musings.....

Of all the times to be away from Boston, summer is probably the most ill-fitting. Especially when the Queen (Well, for all practical purposes, anyway) flew down to talk to some Harvard grads.

I must admit, the idea took a while to sink in to me. What was she going to talk about ? Compare the Potter - Voldemort duel to the travails of the real world? Talk about how she had the power to change the world and bring kids back to reading?

Of all things she could have talked about , talked about "Benefits of Failure". To a bunch of Harvard Grads, yes. Here is a small excerpt. The full transcript is available here.

My Chitti thinks I have the most adorable yawn she has ever seen.Wait till she sees my smile. Hey, thats just my job - eating,pooping,sleeping and - well just being adorable. But mostly sleeping. They talk too loud, and whats with the doors they bang? Don't these people know that my tiny ears can't take this ? Oh well, I ll just sqirm a little and make little noises, and then my mommy holds me. It feels like heaven when she holds me close, its familiar. I also like it when I hold my one arm up , my mommy bends over and kisses me.

My daddy stays near me always, too. I don't open my eyes too much, because, you know all these bright lights I cannot take. But every once a while, I see my dad and chitti playing on a silver square thing. I suspect that playing will be a lot of fun with them. My thaatha holds me softly and talks to me. I squint my eyes, I am fascinated by an orange turban he wears. When I am a little older, I will ask him what that shiny crescent in the middle means..

Oh, its time to be cute again and wail a little so my Paati will hold me. Why does everyone want her to leave me inside that crib? I feel so lonely in there. I want to be held by her, she is soo soft and warm and . Oh and btw, I've taken over my chitti's blog. Why does she need to write here anyway? Alright, I am tired and I am going back to sleep. Bye!

In about 45 minutes from now, I am going to watch a Celtics Vs. Cavs. game.

I just had to get this outta my system before I go !!

Rajasthan Royals announces Global Fan Community alliance with BITS Pilani International Alumni Association!

The first international fan base by an IPL team is launched!

Jaipur, 30th April 2008: Emerging Media, owners of the Jaipur IPL franchise, Rajasthan Royals announced a first-of-its-kind global fan alliance by signing an exclusive relationship with BITS Pilani International Alumni Association. With this association Rajasthan Royals will induct over 30,000 BITS Pilani Alumni into the Rajasthan Royals support base, providing all members of the community with special offers, free tickets and discounted merchandise of the Rajasthan Royals.

In addition, the Rajasthan Royals will also contribute to the BITSAA community with special articles written by Shane Warne and a charity auction at a later stage. BITS Pilani, the premier engineering and sciences institution is located in Rajasthan, only 5 hours away from Jaipur. Rajasthan Royals is also extending the benefits of this alliance to over 5000 students and members of faculty of BITS Pilani.

Manoj Badale, Chairman of the Rajasthan Royals said, “We are extremely excited about this partnership. BITS-ians worldwide are a fine representation of India, highly educated, well settled and truly global citizens, yet deeply connected by a certain bond they share. With this alliance, we hope to provide them another reason to bond: supporting a fierce team in the Royals.”“BITS Pilani alumni around the world are rooting for Rajasthan Royal’s victory in the IPL tournament. Go Royals!”, said Professor S.P.Kothari, Chairman of BITSAA, who is currently Deputy Dean at the Sloan School of Management, Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

“This is the foundation of what will be a huge community for us in due course. We have a number of initiatives on the anvil, both online and offline for increased interaction between our global members and of course, the Warnie Army has begun to take shape”, said Ravi Krishnan, Vice Chairman of the Rajasthan Royals Commenting on the relationship, Fraser Castellino, CEO of the Rajasthan Royals said, “Of course, the fact that Pilani and Jaipur share a home in Rajasthan was the primary connection between us. This is another first for us and we look forward to support from the BITS-ians.” With Shane Warne being the only international captain of an IPL franchise and a few fine winning performances, the Rajasthan Royals are already attracting fans from all over the world.

