Harvard Business Review and marriage...

Another insightful article on the HBR blog today, can be read here.




Essentially, this blog refers to a paper that describes the four elementary forms of social relationships :






  • Family : Everyone shares, unconditionally, no one keeps score.


  • Neighborhood : Don't share equally , but strive for equality (If you have a flat tire, your neighbor might lend a hand. It would be strange to pay him, but you might lend him something as a way to say thanks).


  • Hierarchy : Everyone does as they are told, everyone has a defined role.


  • Market : Everyone is paid their worth.


Further, the blog goes on to articulate why in the best work environments, there is always a mixture of both hierarchy and neighborhood. Treating employees like family would be unfair, as not everyone could pull their weight equally, and a market-type scenario could be detrimental as well. After all employees generally get paid less than what they could get in the open market, which is why consultant wages are higher.



This made me think about marriages. Specifically in context of the Indian marriage in my parent's day and age. A majority of marriages in those days were arranged - thus limiting what we today call "free will". In fact, there are parts of the Indian society even today, where it is the oldest living relative of the family that would make decisions about who the younger ones marry. In that sense, there is a definite sense of structure there, with the elders playing a superior role. But it isn't all hierarchy - there is an element of "market" there as well - elements like financial standing, caste, class etc. inherent in any mating ritual, arranged or not. The "neighborhood" piece comes into play as well when the couple gets married - the extended family of in-laws behave in this manner with each other, friendly but not intimate. And finally there is the family piece - the couple themselves sticking through highs and lows, going the extra mile to make sure the family stays together. Divorce rates in those days were pretty low, partly due to the hierarchy of the social structure, partly due to disparity in the "market" but also due to people's attitude towards marriage.



Modern day pop psych states unequivocally that couples have a much greater chance of making it if they go down the aisle thinking that marriage is forever. Maybe that's what the society then gave couples , whether by the form of social taboo about separation or otherwise. But that set-up did come with some built-in checks and balances. Both sides of the family were heavily involved in the couples life, and decision making. That took the modern day individualism out of the equation, but it did build in some conflict resolution and free marriage advice, things that are available today for 200 dollars an hour. Moreover, couples that lived in the joint family setup lacked what we cherish today, privacy. Their marriage had to be conducted in the public, very voyeuristic glare of the extended relatives, friends, family and the maids. There was pressure on them to have kids as soon as they were married. All their decisions were dictated by someone else. But amidst it all, most of those marriages survived.



One possible explanation of this could be the "common enemy" theory. When you think about it, the most powerful social groups you've formed , right from high school to college, have been through common interests, but more importantly,a common enemy. The other explanation could be that if you have an active conflict with someone else, you are more likely to bond with your spouse because your negative energy has an external sink, and this could have prevented couples from turning against each other.



Marriages in those days were, by no means perfect. I know I have personally judged the marriages of people in my previous generation, and sometimes quite harshly. As much has they condemn modern day , free will ones with disappearing gender roles and skyrocketing divorce rates. But then,there is the question of what defines a successful marriage ? If a couple stays under the same roof, just because of social pressures or because it is convenient , but the communication has completely stopped, would you still classify that as a successful marriage ? Similarly, what is a good enough reason to leave ? Where would you draw the line ?



Maybe in today's world, a successful marriage has the family element to it, the unconditional love bit. But it also has a bit of the neighborhood element as well, which lets you keep your individuality, and yet function as a successful couple. This way your identity doesn't just dissolve into the larger, common social/family unit but thrives independently, thus bringing a better part of yourself to the relationship.



Thoughts ?



The return home....

This post had to be written. However, the timing couldn't be better.




Two posts brought be back from my blogging ennui. They are here and here.




Without going into the details of these posts, let me summarize - two different authors have returned to India after a period of time and talk about their experiences.




In my personal journey - I've lived various parts of south India until 17, at which point I moved to North India to spend the next four years of my life. I left India to move to the U.S. a week after I turned 21 , where I lived in about four different cities over the next seven years of my life. I then decided to move again, this time to the U.K.. We've moved around a fair bit when I was growing up, and I am no stranger to uprooting yourself from a place , moving and starting all over. I've done this quite a few times in my life.




Change of any kind is hard. No matter how used to it you get. Status-quo is just fine, it will do, it has done. It's much easier to stay in your comfort zone than to adapt to new things. And , the older you are, the harder it gets. Also, bear in mind that all these moves so far related to me, mostly. I was the only one living with the consequences of each decision to move, the good and the bad. But it is going to be different now, the next move we make, has to work for both of us. And at some point, there will be more of us involved - his parents,mine, siblings,nephews, our own kids someday. That definitely complicates the decision to move back. And yes, there are financial and lifestyle implications of that decision as well. And of course, there are blindspots - unforseen circumstances and such.




The move from India to the west happens for reasons we all know - better education, better job prospects, money, lifestyle. Things that for most people, would have been hard to get in India, for various reasons. But what motivates people to move back ? I think therein lies the heart of the issue. Every country, every culture comes with its own charecteristics. The author of the NYtimes article claims that the Indian society dehumanizes people.It also makes references to inherent casteism, rampant even in the modern day Indian society. I don't question the veracity of this argument, not for one second. But it is also worth keeping in mind that people aren't ideal - neither are countries and cultures.




The other day, I saw this discussion on British television , where the prime minister addressed the issue of adoption in this country. In this country, black kids are three times less likely to be adopted than white kids,mainly due to the social workers not giving up black kids to white homes for adoption. Yes, it has become a political issue, with parties calling it apartheid-style discrimination. But let's put that side and view it differently for a minute. Imagine the practical difficulties of a black kid growing up in white family - the effect it would have on the child growing up. How would the grandparents, siblings and neighbors, schoolmates accept this child ? What effect would it have on a young child during impressionable years when the identity is still being formed ? It is the job of the social worker to consider all these elements and determine what's best for the child.




A colorblind society is a recipe for disaster. The best cultures move to a place where they understand, acknowledge and appreciate the differences, maybe even celebrate them. Colorblind means closing your eyes and saying no differences exist - color-appreciative means you acknowledge the differences, accept and imbibe them into your cultural fabric. India's casteism is not much different from the racial paradigms, and the issues that the west is trying to solve for.




The return back home is bittersweet. It's a country you know, and a culture that defines you. And yet, you are somehow removed from it. It is like the ability to act in a play and watch it from the sidelines at the same time. We've all read many a book and seen many a movie that talks about immigrant woes. But what an amazing opportunity to carve out a new world for yourself ? One that isn't bound and defined by where you are from or where you live but by who you choose to be ?




After all, isn't that the freedom that propelled a lot of us to pack up, move and explore ?










What makes a life well-lived ?

Just heard of a batch-mate's demise. Really sad news, especially since it came during a phone call to wish another friend for his birthday. Had a college reunion type get together last month. All of us in the age group of 27 - 30 - married, or engaged-about-to-be-married soon. One couple had an eight month old baby. That's the routine, isn't it ? undergrad - grad school - internships-car - jobs - money - gf/bf/arranged meetings - courtship - marriage - house- kid - another kid etc. Just going through life...

But what if life doesn't quite pan out in that order, in quite those timelines ? Life sometimes takes a detour - I've seen people who've chosen alternate careers - stand up, music, non-profit, teaching, you name it. I've also seen people who've chosen or have come into a different personal journey. Some have chosen to travel the world for years. Is one life choice really better than the other ? Will the stable-bank-account-house with picket fence-two-kids person regret not living the travelling carefree life ? Will the vagabond regret not having a home and a partner to come back to ? Who knows ?

And then you have those whom life has decided to bestow something else upon - crippling illnesses, family burdens, and such. Is it really fair to compare within your peer group ? How would you even go about such an endeavour? On the other hand, humans are a social lot, living in communities and societies that make up a part of who we are. Is it realistic to completely do away with peer comparison ? Where does one draw the line between healthy and unhealthy peer pressure ?

