A distant thought

We didn’t sit by the beach making plans for the future. We didn’t count the waves pledging our love at each crest and fall of the joyous waves. We didn’t find excuses to leave home on weekends and make up for the week’s separation. We didn’t spend nights on the phone talking dirty things that we would do one we would be together. Still we made it. Twenty five years through day and night. Our children grown above our ears ready to carve their names in the vast expanse of time. Our hair has greyed, skin folded with creases, we need glasses to admire each others smile. The strength in our limbs has weakened but the strength in my embrace is as strong as it was when I first held you on the night of our wedding day. You have the years hidden behind your eyes but you look as beautiful as you looked in all your bridal finery. Happy anniversary my love, I hope I can spend another twenty five beside you, loving you.

Agony of the leaves

Dried tea leaves placed in beautiful china, drenched by the slow yet intense heat of the stream of trickling water. They unfurl, and dance to emit vibrant colors to the tune of the droplets, letting the water to waltz with its flavor in perfect harmony. The music continues, till the tea leaves can move no more, devoid of its flavor to the last molecule. The rhythm of the boiling molecules fades, and the tea leaves settle down at the bottom of the beautiful china.
This is the story of every tea leaf. Like the wick of the candle that burns to bring light in darkness, the tea leaf knowing that it is going to wilt soon, dances brilliantly to add that tinge of flavor to every cup of tea.
There is poetry in its dance; there is romance in its unfurling. But in its agony lies a great taste that tantalizes the taste buds. A cup of tea – a ritual, a habit, a companion for gossip, a rejuvenator of thoughts, whatever you call it, you would not think of the agony of the leaves when you sip this amazing drink called tea.
It was not until recently that I started enjoying my cup of tea. I always thought I liked coffee better. But when the coffee at work made me feel sick, I switched to tea or tea bags. And mmmm.. I must say, I have started looking forward to that cup of tea. Today when I came back after making myself a cup of tea, I looked up the word ‘tea’ on Google. My favorite Wikipedia told me the history behind the drink that I was sipping and had started to enjoy. What caught my attention is the agony of the leaves.
It takes almost twelve years for this tiny leaf to grow and actually be ready to dance in somebody’s teapot. All for that one moment, the final waltz…
Tea is the most common drink in India, and each dialect has its own name – chaha (kannada), chaaya (Malayalam), chai (hindi), chaaya (telugu) and many more. And every time it’s made, every way its made, it tastes different, giving itself its unique identity. Like the variety of names for ‘chai’ the variety of sources is also huge and sometimes humorous. The “roadside tea” served at the stalls by the roads pour the tea from such a height and it falls perfectly in the narrow glass frothing up with bubbles from the milk. The “canister tea” served in tea stalls have it pre-made in a big canister with a tap. You do wonder if the canister has been washed, but nevertheless enjoy the tea. Then the “luxury tea” served in exquisite china that you may forget to enjoy the taste for the fear of breaking the cup. The “visiting tea” served when you visit someone’s place, so much so that the hosts think, that if they serve any less, then it would be an insult; And you the guest, wondering how you may politely ask to reduce the level of tea in the cup. “My-mothers-tea” that most people claim to be the best tea, in the world, even if it is just to make the mother happy. Then the “high tea” and “low tea” and somewhere in between, categories defined by the “high” “low” and somewhere in between people, incomprehensible to me. Oh and the “work tea” which you consume when you want to take a break from work, or to enjoy a chat with your friends at work, or to release pressure. This is self-made and you can make it, as you like it. “Rainy day tea” made and sipped piping hot on rainy days, relaxing on a chair, looking at the drops of rain playing music. And last, but not the least. “just-like-that tea” – there is no rhyme or reason, but you just have tea, because you have nothing else to do.
Tea, however it is made and however consumed will not fail to tantalize your taste buds, reminding you of the waltz that made the tea leaf alive. 

From Gandhi, with prayers…

If Gandhi were to be alive, maybe he would have addressed the nation this way. This is a pure work of fiction and is the author’s view of Gandhi and India.

