Blogging

I had no idea about blogging, before a friend introduced me to this virtual world. This is my journey of blogging. I was excited that there is a place on the internet, for the stuff I write. As days passed by, I would write about trivial incidents, some good thoughts, some travelogues. There was even a time where I would write some mundane things too. Later, I began to be discreet about some feelings.

Initially I sent the link to a few friends and I would insist G, that he read my blog and give his opinion. He was the biggest critic. It was always about grammar and spellings. It was never about my ideas or my opinions. Once I used a friend's name, and I got a big lecture, as to how I am not supposed to reveal anything on the internet. After this, I stopped insisting that he read my blogs, as I never got any word of encouragement from him.

G loves my writing, but on the internet, he was not very comfortable about it. We even had a few tiffs about this, but I was persistent and dint give up blogging. Somehow, even though we have our opinions on each other’s doings, we still don’t give up some things, just because we love each other. If, at that time I had given up blogging, I am sure nothing path breaking was missed, but I would have lost my space and that’s something which I am proud of. I am no big writer. I might just have a couple of readers, but the best part here is, I don’t write for anybody else. I am the person who is most eager to see a new post coming up on my blog.

Coming back to G. As I mentioned earlier, I stopped irritating G to read my blogs. One fine day, I told him some incident and he said, I read that in your blog. I was surprised and happy (thought I was calm outside). My mind was celebrating inside and outside I was this calm and satisfied person. But, he still did not like that I was on the internet. So, I decided never to ask him if he ever reads or not.

Last year, a few friends of his, said they read my blog. I was happy to know that. In a way I felt sad that, other than my husband, everybody else who reads my blog is appreciative of it in one way or other. I still did not ask for his opinion. Now, he reads it every now and then. Infact, when I wanted to change the look of the blog, he even offered to help me. Sometimes to irritate me, he opens the blog in front of me and starts reading it aloud. Even today all he does is point out grammatical and spelling mistakes. I have come to terms with this. Bottom line is he reads it and I am happy about it. I hope someday you actually tell me what you think about my blog.

So G, all I want to say is I Love You and thank you for being such a loving husband. This just goes to prove that, whether you are poles apart in your thinking or you are on the same page, love just makes life beautiful.

Home Alone

Alisha, smart and brave kid, just moved to Bangalore with her parents and kid brother. She was pretty good in her studies. Since they had just moved to Bangalore, they were staying in a rented outhouse. It was a single bedroom house, but they could easily manage. There was a very big park in front of the house and Alisha went there daily to play with her friends. There was a old man in the park, none of them liked him. He was a little weird, but Alisha and her friends always ignored him.

One evening, her kid brother fell ill and was to be taken to a doctor. Her mom and dad wanted Alisha to accompany them. But she had to prove to them that she was a big kid now and that she could stay alone for a couple of hours. So her parents, left her in the house, ofcourse they told the owner who stayed right in front of the house.

Half an hour and Alisha sincerely was doing her homework. She heard the sound of their gate. She wondered that it was too early for her parents to come back from the doctor. She waited for some time. She heard weird sound, she could see from the translucent window. She saw a white shirt. She remembered her dad wearing a grey one when he left. Also, there was no knock on the door, so, it couldn’t be her parents. Now the height where she saw the shirt resembled the old man’s height. She couldn’t imagine why the old man was here. What the hell was he doing at the window? She dint know if she could muster the courage to open the window and peep outside. But she was getting terrified from what she saw outside. Slowly she moved to the kitchen, and after some time began crying. She couldn’t understand why the old man was following her, she never even gave him a disgusting look at the park, unlike her friends.

Lucky for her, the landlady happened to hear her crying and came to the kitchen window. Alisha was so relieved to see a familiar face, she told the owner lady, that somebody was at the door. Finally, when she came there, all she found was a white shirt hanging on the clothes line. Alisha couldn’t believe that inspite of being a brave girl, she was fooled by this. Within half an hour, her parents came back.

Everybody had a good laugh at this. But for Alisha, it was a life changing experience. After this, she was never scared of living alone in the house.

Hindustan

I was excited to go back home after an year. The flight to Frankfurt was packed. I was just getting comfortable in my seat, a man in my adjacent seat, smiled. I returned the smile. We started talking and then he just popped this question. I don’t remember what the conversation was about, but this question has just made a place in my heart. The man was originally from Karachi, Pakistan, who was settled in US. He spoke pretty good Hindi. Infact, until he told me, I assumed he was from Northern part of India.

The question he asked me was – “Aap Hindustan se hain?”

I was shocked at this question. I have been asked several times if I was from India, but never been asked if I was from Hindustan. I don’t know why, but this question just added to my excitement.

Its been more than 2 years since this incident happened. But this part of our conversation has been etched in my mind.