And then you have the few batch mates that are no longer with us. Like this one. This wasn't a friend, barely even an acquaintance. It took a few Facebook clicks to place this one. But it doesn't matter - this is someone who shared a unique college experience spanning four years with me. The social group - the shared attributes over the past four years. He was there when BITS student association elected its first woman president, he was there when the IPC (Computer centre) decided to let its students wear footwear inside the lab, he was probably there in the Auditorium, raucously cheering during the Ind vs Aus final of 2003. He graduated, interned somewhere, had a job, was married for less than a year, like most of us in his peer group. And just like that, he is no more.

It really does put life in perspective, days like this. In the final analysis, what makes a life well lived ?

A completely unscientific take on Chemistry...

Husband and I were watching something on TV and chanced on a Jerry Springer outtake - a trans woman having a meltdown. This led us to a discussion of the hows and whys of such a procedure , if you can call it that. How does a man act, feel and gesture like a woman ? Is it an acquired trait, like an accent ? Is it all down to hormones at the end of it ? At the end of it, is it all down to biochemistry ? In that case, can you engineer anyone to act and behave like someone else ?

This led me to think about other things. Like the way we seek a partner. Everyone has thought about this at some point in their lives. Thought about what makes a man and a woman special to each other ? Is it physical chemistry, is it intellectual and emotional compatibility ? Is it humor, is it the ability to laugh and have fun ? What makes a couple tick ?

And then of course, the societal mores. The peer influence, the worry about old age, having kids and such. Every race, every ethnicity has their own peer pressure to deal with, when it comes to relationships and marriage. Even the most liberal ones. After all, late twenties-early thirties is when a majority of people find love, get married, have kids , not necessarily in that order.

What I think it boils down to is this : There is the "you" piece, and then the "us" piece. Both pieces are equally important. Each individual has to go through a personal journey before which they are ready to be an "us". To some that journey is pretty short, they seem to be prepared for it since childhood. To some others, it involves a soul searching journey of meeting and making friends, falling in love, career, money, travel - all of this somehow contribute to getting them to a place of relationship readiness. That is the you piece.

And then there is the us piece - the part where chemistry happens, you both hit it off. All about compatibility and such. Much has been written about why we marry the people we marry - tons of theories about chemical composition, hormones, psychological reasons, sociological, anthropological - you name it. This particular emotion has been the most well-researched topic of modern times, and entire multi-billion dollar film industries depend on it. So I won't comment on this piece, except say the most cliched thing in the book - When it happens , it happens.

So then there is the timing bit - when you both are at that place in your personal journeys where if you meet the right person, you'll give it what it takes - your everything. Right person, right timing. I guess thats what it comes down to.


The mom-daughter saga....

I recently read a blog by a woman who is the mother of two girls. She talks about how she envies what the daughters have with their dad.

It made me start thinking about my own relationship with my dad, a father of two girls. I can only imagine how lonely it must have been for my dad to go without male bonding in the house as we were growing up. Girls are fun to watch grow, they can be pampered, spoiled , I suppose. And every dad is possessive of his daughters, in the sense of protecting them from the harsh adult and sometimes male-dominated world. Being a man himself, every dad feels like they know how the male psyche works, and hence are protective about their daughters.

My dad was different. I don't think I've ever seen him worried about any of our male companionships, even the ones we were interested in as more than friends. No, that was my mom's job - to worry. To worry about what we wore, how we spoke, who we talked to , who we would marry. In a way, that was, and is, a reflection on her. My sister and I didn't make the choices that my mom did. We are not stay at home wives, we don't dress the way she did, we wear make up, we have careers, we've lived away from home many years, travelled on our own, and we have male friends. Many of the restrictions that my mom had growing up did not apply to our household. And although she is proud of the women we have become, a part of her does feel rejected and hurt because we didn't make the choices she did. And she partly blames my dad for the missteps that were a part of our coming of age. I am married now, and my relationship with my mother-in-law, and even my husband is still all attributable and is a reflection of, the way she raised me. I can only imagine what kind of pressure my grandma put on my mom in those days.

I always think of my mom has a daddy's girl.When she was growing up, my granddad was quite strict in terms of what they could listen on the radio or what kind of clothes they had to wear. And yet, it was her relationship with her mom that was more complicated. The mom and daughter relationship, is very confusing. From a very early age, we look to moms to understand how to be a female. And with the rapidly changing gender equations of our generation, we are often on our own when it comes to figuring out what feminity means in today's world - work-life balance, how to be career woman in the outside world - assertive and confident, while still being the nurturer at home. I often think many of the strong opinions we have about our moms are often a reflection of our own fears - our insecurities and shortcomings mirrored in our mothers behaviour. It is unfair, as we don't put that kind of pressure on our dads.

My husband has it all figured out - If we have a girl child, she is not allowed to date until she's 25. I get the feeling he'll get away with such stuff, it's me she'll blame anyway :)

Complex, confusing,frustrating, fulfilling - it's what makes the mom-daughter bond enduring and enigmatic.

நாளை வதுவை மணமென்று நாளிட்டு.....

வாரணமாயிரம் சூழ வலம் செய்து

நாரணன்நம்பி நடக்கின்றான் என்றெதிர்

பூரண பொற்குடம் வைத்துப் புரமெங்கும்

தோரணம் நாட்டக் கனாக்கண்டேன் தோழீநான்.



நாளை வதுவை மணமென்று நாளிட்டு

பாளைகமுகு பரிசுடைப் பந்தற்கீழ்

கோளரிமாதவன் கோவிந்தன் என்பானோர்

காளை புகுதக் கனாக் கண்டேன் தோழீ நான்.



இந்திரனுள்ளிட்ட தேவர் குழாம் எல்லாம்

வந்திருந்து என்னை மகள் பேசி மந்திரித்து

மந்திரக் கோடி உடுத்தி மணமாலை

அந்தரி சூட்டக் கனாக் கண்டேன் தோழீ நான்.



நாற்றிசைத் தீர்த்தங் கொணர்ந்து நனி நல்கி

பார்ப்பனச் சிட்டர்கள் பல்லார் எடுத்தேத்தி

பூப்புஉனை கண்ணிப் புனிதனோடு என்று அன்னை

காப்பு நான் கட்டக் கனாக் கண்டேன் தோழீ நான்.



கதிரொளி தீபம் கலசமுடன் ஏந்தி

சதிர் இள மங்கையர்தாம் வந்தெதிர் கொள்ள

மதுரையார் மன்னன் அடிநிலை தொட்டு எங்கும்

அதிரப் புகுதக் கனாக் கண்டேன் தோழீ நான்.



மத்தளம் கொட்ட வரிசங்கம் நின்றூத

முத்துடைத் தாமம் நிரை தாழ்ந்த பந்தல் கீழ்

மைத்துனன் நம்பி மதுசூதன் வந்து என்னைக்

கைத்தலம் பற்றக் கனாக் கண்டேன் தோழீ நான்



வாய்நல் லார்நல்ல மறையோதி மந்திரத்தால்,

பாசிலை நாணல் படுத்துப் பரிதிவைத்து,

காய்சின மாகளி றன்னானென் கைப்பற்றி,

தீவலம் செய்யக்க னாக்கண்டேன் தோழீநான்.



இம்மைக்கு மேழேழ் பிறவிக்கும் பற்றாவான்,

நம்மையு டையவன் நாராய ணன்நம்பி,

செம்மை யுடைய திருக்கையால் தாள்பற்றி,

அம்மி மிதிக்கக் கனாக்கண்டேன் தோழீநான்.



வரிசிலை வாண் முகத்து என்னைமார்தாம் வந்திட்டு

எரிமுகம் பார்த்து என்னை முன்னே நிறுத்தி

அரிமுகன் அச்சுதன் கைம்மேல் என் கை வைத்து

பொரிமுகம் தட்டக் கனாக் கண்டேன் தோழீ நான்.



குங்குமம் அப்பிக் குளிர் சாந்தம் மட்டித்து

மங்கலவீதி வலம்செய்து மணநீர்

அங்கு அவனோடும் உடன் சென்று அங்கு ஆனை மேல்

மஞ்சனம் ஆட்டக் கனாக் கண்டேன் தோழீ நான்.



