also buy a proper dowry for her daughter. Apart from a better living situation, the key difference between this woman's family and the others I have discussed is that there was enough awareness at their end about not perpetuating this setup any further, so the kid in the picture is enrolled and is thankfully going to a government-subsidized school.

At this point, I have to show you a picture of a bazaar that is held in different parts of the city on different fixed week-days when vendors from small-scale industries come to sell their wares at low prices targeting the lower-income consumers in urban Delhi. My cousin and I were so enthralled by the beautiful ethnic jewelry that our domestic help was wearing that we insisted on going with her to the market where she bought it. So here we are at bazaar which is set up on the lines of a Farmers' market in US. As you can see from this picture, this bazaar was unbelievably packed. It was heartening to see that however stressful their daily-life struggles, these women took immense pride in their appearance and their feminity as was apparent from the kind of unbelievable variety of costume jewelry, clothes and make-up, we found there. Needless to say, we went into a shopping frenzy...

An interesting social norm that I observed among the extremely poor urban classes was that they don't have the time, inclination or means to bother with troublesome formalities like filing for divorce etc. Also the women are strong with a sense of great pride coupled with a no-nonsense manner. Due to a pragmatism borne of an exceedingly difficult life full of daily vicissitudes, they just take charge, and often throw out the man if he doesn't deliver and find another one who does. (Of course, I am being a tad facetious here, but the point I am making is that I noticed that these women move on very fast if their husbands abandoned them or they will have no qualms in leaving the ineffectual men in their lives and moving in with another, if their needs are not met.) Societal approval be damned! No questions asked - after all the women are also breadwinners. These women,feminist in their own right, were certainly not victims of middle class morality and affectations. Growing up, I always marveled at their rules based on practical morality and justice. I still do.

Further, despite their daily struggle for existence, consumerism has touched the lives of the urban working classes also in terms of owning TVs and other appliances which were earlier, both foreign and totally beyond their reach. Even if they cannot own these luxuries themselves, hired help in the cities avoid working in homes where such amenities are not accessible to them. Here is a picture of this young lady who was hired by my niece to baby-sit her daughter. This girl, who arrived from a village to the city, had become very adept at using all the modern appliances and addicted to the Disney channel. In short, she had become used to living in the lap of luxury, but by sad irony was heading back to get married in her native village where there was most likely no electricity or running water... But she would adjust to her lot and live a life of a dutiful wife procreating hopefully many sons... Clearly, even among the urban poor, there are different levels and types. One the one hand, you have the rural folks who have migrated to the cities to earn their living and who still try to cling to their simple customs of an agrarian lifestyle, and are generally among the poorest and on the other are folks who are almost totally rooted in the city having lost their village ties completely over the years. And then there are those in the lower-income group who are semi-educated-just enough to escape abject poverty, but not completely and thus are caught in the twilight zone between the two worlds of haves and the have-nots. Interestingly, in terms of morality, this economic class veers actually towards acute conservative values in sharp contrast to their more poverty-stricken brethren who have their own moral codes.

The portraits I have drawn are only to illustrate the fact that undeniably, there are two different worlds-the rich and the poor- existing in India side by side and that a lot has to be done before true progress can be claimed...

Travels to Homeland - Part IV

You will notice from this pictorial journey that almost all my trips to India were made in the fall and winter season which is truly the best time to visit Delhi. (In all these years, I have only made two trips to Delhi in summer due to extremely sad circumstances when I had to be there) Winters in Delhi’s semi-arid weather run from November through February. The mornings are chilly and dull followed by bright sunlight when most of Delhi's population finds time and ways to bask in the beautiful afternoon weather.

Anyway let's continue with the Delhi "Yatra" (Hindi word for tour)...


Here I am standing against the Rashtrapati Bhawan, the magnificent residence of the President of India which till 1950 was the residence of the British Governor-General of India. I have to say that I somehow felt letdown when I saw the White House in DC for the first time. It just did not match up architecturally to the visual splendour that I had taken for granted all my life, back home. This picture was taken a few days in January after the Republic day parade. Note the bleacher-like seats that were in the process of being taken down in the photo...The above picture does not do justice to the true majesty of the historical residence. (picasaweb.google.com/.../jtTkPXjwQY8hylJAG-gf8A) Rashtrapati Bhawan on January 29, 2008 after India's Republic Day on January 26. Republic Day is India's national holiday when the Indian constitution came into force and India became a truly sovereign Republic on January 26, 1950. www.luxeindia.in

In the following picture, I am with a close college friend with whom I reconnected after years. She is now a very senior bureaucrat in the Indian government having made it through the gruelling Civil Service examination , success in which ensures entry to topmost positions in the government. We are standing against one of the Indian Ministry buildings. The government headquarters are all in the central part of the capital with it beautifully manicured lawns and well-designed roads leading to different parts of the city...
Now let me give you a flavour of India's five-star hotels- unbeatable in their beauty and opulence. The two pictures below were taken inside Hotel Taj part of India's leading industry group now a powerful multinational based in Bombay- the renownedTatas. Note the unbelievable decorations on the walls and ceilings of this hotel's lobby, the marble floors and handiwork. I had forgotten how luxurious the atmosphere was till we had lunch there which cost us a pretty penny and that too only in the hotel's coffee shop!!! Believe me that was no "Coffee" shop. This kind of decor is typical of India's five star hotels which make the American hotels truly look plain by comparison and I am not exaggerating or being overly sentimental here. Just ask the international travelers who return from business trips after stays in these plush accomodations. This hotel is again in heart of Delhi close to the government and the main business center, Connaught place.