"Rajasthan Royals is the natural home team for the global BITS Pilani Alumni because of the memorable times we spent at Pilani, Rajasthan. BITSians all around the world are rooting for Shane Warne and the team", said Ashish Garg, CEO of BITSAA.

As part of this deal BITSians around the world will get:

• 50% discount on all season tickets for all Home Games (Played at Jaipur)

• 20% discount on purchase of 10 or more tickets for specific games (i.e not season tickets).

• Free tickets for home games that BITSAA will raffle to its members for specific promotions

• 50% discount to BITSians who may want to purchase a VIP box for the season

• Special tickets to RR away games like the ones in Bangalore, Chennai, Mumbai, Delhi and Kolkata

• Discounts on RR merchandise

• Articles from Shane Warne and other Rajasthan Royals players for the Alumni Magazine, Sandpaper 2.0

For the millionth time - I am proud to be a BITSian :)

"..... I was 15-and-a-half, and I was thrown into a haunted universe where the story of the human adventure seemed to swing irrevocably between horror and malediction. I remember, I remember because I was there with my father. I was still living with him there. We worked together. We returned to the camp together. We stayed in the same block. We slept in the same box. We shared bread and soup. Never were we so close to one another.

We talked a lot to each other, especially in the evenings, but never of death. I believed — I hoped — that I would not survive him, not even for one day. Without saying it to him, I thought I was the last of our line. With him, our past would die; with me, our future.

The moment the war ended, I believed — we all did — that anyone who survived death must bear witness. Some of us even believed that they survived in order to become witnesses. But then I knew deep down that it would be impossible to communicate the entire story. Nobody can. I personally decided to wait, to see during 10 years if I would be capable to find the proper words, the proper pace, the proper melody or maybe even the proper silence to describe the ineffable.

For in my tradition, as a Jew, I believe that whatever we receive we must share. When we endure an experience, the experience cannot stay with me alone. It must be opened, it must become an offering, it must be deepened and given and shared. And of course I am afraid that memories suppressed could come back with a fury, which is dangerous to all human beings, not only to those who directly were participants but to people everywhere, to the world, for everyone. So, therefore, those memories that are discarded, shamed, somehow they may come back in different ways — disguised, perhaps seeking another outlet.

Granted, our task is to inform. But information must be transformed into knowledge, knowledge into sensitivity and sensitivity into commitment.

How can we therefore speak, unless we believe that our words have meaning, that our words will help others to prevent my past from becoming another person's — another peoples' — future. Yes, our stories are essential — essential to memory. I believe that the witnesses, especially the survivors, have the most important role. They can simply say, in the words of the prophet, "I was there."

What is a witness if not someone who has a tale to tell and lives only with one haunting desire: to tell it. Without memory, there is no culture. Without memory, there would be no civilization, no society, no future.

After all, God is God because he remembers. "

- Eli Weisel as read in "This I believe" , NPR Apr 7,2008.

We walked into the Wong Auditorium @MIT a few minutes late. It was rainy,windy,and cold. The walk didn't help either.As we walked in, he was just getting done with his Varnam.

Sikkil Gurucharan. All I knew before this concert was that he was from the Sikkil lineage, and if his youtube videos were anything to go by, talented. As I sat there, he started with a "Kannadai" followed by composition in Bhavapriya. The Karaharapriya main peice was effortless, crisp and fast.

Not once during the Aalapanai did I feel the need to get out and get some fresh air, as is the case with people who sing Thodi and Kalyani. Yes, I judge people who sing Thodi as the main peice. Even as the sub-main. Call me a snob, I don't care. Thats how much I hate Thodi. Are you people heartless slobs? Music is all about feeling. Bhaavam. Character. Emotions.Yes, it has to do with complex math, arithmetic and geometric progressions. But in a way that embellishes the mood set by the Raaga. These progressions have to flow, it cannot be forced upon the listener.Granted these raagas are "strong" , but they fail to invoke any emotion in me. Its not the fact that they are melakarthas. Believe me. I love Shamugapriya. It has depth, it has beauty.