ஆயனுக்காகத் தான் கண்ட கனாவினை

வேயர்புகழ் வில்லிபுத்தூர்க்கோன் கோதை சொல்

தூய தமிழ்மாலை இரைந்தும் வல்லவர்

வாயு நன்மக்களைப் பெற்று மகிழ்வரே.

On the Sun and such...

How did the rose
ever open its heart
and give to this world all of its beauty?

It felt the encouragement of light against its being,
otherwise we all remain too
frightened.

--------------------------
Even after all this time
The sun never says to the earth
"You owe me!"
Look what happens with a love like that
It lights up the whole sky

-- Hafiz

Travelogue..

I had written this but didn't post it until August of 2011. Here is the original travelogue :

https://sites.google.com/site/vivitsagoestoeurope/

Larry King was interviewing Shawn Johnson. Something about a stalker and such. A group of very enthusiastic school kids from Spain were waiting to board the flight to Madrid. My flight to Heathrow was delayed by an hour. This was perfect, I got to catch up with all my friends, say goodbye, and get started on "Dear John". The last minute stress of packing, activating international roaming and the like was starting to take a toll on me. I had "Dear John" and "Twilight" on the agenda to finish during this vacation. I had received two clear instructions, one from friends and one at work. One was not to have any agenda, the other was to quit checking email. I was surprised at how well I followed both.

I landed in Heathrow, bright and early at 6 30 AM on the 28Th. The airport was relatively quiet, I

got through immigration and customs in no time. I saw a uniformed cosmos driver, waited for another crabby old lady west Indian lady from Queens (remember this one for a funny anecdote later) and drove to the hotel. I settled in, grabbed a tube map and was on my way, this was exciting !

My first stop was near the Big Ben, that's when I eyed two important things. One is the roadside shop with the Union Jack hats that Joey stops for F.R.I.E.N.D.S. , the other was a yummy pancake/waffle shop. I made my way to the London Eye. The crowds were unbelievable, but not unlike my daily commute. Remember the annoying tourists that get in the way in NYC when I am trying to get to work every day? Well, I was one of them now.

I took in everything, the crisp summer day, the huge influx of middle eastern tourists sporting the head gear and Prada bags,the desi influence in normal cuisine, the accents and the like. I paid almost double the price to get an express pass to go on the London Eye. The views were panoramic, but I am not sure it was worth the price. I loved the Cornetto stalls everywhere, felt very reassuring. They had new flavors, well "new" according to me, anyway. Must have been about 9 years since I had one.

I was able to get some good shots of the Royal Albert Hall , as I made my way out of there towards Westminster Abbey, and 10 Downing. I remembered my history lessons and the famous people who were buried there, but I could only come up with a few. My sleep debt was beginning to catch up with me, and I decided to get over to a friend's place for the night.

Part of the reason I decided to make this trip alone was that I needed a change. So meeting familiar faces wasn't really a big objective of this trip, but these guys were different. We hadn't met in a while, and we had things to catch up. It was amazing how our lives had changed and taken drastically different directions in the past 2 years. It just goes to show how nothing in life is permanent but change.

The next day, I was in front of the Buckingham palace, bright and early. It worked out really well,because I was able to beat the crowds before it opened. This was a good time to take this trip in more ways than one. The Buckingham Palace is only open from end of July through October for public viewing.

No photography was allowed, which was great because it gave me the time to listen to the audio tour and actually take it all in. It was a palace alright - 17 staterooms, each with its own decor, antique elements, and style. The highlight of the trip was the exhibit " Queen's Year" - It had elements of her life from each season, complete with her dresses and insignia. To an outsider , it almost felt like the monarchy was trying to reach out to a broader audience, in hopes of preserving it's position in a new generation of Brits. Personally, the ostentatiousness was lost on me. On the one hand it is surprising that the country can find the funds to maintain a part of history, even though it is completely superfluous to today's world. Sure, she makes an appearance to start every new parliament session, and wears her robe. So ?

Anyway, the crowds had gathered to watch the change of guards, another non-event if you ask me. I made my way back to the hotel in time to join a group to go to the Tower of London. Tower of London is historic, the scene of many bloody battles, espionage and the like. I saw the historic Traitors Gate and other memorabilia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tower_of_London.


We then proceeded to see the crown jewels. There is a room containing the coat of arms for every dynasty which leads to the actual display of the crown jewels, orbs, sceptres,swords used during coronation and other important occasions. Yes, that pang of anger I felt on seeing the Kohinoor, housed in the queen mother's crown was palpable. The GBP is 72 Indian Rupees now, thank you colonial rule !

The next day we left from London by motor coach to Dover, from where we boarded the ferry to Calais, France. The ferry was similar to the one in Seattle, you could drive your cars into it. Huge food courts and duty free shopping , you are in France in no time. Funnily, I wasn't asked for my passport anywhere we crossed borders. We were getting ready to alight the ferry when I met the crabby old lady again. This time she was with a young Indian guy. Her intent was pretty obvious, and I tried to avoid it altogether and made banal small talk, waiting to alight. She must have been old enough to be my grand mom, that one. She wasn't even that nice to me on our way to the hotel, and she was on a different tour than mine. As if her intent wasn't evident, she turned to me and asked me , on my face, "Are you Single?". Me : Wow ! Talk about subtlety. "Hmm.. mmm.. Yes?" She : " You both should get together then" Me: *cringing* She : Pointing to him , You should ask for her number, you should exchange emails, go out. Me : DID she just SAY that out loud ?


It was SO funny, really,really embarrassing, and kind of endearing at the same time. There I was, standing on a ferry from Dover to Calais, on this vacation all by myself, thousands of miles away from everything. And there she is, a random old lady, trying to hook me up. Wow. I guess you can run, but you cannot hide. Also, people all over the world are not much different, when you think about it. They all value basic things - friendship, love, family. And the need to be part of a fairy tale. Ha ha.

Anyway, so that's where we met our actual tour group, my tour guide, and driver. More on my group later, but the important thing to remember is that I was fortunate to share this experience with such a fun loving, enthusiastic group. My experience was enriched by these guys - across languages, ages, gender and ethnicity. We made our way to Paris just in time to head out to see a Cabaret show "Lido". This was something like Broadway-meets-Vegas type risque drama/comedy/musical. The lighting, special effects and stage settings were amazing. There was a ten minute piece of Indian dancing, and music, complete with Ganesha and Elephants. Yes, scantily clad women and Ganesha. Bollywood is way more pervasive than we fathom.

We strolled through Champs-Élysées , caught the view of the Eiffel Tower by night.Paris is a city like no other. Now the French - Well, they think France is the greatest country in the world. The have Paris, the French Rivera, the alps, brie, baguettes, the most visited tourist destination in the world, can you blame them ? Anyway, they are very Chennai when it comes to their language. Let me explain. They will not speak to you in English, even if they know to speak it. You have to make an effort, least a "Bon Jour" type greeting, for them to try to communicate with you. I don't necessarily take offense. Ask my fellow Chennai brethren.

We started our tour , driving through Paris with a local guide the next day. It was hard to understand her accent, but she sure had character. We caught glimpses of the River Seine. You can see parts of the Seine river's embankments have been filled with sand. You can see cabanas, umbrellas and sunbathers. This is for people who cannot afford to get away, I am told. Thoughtful.

We passed the Louvre, the pyramid in front of the Louvre, et al and reached the cathedral of Notre Dame. I was speechless, I hadn't seen anything this magnificent in a long time. I was caught between listening to the tour guide, taking in the sight, or capturing it on camera. We exited and spent time at a gift store. I was thrilled to finally find clothes my size - T-shirts, sweatshirts and other souvenirs. We then drove through the city , and got off at Champs Elysees.