The photos below show a section of Delhi that is much further from the central part and is en route to the airport... The first picture shows Baku and I with my aunt in front of the DSOI (Defence Services Officers Institute) commonly known as Dhaula Kuan club obviously restricted to the armed forces and more fun and down to earth than the other very elitist club in Delhi, the Gymkhana club about which I will talk another time. My uncle, mom's brother, whose wife is seen here, is a retired army officer. It is a sort of tradition that whenever we visit them, we are taken to the club for sumptious Indian meals. In India, military families were always considered the more modern and the "with it" crowd so the club held fun dances every now and then, to which I and my cousins/friends were often invited. I still recall vividly how tongue-tied we young college girls used to get before the handsome young men in uniform. And we were young not only in years, but in exposure due to our sheltered lifestyles, so we were literally chaperoned to these events. (In India in my time, we completed high school by sixteen or no later than seventeen and an undergrad degree was completed by nineteen or twenty latest... One reason was many parents started their kids' school education at a much earlier age as there were no minimum age rules in those years. I believe it has all changed now.)

Note the car in the picture - this is a Maruti-Suzuki, the most popular "people's car" in India. Maruti began operations in 1983 together with Suzuki Motor Corporation of Japan. It has an interesting background about how it started being manufactured in India when the Indian car customers had barely any automobile options. Of course, the entire auto landscape has changed metamorphically now with everything else, but this small and compact fuel-efficient car still dominates the Indian roads...

More Delhi travels later - the Yatra continues...

Travels to Homeland - Part III

Let’s continue with the Delhi travels. I have to admit each time I go home, I too get a culture shock. Of course not in the sense as visitors from the Western world do, but a jolt in terms of how the country has rapidly changed and continues to advance in terms of the expansive consumerism and luxurious lifestyle characterized by modern amenities that are now considered must-haves as opposed to being considered almost unattainable luxuries when the country was dominated by the public sector when I left in 80s. The awareness and pride among the Indians about their country’s rapid progress ever since the restructuring of the Indian economy in 90s (Liberalization, Privatization and Globalization) is evident from the Indian media writings and general conversations with the average Indian citizen. And this pride shows up in a number of political forums-I truly believe that the West has to be really sensitive to India’s new found place in the hierarchy of nations if it wants India’s cooperation on a number of pressing issues like climate change etc.

The following pictures will illustrate to some extent the changing face of Delhi and the increasing Western influence on the urban landscape.

The pictures immediately below are of a very upscale shopping complex in Delhi near the beautifully planned and maintained Diplomatic Enclave and Chanakyapuri where all the embassies from the different countries are situated along with the residences of the embassy staff. Naturally, the Indian government really focuses on this area in terms of its image.
Santushti Shopping Complex caters to the elite. It is about thirty of so boutiques surrounding a beautiful landscaped area - like a courtyard. The prices in this private arcade, the favorite haunt of the embassy crowd and Hillary and Chelsea Clinton during their 2006 visit, are extremely exorbitant. To say, it is not the best spot for bargains is a joke! I took one look at the price tags in a couple of boutiques and literally ran from there, only to just focus on the beautiful landscape thereafter.
Here I am with a another dear friend at a favorite Chinese restaurant in Delhi's Connaught Place. This restaurant known as Berco's is so popular that there are always lunch lines waiting to get in. The manager and the staff recognized me after years and gave me a warm welcome because my friends and I frequented this place at least once a week when I lived there. Great food, nice decor and reasonable prices. I must say that the best Chinese food I have ever had has been in Delhi. I recall the first time I ate Chinese food in Washington, I almost wept because I was pregnant and literally craving that cuisine only to be so bitterly disappointed. American Chinese dishes have different names are relatively sweet and full of peanuts and cashews and completely bland compared compared to the Chinese food back home where it is served with vinegar and other sauces and without any any kind of intrusive nuts and corn etc. While I would like to believe that the Indian Chinese food is authentic even though there is no Chinatown in any Indian city other than in Calcutta - in truth, Chinese food in India is almost as Indian as Indian food itself which is why I enjoy Chinese food made in Indian restaurants in US as opposed to the Chinese restaurants. Bottom-line, we Indians just don't like anything bland!

Here I am in Starbuck's equivalent in India. Actually to be honest, more upscale. Coffee shops known as Baristas have cropped up all over the city. This is a homegrown enterprise unlike Starbucks which I last heard was also planning to make a foray into India. Remember India has a tea-drinking culture which is deeply ingrained in the Indians whichever part of the world they may settle in. (Ask my long-suffering co-workers in DC who groan very audibly when it is 3.30 p.m.and I am holding up everyone in the employee lounge when I start my many-step process of brewing tea at the right temperature for my afternoon cuppa.) Anyway, these Barista are hangouts for the hip young professionals with their designer brands and lot of money to spend due to good salaries coupled with the Indian cultural tradition of staying with parents till at least they marry, thus enabling an easy cash flow. Thus Baristas are again a reflection on the desire of the youth in India to enjoy a flavor of the "Western Experience".
Here are pictures of two American Chain restaurants in Delhi, TGIF and Ruby Tuesday. Of course, I did not eat there as I had no desire to pay for an insanely priced salad bar. Remember these US chains have entered the Indian markets but they do not cater to the average Indian's earning ability. These restaurants target the burgeoning rich middle-classes for whom these American restaurants are a novelty-at least initially. For an NRI like me or non-resident Indian as we Indians settled abroad are referred to, our real hankering is for the delicious and unparalleled Indian cuisine only found back home... I must add that McDonald's is doing great business in India and that all these American franchises normally substitute mutton or goat meat for beef and customize the names of the regular menu items to suit Indian palate and taste. I can tell you with confidence that the McDonald's mutton or veggie burger (most Indians are vegetarians) are much tastier than their American counterparts. Above is again a picture of an outdoor eating place which again is not cheap by the common man's standards. I doubt that I would visit such an eating joint regularly if I didn't have the power of the dollar behind me.

