Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Signing off 2014

I wanted to put down a few thoughts before the end of the year and I'm glad I got a chance to do just that. At the eleventh hour, I have managed to snatch some time and write. The month has been a roller coaster with some great experiences and some not so much. Much like the line थोड़े ग़म हैं थोड़ी खुशियाँ.... from the song ये जीवन है ..... I love how soft Kishore's voice sounds in that song.

Taking stock of the year that's drawing to a close, I realized that I did manage to find time to get a few things on my resolutions list addressed.

I read a few classics books, and really enjoyed doing so. I loved the language used in these books and visiting life in another state, country, or culture makes this journey such an enjoyable one.

I watched most of the classics of the celebrated filmmaker Satyajit Ray. I'm so glad I did and with time in hand to savor each one I watched. Introspection after such movies is inevitable and I ended up doing just that. They add such an unique dimension in the kaleidoscope called life.

Some latent hobbies got a chance to peep out for a bit too, whether it was jewelry making, gardening or arts and crafts.

Music, which is a staple in my life, had a good year too. I got to explore a whole new realm of music. Bengali music is as rich as it's cultural heritage. I have only just begun my journey but am proud to say that I have found it to be very rewarding.
Classical music, as always, has given me much joy. To be in a trance listening to some amazing renditions is always a pleasure.

On to the new year... 

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Awakening

Why is it so easy to laugh at someone, over something that the person has no control over? Even when the world is trying to teach acceptance and understanding, there are scores of people who find humor in another person's incapacity at a certain skill set. I am unable to fathom the thought process behind such an action.

Recently, at a gathering of friends, one very well educated lady thought she was relating a funny incident about her daughter, who apparently had spent a good deal of time working with a group of young adults with special needs... bless her heart! One young man from that group proposed to her one day, and she told her mother about it, probably just relating what had happened during the day. I know the girl, she is a very sensitive and caring young woman. The mother chose to turn the incident into a joke loudly proclaiming that her daughter's hand was sought for by a 'mentally retarded person'. This statement was followed by a hearty laugh. I was in the room and so were a lot of other friends who were extremely uncomfortable at this tactless attempt at humor. That's when she suddenly realized and looked at me directly and apologized at least thrice for the faux pas. I was in shock that I actually witnessed such an incident, and tried to stay as stoic as possible. I had seen a couple of faces that had initially found it funny but realized the political incorrectness of it all. It was not a moment that will turn into pleasant memory in future.

A friend once shared an article he wrote for a news magazine. He had narrated an incident in a subway, where young adults finally made a girl in their group sit in a chair reserved for disabled people. All the while, they poked fun at their girl friend and insinuated that she was disabled. They continued to pile their briefcases and bags on the poor girls lap for safe keeping because she had a seat and they were still standing. My friend standing nearby was stepping out at the next station. He made it a point to tell the group that ridiculing the disabled under the garb of humor was not alright!

I wonder when people will stop finding amusement in putting other people down. There is enough hilarity in everyday life without having to resort to awkward humor of this kind. Will people awaken to that!

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Nonpareil

Earlier in the year, I decided to catch up on some classic films made by master film maker Satyajit Ray. The resolve continues. It is wise to give some space between his movies so they sink in and you get time to think about them.

As more and more of the world seems to get materialistic, easily swayed by the flashy, glitzy urban lifestyle, watching these movies takes you to a ground level that is as earthy and real as it can get. It is life from a different viewpoint in every film. An eternal search for something elusive stays on with you long after the movie credits roll up. The sad truth is that years after the movies were made, the situation hasn't changed much for so many people. Yet there is hope.

I recently watched Teen Kanya, an anthology film, based on three stories by Rabindranath Tagore. It is the first part that I wish to talk about today. Postmaster, an approximately 45 minute film, set in a rural setting, is a moving story of a young orphan Ratan who forms a tender bond with the new postmaster. He is a city bred young man who uses his spare time to teach Ratan who cleans and cooks for him, to read and write. He also encourages her to sing and reads her poetry that leads her to love him like a brother. She cares for him when he falls sick but in the end, which you can watch here, things end abruptly. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vtm__gZqbnY

How Ray managed to get such a young girl to emote like she has in the film is beyond me. His fine touch as he shows her emotions is unparalleled. Nothing over the top, yet the look in her eyes, lonely tears shed by the water well while doing her chores, and the few things she says in the film stay with you long enough to make you feel restless. I felt hopelessly inadequate for a long time after watching the film.