I decided against going to Versailles, opting instead to walk around the city. With a map in hand, a group of us enjoyed Paris by the day. Intermittent rains did not impede our journey. I ate Banana-Chocolate crepes at the roadside stall. Delicious. We walked to the Arc De Triomphe, and got some good shots, and then made our way towards the Lafayette mall , only to get lost. This just got more adventurous. We decided to take the RER back. Of course, all the ticket booths were written in French. We finally got someone to help us buy tickets and got on the right train. We reached the Lafayette Mall - The architecture is splendid. Paris is all wealth - I saw an obscene collection of high end, luxury brands. I was dizzy. I tried to make my way through the crowds and do some shopping, as I was thrilled that I finally see clothes my size. I didn't splurge though, I spent sensibly. I rejoined my tour group at the Opera house, and go back for some rest.

In the evening, we left to Monmartre. It is famous for it's Church, nuns who made wine and hence became the drinking district. It is also very artsy, bohemian. The Dalis and the Monets of the world lived and worked here. The church itself was very beautiful, and I felt like I was in a real place of worship - The silence, the candles light all over, the prayer books - it was crowded but not touristy. We then left to dinner.

So legend has it that when France was under siege, the troops hid in this mountain so they could get a clear view of the city, they prayed that if they ever got out alive, they'd construct the most beautiful chapel , and they did. But what is even more interesting, is that they ran out of rations and hence started cooking and eating cockroaches and frogs. Which explains some of the options on the dinner menu. Anyway , dinner was a fun affair, huge groups of Australian boorish travellers singing and dancing to keep us entertained. After the main course, there was a cheese course, where I sampled some very interesting cheeses. For dessert, I enjoyed profiteroles.

Overall, Paris was great, I just wish we had more time, I would have really loved to see the Louvre and pay a visit to Mona Lisa.

The next day we embarked on a journey to Lake Lucerne. It was the Swiss National Day so we saw a lot of flags and streamers, and we were excited about watching the fireworks from our hotel. I realized how American I've become in some ways. In my mind expected to see a pyrotechnic show rivalling the fourth of July fireworks. I saw instead, flowerpots and rockets, very similar to Diwali back home. It was fun nevertheless, until the rain Gods decided to make their appearance. The lake itself was so perfect, we bonded, took pictures and took a stroll. We came back and walked around the hotel , where there was a chapel on a hill, there were cute cobble stoned streets and bistros like in the picture book. As we walked around, we saw a gushing waterfall, between two houses. Just like that. I imagined what it would be like to live in a picture postcard, every single day .

That night was my birthday, I also got calls from my thoughtful friends. I knew this would be an unforgettable day. The next day as I got on the bus, the whole group loudly cheered and started singing to me. It was a great start to a day that only kept getting better and better. We left to Lucerne. The scenery cannot be adequately described. Words or pictures cannot do justice, so I won't even try. We went to see the statue of the sleeping lion, and then we embarked on a scenic cruise on the lake Lucerne. We saw the rich people's houses for a while. Again, I am not even going to describe it , I can supplement it with photos but they don't do justice either.

We came back to do some shopping in Lucerne. There were some freebies to take advantage of. A Rolex spoon , a chance to enter a lottery etc. The Swiss , unlike the French, are interested in , how do I put this, betterment of their economy. Ergo, they accept all currencies, speak English, and in general welcome tourists. I walked around scenic Lucerne, sat down and watched the swans float by, spoke to my parents. I was far, far away from home, although, the term "home" is pretty vague to me these days. I missed celebrating my birthday with family and friends, but this was new, exciting. After all, how often do you get to celebrate your birthday at 10,000 ft ?

I gathered some memorabilia to take home - mostly for my nephew. We then left to Mt.Titlis. This is a three step cable car, the first one seats only six people. Each car has a flag of a country, and of course, I had to get all high-school-nerdy and try to guess every flag. PS: It's amazing how much trivia you can forget as you grow. This is also home to the world's first revolving cable car. Pretty cool, except it was raining and a bit foggy as we went higher. There were also a few people who were scared of heights. Just as an FYI - The Swiss stress test these cable cars every year, after which they are passed on to the Italians, Romanians and so on. Note to self : Never take the cable car in Romania.

The top of Mt.Titlis was snowy and pristine. Of course, it was an Indian invasion out there, starting with a Rediwallah at the bottom of Titlis, serving hot samosas and chai , to the DDLJ cutout, to the Indian buffet and pizza, to photos of bolly actresses who've visited the place. Why ? Well, if you are even an occassional bollywood movie watcher, you'll know that roughly 98% of Hindi movies have a romantic song pictured atop a snowy mountain, replete with the scantily clad heroine making snow angels and the hero flaying his arms and joyful delight. Well, that snowy peak , is Mt.Titlis.

We came back, changed and headed to a fondue dinner, and Swiss folklore entertainment. Now, we got to hear the alpine horn, but more importantly , we got to see the other "musical instruments" at work. A broomstick and stick, a coin circling around a porcelain bowl and the like. Honestly that sound was terrible, like the chalk against the board. It was fun to hear the castanets and cowbells though. The troupe also sang me a Happy Birthday, that was a fun surprise. Midway through dinner, a fake cow made it's appearance through the tables, it was so funny to see people's reaction to something so obviously fake. It was a good try to break up what was getting to be a monotonous show. The grand finale was the yodeling. The troupe called volunteers on stage to yodel in front of the entire audience. I was volunteered by my group, I am glad I did. What followed was caught on tape, enough said. My raucous group carried it forward into the bus, by now we'd graduated to singing and dancing on the aisles. I was transported back to those carefree days of high school picnic, the singing, dancing, joking. Just what I wanted, what a perfect birthday !

The next day we left bright and early to the Italian speaking part of Switzerland, Lugano. Again, picturesque lakes and waterfalls, and a fresh farmers market. Lots of Gelato to be had, but I was saving up until we crossed the border to Italy. I bought fresh marmalade, and i mean, farm fresh. I'll still regret the carelessness of putting it in my cabin luggage , having to throw it away at Da Vinci. Oh Well. I did have some amazing hot chocolate and potato Quiche there. This was fun.

We left Lugano and proceeded to Italy. Again no border restrictions. Every rest stop we used throughout the trip had amazing food. No not the stale burgers, but fresh, hot food. We made our way to Verona, and I also finished reading "Twilight". The first hundred or so pages were pretty so-so, but it did get exciting after that. But nothing legendary about it, this book is no Harry Potter. It's more of an "I want to keep abreast of Pop-lit" more than anything.

We reached Verona, where we saw the Arena, and some naked statues. But Verona, is famous for Juliet's Balcony. OK,so Romeo and Juliet were a figment of Shakespeare's imagination. Legend has it that in those days, the famous writers took vacations in Italy, where they purchased stories from lesser known writers and passed it off as their own. The story of Romeo and Juliet is believed to have some resemblance to two warring families in Verona. Now, some say that the actual balcony was too dilapidated to use , so, this current balcony was chosen instead. There is also a statue of Juliet, and grazing her left boob is supposed to bring you luck in love. The crowds that throng this vague representation of a fictional place, is unbelievable. You can also see walls with graffiti , lovers names scribed. I caught a few funny ones on camera, including a huge "I love Jonas Brothers". There is also a letterbox, where you can write letters to Juliet. Yes, "Letters to Juliet" is set in Verona, where apparently a group of people answer these letters. I am not going to comment on the significance of this fictional place, I get that when you are in love, you just want something to believe in - fiction or real.

Before we proceed, a word about Italy's devotion to coffee. The baristas at self serves are not allowed to serve anything else, like sandwiches, as it is taboo to contaminate the sanctity of the coffee.

We made our way to the Queen of the Adriatic, Venice.We reached our hotel which was outside of Venice, parked at the parking island and took the ferry into the main island, where we were greeted by a nice , big rainbow. Venice, the place of my dreams. I had imagined it to be a lot smaller. It is a collection of islands, where nothing on wheels is permitted. There is a central parking island, from which there are ferries, boats and gondolas to navigate the city. Fake bag vendors and huge tourist crowds set the stage for what would be a memorable evening. We made our way through the crowds to get to Piazza San Marco - St.Marks square. I was not prepared for the magnificence of the architecture. It was simply breath taking, and again, no picture can do justice to what the eye can see.