Essentially the pictures above reflect the impact of liberalization and globalization of the Indian economy on the expanding Indian middle class which is undoubtedly the economy's greatest strength...

Travels to Homeland- Part II

Yesterday, I wrote about a state fair held in Delhi's Connaught Place to depict the rural and folk arts of Western India. Those pictures belied the hubbub that is characteristic of the second largest commercial and business center in India built by the British in early 1930s. The following pictures will give a a better idea of how busy and urban the heart of the capital truly is...

Note the traffic and the number of cars that are parked. The Metro now serves this busy area along with other public transportation like buses etc. Parking as I stated in an earlier post is next to impossibleand one has to hand over the car keys to sort of outside valets to find a spot. And you leave your car in neutral gear for them to manoevre around as needed. Next to me is my best friend in Delhi acting crazy. Ours is a lifetime bond where even though we don't talk to each other for years, when we do, we pick up as if there was no gulf due to decades of my absence from India. She is in a sari-the traditional Indian dress which is considered the most dignified Indian attire and I am in a woollen tunic worn with pants that is the traditional dress of women in Kashmir -perfect for Delhi winter and incredibly comfortable. The authentic traditional clothes in India are all handwoven especially the silk and woollen clothes in rich earthy hues with exquisite hand-embroidery. The dot on my friend's forehead is the Bindi about which a lot of folks ask about in US. It is important for a married woman to wear a red bindi as it signifies her wedded state- something like the wedding ring. Marriage is certainly not taken lightly in India which is why you will see many Indian women here in US wearing the all-Western garb but still holding on to the Bindi on their foreheads. Of course, now a bindi is also a fashion statement when it is worn in different colors to match the worn ensemble. However it has deep symbolism in Indian culture. The red powder, called Sindoor, in my friend's parting is even more critical than a Bindi for a woman who is married.

Finally note the guy behind us. He is one who had just parked my friend's car. What I truly found to be a cultural revolution on my first trip was the number of Indian women who were driving-almost equal number as men. When I left, driving was basically left to the men. This to me was indicative of women's increasing independence and awareness of their place in society. A big big change from when I left for US...Above pictures show me standing in front of Indian Government's biggest undertaking to preserve Indian handicrafts- The Central Cottage Industries Emporium. Popularily called "The Cottage", it is anything but with its lavish interior and heavy security to the point-I think-you are not even allowed to take pictures of the inside. It has the largest and most amazing collection of exotic and authentic Indian crafts reflecting 5000 years of heritage made to exacting standards by master craftsmen from all over the country. See for instance behind me, the invaluable statue of the dancing God Shiva known as the "Nataraja,"the most revered God in Hinduism. The dance indicates life's ebb and flow, the circle cosmic energy and the demon at his feet, the triumph over spiritual ignorance. When I go back home, for shopping, I just head over to the air-conditioned one-stop handicraft heaven and get into a buying frenzy grabbing everything from household stuff to traditional Indian clothes for taking back to US. The Cottage is the most popular shopping haunt of foreign tourists who really splurge because you get top quality, but you also pay for it! Prices are very steep. Earlier the dollar used to go a long way in India but no more. It has fallen a lot against the Indian Rupee. You certainly feel the pinch when you get your credit card statements back home in US. Nonetheless, this is my indulgence and as soon as I have recovered from my jet lag- my friends in Delhi know just where to take me.

Stay tuned. The Delhi tour continues...

Travels to Homeland- Part I of Many More

This weekend, I spent time in quiet introspection looking at the family pictures of visits back home over the years. In the almost twenty-two years I have been here, I have been back home in New Delhi, India, many times. Frankly, I have lost count, but I do know that after my first visit which was seven years after my arrival in Washington DC in January 87, I went back almost every other year as my parents got older. The earlier visits were wonderful reunions with family and friends, the last few have been exceeding painful due to tragedies that have hit the family consecutively one after the other.

My Thinking Behind the Pictorial Journey
What I would like to do is focus on the wonderful memories and share the stories behind the pictures that I am posting here for a number of reasons including a persistent desire to set the score straight with respect to the Western media-hype about India which typically project isolated negative incidents from back home as the norm. At the same time, I want to provide a sense of balance to the flagrant violation of India's true reality by Bollywood moviemakers. Last and certainly not the least, I want to satisfy the genunine curiosity of my American-born friends about my world back home.

Am a True Delhite!
Since I was born, brought and educated in Delhi, my visits were mainly to spend time at my family home. I am a city girl to the core and it is true what they say back home once a Delhite, always a Delhite regardless of where your new home is…

The pictures that follow will not follow any chronological pattern, but will be interspersed to follow my thoughts.

