HP7: Until next time

Disclaimer - Homelandia is a 7-part series of posts sharing my experiences from my recent trip to India. All the posts are based on true events exaggerated with a bit of masala (spice) in a truly Indian fashion. This is my last post in the Homelandia series. Click here to read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 and Part 6 of the series.

As I pack my bags yet again, I reminisce to the day my trip started. 
Day 0:
RJ(my 'for better or for worse' half) and I have just reached India. 
2:00 am: We are driving home from the airport. I amuse myself by watching RJ's wide-eyed looks of awe. He is visiting India after a gap of 5 years and everything seems so new to him. But it did not take long for him to feel familiar again. 

6:00 am: We are resting after a quick catch-up with family. As my tired eyes try to catch some shut-eye, a sense of strange familiarity overcomes me. I feel the pangs of homeliness as we quietly listen to the familiar sounds of city waking up. I hear horns, autorickshaws, two-wheelers, the train and barking dogs.

8:00 am: We wake up to the aroma of filter coffee. I wistfully open my eyes. My head is soaring with emotions and I can feel the tug at my heartstrings as I take in a deep breath of the fresh morning air filled with the beautiful smell of camphor and incense.

9:00 am: We gobble down quite a few hot dosas with chutney and spice powder. As I sip at my coffee, I look around at the people surrounding me and my heart is filled with joy to be home again, to have the opportunity to meet the people I love and spend time with them. 

PS: In tamil we do not say goodbye because goodbye does not say anything about meeting again.
Instead we say "Poyittu varren" (I'll be back).

"Poyittu varren amma" (I'll be back mom).

Watch this space for my new series titled "Love and other disasters in Venice" chronicling my adventures in Italy this past summer. Until then.... Hit like if you enjoyed reading Homelandia and feel free to leave a comment below or on facebook :)

HP6: Old Habits die hard

Disclaimer - Homelandia is a series of posts sharing my experiences from my recent trip to India. All the posts are based on true events exaggerated with a bit of masala (spice) in a truly Indian fashion. Click here to read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 and Part 7 of the series.

I am very tempted to ride a bike in India and somehow convince my sister to let me use her bike. She needs to do some quick grocery shopping. So we set off on the bike. My sister is riding pillion and once on the road, I feel strangely at ease in the driver's seat.  

After a few turns, I am feeling more confident and quite used to driving on the wrong(for me) side of the road. A little ahead we turn left into an alley just wide enough for my bike. Just as I figure out how to fit the bike in this narrow lane, I see a car heading towards me in full speed blasting the horn, I instinctively move to the edge barely missing the gutter in the side. All of this feels natural and strangely enough I am not intimidated. I continue on, zig-zagging to avoid pedestrians and honking at a few walking in the middle of the road. As I continue, honking becomes second nature just like it used to be.

We take a right ahead. I don't know how it is possible to have a narrower lane but here it is. A little ahead I see someone hurling water on the road and I time myself perfectly to avoid being drenched. Just as I smile smugly with satisfaction, I see two stray street dogs snarling at me. I snarl back and we have a quick "yours vs mine"(the road i.e) stare and I quickly win by blasting my horn twice and they grudgingly move aside. Had I been on foot, I might have not seen the same outcome and might have even lost a foot in the process.

We turn left and enter the main road. I am maneuvering in and out of traffic and going with the flow. I feel like a pro. We stop at a signal. It is a long one. I see a few street vendors selling smartphone holders. I start thinking how the nation has progressed. Not long ago they used to sell wipes for car windows. "Beep Beep Beep Beep" The signal is still red but vehicles have started moving. I am jolted back to reality with a few horns and a motorcycle narrowly overtakes me with impatience.

We are done with our shopping and we are heading back in a different route. This road is not so narrow but every few inches there is a speed breaker. I don't mind speed breakers but have a real problem with back breakers which is what they feel like. 

We turn right and I see no road. Just some hills and valleys in dirt. My sister nudges me to keep going. As I navigate the bike through the bumpy dirt road and we bounce in our seats, I tell my sis, this is not that bad.. My sis replies "It just gets better with time"(meaning you get used to it). 

We take a left ahead and I enter the parking lot beaming with joy knowing that I can still survive Indian roads on a bike and thank my saint of a sister for entrusting me with her bike after almost 10 years. 