We made our way to our dinner place. Dinner was a very interesting affair. At my table, sat an elderly couple from Buffalo, NY, an Australian-Italian , and a young Saudi couple. By some accident, the topic meandered into politics. It was very interesting to hear opposing viewpoints, especially how the world views the U.S. versus how they view themselves. An unlikely combination butted heads - The Italian-Australian , and the American lady. The Saudi couple were trying to break it up. Who'd have thought !

The next day, we reached Venice and started the day with a glass blowing demonstration. We saw the Murano art, the delicacy of the colors, and the painting on the glass. I was awed at the ease at which the master creates complex figurines from hot glass. I should upload those videos sometime.

This was followed by the much awaited Gondola ride, complete with the Serenader. He sung at the top of his voice, with such fervor, unmindful of the gawking tourists, as our gondola made its way through the narrow Venetian canals , and beautiful bridges. This was my fairy tale , right there.

Thanks to Rick Stevens, I had read that one should take the less touristy route around Venice to actually experience the city. So I started walking away from Piazza San Marco, and wandered through the streets of Venice, clicking pictures, eating at Bistros, and generally taking in the scene. It was a very hot summer day, and I was in Venice. Yes, the Venice we've read about in books and seen in movies.

We then proceeded by ferry to the colorful island of Burano, about forty minutes from Venice. We saw Casanova's house on the way. His claim to fame, by the way, is having had about two hundred nuns from the nearby church.

Burano, is an island famous for its brightly colored houses. There are many theories on how it came to be, some scandalous, some mundane.Burano, though, is famous for lace-making. It is here that we saw Olga, the famous lace maker, a wizened old lady, meticulously making lace by hand. We picked up a few more trinkets, and some lace items, savored the local delicacies and headed back to the hotel.


The next day, we continued our journey towards Florence. Florence is famous for leather goods, and our tour started with a leather making demonstration. It was rainy in Florence that day, and we decided to take a bit of a break from the tour. A group of us were sitting at this coffee shop. I had a very interesting conversation with an elderly American couple on the immigration issue in Arizona. It is one thing to be proud of your country, it's another thing to close your eyes , and pretend that it is a perfect country. Anyway, we then made our way to see the famous Michelangelo's "David". We strolled around the city, transported back to when Florence was the cradle of the renaissance. Our guide took us to an off the beaten path gelato place, where my obsession with Gelato began.

We reached Florence where we stayed the night. The region of Tuscany/Florence is famous for their saltless bread. Yes, no salt in the bread. It has to do with a maritime war between Pisa and Florence where Pisans levied high salt taxes, and the Florentinians showed dissent by baking bread without salt. We spent the evening chatting, strolling , playing cards and again, this was a throwback to summer holidays at Grandmas. I had no idea how much I missed those days.

The next day, we started to Pisa. The leaning tower had been closed for many years for renovation. The engineers re-tilted it by a few degrees , so it wouldn't topple over. It was a bright , sunny day, and there were many photo opps. Pisa has a disproportionate number of shops selling African merchandise, as does Venice.

Funny thing that happened, I was missing my purse. I had a big handbag full of stuff, and I had been warned about pickpoketers in Pisa. I had both my cell phones on me, and I was missing the tour director's number. Luckily I found someone in my group who had her number, so I called her, and she was able to call the driver and locate it at the motorcoach. Now, this event was fortuitious, because, an hour later, I missed my tour group, who had taken the train back to the motorcoach. I called my tour director, who asked me to get on an orange bus and get to the parking lot. Now, the streets of Pisa are narrow and crowded, I got on the first orange bus, which ,turns out, was proceeding in the opposite direction. Of course, no one spoke a word of English. I got off at a random intersection, to find my way back. My tour director spoke to a shop owner , who was trying to explain where I was, no avail. I somehow gathered that I had to walk back to the Tower, where Alex would meet me. After about 45 minutes of walking, I rejoined my tour group. It was an adventure to remember. Thank God for international roaming cell phones, and my carelessness in leaving behind my wallet, if not I wouldnt have had Alex's number handy.
We then proceeded to Rome, where we started with the Pantheon, many oblesisks, the column of Marcus Arelius, and after some yummy gelato , reached the Trevi fountain. Now, if you are in Italy, don't forget to try a variety of gelato, that's made of thick cream, it's much different from icecream, in that it's creamier, almost like eating a cold version of "Paal Kova". The flavors are amazing too. My personal favorte - Hazelnut.
After the mandatory coin drop at the Trevi, we made our way to the Spanish Steps. It was a bit of a hike to get to the top, where we made our way to have the best meal of the trip. Very fresh Caprese salads,bruschetta,Lasagna, Tiramisu - actually every meal in Italy has kind of morphed into one big delightful gastronomical event in my head at the time of writing. Italian men are famous for treating their women well, as you can see from the way they talk to you. You'll be called "Bella", meaning beauty. At the end of one dinner, the Chef came out with roses and a kiss in the cheek for all the ladies of my group. Loved it !
Now, I know I sound like a spoilt American teenager when I say this, but as much as I enjoyed the Pizza in Italy, but I didn't think it was out of the world. Gelato, yes. Pizza .. not so much. I guess if you live in NY and get used to the thin-crust, it comes very close so you don't miss a whole lot.
Our next day started off with what was my personal highlight for the trip - The Vatican ! We had to get there by eight o'clock. Being a Catholic country, most churches in Italy have a dress code. No bare shoulders or bare knees for women. And yet, the Burqa concept is so unfathomable to most Westerners. Anyway, much has been said about the Vatican, and I for one, couldn't get enough of the mystery, even as I was growing up, pre-Dan Brown era. Vatican is it's own soveriegn state, complete with huge walls, governed by the church. Vatican is one of the most visited places in the world, so we were dealing with a huge swarm of people. The guide did a great job of keeping us all together as she guided us through the Vatican museums. Tapestry, paintings, sculptures replete with history , felt surreal. She also took the time outside explain the paintings inside the Sistine Chapel, as there wasn't any talking allowed inside.
We must have spent about ten minutes inside the Sistine Chapel. It was an unreal experience for me. You've read about it in boring history classes, sure you've seen the paintings, talked about it, and read numerous fiction novels based on it. But it is nothing like being in there, a meditative, reflective trance, if you will. I don't remember opening my mouth or my camera for the rest of my stay at the Vatican. Most of my time was spent on the last judgement, my mind trying to take in as much as humanly possible, hoping to connect the dots later. Sistine Chapel also serves as the Papal conclave, where the next pope is chosen. We saw the chute from which smoke signals are sent as and when a decision is made.
We made our way to St. Peter's Bascilia. The oldest and largest church in existence, the seat of all Christian activity. I made a mental note to visit the Mecca at some point in time. St.Peter, one of the apostles, and successor the papal legacy , was buried here. The body of St. Paul, is also displayed for everyone to see. Entire treatises have been written on this subject, which for brevity reasons, will be a separate post. We made our way to see Michelangelo's Peita a reinaissance masterpeice. The detail on Virgin Mary's face, the expression of compassion, the strength with which she holds a grown Jesus supported on one arm, is incredible. We walked through the church and saw more sculptures and paintings and I was making as many mental notes as possible, hoping to draw inspiration for my book. But mostly I didn't ever forget that I was walking on hallowed grounds, where history was made.
A pizza & Gelato break later, we were on our way to the Colusseum. Now, vacationing on a package tour has pros and cons. You are obviously sticking to a schedule , for most of the day anyway, and lose some of the flexibility associated with travelling on your own. But my personal observation is that unless you have more than a month to travel Europe, it's not worth venturing on your own. Figuring out travel, hotels, sightseeing gotchas will definitely be more hassle than it's worth. But most importantly, we were able to bypass the huge ticket lines at every step, especially the at the Vatican and Colusseum. Those who know me will attest to the fact that standing in the heat for four hours at each location would not have been fun for me.
By this time, we were all exhausted. The heat was relentless, and we as a group had jelled so well and friendships had formed. Everyone forgot their daily life this period of time, and just let lose. The end was nearing, and we were all dealing with it in our own ways. I for one, was going to postpone the inevitable until I got to the airport. I could deal with all my to-do's on my flight home.
As we smiled for a group shot, we knew this trip was unforgettable to everyone, in their own way. This trip meant things to people - to one, it was returning to his motherland after 20 years, to another, it was seeing her mom after 11 years, to someone else, it was the last family vacation before the kids went to college. To some, it was another tick on the map hanging at home.To a young dad, this was his birthday gift to his daughter, to make up for his years of absence in her life. This trip marked the end of things to some, new beginning to others. To a convalescing mom, it was an escape from her daily battle, something her family will cherish and talk about in the years to come, as the future was uncertain. To the proverbial american teenager, it was the realization that a world exists outside of the States. To an elderly couple, it was the realization of all things ancient, and how things in the U.S. seem too recent in comparison.
To yet another family, it was the joyous celebration of being alive. They had escaped wars in their motherland, lived in hiding and fear in random countries before moving to the states and building a home and a life from scratch. To yet another young couple, it was their honeymoon. A honeymoon they could spend, opening expressing affection, something thats forbidden in their country. To the teenage wife, it meant meeting people her same age, leading drastically different lives talking about boys, parties or curfew. It also meant singing the latest Rhianna song aloud with them openly, or playing cards. Afterall, she is a teenager. Life after she got back would be different - drastically different, and this was her window to a world far away, far, far away. The world, up until now, she knew about only through through stolen english DVDs, and pop albums.
To me, it was a world away from the familar, a chance to reflect , pause, and take stock. A chance to experience new things. I think in the end, it made me realize how lucky I am to have the life I do. It made me realize that many things in life I worry about are trivial, and I cannot be thankful enough for the freedom of choice I have, and the security of having family and friends around. I have a motherland and culture that I am proud of, I have an adopted country that accepts me with open arms, and provides me opportunities to grow and learn. Most importantly, I can go home to my country, any time I choose to, I don't have to run , hide or take refuge. I have been gifted the intelligence to experience and understand religions different than my own, with an unbiased eye, and appreciate the philosophy. God has gifted me with health, the ability to dream, and the support system to help me achieve it. For all this and more, I will be eternally thankful.
As we all headed home, some to their families, some to their pets, back to their routines, I was happy to get back sleep in my own bed. I had a family waiting for me, I had a two year old nephew who missed me. That is a sweet deal. Anything else that comes my way, I'll handle it , one day at a time. Afterall, life doesn't come with assurances.
The Colusseum was just as I had seen in the pictures, only more giganic and real. We climbed to the top to get a view of the erstwhile amphitheater, big enough to seat 50,000 people. This set the stage for gladiator fights, wrestling, re-enactments, executions and the like. Remember "Princess and the Lion" ? We then walked to the arena and hypogeum level, which is an array of network tunnels, used to house animals and performers before they went on stage.
We then proceeded to the Roman forum. We were equiped with audio headsets, while the guide was giving us the history behind it. She was knowledgable, but it was a hundred degrees outside, on the last day of our tour, and none of us was paying too much attention. We did take some good pictures, and I promised myself I'd read up and refresh my memory. The jist of it though is, this is a big archealogical site where the remains of imperial Rome was discovered. A complete city, from palaces, to churches , temples and arches.
We headed back to rest before our last night out. We embarked on a trip to Castel Gandalfo, the Pope's summer residence, where we witnessed another change of gaurds. There was a fountain and a beautiful lake Albano surrounding the castle. Some more gelato and trinket shopping was in order. This town, Lazio, has been voted one of the most beautiful towns in Italy and thankfully, it wasn't touristy or crowded. We walked around, enjoying the cobblestoned streets, the quaint bistros and the friendly people. We proceeded to another sumptous dinner, Italian style. Margherita Pizza, and singers to entertain us, and fancy percussion devices, by the end of my trip, I could sing "O Sole Mio", which was a personal achievement.
I returned back for a last night out with the group. Everyone narrated the best and worst moments of the trip. We mingled, exchanged contact information, hugged and said goodbyes.
Our paths diverged again,some got back on the road, some went back to their families, some to their pets, back to their routines. I had a family waiting for me, I had a two year old nephew who missed me. That is a sweet deal. Anything else that comes my way, I'll handle it , one day at a time. Afterall, life doesn't come with assurances.
Tommorow we would all embark on the journey home, knowing that we just made an unforgettable memory together. As for me, I want to do one of these every year.
Next Trip : Egypt , Morocco,Greece and Turkey. Stay Tuned ! :)
அலமாமரத்தின் இலை மேல் ஒரு பாலகனாய்