The mind tries to find refuge somewhere, and in this case, it helped me connect two seemingly unrelated truths. The first is that there are so many such Ratans that need a family. The second - there are young souls with hearts of gold who are stepping up.

A friend had once shared something about his sister. Apparently, she always wanted to adopt a child. She kept her word. She got married and after having a child of their own, the young couple adopted a baby girl. They did their bit. It was so heartening to listen to that story.  I stumbled upon a picture of mom with the kids and it was wonderful to see the little girl so secure, so comfortable.

The mind sought peace by connecting two dots, very different yet related in a cosmic sort of way for me.

Friday, October 10, 2014

The story of a bookmark

While I was in grade school, my family decided to visit my uncle and aunt at Bangalore during mid term break. We had a great vacation, and then came the time to visit Cauvery Emporium, one of the highlights of my mom's itinerary. She had her list of things she wanted to buy, and I was looking forward to simply admiring all the stuff they had at their store on M.G. Road.  When my aunt said she planned on buying  me a gift, I was really excited. She chose this leather bookmark with an inverse chevron end finished with a silvery gold Nataraj embossed on one side and rawhide on the back. I will  be lying if I say I was not disappointed when she settled on her choice. I had been keen on the more useless things that would look pretty for a while but would soon be forgotten. However, I soon realized that gifts do not get any more personal than this. I wrote my name on the back and started using it right away. It would sit on my desk when I was done reading a book until a new one came along. I soon began to develop a bond with it.

We went through a whole lot of books together, through school and college, through my stint as a research fellow, and after I got married. Reading took a back seat when a demanding baby came into my life, but the bookmark remained my friend.

When we decided to move countries, all of my house needed to be packed into four suitcases. I figured the tiny bookmark would easily slip in my handbag and go wherever I went and so it ended up joining a whole lot of tiny things that fell in the same category. How much one accumulates that falls in one special category or the other!

So the little leather strip traveled across oceans and landed here in my home. We went through a myriad of emotions together, books that were dramatic, some that were sad, others that made me laugh, and some that stayed with me long after the last page was turned.

I used to take this little page marker for granted until one day I got an email from the library that the book I had asked for was ready to be picked up. I got the book home and opened the desk drawer as usual to get the bookmark out and start reading. It wasn't there! I looked again, and then rummaged through the entire drawer, but no! It wasn't there! Breathe, I told myself, it's probably on the desk. I looked all over, high and low, to no avail. It had simply disappeared. Two days later, I pulled out another bookmark that had been lying around for years  and decided to start the book. I remember it was Khaled Hosseini's And The Mountains Echoed. Every time I picked up the book, the new bookmark looked up at me and I would feel something amiss. I finished the book, didn't like it as much as his earlier ones and returned it to the library. I also decided to ask the librarian if they had found any bookmark that fit my description. I was a little hesitant as I asked thinking what person in the right mind would return a book with a bookmark in it. Turned out there are plenty who do just that! The helpful gentleman at the library went inside and came out with a handful of leather bookmarks and asked me to check if mine was one of them. It wasn't! He said he would still keep an eye out for it and wished me luck.

I came back home, trying to think what I had done with my book prior to the last one. That's when I had the aha! moment. My brain suddenly threw out a little detail at me which I had completely forgotten. I had been at work when I had finished the book, and I had carefully taken out the bookmark,  and put it in the bag I take to work. On the way back home, I had dropped the book back at the library. I ran to the cabinet and opened the bag. There it was, lying at the bottom of the files, wondering what took me so long to get to it!

Things are fine again in the reading world! 
        