My dear countrymen,

I traveled my country from North to South and East to West, from Kashmir to Kanyakumari and from Gujarat to Assam. For sure, I cannot walk the entire breadth and length of this country today, as most roads do not have a footpath. So a common man like me will have to encroach into the rupturing roads, with the blaze of horns screeching in my ears. I saw that the import licenses has helped my country boom and make it classy with BMWs, Mercedes and all the big names in the car industry. But the smoke the government buses produce blinds my eye and blocks my breathing. Can’t we have good air filters in all the government owned vehicles, my friends? Some roads were tarred, some mud roads, and yet other places, no roads at all. Is it so difficult to lay out tarred roads and help ease the commute of our dear countrymen? I see people throwing litter, spitting on the roads, and treating public way like trash bins. Would you do this at home, may I ask?

As I walked past Bombay, you call it Mumbai now, I saw some very tall buildings. A real tall one, someone showed me was Mukesh Ambanis house. I thought he must be having a big family. But no, there are only four people in his house. Wow! He must have a lot of money I thought. I walked some more and reached the shack centre or slums of Mumbai. And I wondered how much of a dent would it make in Mukesh Ambani’s purse, if he and the many others like him, build strong and lasting houses for these people. When he doesn’t do that then how can he claim his love for the country?

I was passing by a village when thirst beat the energy out of me. I stopped at a hut and asked for water. The lady handed me a glass of muddy water which she had drawn from a well located kilometers away from her house. It pained me deeply to see people, children, did not have access to clean drinking water, the most basic thing a country can provide to its people. Her children never went to school, and on the other hand my country boasts about IITs and IIMs. Basic education is the biggest gift we can give to our children, propagators of the current generation.

I picked up the newspaper and read about Anna Hazare fasting to end corruption. What has become of the people who have the authority to make India the best country in the world. People hungry for money, people hungry for power, ignoring the basic needs of the human population of the country. These people fail to realize that power is in the growth and well-being of the common man. Power is felt when you have provided drinking water, food, shelter, education and security to every citizen of India. That is the ultimate power. I see that the rich are becoming richer, the poor are becoming poorer. It is so difficult in this demanding environment for the poor man to rise up one level so that he can provide three square meals, education, shelter and safety to his family.

Sixty six years since the British left us, and hundreds of people had the power to do anything in this country, build it, govern it, and make it the best country in the world. We left behind a clean canvas to paint with vivid colors and make it bright and beautiful. But now, I see a torn canvas, bruised with rust at the edges, The shades are grey with intermittent peaks of brightness. India has grown, but in what directions? It is never too late to start a revolution. A silent promise that I will make this a better place. A silent oath to transform India from the grey shades to brightness.
With Prayers,
Gandhi.

The mind…

My blog tells me I last wrote something in December last year. Almost three months now. What have I been doing? Didn’t I have any thoughts about writing? I did, many thoughts crossed my mind. But all these thoughts came rushing in, when I had the least access to a pen or my alphabet keys. Can I rewind those thoughts? A person like me – No way!.. Yikes!
Now that I have some time to spare, free from the daily chores of life, here is something that I have been pondering on for a few days.
How do you understand yourself? This is the just the first question. Here come the rest.. How do you know who you really are… what you want out of life… what are your highs and lows… the list goes on…
There are some people who have this sixth sense power of deep diving into oneself and construct a perfect frame of the person they are. It works like a input-process-output diagram that we normally use in the project management world. Given a situation, they can precisely say how they will react, what the outcome will be. Such people usually have a strong mind.
Now the other category of people, who have no idea who they are, what they want, what they value… rather the ‘confused’ strata. They act on impulse and on the spur of the moment. They let people around them shape their everydays. No two actions may be alike. Today they may react in one way to a situation and tomorrow another. Fickle-minded is another apt word. They may have reasons for their actions, but acting on impulse may overshadow their honest intention.
The mind – the umbilical cord between the body and life. The central control tower, which directs every thought, action, word. A stable mind is the key to a good life. Strong for the former category of people and weakest for the latter. A ripple in the still waters of the mind causes emotions – all of them – the smile, the frown and everything in between, above and beyond.

Strings..