PS: Feel free to comment below or on facebook. Tomorrow will be my last Homelandia post. I hope you enjoyed the series and thanks for riding along(pun intended). 

HP5: Outsmarted by my smartphone

Homelandia Part 5

Disclaimer - Homelandia is a series of posts sharing my experiences from my recent trip to India. All the posts are based on true events exaggerated with a bit of masala (spice) in a truly Indian fashion. This includes some immature and naive opinions voiced by yours truly. No offense intended. None taken. Click here to read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6 and Part 7 of the series.

My smartphone is making me dumber. I use very little of my brainpower and rely more on the processing power of my Apple A7 processor. I rely on Google to answer the silliest questions, use calculator app to calculate tips, blindly follow google maps for directions, depend on Facebook to remember birthdays. On top of all these things, recent incidents described below made me realize that I have been outsmarted by my smartphone.

New Year's day

12:00 AM: RJ(my 'for better of for worse' half), his mom and myself are hugging and wishing each other.

12:05 AM: All three of us are buried in our smartphones and our phones are beeping non-stop. 

12:10 AM: As I recycle another new year message to yet another whatsapp group I think to myself: Within 10 minutes of our new year, all three of us have chosen to be present online rather than being present mentally with each other. So have all our friends considering the number of whatsapp messages received between the three of us. Raise your hand if you reached for your phone within 5 mins this new years.

On meeting my friend Y after a decade.
Me: Wow! It doesn't really feel like its been 10 years since we last met.
Y: Yeah! Do you know what our mutual friend D is up to?
Me: Yeah, She is living in California now and she had a baby boy last year.
Y: Good that you are in touch with her.
Me: (little embarrassed) Actually I haven't spoken, emailed or chatted with her in a decade. We are just Facebook friends. This same conversation proceeded for another 4 of our mutual friends. This incident got me thinking. I am duped into thinking that I am in touch with my friends. Just because I get their updates with the convenience of a few clicks doesn't mean that I really know what's going on with them or that we are still really friends. 

PS: Do you feel outwitted by your smartphone? Feel free to share your stories in comments below or on facebook using your smartphone :).

HP4: Am I smarter than a 5th grader?

Homelandia Part 4

Disclaimer - Homelandia is a series of posts sharing my experiences from my recent trip to India. All the posts are based on true events exaggerated with a bit of masala (spice) in a truly Indian fashion. This includes some immature and naive opinions voiced by yours truly. No offense intended. None taken. Click here to read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6 and Part 7 of the series.

So Am I really smarter than a 5th grader?

Apparently My mom does not think so. During my recent visit to India I was coddled and cajoled so much that I honestly started believing I am 10 again. The following two incidents will demonstrate what I mean

Incident 1:

5:00 pm: I state that I wish to go sketching in Pune university. This is followed by numerous protests from mom. Apparently 3 years ago some one was killed there. Mom insists on accompanying me. I do not want her to come and get bored for 2 hours while I am sketching

7:00 pm: we are still arguing about whether she should go with me. We keep repeating the same arguments like a broken record. She also adds a few emotional blackmailing elements stating that instead of spending time with her, I want to go out alone. 

8:00 pm:I finally convince her to let me go by myself. The plan is to call her if it is very lonely out there and she will come in a rickshaw to rescue me.

9:00 am next morning - my mom feeds me, wraps me in her shawl, walks me to the rickshaw stand, kisses me good bye and waves her hand as my rickshaw takes off. I feel like I am going to school.

12:00 pm - I enjoy 2 hours of blissful sketching. There are lots of sane people (no murderers in sight) walking around me and lots of students are out studying. I wrap up my sketch and head home. I call my mom from autorickshaw and let her know that This baby's day out was succesful 

Incident 2

The day before I leave for Cochin

4:30 pm: Mom pesters me to start packing. I am a perpetual procrastinator and I never pack my bags until a few hours before my flight but I relent and stuff all my things into my bag.

5:30 pm: We weigh the bag and it is 2 kgs over the limit and so begins the packing and re packing. We change bags 2 times, move things around 4 times, weigh the bag 6 times, find more things to be packed 8 times, repack umpteen times. I want to remind my parents of the countless number of times I have travelled alone. Instead I silently watch and reminisce on the very first time I packed my own bags.