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Warming trends

The weather has finally warmed up and jackets have been put away. Spring brings a new fervor in life. I love trying my hand at creating something new that I hadn't done before. This time it was my favorite paisley pattern that took shape using previously collected pistachio shells.


Spring also sends me into the garden equipped with a lot of enthusiasm. This year, I stumbled upon Calla Lily bulbs that I decided to try planting. Keeping my fingers crossed, I tended to them hoping to get a few good blooms. They did not disappoint. I have six planters that are blooming with the exotic lilies this spring.



As the trees got their foliage back, and it was lush green everywhere, birds began to appear. I've been fascinated by my avian friends for quite a few years and have tried to capture them using whatever camera I have had at my disposal. As better cameras flooded the market, it is getting easier for everyone to try their hand at bird photography. This isn't necessarily birding. Birding requires a lot more than just a good camera and luck at capturing a good picture. The time spent in observing these industrious creatures is the most rewarding. Unfortunately, I am not able to devote as much to this hobby as I would like to. However, the next few posts are going to include some pictures I've taken that are my favorites.
Here is one of an American Robin that I noticed in my yard for the first time.


More birds and other stories coming up next. Until then..... adios!

Monday, March 17, 2014

Early memories of music

Living in a sparsely populated, really quiet town far away from immediate family meant that every vacation and short holiday was spent in Mumbai initially, and Pune later, visiting family. My maternal uncle- Mama was old enough to be my grandfather, and just like his father, had very strong leanings towards music. My mother's family was into music in a big way. They read a lot. Discussions about music, art, literature, history and spirituality were always on the forefront.
This was in stark contrast to my father's family who read all the time, anything they could find, and then had heated exchanges over world politics, history, current affairs and industry. No music there at all! No films and theater either. They came from a very affluent family who thought music was to be listened to in the background and nothing more. Impeccable tastes were developed because they always bought the best, but they didn't believe it was important enough to talk about, and nobody could really sing.

So my earliest memories of lullabies, apart from my mother singing them, are of those sung by Mama. After dinner, as he had done with all his nieces and nephews, who were a lot older than I was, he would carry me around the huge balcony of the bungalow at Walkeshwar, in the Raj Bhavan compounds, with the cool sea breeze blowing, and sing what I thought at the time were lullabies. I think this was his way of unwinding after a long day at the hospital/office. He was at first the Dean of Grant Medical College and then the Director of Medical Health services for the state of Maharashtra. The reason for writing that is to convey what his profession was, he was a doctor- the best I have ever known.
I remember falling asleep to 'Don Ghadicha Daav, Yaala Jeevan Aise Naav' (Life is nothing but a two minute game). What a beautiful song that is! However, I never really thought about it's meaning at the time. I was at an age where I could be carried around, so I guess I'm forgiven. When I would hum it later, it was always the way Mama sang it, in his exquisite, unblemished style. I had no idea the song was from the film Ramshastri, and two very young children have sung the original. Much later, when television arrived in homes, I got to see the songs and to my surprise, this one was sung in a simple but melodious way. How he embellished it! A little taan here, a little harkat there, never the same every day. Many years later, when I was talking to his grandson, and mentioned the song, we realized we were both in the long chain of children in the family who had been blessed with sleeping to that 'lullaby'!
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Later, our routine visits during vacations would pass reading books and playing in the garden. My grandfather once decided he would teach us some classical music. He taught my sister a small composition in Raag Bhoop and I got to learn 'Ha Takmak Paahi Surya Rajanimukh'. I found the first line funny but loved learning to sing the song. Back at school, my sister decided to sing her new song at a music competition and bagged the first prize for her class. I decided I would not follow suit and be laughed at by my friends for the word Takmak, because no one understood the language and I did not want to be embarrassed. It just goes to show how foolish one is and sometimes priorities are so wrong at that age. I insisted I wanted to learn a new song, not knowing I was sidetracking a beautiful Yaman Kalyan from Sangeet Manapamaan, written by K.P. Khadilkar, composed by Govindrao Tembe and sung by Bal Gandharva. My mother finally relented and taught me 'Tejonidhi Loh Gol', which I was happy about because I knew it from the vinyl record of Katyar Kaljat Ghusli we used to play often. I was about 9-10 years old then. That juvenile rendition got me a prize, so the episode ended well. However, till date, I feel bad for not learning more from my grandfather, who passed away the next year at the age of 87. That is one regret I will always have, I wish I could undo that time, spend a little less time in the garden and more by his side, picking up some valuable lessons in music.
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There was no formal music teacher in the town we lived so my mother did her best to teach us little nuances. She would often site examples of well written songs, emphasizing on lines that were important, and on little harkats the singer would decorate the song with. My informal education continued. My father who I thought was next to none other than God himself,  saw the whole exercise as futile would often tease my mother about poetry, especially ghazals- men first put their women in burqas, then either rejoice and write poetry when they see her fingernail or toe, or write sad poetry when they don't see her at all. I found that argument very valid and decided it was useless to try and understand that kind of poetry. Discussing films and music was also considered a waste of time. Listen to all the music you want on the side, was what I took away from the situation. I loved doing that, all kinds of music. In fact my father bought very good music from all over the world for us to appreciate.
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At this point now, when I see people earnestly discussing music, I enjoy listening to them, reading the articles they write and taking away something from it. However, I have realized that I am better at appreciating music rather than discussing it.