But somehow Thodi and Kalyani - Trite. Done to death.Beaten, used.Cloying.Its like seeing the Microsoft default desktop and crooning "Wow!! Soo pretty". Or, eating a store-bought and microwaved mac and cheese, and saying "you are the best cook in the world". Or going to every damn ice-cream shop in the world and ordering vanilla ice-cream everytime.Shut up !! It makes me want to rip my hand off just so I can hit these people. And don't even get me started on the Aadi thaalam kalyani Thyagaraja krithi. (No offense to the great composer - it's just a BANAL combo!)

Anyway, now that I have offloaded my rants, let me get on with the concert review. Where were we? Oh, yes. The Kharaharapriya main peice. It was fast-paced , and Nagai Sriram on the violin did an amazing job. Neyveli Skandasubramanian as always , was brilliant on the mridangam and the whole peice was orchestrated beautifully.

I want to take a moment and talk about a beautiful Panchalinga krithi called "Ananda Natanaprakasam" set to Kedaram. Composed by my favorite trinity Sri Muthuswamy Dikshitar, Gurucharan knocked this one out of the park . He was simply brilliant. I want to emphasise why this part was sooo fasinating to us. No offence to the yesteryear stalwarts, you guys were good, but IMHO the male singers of yore while being technically competent,weren't particularly bhava-centric. In other words, they catered more to people's brains rather than emotions. Since Yesudas and Unnikrishnan, things have changed, and I am thrilled to see that the modern day singers including Sanjay Subramaniam and Gurucharan modulate voices and notes to enhance the emotion of the raaga. We were mesmerized by his Kedaram - He made us want to run home,search this song online and learn it ASAP.

Gurucharan proved that he is an artiste of professional caliber as he presented an RTP in Reethigowlai. (My fascination for this raagam started since - you guessed it "Azhagana Ratchasiye.") A semi- elaborate raagam and a quick thaanam later, we were treated to a swara spelt of Reethigowlai, gowlai, kannadagowlai and kedaragowlai. Borrowing from the Gowlai Pancharatna, Gurucharan effectively used manodharma to string together unusual swara patterns.

Another example in point about how contemporary carnatic music has evolved is when, seeing our puzzled faces trying to figure out the raaga that followed after gowlai, he gave out the name of the raagam as soon as he was done with the swarams and Nagai sriram was exploring Kannadagowlai. It saved me a whole lot of thinking, going crazy, and searching online. :)

The concert was wrapped up with a a virutham followed by a bhajan,Javali in Paras, the behag thillana and the Mangalam.

Some nuances in concert that may not have been apparent yesterday : Gurucharan took particular care in choosing raagams (no repetitions, no janyas or similar sounding ones), composers (all major composers covered), languages (Telugu,Tamil,Hindi,Sanskrit,Kannada),types of krithis (from the Varnam,thillana,RTP,bhajans to the oft-forgotten javali, devara viruththam), thaalam (Aadi, rupakam,mishra chapu, kanda chapu and a thaalam that I haven't quite figured out yet - no complete lagu and one dhrutham). His Hindi pronounciation was perfect, with no hint of the southie accent.

Overall, I was very impressed. This guy is definitely someone to watch out for.

So here I was,at Couz's place for the long weekend,in NH.Over Chai and Namkeen, we yapped away to glory, realising that nothing much had changed over all these years.A prolific blogger and a partner-in-crime in school, we laughed at how the more the number of tests we had the next day, the more we kept away from studying.

I don't know if this is a blogger trend across the board, but I personally am at my blogging prime (only) when I have neck-wringing deadlines the next day.Today is no exception.Another long night looming, I set to work and turned to youtube for some musical entertainment.I heard Kaavaavaa after a long time. I couldn't resist this post. So here goes :

Before you read this though, I highly recommend listening to this.

I have always been fascinated by the folklore around Lord Muruga,and that was definitely a big part of the charm in this composition. But it was also Varali.The Gandharam in Varali just mesmerizes me. Pay attention to the "PMG..R" prayogam used throughout the composition. As the song progresses, also pay attention to the ucha sthayee "RGMGR" in the "Valli Deivayani" bit. Its the Ri and Ga that just completely bowl me over.