ஞ்லம் ஏழும் உண்டான் அரங்கத்து அரவின் அனையான்

கோலமாமணி ஆரமும் முத்துத் தமமும்

முடிவு இல்லாதோர் எழில் நீலமேனி

ஐயோ நிறைகொண்டடு என் நெஞ்சினையே

George Costanza Vs Barney Stintson

Does media mirror reality? Watching sitcoms of a particular era is a good indicator into the social landscape of that time.



So is it an interesting paradigm shift in the American media and household in how men are potrayed? Let alone hen-pecked, slacker,out of shape husbands who never grow up, but love their family, have a good heart and don't cheat on their gorgeous wives as potrayed by numerous sitcoms, "Everybody Loves Raymond", "King of Queens"or "According to Jim".



Let's shift the focus for a bit to the single men of the late '90s. George Costanza , is a typical single New Yorker in his late 30s, maybe early 40s. George Costanza is potrayed as a medicore worker who cannot keep his job, over-weight, balding , with little or no luck with women, with quirky overbearing parents.



In sharp contrast, Barney Stintson is your smooth 30 something New Yorker, in top shape, always in suits, thinks of life as a larger version of a video game where one needs to come up with new tricks to score random hotties. He is self-absorbed, seemingly successful and thinks he is nothing less than "awesome". He is also very insecure about his friends getting hitched, and loves babies and laser tag. And doesn't want to grow up.


Granted, both characters are exaggerated caricatures to evoke laughter, but is there something more to it ?

தாலேலோ தாலேலோ !

I stir lightly. I detect something heavy on me. No, it's not my goose-down comforter. Something soft, and cuddly. Insistent too. He doesn't stop. He pokes my ears playfully at first, and when I don't budge, he goes straight for my eyes. As I wake up, I see a two year old, smiling at me. He has big plans for me for the day,none of which involves me sleeping in. I give in, reluctantly at first, as I am dragged to his playpen, or the big king size bed in the master bedroom, depending on his royal highness's mood. There is that little detail of teeth brushing, which we almost skip. I manage to finish up quickly, thanks to the constant pulling of my pyjamas and gesturing to follow him.


His day has begun atleast a couple of hours before sunrise, he cannot wait to include me in it now. He has his little house, a box big enough to fit two of him. He drags me in, and there is barely room to breathe. He needs his mommy in there too, and grandpa, grandma and nanny too. He doesn't get the concept of space yet, adorably so. He has the attention span of, well, a two a year old, and we switch over to the piano. He drives his truck on the keys, and is amused by the music the device produces. He grabs the toy microphone and hands it to me. Before I can use it, he has of course, shifted attention to his toy laptop, his toy cookie jar ,and the basketball hoop, although not necessarily in that order. It's time for his daily breakfast.

After about two hours of running around the house, jumping on the bed, dancing to "No more monkeys jumping on the bed", watching videos, playing peek-a-boo and the like, he is finally done. I take him for a stroll around the block, we decide to stop by the swing for a bit. Not particularly interested in swinging today, he decides to explore the slide, climbing in reverse to get to the landing. A little girl stops by, he barely notices. I smile, knowing that there will be a time in the future I'll miss this stage in his life. She runs upto him, eager to play. He runs aimlessly and stops. He notices she has a big ball. He grabs it and starts playing with it. She runs after him,blowing bubbles, his attention swings between the bubbles and the ball. He quickly loses interest though, opting to watch the grown-ups shoot hoops. A red bumper racecar driven by two eight year old roars into view, and he runs after it. The kids stop by, and offer to drive him around. He is so fascinated , he just wants to watch them drive around instead.