Friday, February 21, 2014

Visting and revisiting some old and new classic movies

Winter this year had a lot of muscle and it was best to not show your strength against it. As a result, I had a some time that had to be spent indoors. Catching up with friends is always great, but this time it led me to something I don't do very often. Watching movies. A few movies were recommended and finding so many of them online was a bonus.

I got started with a Bengali movie released last year called Shunyo Awnko. Some music from this film was shared with me and I was curious to see how it was filmed. Konkona Sen Sharma starring in it was a plus, so I ended up watching the film which is based on environmental issues (the Orissa mining of Bauxite being the central theme). It was an interesting film and it gave me confidence that I'm not completely lost without subtitles, though sometimes it can get really tough.

I had watched a couple of Rituparno Ghosh's films in the past and decided to start with them. Unishe April and Dosar were the two I watched one after the other and loved them. The director handles complex human emotions so delicately and with a lot of compassion and understanding. It was great to be able to watch movies that made sense and were based on a good storyline. Watching a string of mediocre mainstream cinema lately was making me lose interest in movie watching altogether.

Somewhere along the way I decided to intersperse watching new cinema with ones that inspired these new filmmakers. Who better than Satyajit Ray to turn to when you speak of classics that inspired people the world over? I started with Charulata. This was a film I had watched as a child and remember some interesting conversations. I was too young to understand the intricacies of the film back then. I was not sure why the lady cries when her brother-in-law leaves and I remember saying something like- 'that is not her husband, why is she crying?' Oh for that naivety again!

My mother of course turned it into a teaching moment and explained to us that having a hobby always helps and the lady would've fared better if she had cared to develop one. She was bored in her own home which was not how it should be. Instead of always fighting me over sending you out to play, you should read or create something instead, she advised. Then she and my aunt discussed the movie after we left to reflect over our newly found pearls of wisdom.

The next in line was Mahanagar. A truly well made film so ahead of it's time. The characters come to life as we see the protagonist develop from a shy housewife to someone who stands up for her beliefs. All the intricacies in human relationships are beautifully portrayed. As I began to get hooked to the world of Ray's cinema, I found myself thinking about the people I had just watched. What a complex array of characters already and I have just begun!

More about his films in another post later. Do share your thoughts in comments.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Help!

Lately I have read a lot of books by authors of Indian origin. The books are often set against a typical Indian backdrop and have numerous references to life in the sub continent.