On another note,I also highly recommend "Kaana Ayiram Kan Vendum", again another composition on the peacock God, by Nithyashree.This song was on my loop list in musicindiaonline all the time. You can also see the video here. Set to Abheri, the virutham draws out the complete essence of Abheri,and the transition from the virutham to the krithi is just soo fascinating.

Thank God for Music !

Two hour update :

I've expressed variations of this before - like I miss India, or friends and family, many ,many times I've said I miss Bangalore. But at this very moment, I feel a huge, huge longing to walk the streets of Pondy Bazaar. More importantly I want to be here, listening to this. Sure, over the next two months, I am going to have my fair share of concerts to listen to in Btown. But its not the same. The fake accents, the heavy jewellery,the zari'ed pattu podavais notwithstanding, there is something magical about sitting at Nungambakkam Cultural Academy listening to a Suddha Dhanyasi, hearing a nondescript passerby critique it better than Subbudu.

Here it is - I miss Chennai !

Many , many lives ago,there was that one sea.One, big and blue.She turned , to glimpse that perfect wave and paused to reflect.She ran toward it,stopping mid way as if her soft feet would somehow mar the wave itself. Her beautiful legs barely touched the the white sands, as she waited for the wave to hit her.She stood right in the middle of it, letting it surround her.

Slowly , the wave receeded. She turned around, confused. The part of her that stood in awe of that perfect wave , was esctatic.It was nirvana to just hear noise and splash all around her. The part of her though, that wished she could ride the wave forever, was pensive.


And then there was, interestingly another part. The part that saw her as she closed her eyes and the wave hit her. The part that somehow attuned to her half-sand kissed figure, wondering why she wasn't soaked to the bones.

And there she stood.As she spread her hands wide and high, she leapt up, as if toward the sky. Her hands pierced the tip of a once-perfect wave, rippling it apart forever.

She felt human.

1.Never pass up an opportunity to get tickets online for a desi movie.Make that a capital NEVER EVER if you live in San Jose or Edison.Unless you have some sort of a weird fetish to be shoved inappropriately, and be "solicited" by a few aunties for their prospective nieces/nephews. Trust me.

2.If you have a telephonic interview,it is perfectly OK to wear your jammies and do away with your contacts.There is one caveat though - You need to brush your teeth before an interview.Don't ask me why though.I cannot for the love of God put a finger on this.If you are in the middle of a stimulating chat or phone call, and you are two minutes away from an interview, use the following algorithm. Believe me, it works.Every single time.

Step 1: Is it an East Coast or a West Coast call ? If it is an East Coast caller,switch off your computer and practice sitting in attention.Take deep breaths.

Step 2: If it is a West Coast caller, pause briefly. While a Gchat discussion about whether the Saravana Bhavan in the City or the one in Oak tree has the world's best Aapam is intellectually stimulating, you have an important mail to send out.Open your gmail, and remind your caller that the interview was scheduled at 10 30 AM EST.Chances are, if you wait long enough, you will get an email profusely apologizing the timezone mix up, followed by a murky description of when the next call could be expected.

Step 3 : If it is a hiring manager upwards of a Director, pause again.Point your mouse to the bottom right of the screen and check today's date. If it reads anything beyond November 20th, you need to make a phone call to the HR.Chances are , you might get a call/email in three days confirming that the HR forgot to check the Director's updated vacation schedule.

Step 4 : If it is a Desi calling, Do not pause.Give yourself the day off,get a manicure , visit the neighborhood candle company,indulge yourself in a meaningless chick flick, you get the idea. Also, just when your face is covered in some gooey , minty green paste, expect your phone to ring loudly. Also, expect the caller to say "Hello, yes, I calling about interviewing. What is the difference between a thread and a process?" "Uhhh.." "OK, that's fine, explain memory management" Well, you get the idea.