First I have to share this picture of our arrival at the Indira Gandhi International Airport in Delhi for our first visit in 1994. Believe me, and you must, since I have landed at almost every international airport due to my India trips, all airports begin to look alike after a point though Delhi is special for me with it jewelry shops where I bargain shamelessly in Hindi with the store owners while they make the most profit from my Western counterparts... I arrived much to my family's amazement and grudging admiration with four large suitcases, two handbags and a small child who climbed into my lap in terror and refused to get down till I sat in the family car because he had never seen so MANY people in his young life! The huge crowds at the airport certainly symbolized India's teaming population. And I underwent all this tremendous discomfort because of my greed to shop and return with the beautiful handicrafts from back home. I have become better but only this much...

A Day in Connaught Place -at a State Fair
Given below are pictures of Baku in Delhi in 1994, when he was about five years old. The following pictures seem to reinforce the stereotype of India being the land of snake charmers, but that could not be further from the truth. These pictures were taken at a fair organized by the government in the heart of New Delhi's busiest shopping and commercial area characterized by buildings from the British era as I will show in the subsequent pictures...

The craftsmen seen here are from Rajasthan a desert state in Western India and were brought in by the city to exhibit their wares and skills to the urban crowd. Rajasthan is one of the most sought after foreign tourist destinations in India with its beautiful medieval architecture and palaces that were the homes of many princely families under British India. Most of the palaces have been converted into hotels,the luxury and beauty of which cannot be translated into words. Here Baku is watching a string puppet-show which is the hallmark of Rajasthani rural entertainment. Handmade string puppets are used deftly to tell a story normally with a moral to educate the masses. It is an ancient folk-art which was and still continues to be a powerful communication tool. In face of modern means of mass communication like TV and video etc, the state government is working hard to keep this ancient art of folklore alive by holding regular shows and other means of patronage. This is the common theme with respect to preserving many of India's ancient handicrafts and arts. More on that as we continue. Here the youngman is peering through a contraption called the cinemascope (unless memory fails me completely, I think that is what this item was called) which is actually an interesting blend of music from the gramophone and pictures from movies that turn inside in tune to the hand-cranked music. This was something that was very popular when I was Baku's age. We kids would wait for the street vendor to show up, beg for money to pay him and watch the show. Imagine a bunch of kids all huddled and hustling together in excitement peeping through the apertures. Of course there was the usual grumbling of the parents that the show was not long enough and the guy was cheating them. Of course, these were the pre-TV days! And now here of course is the picture of India's proverbial snake charmers that were more ubiquitious in Rajasthan and could be seen on road sides and other tourist spots acting in a way as India's ambassadors for tourism. No Westerner thought his visit to India was complete without a picture with these icons. All this is rapidly changing now due to India's Wildlife Protection Act and cobras, the snakes that are normally used for this show are now among India's endangered species.
Note the turban worn by the snake charmer and a couple of kids. These rich colored turbans in Rajasthan are considered a vital part of a man's attire and not wearing one indicates poor taste. A turban symbolizes dignity, a man's station in life, profession, hometown and other personal details.

I plan to visit India again this time to go around the country outside Delhi and experience the rich culture and heritage that one takes for granted till you move away... Baku is quite keen to visit India as an adult now and I am more than happy to get him in touch in the real sense with his roots...

Pet Peeves - Parking Pains – Part II

That's me on the prowl as a super sleuth very early am to checkout the habitual parking offenders in my neighborhood.

Time for Action
Increasingly frustrated with the parking situation in my townhouse complex, yours truly, who really doesn’t know how to let sleeping dogs lie, decided to take the initiative in addressing the situation, last month. Apparently, there have been many futile discussions by the Home Owners Board in the past about the need to update the decrepit by-laws to address this issue. Finally, after seeing a car parked in the no- parking zone, essentially the fire lane, I marched up to complain to one of the Board members who basically suggested that I take on the role of the neighborhood sleuth to see who were the culprits in terms of the parking misdemeanors. The Board member asked me to walk around the neighborhood and take down the numbers and makes of the offending cars so that the Board could follow-up with letters of warnings. I was warned by my concerned friends to be discreet in what they believed was an assinine mission that I had taken upon myself... I solemnly promised I would be.

And Super Sleuth I was!
By now, I am sure you know I am someone who believes in tackling every job with enthusiasm especially if she is convinced of its success. For the next few days, I think I must have put Sherlock Holmes to shame walking around in the dark taking down license plates and calling the member with the information in hushed tones on my cell phone. Meanwhile, my dumb basset was not much of a protector in the dark as either he jumped at his own shadow which means he made me jump out of my own skin also or as greedy a beast as he is, he was ready to follow anyone one who smelt of food or gave him a pat on the head. Needless to say, Polo was more a liability than much help. Take it from me, bassets are basically good only as couch potatoes. They are truly just hush puppies. Anyway, I really got into the snoopster role and becoming bolder and contrary to advise given, even started requesting some habitual offenders in person to avoid parking in the guest spots. Of course, I can't help myself. (And this after I had solemnly promised my friends that I would be "discreet" as they rightfully know I can be about as subtle as an eighteen-wheeler. Subtlety is certainly not my forte!)


Evidently my basset Polo was not much of a guard dog in my supersleuth days as when startled by any strange sound or sight, he tried to clamber into my lap and at 73 lbs, a lap dog he is not!!!