7:30 pm: Mom is reciting to me where everything is and telling me to be careful for the 100th time. She repeats this for each valuable I am carrying. I want to remind her that I carried all of these things from the U.S. to India without any issues but instead I just nod my head animatedly. 

9:00 am next day: My parents have arranged a rickshaw to take me to airport. Before I even realize it my dad has taken my bags down and loaded them in the rickshaw. I bid farewell to my parents as they tell me to be careful for the 200th time. 

PS: This post has been exaggerated for humor and is meant to be taken light-heartedly. I am forever indebted to my parents for everything they have done and continue to do for me.

HP3: Trash Talking Kochi

Disclaimer - Homelandia is a series of posts sharing my experiences from my recent trip to India. All the posts are based on true events exaggerated with a bit of masala (spice) in a truly Indian fashion. This includes some immature and naive opinions voiced by yours truly. No offense intended. None taken. Click here to read Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 and Part 7 of the series.

"Aint no city for Queen"

We are walking along the brand new musical pathway called Queen's walkway in Kochi (also known as Queen of the Arabian sea). This was inaugurated just 5 days ago by MLA Mr. Hibi Eden. We are enjoying the cool evening breeze and the refreshing views. Halfway thru the walkway, I stop in my tracks and formulate this letter in my head

Dear Mr. Hibi Eden,

Thank you for making this wonderful and beautiful walkway. You hope to attract big crowds with the beautiful backwater views, brilliant lights and automated music. Did you not expect street vendors to be attracted to the big crowds? Did you not expect people to get hungry for a quick snack  on their evening stroll or cool down with some icecream in the sweltering heat of Kochi? These people currently have three options for trashing their waste. The beautiful new tiles of the walkway, under the manicured new trees, or the pristine backwaters we overlook. Respected Sir, You spent RS. 5 crore on this walkway but forgot to install a single trashcan along the entire stretch.

However I sincerely thank you for the walkway as it gave me the opportunity to enjoy a wonderful morning. I sat under the shade of the tree and sketched the beautiful backwaters.

Sincerely,

concerned citizen

"Aint no country for god"

This got me thinking of waste management problem in Kochi. Kochi is one of the larger cities in the state of Kerala(called God's own country).There is no shortage of natural beauty in Kochi but everywhere I go, I see tons of trash lying along sidewalks  and dumped in middle of neighborhoods, . If I was given Rs. 5 crores for Kochi, I would first try to install a good waste management infrastructure and educate the public on its usage. Proper garbage and recycle disposal mechanisms in all neighborhoods and timely collection and clearing of public garbage cans.
What would you do if you were given Rs.5 crore for your city? Please feel free to share in comments below or on facebook.

Homelandia Part 2: Size does matter

Disclaimer - Homelandia is a series of posts sharing my experiences from my recent trip to India. All the posts are based on true events exaggerated with a bit of masala (spice) in a truly Indian fashion. This includes some immature and naive opinions voiced by yours truly. No offense intended. None taken. Click here to read Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 and Part 7 of the series.

During my recent trip to India I notice a trend...an obsession with weight. Why we think it is appropriate to discuss and voice our opinions on other adult's bodily dimensions is beyond my understanding. Following incidents will demonstrate what I mean

Me to mom and mom to me: "Do u think I have put on weight?". Well, on second thought there is a weighing scale at home which would be much more accurate at answering our query than the human mind.

Aunty to my mom: In the middle of a "hello, how are you" discussion, aunty comments "Your daughter has become so fat, right?" I want to ask aunty to look in the mirror first.

Everyone who meets RJ(my "for better or for worse" half): "You have become so thin.. don't you eat properly?" (accusing eyes on me). I respond with a weak smile and  hold my tongue in cheek wanting to retort "He is 32 yrs old and therefore an adult who is perfectly capable of deciding what and how much he should eat. Add to that his obsession with fitness and no one can convince him to eat what he doesn't want to".

On meeting RJ's cousin, I say hi. Uncle to me "cousin has put on weight, right?" I smile embarrassed. I don't think cousin really wants to know whether I agree on his weight gain or loss.

RJ to his mom: "You have put on too much weight. Stop eating sweets." He just handed her a huge box of specialty chocolates he bought from USA.

PS:

My new year resolution is to really think before I speak :) and to floss every night. What's yours?

Feel free to share your own experience with inappropriate comments on weight in comments below or on facebook.