Step 5 : If all else fails,stop obsessing over that damn phone, and start singing loudly.

3.Do not attempt to tell resemblances between people. Especially if the "person" in question is a tiny peanut about twelve weeks old, and the photo in question is a black and white two by two ultrasound.Apparently, you cannot, and looks change, too.

4.Barbie Dolls are inappropriate gifts for a two and a half year old girl,because of the choking hazard. Even if the lady in question knows all about princesses,fairy tales, and how to make a "paratha burrito."

5.Evidently, I love getting gifts from guys,followed by a bear hug, and a loud "I love you" that anyone within a ten mile radius can hear.Especially when the gift is a chain made of wool, beads and feathers made by a seven year old, especially for me in his art class.

6.You are not crazy to make thousand and odd mile road trips all by yourself,not when you have the best times of your life almost dying on a delirious canoe ride.Or go on a thirteen hour cross country impulsive relocation trip with a friend, and enjoy it soo much, that your forget all serious license and registration quandaries.Or pull an all nighter with your buddies to watch all episodes of "Ohh La La La".Or stay in bed all day and watch chick flicks with your GFs.

7.It takes a hazardous journey in an ice storm,a cramped car,looming deadlines,bad toilets and food deficit to reiterate to yourself how much you love your music and singing.

8.Well,apparently, if you buy your thesis committee some Starbucks coffee and fudge brownies early in the morning, chances are, you will not be hung by a noose in the town center while everyone takes a free lesson in rock-throwing, with you as a target. Well, brownies, and two papers,three years,and the confidence to write a book on frustration management.

9.Well, I am not always as tongue-tied as the time I filled my blog with cartoons.Sometimes, I can actually write.

10.Oh did you know that a cylinder of LPG in India costs about 500 bucks now? Well, that and the fact that there exists a Santro Automatic makes your idea of a one-way ticket to homeland pretty fuzzy and confusing.

11.Do you ever have the kind of questions that I do ? For example, I have always wondered how people who live alone get dressed to go to parties.Especially that little black dress that you look fabulous in and have trouble zipping up.Or the time you fumble with opening cans.Or the time you need to come back to a warm house and some soup.Well apparently the need to have a great roomie is valid.

12.You know how you play Rock-Paper-Scissors and how scissors trumps paper and so on? Well,Family trumps 'em all.

No spoilers here, so please feel free to read on !


It was when I was in my fourth standard. I remember Mrs.Ramola, very well. She was my social sciences teacher, and she used to be very fond of me. She was rotund, and had glasses on.Her hair was as frizzy and wavy as mine.She used to ride a bike, and there were times when she used to pick me up from my home, and drop me at school. There were times when, she found me walking on that last stretch to school. She would drop Mrs.Latha , the science teacher, and pick me up and drive that last stretch.

I remember an awful day in fourth standard, it was my Science Quarterly Exams.I received my paper, and it had fail marks on it. I was supposed to have scored 98/100, but my marks were 36. Because I had failed to write the question number for all answers. I remember how my mom cried, ashamed that her house had "a failed" student.Where did I go wrong ? She cried. She cursed me.

I was supposed to be "bright" in school, but it was always overshadowed by my talkativeness,my laziness. There were days when I was made to go back to school in the evening because I had forgotten to note down the day's homework.I got caned many a time. I had issues with my friends, and my mom was always trying to mediate.


It was my 6Th standard, and I was scoring well in Tamil, because my tamil teacher taught my sister, who was always a topper.Until the Parent-Teacher meeting, where my mom casually mentioned all her woes to him - Her first daughter was always a topper, she concentrated, always finished her homework, came home on time,no trouble at all. She spent sleepless nights worrying about her younger one, because I was lazy, did not pay enough attention, picked up fights, rebelled, always playful, did not "sit down to do hard work" and so on.In the next exam, I barely passed Tamil. So much for a helpful mom.