We get home after a tiring day in the sun, and it's time for his afternoon nap. He is at his hyperactive best, opting for a game of ring-around-the-rosies instead. Just when things get out of control, I hum Neelambari softly. He turns around and looks at me. Something sounds familiar. He nods and stops the babble, not a squeak. This means he approves, by the way. I continue, and his eyes are transfixed on me now. I sing louder, in a slow, steady voice. He walks upto me and puts his head on my lap. I am amazed at how music is the only thing that calms this otherwise hyperactive toddler with an average attention span of twenty seconds. I pat him lightly, and I hear deep breathing. I reach , ever so slightly, to grab the pacifier on the desk, lest I disturb the good thing we have going. He lets me sing, he stops all activity now - no running around, no dancing. I continue, I see droopy eyes. My heart swells, my nephew has music in his soul.

I dream of days I'll spend taking him to concerts. I dream of the day we'll discuss Kalyani Vs Sankarabharanam. I hope he'll share my distaste for the former, and sometimes I secretly hope he takes his grandpa's side and we'll argue about it .I hope he loves the Aussie cricket team, like his aunt and grandpa, and I hope we see loud, raucous cheering. I dream of playing ball with him, I see a few angry neighbors and broken windows. I hope I can share my love for Tamil, and I hope I can one day teach him the meaning of the lullabies I sung to him when he was two. Maybe one day he will understand the beauty of this verse, that pictures Lord Rama as a baby and sings Him to sleep.
But more importantly, this two-year old is asleep in my arms now, as I softly end my Neelambari. The thought of having one of my own scares the living daylights out of me some days, but this little one in my arms makes that thought ever so possible. Does he know how he has changed my life just by being a part of it ? I wonder. He'll know some day. Maybe he'll stumble on this blog when I am long gone. Afterall he does have music in his soul.


மன்னுபுகழ் கோசலை தன் மணிவயிறு வாய்த்தவனே!
தென்னிலங்கை கோன் முடிகள் சிந்துவித்தாய்! செம்பொன் சேர்
கன்னி நன் மா மதில் புடை சூழ் கணபுரத்தென் கருமணியே!
என்னுடைய இன்னமுதே! இராகவனே! தாலேலோ!


புண்டரிக மலர் அதன் மேல் புவனியெல்லாம் படைத்தவனே!
திண் திறலாள் தாடகை தன் உரம் உருவச் சிலை வளைத்தாய்!
கண்டவர் தம் மனம் வழங்கும் கணபுரத்தென் கருமணியே!
எண் திசையும் ஆளுடையாய்! இராகவனே! தாலேலோ!

கொங்கு மலி கருங்குழலாள் கோசலை தன் குலமதலாய்!
தங்கு பெரும் புகழ்ச் சனகன் திருமருகா! தாசரதீ!
கங்கையிலும் தீர்த்த மலி கணபுரத்தென் கருமணியே!
எங்கள் குலத்தின்னமுதே! இராகவனே! தாலேலோ!

தாமரை மேல் அயன் அவனைப் படைத்தவனே! தசரதன் தன்
மாமதலாய்! மைதிலி தன் மணவாளா! வண்டினங்கள்
காமரங்கள் இசை பாடும் கணபுரத்தென் கருமணியே!
ஏமருவும் சிலை வலவா! இராகவனே! தாலேலோ!

பாராளும் படர் செல்வம் பரத நம்பிக்கே அருளி
ஆரா அன்பு இளையவனோடு அருங்கானம் அடைந்தவனே!
சீராளும் வரை மார்பா! திருக்கண்ணபுரத்தரசே!
தாராளும் நீண்முடி என் தாசரதீ! தாலேலோ!

சுற்றம் எல்லாம் பின் தொடரத் தொல் கானம் அடைந்தவனே!
அற்றவர்கட்கு அருமருந்தே! அயோத்தி நகர்க்கு அதிபதியே!
கற்றவர்கள் தாம் வாழும் கணபுரத்தென் கருமணியே!
சிற்றவை தன் சொல்கொண்ட சீராமா! தாலேலோ!

ஆலின் இலைப் பாலகனாய் அன்றுலகம் உண்டவனே!
வாலியை கொன்று அரசு இளைய வானரத்துக்கு அளித்தவனே!
காலின் மணி கரையலைக்கும் கணபுரத்தென் கருமணியே!
ஆலிநகர்க்கதிபதியே! அயோத்திமனே! தாலேலோ!

மலையதனால் அணை கட்டி மதிளிலங்கை அழித்தவனே!
அலைகடலைக் கடைந்து அமரர்க்கு அமுதருளிச் செய்தவனே!
கலை வலவர் தாம் வாழும் கணபுரத்தென் கருமணியே!
சிலை வலவா! சேவகனே! சீராமா! தாலேலோ!

தளை அவிழும் நறுங்குஞ்சித் தயரதன் தன் குலமதலாய்!
வளையவொரு சிலையதனால் மதிளிலங்கை அழித்தவனே!
களை கழுநீர் மருங்கு அலரும் கணபுரத்தென் கருமணியே!
இளையவர்கட்கு அருளுடையாய்! இராகவனே! தாலேலோ!

தேவரையும் அசுரரையும் திசைகளையும் படைத்தவனே!
யாவரும் வந்தடி வணங்க அரங்க நகர் துயின்றவனே!
காவிரி நல் நதி பாயும் கணபுரத்தென் கருமணியே!
ஏவரி செஞ்சிலை வலவா! இராகவனே! தாலேலோ!

கன்னி நன் மா மதிள் புடை சூழ் கணபுரத்தென் காகுத்தன்
தன்னடிமேல் தாலேலோ என்றுரைத்த தமிழ்மாலை
கொல் நவிலும் வேல் வலவன் குடைக்குலசேகரன் சொன்ன
பன்னிய நூல் பத்தும் வல்லார் பாங்காய பத்தர்களே!

On being single

Alright.

I've had this blog pretty much since 2004, when I was just an enthusiastic undergrad kid with stars in her eyes.

It's been six years since then. I walk through memory lane sometimes, I see that girl vividly through her posts. Sometimes juvenile, sometimes precocious, she was wasn't even old enough to drink back then.It doesn't matter who she was, but it does help that I can relive her through her posts.

More reasons to blog regularly. But I digress.

As has been mentioned in many other posts, there was a point in time where I gave up revealing personal information on this blog. No, I am not paranoid about e-stalkers. Although, come to think of it, slapping on a foursquare widget to this blog, or facebook , for that matter, is very creepy. "Hello, I just checked into the Starbucks at the corner of Vine and 6th streets with Ceclia Smith". You just make it so easy for the stalkers, there isn't even any thrill anymore. Whatever happened to old-fashioned night vision goggles ?

But I digress again.

There is a line you draw between keeping the blog personable, but not too personal. You want to give people a window into your life, but only to the foyer. Talking about my experiences being single , I guess gets into the too personal category. But also, this is that age where everyone around me is looking for, or is in a relationship. Hence the focus on this topic.

1. What consititutes being "Single" ?

Single means you are not married, engaged, or seriously dating / have feelings for someone at the present time. No, being in a complicated relationship, while also registering on matrimonial/dating websites doesn't count.

2. What consititutes "looking"?

Looking means you are interested in finding someone with whom you can have a long term relationship, eventually leading to marriage. Looking doesn't mean half-heartedly answering emails after two months, because you are helping your ex get over her/his ex, hoping that she/he will fall in love with you. Just getting that out of the way.

3. You are single at an age where majority of women are married. Why?

Glad you asked. Before you get any ideas of me being a lesbian fembot, let me assure you - I am as straight and screwed up as the girl next door. And beneath this tad cynical exterior, there is the girl who believes that some day she will find someone. You know, who she can, you know , ok don't make me say it.

4. Do you who you are?

Wow. That didn't take very long to ask. Does anyone, really truly know who they are? Isn't it part of the charm? The journey of self-discovery?

5. Is "Independent" really a nice way to say "headstrong" ?

I see, a "How I met your mother" fan. Great! I can work with that ;)



The late post about the year that was...