Finally the Board Pays Attention
Anyway this exercise did have some constructive outcome because it encouraged other silently seething neighbors to be more proactive and get involved in addressing the parking issue actively. The Homeowners’ Board is now seriously looking into amending the out-dated by-laws and asking for community feedback and participation. I have learned a lot about the legal implications of towing etc. as to how it is not so easy to implement and on and on. Parking misuse is not a new issue – it has been there in varying degrees. I am also sure that it is not unique to our town homes neighborhood, rather is quite ubiquitous in urban complexes in the DC Metropolitan area. So it is no one’s fault really, land is premium in this area, thus parking spaces are just too limited. It is just the nature of the beast. Also I have learned that folks are actually very amenable to reason if you appeal nicely to their good sense. Or perhaps, I was just plain lucky! The couple of habitual violaters I approached bravely were responsive and cooperative after I discussed the issue with them in a non-accusatory manner.

The New Parking "Czar"
Anyway for now, I have handed over this huge mantle to a very wise and smart neighbor who now is the new parking “czar” and is very effectively addressing this issue in his calm manner through a number of ways including the nocturnal checks. Am truly not being sexist here, but being a male of imposing height, way over six feet, is more helpful in juxtaposition to a single woman's limitations. My son who secretly worries about his crazy mom is visibly relieved and has told me unequivocally to take a “chill-pill”. He holds as only a college kid with a black and white world-view can that we are all making a big ado about nothing (especially since his mom hardly has a life or visitors) and should “live and let live”. Do you think there might be some merit in such a philosophy here? I am seriously beginning to wonder...

Pet Peeves - Parking Pains - Part I

Today I want to vent about one of my major pet peeves. To search for parking when you go shopping or in business areas is bad enough, but to have serious parking issues in your own neighborhood due to the thoughtlessness of a few neighbors takes one’s annoyance to whole new level.

The Situation
I truly like the townhouse community where I have been now living for the last six years, but for one issue which often leaves a bad taste and that is abuse of guest parking spaces. Due to our complex's proximity to the Metro and other business areas in Northern VA, there are many single professionals who are renting townhouses as sort of group homes and consequently have more cars than the two assigned/reserved spaces per house. So these renters literally hog the guest spots as extra parking and to escape notice, rotate the household cars in these spots. Pretty ingenious you would think except that trick also become obvious after a point. Consequently, the home owners who genuinely need to use the guest spots invariably find them occupied and are annoyed beyond belief. How irksome it is – is easily discernible once I explain a few typical neighborhood scenarios…


I truly love my neighborhood with its brick-old world townhouses. One hardly feels one is in the middle of one of the busiest areas in NOVA, till you deal with the parking issues...

The Hustle
Folks like me barely entertain much, but do get an occasional visitor. So now not only do I have to stress about the hospitality factor, I have to worry about insuring a parking spot for my friend. Obviously the nearby guest spot is occupied by one of the familiar offending cars. So here I am constantly alert especially the day before my guest is to arrive, watching surreptiously from my kitchen window, and glaring at the guest spot almost willing the car to vanish. And, of course, the culprit will pull out his car when I am not decently attired for the public eye. But do I care? Hell no!!! To my son’s horror, I have run more than once in my pajamas barefooted brandishing my car keys like a woman possessed to move my car into the guest spot… The sense of relief and jubilation that follows is like winning a lottery. The idea is to park one’s car in the guest spot and leave one’s reserved spot for the friend. Agility and quick reflexes are critical as I have learned the hard way. I was almost railroaded once and had the spot taken away from me right under my nose by another frustrated homeowner who thought he was being witty when he stated thereafter, “you snooze you lose”. I haven’t spoken to him since.

Not Conducive to Hosting
Also visualize a bunch of Indian women swathed in graceful saris, precariously carrying pots of curry and other such potluck dishes and tottering in high heels to my place in over 90 degrees temperatures or icy weather from a few blocks away, just because all the nearby guest spots were occupied. Obviously they were quite disgruntled and the party did not get off to a good start. This ain’t Bollywood where women can safely sprint at fast speed in heels and saris with makeup intact. The only positive thing for a lazy entertainer like me is that I am not on top of my friends’ list to host a party. No complaints there.

The Last Straw!
But what truly made me mad beyond belief was arriving home exhausted one late worknight in extremely cold weather with a carload of groceries, only to find one of the neighbor's cable repairman parked in my reserved spot because obviously the guest spot was taken. Not being psychic, I had to literally knock (rather bang impatiently I may add candidly) door to door to find the guy who was quite bewildered to be the recipient of a mouthful while the neighbor tactfully withdrew from the scene. Oh the cable guy was definitely convinced that I was the proverbial witch of the East and you know what – I was!

To continued...

Trials and Tribulations of a Single Mom - A VERY Long Weekend of Many Mother-Son Moments...

Enjoying rich Indian food at a restaurant, not bathroom painting, is high on Baku's agenda as he "enjoys" his summer with me.

This July 4 long weekend has been a very long weekend in more ways than one. Ashim aka Baku is home for the summer and while we have been enjoying an as easy and as close a rapport a mother and son can have, helped greatly by the fact that he is the lord of the lower level which is his domain and I am the queen of the top-most level of our home, we also have our moments. (I highly recommend this living arrangement as one of the keys to success in any lasting relationships where each person has his/her own space and yet is within easy distance.) Anyway, my long time and persistently ignored request to my son to help me with painting our bathroom and touching up our light colored walls in the house brought into play many of these moments this weekend- all at the same time- amusing, aggravating, annoying, educational and heart-warming, depending on when you recall them.