Happy Diwali 2009

Deepavali or Diwali, is the festival of lights. It’s a time to wish our loved ones and ones around us for prosperity. Its time to clean up the house and mind to throw away all the dirt. Its time to burst the crackers and celebrate. Well, this time we dint get to burst any crackers, but we did manage to do the rest of it.



This was our first Diwali together. Last year, we were in different places, so this one was really special for us.

Saturday morning, started with a small Pooja, and an early brunch. Initially, we thought of going for a movie, we took a small nap instead. Evening was supposed to be a visit to the temple for a view of fireworks and then a potluck dinner at a friend’s place. We had decided on taking bisibele bhat for the dinner, so after our tea, G started on that. Around 8.30 we started for fireworks in the SwamiNarayan Temple. Well, by the time we reached near the temple, the fireworks were nearly over. So we headed back, so that we could have dinner. Since it was a potluck, we had lots of stuff to eat. There were so many sweets, rotis, dum aaloo, mix veg, gajar halwa, bisibelebhat. We were back home by 12.30 AM.



Sunday wasn’t a busy day, we just went for a movie and then dinner, with friends.
Monday, we had invited friends over for dinner. Its always a nice feeling to have people over for dinner. Also, decorating the house on these special occassions has always been my passion. Earlier, mom and I, would get new floating candles, new sheets for the diwan, new cusion covers for the sofa. It would just give a fresh look to the house. Well, I plan to do a lot of these things, but for this time, I got a lot of candles and flowers and tried to decorate a little bit.



The dinner was good too. Although this time I made limited quantity, as everytime I would have lot of food left over. But I must say, I was satisfied with the taste and so was G, I think our friends were too. I made vegetable cutlets, poori, mutter paneer, vegetable rice. G made awesome fruitsalad custard. Since it was a weekday, we had to wrap up the get together pretty early.



I must say I will cherish our first Diwali forever.

Sambar, Rice, and Spoon

Cookery shows have been my favorite since I was in school. Although at those times I used to tell my mom to make all those dishes. Recently, I have made some stuff, following these shows. It's kind of fun. Once in a while, I even see those clips, where I already know how to make the dish. I do this, just so that, I can see some difference and try it out.

So, I was watching this sambar recipe. Well, incidently, I know to make sambar, with the powder (which mom/M-I-L make) or ones where we grind the powder. Now, anytime anybody asks me, how do you make sambar? there is no single recipe. Every house, mind you, not every community or every caste, but every house has its own taste of sambar. The sambar powder mom makes is different from what my M-I-L makes, and who knows, someday, I might have my own recipe(thats in the far future). So, I just tell them the basic recipe if they already have a powder.

Now coming back to the show, the chef prepared the sambar, and for the taste, he mixed it with rice and started eating it. He was eating with spoon. As he ate 2-3 spoons, he kept on thinking what was missing, and then he realized, it was the spoon.
He makes this statement " Sambar, Rice, and Spoon, never go together". I was laughing out loud when I heard this. I have heard this a lot of times since my childhood "Who eats Sambar Rice with spoon?? " and sometimes its totally true. Atleast at home, most of us grew up eating our food using our hands without spoons. Exam times, study times were different when we would have the liberty to use spoons, but otherwise it was always hands.

Infact, until I had a lot of north Indian friends, I dint even seem to notice. Well I have seen them using spoon for a dosa. I have never understood that part. My roommate was one such girl. She used to make the dosa piece into a cone and put in sambar using a spoon and then eat. I would lose interest in eating dosa in such a way. Some of us even tried to tell her, how we eat it, but i guess she never left her comfort zone.

Well, all you people who feel eating rice and sambar using your hands is weird, let me tell you its not. Infact, using the spoon for this very reason is injustice to rice and sambar :)
Well, on a different note, when I go to Indian restaurants in US, and I happen to eat sambar rice I use the spoon, only because, I am lazy to go and wash my hands in restroom and they dont give a finger bowl here. But at home, it's always my god-made spoon :)

A place of worship or discrimination

You go in with faith and you see discrimination. How would you feel?

Temples are one of those special places, which give a boost to the level of faith in God. This is one place, where people find peace of mind (I somehow dont, but some people I know believe in this).
How does it feel when in such places you see discrimination? We have seen that in so many temples.

Lets take the temples near our homes in India. The purohits give special preference to people who are regulars at the temple. Why?

A few temples, you dont get the theerta (holy water), unless you give the purohits dakshine (offerings)(mentioned about this here). Why corruption in temples?

Then comes Sabarimalai which is the abode of Lord Ayyappa. Girls/Ladies of age group 12-50 arent allowed here. The are so many stories and theories to this. But the same God can be worshipped by all ladies elsewhere. It's only in this place they arent allowed. Why would god discriminate? If he did, wouldn't this rule apply in all the temples?