Wow. This is probably the first time I've missed an important event on the blog. The New Year, I mean. Not even the customary recap of the year that was.

Not that 2009 wasn't eventful.Far from it, actually. In more ways than one, '09 has been noteworthy. It has opened the door to a new level of self realization. In more ways than one, this year has been about me,and me only. Coming from a person like me , that is saying a lot.

A huge comeback mid-year career-wise, resulted in a promotion,a new exciting role and move to the Big Apple. I am psyched as shit ! I am all pumped like a lioness in her prime , ready to kick some serious ass. Sure, there is risk and challenge involved, but bring it on baby !

There were some very important relationships that needed to be mended, and I see progress made. There were also some relationships that had to be let go. Some painfully, some filled with a sigh of relief. Others with mixed feelings.

Perhaps the most important thing I learnt in '09 was that life is a series of choices.So you just have to keep making bold choices, and correct course if needed. But standing in the middle of a busy junction can be costly, not to mention fatal.

There are things like these and many, many more that I now know as a result of 2009. And that, my friends, is priceless.

Sri Bhargavi Bhadramme Dishathu

This is one of Sri Muthuswamy Dikshitar's five krithis in a series called Sriranga Pancharatnas. The five are :

  • Ranganayakam (Nayaki)
  • Sri Ranganathaya (Dhanyasi)
  • Rangapura Vihara (Brindavanasaranga)
  • Sri Ranganatham (Poornachandrika)
  • Sri Bhargavi (Mangala Kaisiki)

I was fortunate enough to learn this rare krithi from my Guru Smt. Mythili Jagannathan. She runs a music school in Trichy called Guruguha Gana Vidhyala. This is my rendition of this song.





Pallavi

SrI bhArgavI bhadraM mE diSatu
SrI ranga dhAmESvarI

Anupallavi

saubhAgya lakshmI satataM mAmavatu
sakala lOka jananI vishNu mOhinI

caraNam

madana guru mAninI mama manasi tishThatu
madhu-kara vijaya mangaLa kaiSikA nivasatu
sadana madhyE mahA lakshmI sadA viharatu
sAmaja hEma kumbha snApitA vijayatu

pada nayanAnana kara nalinI
parama purusha hari praNayinI
vadana kamala guru guha -
dharaNISvara nuta ranga nAtha ramaNI


Hiranmayeem Lakshmeem

Pallavi: HiraNmayeem Lakshmeem sadhaa bhajaami
Heena manavaasrayam tyajaami

Anupallavi: Chiratara sampath prathaam Ksheerambhudi Tanayam
Hari Vakshasthala Aalayaam Harineem charana Kisalayaam
Kara Kamala dhruta Kuvalayaam maragatha mani Valayaam

Charanam: Sveta Dwipa vaasinieem srikalaambhikaam
Bhootha bhavya vilaasineem bhusura pujithaam varaam
Mataram Abjamaalineem maanikya Aabharanadharaam
Gita Vadhya vinodhineem girijaam taam Indiraam
seetha kirana nibha vadanaam sritha chintaamani sadhanaam
Peetha vasanaam Guru Guha Maathula Kaanthaam LALITHAMM
(HiraNmayeem Lakshmeem Sadhaa Bhajaami )
I have no issues with Gay marriages. I have some very close and wonderful friends who are gay. It doesn't matter how I feel about homosexuality as a concept but in terms of civil rights I believe that everyone should have the right to enjoy equal civil union liberties, whether married to a person of the same sex or not. I don't get conservative bullshit about protecting the sanctity of marriage. I think thats hypocritical - if sancitity is all you care about then you should ban divorces too. In a country where more than half the marriages end in divorce, take that pseudo-conservatives !

While we are at it, let me be very clear on the abortion issue. I am a vegetarian by choice, and I don't believe that we have the right to kill anyone, let alone another human life. But this is MY personal belief. I believe that there is a God, and I believe that we don't have the right to kill another life. Yes, I know the gray areas - incest, rape, congenital defects. I am not going there. But my point is, it is MY belief that abortion is not justified in most cases and it is not something I would ever do. But on the same tone, I would not impose it on anyone. It is an individual's right to choose . Why is the state trying to play God ?
"Robert, there is a creature inside you I am not good enough to bring out, strong enough to reach. Sometimes I have the feeling you've been here a long time, more than one lifetime,and that you have dwelt in private places that none of the rest of us has even dreamed about. You frighten me,even though you are gentle with me.If I didnt fight to control myself with you,I feel like I might lose my center and never get back"

"She wished him steaming trains that left from winter stations"

"Before I became a man I was an arrow - a long time ago"

"Falling from Dimension Z"

"In retrospect, it seems inevitable - it could not have been any other day - a case of what I call the high probability of the improbable"

"Ways that whisper to you in the final moment before sleep comes, when the barriers have fallen. ways that rearrange the molecular space between a male and female, regardless of the species"


"Analysis destroys wholes.some things, magic things, are meant to stay whole. if you look at their pieces, they go away"

"The old dreams were good dreams, they didnt work out but I am glad I had them"

"The bottle unopened


and glasses empty


she reached to find them


somewhere north of Middle River,


in Iowa.


I watched her with eyes


that had seen a Jivaro's Amazon


and the Silk Road


with caravan dust


climbing behind me,


reaching into unused


spaces of an Asian sky."



"To ancient evenings and distant music"


" There was room to dance again. In a slow, unremitting way she was turning home, toward a place she had never been"

"around the ancient tower .. i have been circling for a thousand years"


"This is why I am here on this planet at this time Francesa. Not to travel or make pictures but to love you.I know that now. I have been falling from the rim of a great high place somewhere back in time,for many more years than I have lived in this life.and through all of those years, I have been falling towards you."


"i am the highway and a peregrine and all the sails that ever went to sea"

"In a universe of ambiguity, this kind of certainity comes only once, and never again, no matter how many lifetimes you live"

My favorite quotes from "The Bridges of Madison County". This post was orginally written on 8/21/08. Not sure why that is relevant, but I loved the book and so I needed to post this.
This city is beautiful. As in breathtakingly picturesque. Perfect setting for a rom-com. On a different note, I've been wondering a lot lately. Ruminating. Are we living our lives virtually ? Has social media changed inter-personal dynamics? Where does one draw the line between work and play?

I am on social networking sites, and somehow as luck would have it, I am in the position of using social media as a career tool as well. I've had this blog for almost five years now and I've managed to keep it personal. Religiously so. Not once has a little sliver of what I do for a living somehow mysteriously find it's way in one random post. Never. And I work hard to keep it that way. No accidental posts on FB, no tweeting a particular post I am proud of. That's one of the reasons I love this space. It's a personal part of me.

But I find myself almost paranoid to write about this very beautiful city that I am in this week. There are stories to be told, pictures to be described. There are tales about lost heroes to be written about, yearnings, the peace in solitude but mostly just the old world charm. The idyllic boat-rides, the horse drawn carriages, the winding river , the fairy-tale like setting in the Venice of America. The bases, the uniformed men, the guy with ten kids , and the really sexy crew cuts. But I hesitate to use the words, I know Uncle Sam is looking over your shoulder, and the last thing I want is some random traffic just because I was specific about a location. Security concerns, you see. Where are the days when all you blogged about was Sonu Nigam. And that worked out just fine :)

And then there are these posts about the year that has been. Losing grandma, moving, the travels, the people, the experiences. Wondering about life, wondering about yourself.It's what someone once called "delicious ambiguity". You know, talking about embarrassing moments or how your back hurts like hell. But that requires displaying a certain kind of vulnerability and you sometimes forget how to. Sticking to music posts seems a safer option, you know.

A lot has been said about creating your "personal brand" online. Using social media to "market yourself". It's about defining your persona, give people a glimpse into your personal life - to basically humanize yourself. That's all great but what happens to the real you? At what point do you feel safe enough to let people see you, in all your imperfect glory?

I could use a place of no pretense, no judgement right about now.No need to choose words to express yourself. Just silence. No words.