The Times They Are A'Changing

You know that feeling where you wish your life was such that you could pack your bags and leave for wherever you wanted whenever you wanted? I realized those things never happen the way you want them to but, eventually you do reach where you are supposed to reach. In my case I am hoping that is New York. Yes, I am moving there end of this month (December 29, 2010.) It is a little daunting to think about it. I literally have NO plan of action. I figured the worst that could come out of it would be that I would get to experience New Years Eve New York style and see some of Washington D.C. - hopefully when its not snowed in. Also travel around Boston and NOT go to Harvard just because the rebel in me would revel in knowing that I am not just another Indian vying to be inside those walls.

For anyone else who has made that shift you know what its like to leave the sunny 60 degree weather in California for the frostiness of the east coast. So scary! But the scarier thought was not doing anything about the job situation. I weighed the pro's and con's, made an excel sheet and though the con's outweighed the pro's of my decision - I decided to move anyway!

So, sure I am not a filthy millionaire who can fly off to wherever it is that I fancy. I am still travelling to more places than I was when I was working. I am experiencing the humility of accepting kindness from family and friends. I am learning to swallow my pride and reach out to people for help. I am learning the depth of this feeling called hope- its never-ending ability to sustain the human heart. I am also learning about my strengths and weaknesses. As I see it, this is the picaresque novel of my life and this journey is taking me more places than just cross-country.

Family

I got sad news from home today. My grandfather (only surviving grand parent) isn't doing too well. He fell down and fractured his foot and cannot have a surgery because his heart has a huge blockade. I fell into one of those moods that I dread. At 16, when I first moved away from my boarding school of 11 years and went to study in the city, a lot of things happened simultaneously. I lost it! Over the years I have done a decent job of gaining a lot of my self confidence back and feel stronger than I ever did before. But incidents like these shake me to the core.

Knowing that I never had enough time with my family. Knowing that no amount of time will ever be enough. These are hard things to face. Why does life always have trade-offs? My heart wants to go home after graduation and spend time with my Dad in the wilderness of North-East India and visit my mountain home and boarding school and go swimming for hours. But my head pushes me in a direction so completely alien to me that it almost does not feel like its in the same body as my heart.

Also it makes me question the legitimacy of my decisions so far. Did I make the right decision in coming away so far and risking a great relationship and watch it being tested time and time again? Should I continue to strive for a career that involves being far away from everything that I love so much?

P.S. On a lighter note- received a blast from the past today. Story of my life! At least this one was good looking ;)

Yoga

This post is a quick scribble before my yoga class. I have been doing yoga for the past five years of my life. It is one of those things that you never can learn enough. Till date I have never found a yoga class too easy. However, of late I have developed an interest in yoga that is more to do with the mind than the body. I have been looking into Kundalini and trying to practice a little everyday. Today I started listening to a guru talking about Kriya Yoga and was immediately absorbed. Those of you who know me also know that I am a devout believer in karma and karmic debt. This is why kriya yoga was like my best gift to myself.

The premise of Kriya yoga is derived from the Bhagvad Gita and mainly from karma yoga, jnana yoga and bhakti yoga. The commonality between all of the above is that they eventually aim at a detachment from the fruits of action. Karma yoga deals with the inner activity of the mind, jnana yoga deals with spiritual knowledge and wisdom and bhakti yoga talks about unconditional love. All of these are very interesting because they seem to be the exact opposite of what we have come to expect in life. We start out in Kindergarten and are taught how much our grades matter for our promotion to the 1st standard. When we play in the school basketball team we feel the pain when we lose to another team. When we don't make it to the top colleges in the country we cry about our future. When we don't get interviews out of job applications we get anxious and worried. However, the premise of practicing any of the yoga's above is that we should learn to detach ourselves from the fruit of our actions and concentrate on our actions alone. While working, I often thought about how enjoyable work would be if I only had to worry about doing something really really well and not meeting targets or sending out a certain number of emails just so I could be better than someone else.

This is why I made up my mind to learn more about Kriya Yoga. "Kri" - actions are all results of an indwelling soul- "ya." Kriya yoga emphasizes the relationship between the breath and the mind. There is a guide to getting started that I won't bore you with. But it is very exciting to know that I can enjoy the fruit of my labour without worrying about the result but just by enjoying the moment. I read once that we endure pain in this life because we inflicted pain on someone else in some other life and are now  repaying our karmic debt. Kriya yoga is way to even out that debt in this lifetime by making sure our actions don't hurt anybody. Brownie points for those actions that help somebody -- I guess! OK time to run to my class to discipline my body with vinyasas.