A few years ago, Arvind Adiga's White Tiger was the book that actually set off my journey with this genre. It is a tale about a chauffeur who makes it big in the city with a little help from unexpected sources. I will not divulge any more here because I will be accused of adding spoilers. However, I will go ahead to say that the book had a great account of life in an East Indian state that I was never familiar with and it made very interesting reading. One of the details that stayed with me for a long time was the description of lives of chauffeurs in big cities like Patna or New Delhi. Their daily routine is not just driving around their employers to and from places, it also involves keeping the cars clean and care of pets. The cars are washed everyday and the accessories cleaned. An interesting accessory that I would've never thought of and described in the book is a spittoon. People from that part of the country eat Paan, which is tobacco rolled into a Betel leaf with other spices and hence there is a need to constantly spit out the juice at regular intervals. The spittoon is cleaned out and polished everyday before setting out for the day. This little detail really got to me. I was not only disgusted that the poor chauffeur had to clean the receptacle out but was expected to polish it everyday, only to be spitted into again. How spoiled can one get?

I remember visiting a friend in my own sleepy coastal state of Goa. She had promised a typical Goan fish curry and rice lunch for me and my son. We loved the food, it brought back many fond memories. The fried fish she served as a side had lots of bones and my son needed help with removing them. She asked her maid to bring me a plate to throw away the bones even when I insisted I would pile them in a corner in my plate. Now that a small plate was brought for the purpose, I placed it in between my plate and that of my son, so we would share it to throw away our fish bones. She saw that said- "that's his fish bone plate, you'll get another one. Get her another one", she instructed her maid. Then she turned back to me and said, "we have the luxury of maids who do the washing here, we don't have to skimp on using utensils like you do in the US." That was so unnecessary!

I was saddened to see that my once dear friend had joined the ranks of the elite, never mind if she was making another person work needlessly and using up resources too. I admit I miss the everyday help of maids here in this country, but if I had them, I wonder if I will ever get them to do things for me that I can do for myself, or are just plain avoidable.






Friday, January 24, 2014

Cold snap in January

We had a colder than normal December, but January seemed to be doing okay. Until suddenly they started talking about wintery precipitation. If it is snow, people are excited, but ice and sleet- nah! We didn't sign up for that when we chose to stay this far south.

Schools close as soon they know about ice on roads. They don't want to send out buses into every street in such weather. Offices sent out emails asking employees to report after 10 am or noon. I got to sleep in and that was a very welcome fallout from the situation.


This is what I saw this morning. There was ice wherever rain fell last night. The streets were dangerous as a result. Friends commented how horrendous driving was especially on overpasses. However, when I see what my friends go through up in the north, this seems so minimal.
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My animal friends in the yard haven't been very happy. There isn't much to eat, the worms are all buried too deep or dead, and little else comes by. I like to put fruits outside from time to time. Two days ago, I put out two apples and an orange. The apples disappeared almost instantly, the orange was around for a day. Yesterday before it began to rain, I saw this squirrel sitting in the tree with the orange. It was a perfect camouflage, except for the bright orange spot! I took one picture from inside, through the glass-


S/he didn't know s/he was being watched at the time. Then I opened the door just enough to stick my arm with the camera outside, but that was enough to make her/him hide behind the branch.


After nibbling on the orange for a while, s/he climbed down, dug a hole in the ground and buried the orange. Probably saved it for a rainy day.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Some DIY

Almost every January, we have an understanding amongst us friends. One of us hosts the annual event, a potluck dinner for our families, and the specialty for the evening is that we dress up in our traditional festive best and bring along a token gift for all the friends present. So each of us brings something for all the others. What it is, is not important, we try to keep it small, something everyone will like and use. A traditional sesame seed and molasses sweet is also always exchanged during this wonderful gathering, where food is wonderful and so is the company.


This year, as I was walking though stores looking for ideas on what to get for the others, I stumbled upon mason jars and it was my eureka moment! Why, I could make something for all the gals! A sugar scrub is what I settled on. The thought was exciting. I got the jars, searched for recipes and settled on the Vanilla Lavender Brown Sugar Scrub. With all the necessary ingredients in my basket, I got home to get started.

I checked out the internet for packaging tips, and an overwhelming number of them flooded the senses. After some thought, I decided to design and print my own labels. The jars were ready with the labels glued on after a day of planning and designing.