A Bee in My Bonnet about Painting
My home walls and ceiling had for some time been inexplicably peeling in different places. The reason is not a mystery anymore. The previous owner, burned by callous tenants, was so motivated to sell that along with lowering the price, he understandably (contrary to popular opinion- I can look at the other side's viewpoint also) had hastily slapped on poor quality paint without a primer. I discovered this painfully after calling the plumber who must have made the easiest money that day just for the couple of minutes he took to check our walls for seepage.

Our Dismal Store History
Once reassured that the bathroom tub was not going to come flying down into our dining room as my son had feared, he had become extremely laid back about the patch-up paint job we had to do. Finally, I laid down the law this weekend - no painting – no car on the campus. The paint job preparation miraculously speeded up, but not without the predictable rumblings and grumblings that I pretended not to hear. A few trips to Home Depot were made for different reasons, the key one being that Baku came back back with pure white paint instead of the eggshell white walls we have –this despite the paint chips I packed so well for him. He drove me crazy insisting that at the end of the day white is white. He had insisted on going alone as he is phobic about going shopping with me even to a hardware place. His phobia is well-justified due to the interminably long shopping trips, I took him as a child when he waited endlessly for me after I had bought him his token pair of jeans and then rewarded myself with what I thought were well deserved trips to the fitting room while the saleswoman humored him. Now wiser, he insists that we go in two separate cars for any shopping need. But I digress…

Indian Sons Don't Have a "Mouth"
Finally by the time we got the right paint – the tension was thick at home. Every question I asked was answered by an icy shrug and "I don't care". I don't know how other parents feel, but this canned response to any opinion request, just drives me up the wall much to my son's barely concealed glee. You see, I finally did go to the store with him where it was seemingly understaffed and busy as always. There Baku and I got into an argument because I took umbrage because he called me “annoying” in front of another customer who fled as fast as possible sensing the mother-son combat mode. Right there, I decided to give him a stern lecture emphasizing Indian cultural mores on parental respect about how respect must be given even if as he said, the parent was asking annoying and silly questions of a much harassed paint-mixer at the store while other customers were shuffling behind us impatiently. And this litany of Indian wisdom was given while the other customers continued to wait impatiently behind us-it probably gave them some humorous respite watching Baku, now act as the ideal long-suffering Indian son - finally! (He knows better than to argue with me when I am on a finger-wagging India March. Essentially his expression said "WHATEVER!!")

Is This a Gender or Mother-Son Issue?
At home, another argument ensued because of our different work-styles. I believe in getting the general idea and getting on with it–which does result in some mishaps but the job is eventually done whereas my son is methodical and diligently followed each and every instruction interspersed with breaks every few minutes to watch Wimbledon followed by yells of “sick” and "tight match" and similar cheering while I was standing there ready to burst a vessel. Finally we divvied up the work. Put in charge of priming the walls which would allow the "epic" match to be over, I went on a rampage touching up everything in sight while my son kept up with a running commentary and statements like, "Mom why are you doing such a ghetto job" and "You are dropping paint all over", "the texture is different" and "where is the tape to protect the edges" and on and on... I truly believe that I was the epitome of filial love as I continued ostensibly unruffled like a poker-faced saint in the face of such provocation...

The Crowning Moment...
The crowning moment came when I went to take a much deserved nap while Baku was painting (during commercial breaks only I suspect) while the Wimbledon match continued, when he called me from our home number on my cellphone. Since folks normally call me on our home number unless they have to really get a hold of me, I grabbed my cell only to hear a cheerful, “Yo mama – is there anything to eat in the house”. "Where are you?” I asked in my sleep-heavy voice. "I am downstairs watching Wimbledon- an epic game is going on – am checking the food situation.” Counting ten backwards in a dangerously steely tone, I sweetly told him to climb one flight of stairs to the kitchen to check for himself… My prince was calling me telephonically because as he explained to me patiently later, he doesn’t like to yell and this is logical means of communication. In retrospect, I think, he has a point but I obviously I didn't think so then.

Lesson Learned
Needless to say, only about half the bathroom and the touch up job in the house have been completed and we are currently not speaking to each other... Polo our sanguine basset is sniffing the paint stuff scattered around and is in seventh hound-heaven at the feast of amazing smells. I have learned once again that while ostensibly young adults, nineteen year olds are at the end of the day essentially half-child and half-men to whom the logic of touching up a perfectly fine home and causing all this work/stress is beyond their comprehension. My son truly believes that I need to get a life and not such bees in my bonnet. He is a great kid who takes care of other much-needed stuff for me, so going forward, I think the best money I am going to be spending is on a professional painter as reluctant sophomore college sons are just not “primed” for the job!!!

Blog Blog Blog Away, Merrily Down Life's Stream...

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After reading a friend’s blog for months and checking out others, I too have decided to jump into this fray… And here I am in my own "realm". Hey after all, I too want to add my two cents into this world of literary endeavor.… I have to say that this experience has been very entertaining and revealing on a number of levels. Before I proceed further, I think I should provide some basic idea about this blogging business for the uninitiated - I have learned there are many.

Blog 101
A blog, short form for web log, simply speaking,is a personal website which can be used for recording anything and by that I mean anything that holds the blogger’s fancy from memoirs, to political-bashing, to weight loss gripes down to obsessing about how many potato chips you ate in a moment of weakness, to serious discussions of social issues, to prolific writings about the first tooth of your angelic kid, to ugly online dating mishaps, to brave and feel-good yet not true feminist attempts by women of certain cultures, to serious scientific and literary pontifications and on and on and on… It is essentially an online communication tool.


