Tuesday, January 10, 2012

FROM THE WELCOMING ARMS OF BORDHOMAN

'Bordhoman', a district in West Bengal, India, famous for paddy and potatoes is my new home. This is where my Husband hails from and so after our Wedding, I visited the Ancestral home of my In-Laws over a weekend. This District is punctuated by tiny villages or more appropriately called 'Gram'. As we drove, I could see lush green fields on either side of the narrow roads for miles and miles. My Father-in-Law was pointing out the crops, paddy, mustard, potatoes that were cultivated in those fields. Surprisingly, I never saw potato plants before :). Dense Forests that covered hundreds of acres and spread across states provided shade and respite from the hot mid day heat. As I looked ahead, the road was covered with paddy grains and the car was about to drive over them. That is when I almost screamed, 'Stop'!

Funnily enough, the villagers wanted the vehicles to drive over the grains. It is just a easy and no-expensive means of separating the grains (I am not sure what the process is actually called). On the road-side there were heaps of potatoes lying and wasting. Fun Fact: Potato cultivation is expensive in comparison to most of the other crops. This year, the farmers who cultivate potatoes did not make much money out of it. These thoughts about the Indian rural life were disturbing. A Country where Agriculture is the major occupation, the farmers are and have been suffering, sometimes it is the nature but most of the times it is the Bureaucracy or the System or the Illiteracy!

Depressing facts aside, I remember drawing countless scenic pictures of villages as a child and writing about them and so visiting a Gram and living there was like a leaf straight out of a story book. It is surprising how I lived in India for 27 years and never saw a Gram before. Mud houses, temples, ponds in the backyard, children on bicycles, mud stoves that use coal for fuel! I felt connected to my Motherland, connected to the Nature, Connected to my roots. It was an exhilarating feeling and I loved every minute of it. Yes, there were mosquitoes but there were nets too, and there were caring women who wanted to make my stay as comfortable as possible. It is surprising how welcoming people can be of a perfect stranger. Within minutes, I felt at home and felt wanted.

There was a lady who cooked for the household. Her name was Bani Mashi. I stood by her as she made tea for everyone and asked her name followed by where she lived and who else was in her family. She smiled and I smiled in return. My tea was a little extra sweet. I think she liked me! In Hindu custom, when a woman is married, she leaves behind her life and dons the name and customs of her Husband. So, with my Marriage, I became a Brahmin. This did not make much of a difference to me till I visited my Father-in-Law's Ancestral home in 'Gonpur'. They have a Durga Temple in their front yard!!! That is not it. I took part in a ritual right in the inner quarters of the Temple. That sure was a bummer! It was beautiful and serene. I loved being there and enjoyed the fact that I was by no means uncomfortable. These people were my own and they loved me like their own. It was a proud moment!

This visit to the Basics, made me realize something important, that in Life what matters is the people you meet, the friends you make and retain, the family you had by birth and the family you adopt in this journey of life. Everything else is ephemeral, just an adornment to make life comfortable. Definitely important but not everything. The open heart with which everyone accepted me was remarkable. I realized I was nervous for no reason. These were some of the most interesting and sweetest people I met. What a trip!

Signing off
Deb

Wednesday, November 02, 2011

A hot cup of Coffee


7pm in the empty school corridors, I dump my bags and walk to my favorite corner in Rotman, The Second Cup. I order my coffee and stand to the side letting the next customer to order. Well, this guy asks me, ‘Caffeine craving at this hour? Got work to finish is it?”
I say, “Well no! Just casual coffee break”
He mulls it over then asks me, “But it’s late! Will it not keep you up?”
I smile and say, “No. Coffee never bothers me”
He picks his coffee and says, “Wow! I think I am yet to reach that state” and leaves.

I get my coffee and grabbing a couch I mull the conversation over. I realized that I never ‘reached that state’ actually. Ever since I remember, coffee really never bothered me. I mean, I can have a whole cup of coffee and sleep in a while like a baby.

I have always been a coffee lover but if you ask me which beans are good or which coffee is best where? I will probably just star gaze or something in reply. Truly speaking, I always enjoyed the conversation and ambience that accompanies a cup of coffee more than the coffee itself.

I still remember those days back in Undergrad, when Mom used to get me a hot cup of coffee and I used to take a break from my books and sit with her for the next 30 minutes chatting about nothing important. I probably had my best discussions with Mom in those stolen minutes. I also remember those lonely days in Chennai, when I used to come back from work at 4am regularly getting to see my roommates just once a week on Sundays. We always started the day with a hot cup of coffee and pending week long gossip.