Then came the actual hands-on apothecary, something I don't suppose I'll do very often. Or maybe I will! Measuring and mixing the essential oils and fragrances with sugar, some stirring, and it was all set to go into the jars.

This was a fun experience. It is always exciting to try out something new.







Thursday, January 16, 2014

All in a day's work


This week started off very dramatically for a local school that my son attends. I was out running errands and grocery shopping and I got a call. I was asked to pick up my son from school. Their class was moved to the school next door because of a lockdown at their high school. He was supposed to buy lunch that day and since they were at a different campus, buying lunch would've be a problem and it was best that parents got their children and took them home. This is a special needs class so it was a prudent thing to do. The rest of the high school were evacuated into the football field at the back of the school where they were all having a field day trying to figure out what was going on.

What actually was going on is any school official's nightmare. They got a tip that there was a gun in a students backpack. They had to follow protocol and inform authorities and what ensued was a lot of drama in this small but otherwise quiet community. News helicopters hovering over your child's school for the wrong reasons is not a pretty sight. I got calls from several friends and family asking me what was going on. It was even on CNN. It was a tense time for all those involved. By the end of the day, they had the whole thing sorted out with one young man, a student of the school in custody. It will be a while before people know why he chose to come to school with a gun in the backpack or perhaps never. Things settled down and school resumed the next day to the normal bell schedule.

Today, regular emails that the school sends out to parents informing them of routine matters included this line-

Friday, January 17, is a normal dress code day. Despite rumors to the contrary, it is NOT a pajama day. Students arriving in pajamas will be dress coded.

I was so amused, Two days after dealing with such a stressful situation, they had to send out a notice so trivial. All in a day's work I guess!


Sunday, January 12, 2014

People watching

Waiting at the airport for someone to arrive can be quite entertaining, you get to see so many kinds of people. When we got there yesterday, the place looked daunting, like a zoo, what with two extra flights arriving at the same time with two others already on schedule. We saw planeloads of people  walking out into the lounge and a lot of them had someone in the crowd waiting for them. If it wasn't a friend or family member, it was a chauffeur holding up a placard with their name on it.

When I go to receive someone, I am sort of forced to people watch. There isn't much else to do. Folks waiting show a plethora of moods while they anticipate meeting their friends or family as they walk out through those automatic doors. Eyes scanning faces every time the doors open. It is fun to match expressions on faces that light up in the waiting crowd, with that of those walking out.  Is either party equally thrilled to see each other? As trolleys roll out, I check out their emotions- beaming, excited folk, their long, tiring journey behind them, waiting to explore, or tired, jet lagged people simply waiting to get home and put their feet up. Then there is  the business traveler who is eager to get to the hotel to catch up on sleep before getting down to business the next morning. 

Most people never travel light on these international flights, whether it is aging parents walking out with airline provided assistance, or spouses getting back home after a vacation, sometimes with 2 or more kids in tow, visiting family members, or whole families getting home- they all arrive with truckloads of baggage. I know how that goes, I've been one of those people who fill up their suitcases upto the last permissible kilo. Adjusting stuff around in the bags would be one exciting exercise. Of course, that was when my mom was still around. I haven't visited after she passed away.

Interesting encounters between people is the whole reason behind people watching and I wasn't disappointed yesterday. A young family was waiting for someone. Well dressed, well groomed, with one 4-5 year old and a younger one in a stroller. The husband kept checking something on his phone the entire time. The lady guest they were waiting for walked out the door, and towards them. The guy was still on his phone as he followed his wife to greet the visitor. The wife (in green) and the visitor (in black) were smiling, all the time sizing each other up, what they were wearing, and all that. As they neared each other, the host lady in green pushed the stroller ahead, forcing the guest to focus on the child, giving her a chance to size up her visitor some more. Then they finally hugged as the hostess in green muttered- I love your necklace. It was all so dramatic, almost fake- the emotions, the smiles, the hugs. The husband finally looked up from his phone and muttered a hello. Then before the guest could open her mouth, the lady in green suggested they walk out to the car and talk later.
That was a very smart thing to do, unlike a bunch of young guys, three of them, who arrived to work here I suppose, and were received by a couple of their friends. They decided to stand right there and chat like they were home already. They were clearly in the way and weary people had to push their baggage around them to get to the long line near the elevators. The young bunch finally decided to leave only after about thirty minutes of catching up! It finally dawned on them that though the plane had landed at the final destination, the actual place they needed to be at was their home, and not the lounge!
Then there was this senior lady in a very modest getup. She waited patiently, seated on the chairs with her husband. Suddenly, she let out a gleeful whoop. She almost danced to the wheelchair that was being led out by an airline attendant. The lady in the wheelchair was brimming with equal enthusiasm. They hugged and cried at the same time. Maybe they were sisters, or who knows what the relation was. It was very heartfelt.