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Reactions to my blog that I have created essentially as a forum to give an Indian female’s perspective on the Western culture while capturing the family memoirs have run the gamut of emotions among family and friends. Examples follow.

My Indian Image is Tarnished
After reading about my failed marriage a co-worker, an older Indian male came charging into my office clucking like an agitated hen and scolding me for telling the world that I was divorced. Huh! I remembered looking at this educated settled-forever-in-the-US -Indian-fellow-immigrant with a bemused expression which said Duh and so??? After more than two decades in US and ten of them as single parent, protecting my pristine image as a married Indian woman is the last item on my list of worries, but it further confirmed in my mind that independence of a single divorced woman was still a novel concept in traditional Indian culture and that I could never ever go back to that setup even if I had to spend a solitary life with an American basset…

We Are a Global Family
My family is, of course, thrilled and actually encourages me to continue writing for different reasons, the brothers because they feel that if I won’t write a book, this is a good start and the extended family because it lets them know what has been happening to me, their always out of the India-box and wild by their traditional standards cousin, in all the years they had lost contact with me. That this is a global age due to the astonishing strides in technology is evident from the fact that I have reconnected with relatives in New Zealand, Australia, Germany, different cities in India and all over the US, to name a few.

It is a Wild World Out there!
An older Indian female friend also single who has seen her younger counterparts go through much pain and effort to turn their lives around chided me for putting my pictures on the blog worried that some unsavory character on the prowl for a beautiful woman could cause havoc in my newly-built life. While totally relishing the “beautiful” bit, I reassured her that yours truly ain’t no Cleopatra so her fears were unfounded and that I was a big girl now… Very reluctantly she was reassured. I hope so.


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I am a "Celebrity"!
But the most refreshing reaction was from my friend’s mother in Bombay, India. My friend here in US had mentioned to her that I was busy nowadays with my latest passion –the blog. Aunty as we respectfully address older women in our culture, now always asks her daughter as to how the “celebrity” is doing. Apparently, blogging is the latest fad in India’s Bollywood where the stars are true celebrities and have started their own blogs for initiating dialogues on social issues as a precursor for their political ambitions, or building a fan base to ensure that their upcoming movie is a hit or as an avenue for self-promotion for upcoming starlets wanting to be noticed by moviemakers…

Traffic Congestion is Not an Issue Here
Now let us talk about interactions in the bloggers’ own universe. It is human nature to want an audience for one’s ideas and thoughts. After all isn’t that the reason, books and articles are published! So we bloggers also want traffic –yes that IS the term- visiting our blogs. This is where the human ingenuity comes into play in inventing gazillion ways to attract readers. I hate to admit it, not having the patience for these gimmicks, I shamelessly bullied my friends and family bringing up past favors and even made dire threats to "persuade" them to put something in the comments until they started running in the opposite direction. No kidding here. Thankfully for all concerned, including my son who started putting smart alecky comments to get his crazy mama off his back, I am over it now. I had no choice.

Games Bloggers Play
Interesting partnerships and even social clubs are formed between different bloggers through linking each other’s blogs along with leaving comments in strange and new blogs with your website embedded so that the readers are tempted to click on your URL and come visit. You load software on your blog to track the number of hits. Now let me tell you it is a real kick to see the number of hits increasing daily. It is all truly addictive. Some bloggers are even making money because if their websites are popular then businesses want to post their ads there. Blogger tips are shared daily in terms of not just increasing the traffic but keeping an audience captive. One tip is to post short articles even if they are just about brushing your teeth and such stuff as long as you have something new for your daily clientele. The other is to even put pictures of your household items -yes even pots and pans – anything to grab the attention of the wandering blog surfers. Blogging is indeed a big industry now. It has all become a science and has given me an idea for my next book which I plan to title, “ An Idiot's Guide to Blogging.”

As Gunther Said, "Death Be Not Proud!!"- Yet the Heart Still Hurts- In Memory...

Today is Kalyan's birthday - he would have been 48 so I want to honor his memory, by sharing a bit about him. Kalyan Bhandari (my maiden name) was the youngest of all my brothers, often considered the brightest of the brood, he was emotionally not ready to go yet... His passing on June 23 last year, has hit me especially hard since we grew up together while the older ones left to go out of state for schools and jobs. I was his older sister who protected and always looked out for him because there was always that vulnerability about him which lingered over the years. Oh yes we had our moments when we really fought, but there was always that special bond between us two siblings who could not be more different- but only on the surface...

He Truly Gave Me a Complex
Kalyan was not only brilliant but a beautiful human being both inside and out. Growing up as the youngest - he always gave me a complex because everyone cooed over his cute looks whereas I was clearly Plain Jane, but he hated it himself as he was a very shy and introspective individual. I recall a couple of incidents where he was mortified when an elderly neighbor would come and affectionately call him "Lovely" uncaring of the nearby neighborhood girls. Kalyan wasn't amused. One particular incident comes to mind. Being a very reclusive and shy child, Kalyan's second grade teacher insisted on recruiting him in a play of Indian Gods and Goddesses hoping it would help him overcome his reserve and it did. Mom and I went to the play - we could not believe that the teacher had managed to do the unthinkable - get Kalyan on stage in the public eye. Suddenly we saw this glorious creature attired royally in sari robes, with stage make-up topped by a tiara. Mother totally bedazzled asked in a perplexed tone as to why that pretty girl was wearing her sari. I looked again and saw that the "radiant" creature was my little brother resplendent as Lord Krishna. Mouth open, mom and I watched this metamorphical change in our young man as spouted pure sanskrit in his clear baby voice. Of course, he did not think it was funny that mom thought he was a cute girl!!!