Coffee reminds me of rainy days in Mumbai when I was tired of living alone and used to hate unlocking the door to a dark and empty house. I still thank God that I had friends who love coffee conversations as much as me and were always ready for a cup. I remember locking back the door almost immediately and heading to the closest Barista and spend the next 3-4 hours with mugs and mugs of coffee and tons of laughter.

I loved London City for the open café houses splattered around. I found a good one on the banks of Thames with outdoor heaters. I spent innumerable hours sitting there sipping at this hot wonderful beverage and observing people around me many of whom were new to the city and many who were natives equally in awe of the great river and the beautiful city.

I think about my family in San Francisco. Every time I visit them, I am in for a jet lag. Obviously I am up at 6am biding my time until I can no more. I then wad through the halls and end up in the kitchen with the newspaper waiting for someone to wake up. Only my uncle did! We then make ourselves black coffee and sit at the table and discuss the past, present and future of our family over the rich aroma of coffee refreshing every sleepy nerve in our body. It is just blissful!

I am guilty of over hearing conversations around me, some loving words, some funny jokes, some business deals and some serious talk. Personally too, I always revealed my inner most thoughts and feelings better over a cup of coffee than a peg of scotch unlike most.

I have friends who say, “What’s so good about Starbucks? I have had better coffee!” I agree. Starbucks to me is adorable more for its ambience than its coffee. Starbucks like me believes in presenting the right ambience for good conversations and peaceful time. I cannot ignore the fact that Starbucks is artistic, very! And extremely classy! And so I am drawn to it, like a magnet! The green lady makes me smile in my worst moods.

All I want to say is that Coffee makes me nostalgic. Nostalgic about all the good times I spent with the people I love and I relive them every day smiling and relaxing over a hot cup of coffee! Spend some time exploring your thoughts and memories. Believe me, it’s worth every penny!

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Aaj Bhi..

Aaj bhi khwaab unke aate hain, toh aankh bhar aati hain

Woh pal, woh ehsaas dil ke itne kareeb hain

Hosh mein hum unhe yaad karne se katraate hain

Par behoshi mein gehri har ek jazbaat khilke nazar aati hain

Un khayaalon pe mera bas nahi chalta

Dil ke kisi ek kone mein dabi woh ehsaas khud ko jataake

Bas saanson mein unki haseen khushboo chhod gum ho jaati hain…

Sunday, October 16, 2011

I wish...

I wish...

Sometimes in my solitude I see your face floating
in and out of my thoughts like a flash
I reach out to touch you and feel with my fingers
the warmth of your memories one more time

You smile your crooked smile and fade away
an ephemeral shadow just stays behind
My fingers just grasps an empty space
a void left by your mocking smile

I dream of a thousand words I wanna say to you
many a times I respond to your voice
and then the smile on my lips goes back to what it was
when I realize the voice I hear is just my own

I think of a time by the beach with the vast ocean ahead
My head on your shoulders and my hand in yours
The silence of the minutes fading into hours
and yet it felt like we shared a lifetime together

Your words your smile your touch I miss
I miss the couch we watched happy endings together in
The sound of your voice calling my name
I wish I could feel them all again... once... just one more time

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

LOVE, HUGS & MORE.....

Sometimes all we want is a loving word and a hug in spite of how unreasonably we behave. I swear I am not PMSing! I am just depressed with life right now coz nothing, I repeat nothing at all is going right. All day long, when I see my friends post about how they have no work to do or how boring it is at work, I wish I had something to post on similar lines. Every moment of every effing long day I wonder what I am doing wrong. Is it my fault then that I am in such an ugly mood? Is it too much to ask from people close to me to bear with me? I can understand and I can be reasonable but seriously, I don’t want to. Not right now! It just adds to the pain that I cannot talk to anyone because everyone is busy, either in their own lives or in their work. I call Mom to talk about something happy that will cheer me up but like everyone else, she has her own share of problems to talk about. I did not even manage to tell her that I miss her. Dad is angry with me because I acted all grown up and told him that he is being unreasonable. Well, I thought I was grown up and could talk to him on behalf of Mom. But I gather that for him I am still his little girl and I’m not welcome to advise him. So great! Everyone is angry with me. I have been sulking since last night. The one person I thought would be patient with me goes, “Look! Give me a call when you are out of this mood of yours. I don’t know why you are behaving this way.” I don’t know what else can be added to this bloody mood of mine. You must be thinking that these are such inconsequential stuff. I agree! Petty issues! But for me these are big right now. These are clouding my thought process. I just need a hug and my girl friends L