International arrivals can be dicey because processing times vary. It sometimes takes forever for the person you are scanning the door for finally emerges out of there. It took a good seventy five minutes yesterday. There was certainly no dearth of entertainment at the airport though, there never is.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Surprise on a vacation


Surprise last minute additions to travel plans can sometimes turn out to be so delightful. Last year, while on a wonderfully relaxing vacation to British Columbia, we disembarked from an impressive ferry ride that landed us in Victoria. Deciding to grab a quick bite before heading off to the Butchart Gardens, we stopped at a popular fast food place. While in conversation there with other patrons, a local gentleman shared details of a spot that sounded interesting. A lighthouse at the end of a pier/breakwater- a portrayal enough to get us to drive to Ogden Point, Victoria. I have always been fascinated by lighthouses and sailboats and decided to check this one out. As we walked to the lighthouse, a little kiosk greeted us with several displays on marine life found in the area. There was a lot of activity on the breakwater, some divers were preparing to dive, a remotely operated vehicle/camera was being lowered in the water by some students, while others observed creatures pulled out temporarily from their habitat by divers. In the water, jellyfish were abundant and they glided along in what looked like a lot of a debris. I was disappointed that the place was not well maintained. However, in just a little bit, it dawned on me that it was not trash, they were huge beds of Kelp. The dying fronds looked like trash from a distance. Little fish were feeding on detritus and suddenly, I was going back in time! 20 plus years ago! This was exactly what I had perused scores of times as I surveyed literature for my research. It all came back, our field trips to the mangroves and to Dona Paula, collecting samples, keeping things ready in the lab- the pine pollen, the autoclave, the tea strainer, the bleach, the little grinder and the tiny petridishes, most of all Raghu's patented running seawater chamber for identifying the thraustochytrids under the microscope- that was such a fascinating thing to observe (and no, I didn't forget the rabbits and the ELISA)! My mind was also flooded by a myriad of memories about the people, who in their own little ways taught life's lessons, each adding some zing with their unique personalities. Our lab help's trait of forgetting to label flasks carrying water with various salinities as he autoclaved them in multiples, forcing us to do it all over again, a senior lady's exclusive method of weighing fish on the new digital scale, people coming in early to 'book' 2 hour slots on the computer or the UV chamber. It felt like it was just yesterday. As I looked down into the water here at Ogden Point, I wondered which thraustochytrids I would find in these waters, and what kind of strides the field I had left all those years ago had made. I hadn't kept up with it. My mentors, Chandralata Raghukumar and Sheshagiri Raghukumar, both renowned scientists, taught me to pursue a subject with passion. Thank you! Their dedication to their work was/is nonpareil.

My personal post doctoral research began 15 years ago on a topic diametrically opposite to the one I had worked on. Understanding Autism- an absolutely unrelated but completely engaging field! As I accidentally stumbled into a world similar to the one I had left behind many years ago, a quick recap of how life had shaped up flashed before my eyes, with an important lesson that I learned along the way- life isn't about the destination, it's about the journey! Here are some pictures of the 'marine' aspect of it.