He was everyone's darling whereas I was the rebel child

In His Youth with the Two Crazies
Kalyan, our cousin, Rita and I spent a lot of childhood time together. Kalyan and Rita almost the same age had a common passion for chess and it was quite a sight to see those two in their preteens, heads down absorbed in many an intense chess match. Growing up all three of us hung out a lot as Kalyan was the designated driver and the male chaperon to his two sisters (Rita was like a sister to him probably closer to him than I was) in many a social event.
Kalyan on extreme left with the clan.

In later life, Kalyan would always chuckle about one particular episode in our early college years that he considered hilarious. It is still vivid in the mind’s eye. Three of us and one of Kalyan’s friends went to the movies to see the “The Exorcist” which was causing as much sensation in New Delhi as in the US. We knew it was scary but we did not know how petrified our cousin would be. That famous scene where Linda Blair turns her head all way around was just too much for Rita and she demanded that we leave immediately. One of Kalyan’s college classmate’s who privately had a major crush on our very pretty cousin (remember Indian society was quite conservative and crushes were not announced openly) gallantly offered to escort Rita out of the theater. So here we are in a theatre where there is pin drop silence due to the suspense and tense atmosphere, when we hear a loud scream and a thud. Kalyan and I both jumped out of our seats as did many others in the vicinity. That was not Linda Blair’s scream, that was our cousin, who had fallen down because she missed her footing in the dark. Visualizing my normally very soft-spoken cousin, a princess no less - just deceptively mellow - sitting in a heap on the floor in the dark, had me giggling hysterically while folks gave us dirty looks. The Exorcist did not seem much of a horror flick at that moment. Kalyan, an extremely private person, absolutely the opposite in temperament to both of us, was mortified and swore never to take us two girls with him again, at least to the movies... Regarding his friend, I think he might have gotten over his crush very fast. Those were wonderful carefree days of our youth which somehow seem very painful to reminisce about now….


I remember the number of uncharacteristic "good mornings" I would receive from the precocious high school girls when he came to visit me when I was a high school teacher. Tall, handsome and fit, he resembled a young Bollywood actor.

He was the Family Prodigy
Kalyan was the family prodigy. He topped in the All India Higher Secondary examination (high school) standing first in the country and receiving a gold medal from India’s President. He was interviewed by the leading Indian newspapers and his pictures were flashed all over the country. Actually, my brother Ramesh who was completing his Ph.D at Carnegie-Mellon at that time, came to only learn about his success from the US version of India’s national daily, The Statesman.

Victim of Circumstance Beyond his Control
Kalyan was literally invited to join the historic St Stephen's college in Delhi, one of the top colleges in the country, admission into which is extremely restricted due to cut-throat competition to get in. At Stephen’s he again did very well graduating with a Bachelor’s in Economics Honors which he followed up with a degree in Chartered Accountancy. After working for a few years in Delhi, Kalyan wanted to experience the world and arrived with me in 87 to the US where he completed his MBA and MS in accounting and additional degrees in other areas. However due to circumstances beyond his control, he could never translate this academic brilliance into professional success. I will not go into the painful details other than to say, he returned to Delhi where he spent the rest of his life.
Kalyan and I at Baltimore Harbor a few months before Baku was born

Just a Great Guy!
Apart from his striking persona and intellect, he was a very affectionate and simple human being who enjoyed children. I recall when I took Baku to visit India as a child, Kalyan would take him to the local market and entertain him with the Indian version of Coke, Campa Cola and whatever toys or junk Baku wanted. All the nephews and nieces loved him. He was completely unmaterialistic and yearned for a normal life that was not to be. None of his dreams came true in this mortal life.

Family Bonds Strengthen
Hearing of his grave illness last year in April 2007, my older brother and I from the US and my other brother from New Zealand flew immediately to Delhi to take care of him. Those six weeks in India were a turning point in my life and have changed my perspective on many a level... Apart from being extremely painful, they have also been enriching as we siblings all bonded together to take care of one who was not able to do so himself. It bonded not only the immediate siblings but demonstrated to us the tremendous love some members of the extended family had for Kalyan as was evident from their generous help towards his medical expenses which at this point were out of control. It was truly heartwarming!


At home in Delhi -listening to his favorite music - hard rock!

His Legacy of Love, Fortitude and Intellect Lives on...
At this point, it is tough to come to terms with the fact that one individual who had already suffered so much could again be hit by a misfortune of this magnitude i.e acute myloid leukemia! He was extremely brave, never complained once about his tremendous discomfort and indefinable pain. His tremendous will to live- his fight against this terrible disease baffled the doctors. However, in the end-the dreaded disease took over. What hurts a lot is that this young man had so much promise, was the family's rising star and yet lost it all due to no fault of his own. He remained single, a quiet scholarly type who had actually just finished authoring a book on Indian economics and commerce at the time he was diagnosed with leukemia. My older brothers are going to try their best to get his manuscript published as Kalyan was in the process of working with one of the publishers in India.

We firmly believe that Kalyan is at peace now and with my mother who doted on him and struggled right till the end - her own death also from cancer- to look out for his needs. We will be working on creating a memorial fund in his name so that his goodness lives on through a trust that will be created for his assets. We want to ensure that his legacy of love and brilliance lives on...