Who Would Have Thought!

So, I have started writing voraciously again. I have been writing about mundane things like cooking and baking. For those interested in some of my attempts at being creative - http://kitchenkreative.blogspot.com/.

Other than that, I have been hungrily devouring all the free tools that Google has to offer me to monetize my blogs. Its more like an experiment at self teaching than anything else. One of my friends taught herself to speak many different languages. I am just trying to teach myself not to be a dumbfuck when it comes to technology. Hence you returning readers will notice the new template and pretty background. I hope you like it.

This post is called who would have thought because:

1. I am up at midnight
2. Writing about food and cooking
3. Trying to get caught up on tracking tools
4. Trying to read and write HTML (see Allie, I can teach myself a new language too)

If any of my (limited) readers have an input on improving this blog do let me know. In the mean time please take advantage of all the great inputs I have on food in my other blog. Yes, yes I know I am shamelessly advertising myself. The last time I checked this was still my page on the web :)

This and That

I realized how long it had been since I wrote just for fun. You would think that not having to write about maternal mortality, India's green revolution, bio gas plants in Bangladesh or internally displaced people in New Orleans would be reason enough to sit down and write! Sigh! Anyway, a lot has been going on since my last post. For one - I am back in the territory (USA.) There is a lot to be stressed about this time:

1. This is my last semester
2. I need to look for jobs that I may consider doing for more than 2 years
3. An 80yr old landlord who openly watches porn (uughh)
4. 22 units worth of classes
5. A part time job
6. Wild and crazy dreams

The dream I had last night was particularly disturbing. I dreamed that I was a mother with an infant and a toddler. Again, you would think that was scary in itself! It gets worse. We were moving homes and for some reason I knew I was going to be murdered by a serial killer who attacks only when people are moving. I was more scared for my children and was pushing them under the beds and covering them in blankets. There was this disturbing sense of resignation almost like I was helpless when it came to my death. Super freaky dream to have when you are 24.

That apart there are things that are going well:

1. I have been consistently working out for almost 3 months now and have lost close to 10lbs. Yoga, running and spinning are what I do most.
2. I have begun cooking and eating home cooked food rather than the frozen stuff. This has allowed me to experiment with dishes like chana masala and pav bhaji which I normally would not try.
3. I have significantly reduced my intake of fish and chicken (the only two kinds of meat I eat)

Now if you pictured me as one of those people on the biggest losers show - please stop! I used to weigh about 138lbs and am now down to 128lbs. I can tell the difference though. I can run faster and cycle more in the same amount of time. Just dont know how long I want to keep pushing myself so intensely.

P.S. After writing this post I realized that my personal life has never been better and my professional has never been worse. What should I be feeling?

A Rajdhani Experience

A journey on any of the trains of the Indian railway is always a very revealing experience. I was travelling by train for the first time in almost a year and had one of the best times of my life. Here is the entire narration:

I got on the train with just one bag and lots of expectation of a good nights sleep. As I was looking for my berth I saw at least half a dozen coolies ahead. I clutched my hands in prayer that they weren't crowded around my coupe and braved on ahead. As I approached the coupe knowing full well by now that they were indeed on my turf I attempted a weak smile. Now, it wasn't the site of the coolies (porters) that made me nervous but the implication that half a dozen porters meant that there were at least a dozen bags. I was wrong there were 16 pieces of luggage. A couple who had two berths had taken up the place meant for the luggage of eight people.

I settled into the little seat that they had graciously cleared for me. Feeling a little annoyed and trying to inspire the zen in me I pulled out a book and started reading. Gradually the other five people started appearing one by one. The first a lecherous, young college student. Kept smiling at me like we shared some kind of secret joke. I am quite sure this was the first time I was seeing him and there was nothing remotely funny about having the Great Wall of Baggage around me.

Then came a family with two cute little girls. One of them seemed to take an immediate liking towards me. I have to admit I was flattered. I am glad I did not encourage it much further because moments later she was coughing up phlegm at an alarming rate. Her mom proceeded to clean her up and dry the cloth on one of the seats.

The rest of the journey was uneventful if such a thing is possible on a train ride between the two silicon cities. What struck me the most was the level of tolerance we have developed. Is it tolerance or patience or just genuine understanding of someones predicament. Not one person complained about the suitcases. In fact not one of them looked remotely mad about it either. They started up a friendly banter. At some point when one of the little girls (the one that liked me) got whacked by her mom the college student came to her rescue. I can tell you this much - she did not need rescuing. At the end of my journey the guy also helped me down with the minimal luggage I had trying to glean every little bit of information he could from me. I have been in a room full of people at parties. But there could not be more warmth there than there was between eight random strangers in this B2 coupe of the Rajdhani Express.

