Happy 60th Birthday Dad!

Birthdays have a special importance in our family. A family-member's birthday celebration and devoting all your energy in making them feel extra loved takes precedence over any other occassion or festival of the year. And so, while my feelings are not restricted to this one day, I think my Dad's 60th birthday is the perfect time to articulate my affection for him.

I have been my daddy's girl (my mom still teases me and calls me pappa ni chamchi) ever since I could remember. When I was a child, I would not leave his side for a second. If you scan over old family photo albums you would find my father holding me in his arms in most of them. So much so that on a family vacation to Mussoorie when I was 3, I accidentally fell off a stopped bus window when I saw my father going to a nearby shop. Only because I wanted to go with him to that shop. Obviously I don't have any memory of this but I never doubted it and we always have a laugh when we talk about it even today.

My father has very actively participated in my brother's and my upbringing. We would wait for him in our balcony to return from work so we could spend all our evenings with him. He taught me math and science before my school teachers got to it so that one day I could be a good engineer like him. He taught me how to play and love the game of cricket so that one day I would have an active healthy lifestyle and appreciate the sportsman spirit. He took me all over India and helped me explore new places so that one day I would develop a passion for travel. He became my role-model while still being my friend. In a predominantly male oriented culture he never made me feel like I deserved to be or have anything less than anybody else.

Today more than ever I feel the physical distance between us bearing down on me. More than anything I wish that I was in India right now alongside my father celebrating his milestone. No amount of flowers or sweets or cakes that I send from here are going to express how grateful I am to have him as my father.

Happy Birthday Daddy! I love you more than I could ever tell you and I am proud to be your daughter more than you would ever know...

One Year Later, Terror On Thanksgiving

We are in Panama city, Florida. It is thanksgiving weekend and we are on another one of our spontaneous vacations. There is holiday spirit all around us with Christmas break coming up, lights and decorations everywhere, cheerful faces all around. We are relaxing in our hotel room looking forward to jet skiing and swimming with the dolphins tomorrow.

I am channel surfing and stumble upon a CNN special by Fareed Zakaria entitled "Terror in Mumbai". We realize that it has been a year today since that terrifying night in Mumbai. As we watch, Mr. Zakaria resurrects that night with actual footage of the shootings, phone conversations between the terrorists and interviews with surviving victims and witnesses.

What I realize with equal shock and disbelief is that I was there that night, within miles of where the horror unraveled, and yet I am seeing everything for the very first time.I had arrived in Mumbai 2 weeks ago and we were getting married within a month. My husband, who was still in the US at that time had spent his entire thanksgiving weekend watching the live coverage of the incident. So none of what Mr. Zakaria is saying is news to him.

I can hear the pain and anger in Zakaria's voice. Mumbai is after all his city as well. It is my city too and we see it being ravaged and plunged into fear by a handful of ruthless gunmen. I don't know what I feel more - hate towards the coward terrorists, disgust at the lack of control by the police, deepest pity for the victims and their kin, or utter helplessness for myself. At the end of the one-hour program I am quiet. I have retreated within - lost, confused, trying to make sense of what I have just witnessed. My husband lets out angry words which is what I would have usually done as well.

The next day we go about our vacationing activities. But the images from the night before stay on. I keep seeing the face of the 12 year old muslim boy who had lost his entire family in front of his eyes and still maintaining his sanity, sadly questioned "what did my family ever do to the terrorists?". And the old gujarati mother who with tears in her eyes said "I put my son's head in my lap after he was shot, poured some water in his mouth and waited for him to say something, but he never did". And the babysitter shielding the 2 year old jewish boy who was harshly awaken by the sound of gunshots and walked to the living room to the dead bodies of his father and pregnant mother. And a young marathi father pointing to his 5 year old daughter and saying how she frequently tells him "look father - mother is smiling at us from within her photo on the wall". And the few brave soldiers who gave the ultimate sacrifice instead of running and hiding like so many others.

I feel helpless. I want to do something but don't even know what. If I could I would go up to that 12 year old boy and comfort him. If I could I would seek out that terror mastermind who directed the trained gunmen through a cell phone from within his safe haven in Pakistan and bring him in front of the surviving victims so they could do with him what they please.

But we forget - all of us. And we move on. For some reason that I don't comprehend, this is supposed to be better than lingering over something tragic. We complain about minor inconveniences and deadlines at work.

Phil Collins makes more sense now than ever before. It IS just another day for you and me in paradise.

Smile Please :)

Okay...I am not having my picture taken by a professional photographer. Nor am I taking anyone's picture.

I am usually just walking or thinking about something, mostly minding my own business, when perfect strangers have come up to me and asked me to smile. This almost always surprises me; it leaves me with a feeling of disbelief that I have an effect on strangers in my vicinity. Is it possible that my inner thoughts are so transparent that they invariably assume an expression on my face.

If you are reading this and you find it "strange", let me humor you with my last encounter of this kind. A few weeks ago I was getting off work and walking to my car. As I sat in and looked up, there was a guy in front of me on the sidewalk extending his fingers on his face in the sign of a 'u' while mouthing the word 'smile'. I sat there staring at his back as he walked by, all the while thinking whether I had imagined this or not. And the only reason I am sure that it was not my imagination is that this has happened at least a half dozen times before.

So at least it is clear that people like other people to smile, or at least show some sign of happiness, as they walk by them. My dad always ends an e-mail or a phone call with me with the words 'Keep Smiling'. They say a smile is contagious. I am sure that is true and that it can have a positive effect on other people. But what is so wrong about not smiling all the time? Am I not being true to all my other feelings by expressing them as well?