Monday, January 6, 2014

Inspirations

The crispness of the new year is still around, people still talking about resolutions and plans they have made for the year. It's interesting to read about them and take perspective of your own. Winter is slamming down hard and bitter and with one bonus mild day we got today, I decided to make the most of it. Leaves litter the backyard and the next two days are all set to tie or break records with the coldest temperatures recorded. I brought my sensitive plants inside, and hope some in the ground will survive the cold onslaught.

I have a member of my family who is really enterprising and a constant source of inspiration. She is always finding new things to do and follows her heart diligently until she achieves what she sets out to do. She has taken on a challenge that reminded me of the movie Julie & Julia that I watched a few years ago. She has tackled several challenges in the past and I admire her zest as she takes on new ventures. She lived in very arid Tucson, Arizona for a good amount of time. When they bought their first house there, she decided to take a break from work to be with her little girl until she was ready to go to school. Sitting at home for five years with a baby, after having worked for several years is not something that daunted this young lady! She took on the garden, a barren area with rocks all over. Single handed, she moved them all, irrigated the area, divided it into two. She planned a lawn to the left and an English garden on the right, with a birdbath in the center of the garden. She worked so hard to achieve it, she ended up with a tennis elbow and a backyard people would envy. The satisfaction that project gave her was immense though, to see what she had so meticulously planned and executed, the lavender blooming in through spring and summer, the other local varieties following suit. All over her house even today, you get to see numerous projects that have some interesting story behind them.

Several other friends also have some very thought provoking aspirations for the coming year. I will simply make silent resolutions, and hopefully, by the end of the year, have something to show to myself.

It is a time to get inspired, and apply some elbow grease!

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Making a difference

The first of January is a day when you usually end up sleeping in late, blaming it on a late night celebrating the new year. Then you decide to take stock of the situation and make decisions about whether you want spend another day lazing around, or get down to business in tackling the never ending list of things-to-do. I decided to put away the Christmas tree, and the holiday decorations to give a crisp new look to my immediate surroundings.

The year ended with a visit to San Antonio to visit my cousin who just moved into his first home. We heard that they had a new addition to the family, a 4-5 year old dog, a Lab. The dog was so friendly, and clearly very fond of the family that adopted him. He was keen on pleasing us as well, who were only visiting. I was wondering about how my cousin managed to get an older dog, and then I heard the story. The dog was apparently found by a neighbor in the other house my cousin was renting, a week before they closed and moved into their new home. The neighbor had three pets already and was not interested in another one. He did take the dog to the vet to check if there was any way of locating the current owner. There was nothing on the dog that helped. He then told my cousin that with so many puppies were waiting to be adopted, this almost 5 year old dog would likely be put down.

That was when I realized that my cousin was indeed a man who cared, he may be a tough guy with a six pack, driving a truck and motorbike, but inside, it was the heart that ruled. He asked the neighbor to hold the dog for a week, and then took him in when they were done with the move. His wife is a wonderful woman who supported the decision. That dog is now a part of that family and is loved, cared for and protected.

One decision and the conviction to stick to it can make a difference, and I was so proud of this young couple who did it. It reminded me of a similar situation many years ago.

We were a young couple then. A new family moved in next door and they had this big cat, black and white and very friendly. Their daughter actually loved the cat and fed it and took it in in spite of the others. One morning, the cat was crying loudly asking for them to open the door for her. They wouldn't. When I asked them, the girl said that cat was pregnant and was about to deliver and was looking for a place in the house. There was no way the adults were going to let her do that. So she had no choice but to turn a deaf ear.

When we were married, my new husband had said he would have nothing to do with animals in the house, so I was torn about what to do. Having grown up with cats and dogs in the house, it was difficult for me to just watch. My knight in shining armor came through though! He asked me if we had a box and some soft cloth. I got it at once, and then he opened the door and let the cat in. The poor animal was so tired by then, she readily walked in. A few hours later, we had 3 lovely kittens (well, they weren't so lovely then, but they turned out to be the most adorable kittens in a couple of weeks). They were adopted as soon as they were ready, but we got to enjoy them for a couple of months before they took off for their new homes.

The family next door went about as if nothing was amiss, and soon they moved again. The cat followed the girl to the new house and so ended our pet keeping phase.