This World of Contrasts

Here I am - working in IIM Bangalore. The campus itself is idyllic. Its green, clean, huge and made of stone. The architecture is beautiful and people are very smart (some are under the age of 21.) Most students here are training to be leading professionals in their fields in life though I doubt that between their undergraduate institute (IIT mostly) and here they have had much time at all to think about what they really want to do.

Step outside and you will find broken pavements, open drains, cows roaming around in the muck of the drains, honking buses and beggars. This is your first contrast. Some distance away from IIM is a huge building that is the training center for at least 1000 tailors- all women. Sharply at 5.00 P.M. everyday these women stream out into the streets. There is the second contrast.

Unlike US universities that try to milk the students as much as they can while in school here everything is relatively cheap. The fees are about $16,000 for two years. This is inclusive of living too. Food for students in the mess is free and delicious. Others can get a meal in the canteens for Rs 15 which is about 1/3rd of a dollar and tea/coffee for Rs 4 which is roughly 1/10th of a dollar. Given that most students once they are out of the Institution make about $60,000/annum after taxes n India you would think that they would be heavily penalized while they were studying. But that's another contrast between this world and the west.

The crowd in IIT is relatively homogeneous. Engineers, Economists and Mathematicians abound. Most students have PPO's or pre-placement offers to join some foreign firm in a very respectable position. Given the world outside - recession in the US, bailout in Greece and austerity measures in the rest of Europe you would think that India is in some parallel universe of its own. Jobs are (for the first time) not scarce. Almost everyone from a trainee tailor to an MBA student has a future to look forward to. This is the best contrast. All power to youngistan :)

For my Dida

I started writing this out as a toast to my difficult life in Monterey and changed my mind to write about someone who knew what the word difficult really meant- my Dida (grandmother). She passed away two years ago on my birthday. It was a really difficult time for my family as they watched her struggle with cancer in the final stages. But this is not to talk about her pain but about the spirit of endurance that she instilled in all her children, a filtered down version of which is now a very strong part of my life.

Dida ended her formal education at the age of 9 when she came away to India as a refugee from Bangladesh (erstwhile Pakistan). She lived with her half-brothers. She looked after their children who were the same age as her. Her future looked bleak with her family still in Bangladesh and no one to give her the kind of looking after a child needed. I am told she was offered a role to act in a very popular Bengali movie opposite Uttam Kumar However her brothers would not let her take up acting because it was a disgraceful career.

Her elder sister found my Dida a suitable boy, my grandfather- who is the furthest thing from suitable even at this age! They got married and three kids followed in quick succession. My grandfather who was in the air-force had a quick temper and never hesitated raising hands on the kids. It was my Dida's quiet tenacity that acted as a balm to her kids.

As a grandmother I remember her being tireless. She would do everything to spoil everyone in the family and never ever asked for anything in return. My grandfather never gave her anything apart from the bare minimum required for sustaining the family and Dida managed to save something to give each of us - she would buy us little gifts as children. She is one of the most imaginative people I ever met. She would tell me about the constellations on balmy nights on the terrace. She would take me on boat rides across the Ganga every time I went to her house. She would take me to the kitchen and teach me Bengali delicacies.

She had the best sense of humour and even in my post-surgery condition she managed to make me laugh. That is saying something!

The house my grandparents lived in was called Gitasha. A conjunction of her name and the noun Asha (meaning hope.) Her house was her hope, something she never expected my grandfather to make a reality. Her elder son did make it a reality.

I get the first part of my name from her - Gita. If you inverse the syllables it becomes - Tyagi phonetically (meaning sacrificer.) Her name as well as her spirit live on in me. In a way she is my role model right up there with Gandhi. I wish I had known her better.

Something fall apart, somethings make you hold, somethings that you find all beyond your control

He left on the 15th and for one intense day I realized how madly I do love him. I never thought I would grow old so soon. But I could not have chosen better arms to grow old in.

I woke up to a really bad dream. I read some really old and sad emails. I did everything I should not do when I am sitting alone and need to get out and get some company. I just wanted something to make me cry and howl because I couldn't cry at the airport or on the caltrain.

Then I realized that I didn't want to cry because the memories we shared and the hopes we have are so bright. I realized that this was just a preview of the movie the rest of our lives could be. I realized that no one encourages me the way he does and I would not be the same person I am without him.