Moments of happiness, come by occasionally. The decide to drop in now and then. Just when you are engulfed in its cheer, some spark makes a quiet entry and turns everything upside down.

What do you do? Sulk and let the spark win over the good times, or after a tinge of sadness, brush aside the spark and catch on to the moment of happiness that decided to visit you?

Life is strange all the time. Just when you are getting happy, something strikes and leaves a vacuum giving you a mirage of hopeless despair. Like Life itself cannot go on. And my some wave of a magical wand, it bounces back and pushes you one step more, to follow its gait. The bouncing back is so sudden, that it does not give you any room to think. One just has to dance to the tune it plays.

Life, holds all the strings to Life. It knows when to pull the strings, when to let them loose. Life knows everything and I, a mere puppet dancing to its tunes, hoping to gain control of the reigns, so that I can pull the strings… Some distant day in the future, life will hand over the strings to me, for me to play the chords, for me to sway in its tune, for me to pull the strings, for me to let them loose.. someday..

Memoirs from my travel

Dec 17, 2010

I pick up my suitcase, this time a big one, and make a journey again. This time from the east coast of America to the west coast. From Indiana to Arizona. From home to home. I am travelling not on a vacation, but still on a vacation. Vacation from stress. But working remotely. I will have to support the testing effort that is going on in my project. But that is not a load, when compared to the 2 weeks of time off from daily stress. I don’t have to wake up at 7 am to get the kids ready. Don’t have to drop Nitin to school, needn’t worry about cleaning the house or the laundry. It’s a time to rethink, and reinvent the me, gradually getting lost in the daily chores of life.
I am boarding the US Airways flight 639 to Phoenix. My sons sitting beside me and mother behind me. My younger brat is flapping his hands, like a bird just as the airplane wheels away to take off to the skies. He thinks his flapping made the airplane fly. Such innocence! Where are all these people going? Everyone has a story, and there are so many stories to tell.
I open my book – Danielle Steel – Family Ties. It is after many months that a book has landed in my hands. 3 hrs 45 minutes of flying time and 220 pages read. I am impressed with myself.


Dec 20, 2010
The book is over, and now I am at a different destination. Tucson. 2 days with friends at Phoenix was good. Nitin had an awesome time with his friend Diya, he was seeing after 3 years.
Kids at his age adapt so easily to new environments. It is us adults who carry this fear of change. Why do we have to move from one place to the other like nomads. Just when you have made your friends, unpacked everything and start to form bonds, it is time to leave again in search of a new destination. Wish life was still at one place.

Dec 23, 2010
I am moving again tomorrow morning to Phoenix. Another move.  Back home at Carmel, it is snowing and snowing and snowing. My backyard must be full of snow, 3 inches maybe. The Christmas tree full of lights is twinkling. There are lights adorning the trees outside my house. It must be beautiful. Am I missing home? Yes and no. Maybe. The mind always runs behind things that are not at hand. Silly mind.
Well this Christmas, is to be spent at a friend’s place. All the gifts wrapped will be placed under the tree on the night of the 24th. Like how my son told me the other day ‘There is no Santa Amma’. I asked him, then who brings the presents, he pointed his little finger at me and said ‘you’. My 6 year old understands that. My Nitin, who I often feel thinks beyond his age at times; in understanding the circumstances.
Then there’s the little brat – his new dialogue ‘it’s just not my lucky day today’.
Once a year you should take a vacation with friends close to your heart, more on the fun side. The people in this world with whom I would take such a vacation would be my dear buddies, Chichu and Renju. The threesome, oh what fun! There is absolutely no moment to frown.
There is fun all around when there are minimum expectations from you and you don’t have to worry about pleasing everyone. Why can’t everyone just take life as simple as possible, instead of complicating it with emotions and feelings and heavy words? Just sway along with the wind. Life will take its course. When there are expectations that you should behave in a certain way, and then you bring in tweaks to the ‘you’. When you bring in the tweaks, ‘you’ is in imbalance. When ‘you’ is in imbalance, the mind wavers. Then one has no idea what one is thinking or doing. If I get a magic wand and am granted three wishes, one of them would be to take away expectations one has from others around.


May the balance be with you. 🙂