Monday, July 25, 2011

THE RAMBLINGS OF A SOUL ON A SUMMER AFTERNOON

It is again one of those days, when I laze around doing nothing soaking up the heat of the afternoon sun. Memories from past keep flooding back to my mind and my eyes get moist. I miss my school days when by this time i.e., 5 PM, I would run back home to savor the mouth-watering delicacies Mom made for us, Dada and me. He would already be at the table when I reached enjoying the treat and smirk at me because he cycled his way back and never give me a ride. He always was a pompous teenager and would never let me play with him or his friends. Anyways, that was not what I was thinking about. My mind just finds seven different routes to wander about at any given moment. I used to neatly pile my bag in a corner and walk to the table and take my seat. Mom would pat my head and hand me my treat which always managed to vanquish the turmoil of the past hours that I spent day dreaming. I miss Mom’s pat on my head now. I don’t remember most of the incidents from my childhood. For that matter I don’t remember much from 5 years back. The memories are hazy and blotchy like they are not mine, but snippets of someone else’s life. My room-mate manages to land into a rambling about incidents from her childhood days anytime anyone asks her to. It scares me! I sometime wonder if I have dementia! My brother remembers too. Every little thing he did or said in his life and he is four years elder to me! I don’t! Worse, I don’t remember the names of the professors who taught me 3 months back. Well, unless they did something that would never let me forget them. But 3 months is still a short time period to forget. Isn’t it? There is an exception though! I remember clearly all the unpleasant memories of my life. I was discussing this with one of my friends a few days back as we walked back home from class and he said, “It is ‘coz you do not talk about it enough. The more you think about your past and talk about it, the clearer it is. You are so silent all the time. No wonder you cannot remember much.” That set me thinking again. I remember days when Mom used to tell her friends that I am very talkative and gregarious, that I make friends easily and open up to perfect strangers very quickly. Well! That seems to have changed now. Like I said, this was not what I was thinking but my mind has its own mind! There was this time when I was travelling with my Mom and Dada to Kolkatta to spend my summer Holidays with my cousins. We boarded the second class compartment of the Coromandal express from Chennai. It was an extremely hot day and we carried with us a thermocol ice case filled with soft drink cans, about 25 cans. I remember quarrelling with Dada all the way to Kolkatta for my share. I wonder what I would be ready to give away now to live that journey one more time! I want my childhood days back when I was a carefree child whose only worries were her rival in class beating her to the First rank or how to explain to Mom the tongue reddened by licking at a lollipop or why there are Ink spots on the shirt sleeves? I want my childhood days when I refused to sit unless Baba offered me his lap. I would then climb into his lamp and fit my small, thin body comfortably onto his right thigh and right arm and rest there till I slept. I never slept better! I remember Dad coming home after a game of tennis on my 13th birthday and find me sleeping silently. He was surprised ‘coz usually I create a ruckus on my birthdays. He touched my forehead and found it burning hot. He picked me up and took me to a doctor immediately. I had the symptoms of Malaria. On my way back a giant black scorpion crossed our path. I was scared but Baba said that it won’t harm. Just at that moment, it started to move towards my feet. I was frozen with fear. Baba killed it with a big stone then and bent and gave me a bear hug. I realized that he would have let it go had I not been there. I miss my Baba’s bear hug.

Hmmm! I do remember a little!! There! my room-mate is back already and I am still rambling. I think I bored enough and I should get going now…

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Himmat Karne waalon ki haar nahi hoti...

I watched a beautiful hindi movie today titled, "Maine Gandhi Ko Nahi Maara.." with the lead roles played by Anupam Kher and Urmila Matondkar. It was a beautiful story depicting a Family's, especially a daughter's struggle with their old father suffering from pseudo dementia/dementia/alzheimer's. Here is a poem recited all through the movie written by hindi poet - Sri SuryaKant Tripati Nirala. Sri Harivansh Rai Bachchan was mentioned as the poet in some places.



lehron se dar kar nauka paar nahi hoti

himmat karne walon ki haar nahi hoti....


nanhi chinti jab dana lekar chalti hai

chadti deewaron par sau baar fisalti hai

mann ka vishwas ragon mein sahas banta hai

chad kar girna, gir kar chadna na akharta hai

akhir uski mehnat bekar nahi hoti

koshish karne waalon ki haar nahi hoti....


dubkiyan sindu mein gota khor lagata hai

ja ja kar khali haath laut aata hai

milte na sehej hi moti pani mein

behta duna utsah issi heiraani mein

mutthi uski khali har baar nahi hoti

himmat karne walon ki haar nahi hoti....


asaflta ek chunati hai sweekar karo

kya kami reh gayi dekho aur sudhaar karo

jab tak na safal ho neend chain ki tyago tum

sangharshon ka maidaan chhod mat bhago tum

kuch kiye bina hi jai jai kaar nahi hoti

himmat karne walon ki haar nahi hoti....