I wonder if there is a Godess temple, where men aren't allowed!

Well, the reason this post has found a way in my blog is because of a temple I visited a few months back, and came back home angry. Yes, you read it right, ANGRY.

Now, this is the Swami Narayan Temple. It's got beautiful architecture. The moment you enter the temple, you actually dont look for the god, but the architecture. This is the same one as the Akshardham Temple in Delhi. I havent seen this one yet, but have been to 3 of them in US. One in Chicago, other in Atlanta and another in Houston. Below are the pictures of the Houston Swami Narayan Temple.











Beautiful!!! Isn't it?

Well, we were waiting for sometime, so that it would open up for Darshan. As we were waiting, saw a board which meant, Men will stand in front and Women will stand at the back during Arathi. We were a little confused as to why we would have to stand seperately. Seriously, it was not because we are husband-wife, its not even that we had to stand seperately. But why, guys in the front and ladies at the back.

I am not being a feminist here, even if it was the other way around, I would have asked this same question. Why, in the name of Godm are you doing this discrimination? Its nothing to do with equality or anything else. It's plain faith. A friend of ours was sitting in the front, and she was asked to vacate that place, as the guys were to stand there. What kind of rule is this?

We scream our hearts out in the name of racial discrimination, we shout so much for equality. But, when people do such things in the name of God, we just sit, and watch. I, felt ashamed that day, as i was silent and didn't question anybody. I wouldn't blame the men for this. Women have accepted this, and thats why its continued. We keep quiet, just coz its in a temple. And since, we are taught from childhood, we shouldn't question certain things related to god, we don't question such discrimination.

Aren't we all hypocrytes? We preach, everybody is equal in God's eyes. And then we do something shameful as this. Are we not responsible for such deeds???

Disclaimer : I have no idea why its done like this. If anybody believes that its right and have good reasons for it... Good for you. I still dont think its the right thing to do.

Routines or Memories

We stayed in Mysore for a few months after our wedding... These months were when we were always together except office, and there were times when I used to steal my moments from our time.
I always used to wake up G by 6, asking him to unlock the gates. He would get so furious, and most of the times I would end up doing it at 6.30, then getting the milk and paper from the door. I was always the first one to read the newspaper. It was fun. I used to read the sections which interested me and watch the milk from boiling over simultaneously. Later when G started to read the paper and our conversation would go like this.

Me(giving the cup of coffee to him): Oh! did u see this happened???
G : I just opened the paper
Me : Oh ok...
G (reading silently and sipping his coffee)
Me : What do you want for breakfast
G : Anything will do
Me: What do I pack for lunch
G: Whatever is convinient to you
Me: You never help me decide all this... Now, are you done with reading, go take bath. blah......blah....blah.....
G: I am still reading
Me ( banging whatever is in my hand) : Fine, I'll go, you watch while the maid is cleaning... (murmuring some other stuff). Fill water in thr filter, clean your cup
G: Hmm...

Me(coming out of bath): You are still drinking coffee and reading paper, you dint fill water, u dint do this.. you dint do that.. I have to do everything here. I am not going to fill water in the filter, thats your part.
G: I know baby... I'll do it.. Relax...

In the evening, once home, we would decide what we want to see on TV. We had the Dish network... yeah yeah... dish Karo Wish Karo... Yeah right!!! You wish#$@

G: Do you want to see Star Movies
Me : Naah!! I want to see the dance show
G: Thats boring, lets watch the Bruce Lee
Me: Noooooooooooooooo
G: Come on its fun
Me: Dance show...
G: I cant watch a dance show
Me: I cant stand Bruce Lee
G: Ok.. let me take out the set of DVDs
Me: No English movie (come on they were all action movies... bruce lee kinds)
G: Well no hindi movie either (as if he had any)
Me: Ok lets watch animation.

And so we did, after much discussions we used to watch movies which both of us could manage to watch.

Later G would do his part of the chores. I would think I am just wasting my energy reminding him. But then, if any of this dint happen on any day, I would feel something missing. I dont if G ever felt like it. But I am sure he loves those days too.

I loved the way, we had started to build our sweet little world. It surely wasnt perfect. But I loved it. It was ours, just ours.

Things have changed now, we have understood each other better. We yell a lot less at each other, so many times things get done without saying much to each other. I think this is just another phase of life, where we just grow together. We even sit and watch programmes together, I still dont like the bruce lee movies. I just go, do the kitchen chores or read a book or just lie down on his lap when he his watching this. As per my programmes, I make sure I am done with them before he comes home.

But I just miss those wonderful times we had in our home. I know they are only memories now. We will never get back those days back, but, I surely hope, we will build a lot of new memories which we will cherish all our life.