I believe it takes a lot of energy to seem happy and upbeat all the time, unmindful of what is really happening inside. But it also has to be emotionally unhealthy to some degree to not seem sad or angry or hurt when you are in fact experiencing those emotions.

So this goes out to the people who despite being strangers have shown concern for my happiness. I value your actions and thank you for making me think about this. I will try to smile as much as I can but please forgive me if sometimes my face does not betray my heart.

Whats in a title?

Whats in a title? Apparently everything. Choosing a topic to write about is the hardest part of blogging. It takes me forever to decide what I want to write about. Which kind of defies conventional blogging. Especially by the younger generation. They jot down anything and everything that comes to mind. Which makes sense too, I suppose. Blogging is meant to relieve your mind of your most present thoughts - however insignificant they might be, not really caring about the proper grammar or vocabulary.

I, however, already having referred myself as part of the older generation (which is quite sad), write short essays. Choosing the appropriate topic, delving on the correct vocabulary, double-and triple-checking the grammar. I want every new post to be an art form within itself, when it is really just supposed to be a reflection of your inner-most feelings. I am being an idealist while bloggers are supposed to be realists. I try to (and TRY is the keyword here) end every post with something my mind construes as 'deep', something that I think would leave the readers pondering, forcing them to think about the topic for a minute or two after they have finished reading it.

All the more evidence that this is no longer my generation. Which is not necessarily depressing. Every year as I get older, I get to step aside and glimpse at the future. The "new people" of the world. Younger, smarter, they seem to be so much more aware and in control of their surroundings than we were at their age. How will their world be? And the world of the people after them? In this technologically advanced age (at least our generation thinks it is), when the next day is different from the last, it is exciting to wait for the change that is to come in just a few years.

Happy Independence!

We are independent. Free to do what our heart desires. But we have not known any other way. We have not born the hardships of slavery nor experienced the cruelty of submission.

And as every year advances the true meaning of independence will keep fading, eventually leading to it being just another holiday.

I am not trying to preach or lecture, simply stating the fact as I see it.


It is not an altogether sorry state of affairs either. We are proud of our heritage, our history, our freedom struggle. And we should be - it was after all a very unique freedom struggle. Our leader taught the whole world that nonviolence can be a very effective weapon causing the least amount of casualties.

This day is dedicated to my grandparents and the people of their generation who seemed to have a higher purpose in life. They fought for our country. They chose the right path. They set out to oust a regime and they succeeded.

Have we stood up to their expectations? Let us be optimistic today and say YES! India is a global power today. Let us each take a bit of credit for that and be proud of ourselves and our country.

Jai Hind!

Olympics - the original symbol of global unity

Olympic games are the ultimate mecca for athletes. It is their time of glory and recognition. The whole world comes together to applaud their performances. We forget our differences and celebrate the achievements of the human body and mind.

Healthy competition promotes a sense of pride and accomplishment; but never arrogance and over-confidence. I believe that, in general, great athletes have a more open outlook on life than the rest of us. Their physical struggles give them emotional endurance as well as a feeling of calmness during times of crisis.

It is a great national honor to host the Olympics. China stands to gain substantially this year by exposing to the world their culture, their lifestyles, their economic and political standpoints, and all their other human potential. It brings closer their dream of becoming the next superpower. China is selling and the world is buying Brand China.

We watched yesterday as Michael Phelps took his 9th gold medal in the 200m free style swimming. I guess everyone expected that. What they did not expect was Natalie Coughlin taking the gold in women's 100m backstroke swimming, beating the favorite Zimbabwe's Kirsty Coventry.

Also, yesterday all Indians rejoiced at the victory of Abhinav Bindra (in shooting) and India's first individual olympic gold medal ever. Hopefully this will help in turning things around for Indian athletes and they will find the encouragement and support they need to succeed at this level.

Past is history? Not really...

Indian civilization and the Hindu religion are the oldest known in the world, yet we know so little of them. Partly because of the vast amount of information contained therein, partly because of the history of invasions in India by foreign lands and rulers, resulting in the destruction of historic documents, scriptures, texts, and thought, and also partly because of our relative disinterest in becoming familiar with our own history.

Today I read about ancient Indian civilizations of Mohenjo-daro as well as ancient Indian universities of Taxila and Nalanda, among the first known of their kind. Taxila was flourishing around 700BC, while Nalanda was founded much later - around 427 CE. Pioneers in the field of economics, mathematics, law, and medicine, like Chanakya (also known as Kautilya), Emperor Chandragupta, and Charaka studied there. Chanakya also taught at Taxila in his later life and authored the famous Arthashastra there.

The Nalanda library is thought to have contained numerous volumes of Hindu and Buddhist scriptures written by a collection of great minds of their time. These texts held within their pages the treasures of vedas, astrology, alchemy, mathematics, and anatomy. The entire university, including the library was burned to the ground and the students and teachers murdered by Mughal invaders in the 12th century.

Which should really just make everyone think: WHY? Why the destruction of progress? Especially progress that is beneficial to all humankind. Why the belief that only that which is mine shall persist and all else perish?

I personally feel cheated out of my right to have been able to gain from our ancestors' knowledge. To be able to visit the ancient sites where our ancestors led their lives and hoped to leave their legacy behind for future generations. How much the world would have been different today if the expansion of knowledge, education, and thought had been allowed to continue unhindered. And how much would the world be different tomorrow without the senseless destruction of progress that is happening today.