I was always called "bright" by my teachers. Somehow they felt I just did not try hard enough.I remember being called a "problem child" more than once when I was a kid. My childhood was one big blur.The images of my school that stuck in my head was a mixture of standing outside the class, getting hit on the knuckles,getting into fights with guys and so on. But I remember Mrs.Ramola vividly. For some strange reason, she loved me.Once a week, every Friday, she divided the class into boys and girls, and conducted a quiz. I was the star of this session, and everyone looked up to me to win.The days when I was absent, the girls lost.It was the first time I was ever the best at something,and that meant a whole lot to me.

I also remember participating in all possible extra curricular activities, mainly as a way to get away from school. I remember how I used to fear telling my parents about the latest painting competition or elocution , or singing. Invariably after the usual discourse about how I should stop all this and focus on academics, my mom ferried me around. My sister helped with the speeches, my mom heard me sing, and taught me lyrics.And then I started winning some of these.

But academic experiences at that dreaded school only got worse.The competition was fierce,and the teachers , merciless.I did have my favorites, and I learnt from some, I despised most others. It was like I was serving time. But luckily, we moved away to a different city.

My fortunes changed drastically after I enrolled in this one school. The principal was friends with my music teacher and was a great music enthusiast.She was a strong believer in encouraging extra-curricular activities of children.She had heard me sing before,and took me in.Everything started on a positive note. I started participating in debates, quizzes, oratory, and of course music competitions. Those two years saw me on top of the competition circuit in my city. I was looked up to, and respected.

This confidence spilled over to academics, too.I had an image to live up to, and it made me want to try harder.I started going well in school, occasionally topping the class too.I managed to pass out of high school, got into a pretty good college and so on.I cannot imagine going to a better suited undergrad college than BITS.Mainly because I do not respond well to authority, and a "one size fits all" mentality of educational institutions. In that sense, I consider myself incredibly fortunate.I never attended classes, but I performed when it mattered. I cracked some courses out of shape, and never cared about the rest.I was too engrossed in my vocal performances, committees, meetings and friends to care. I had the best time of my life.

Maybe I am a rebel, sometimes without a cause , too. Maybe I am anti-establishment.But that is who I am. I need to be in an atmosphere that doesn't stifle and strangle me to death. Be it work, school or societal interactions.

Today I watched "Taare Zameen Par".I need to own this one on DVD, like RDB.Aamir says, each child is special. I say, Amen to that Brother!I really hope everyone in India watches it. Especially your "Strict Disciplinarian Uncle" and "Orderliness and Regularity Aunt."


On an entirely different note : After a hiatus of about three years, today has seen a return to "personal blogging", a style I thought I would NEVER embrace.Is this style here to stay? Wait and Watch. Happy New Year Folks !!

Monday, February 14, 2005

The empty self-gifted Hersheys pack lies to one side of the bed.All the chocolates are over,only multi-colored wrappers remain.I try not to glance in that direction, as they would remind me of the once-delicious mouth-watering goodies.Yes, I know chocolates are bad for health.The palate refuses to listen sometimes!!!!Btw.. on a different note,HAPPY VALENTINES DAY FOLKS!!!

Today :

Ate too much. Teeth pains.Gotta use the mouthwash. Watch "Sex and the City". And go sightseeing in Atlanta tommorow.Hate the red and pink riot in the stores. Too much hype.
Btw, HAPPY VALENTINES!

There was a time when I used to write. And by write, I mean blog - atleast two decent posts per month. Now this blog seems so, deserted.Firewall policies aren't exactly helping.But then , when it came to writing an article as the BWC's(BITSAA Women's council) featured member of the month, all those past posts helped. Well ! All those dreary nights spent holed up inside the lab trying to finish up presentations for Queuing theory weren't exactly futile!! Atleast it helped me ramble on and on in the blog and made its way into a newsletter!

And I turned my neck ever so slightly - to avoid glances. I looked up at the Zimmer auditorium, as I have done year after year. I found very few familiar faces. Just a small little strip of faithful old timers, as old as I was, also wondering why they were still in school.

I owed this to myself - for not being there, a year earlier. I needed this, for a lot of reasons I cannot quite comprehend.Its almost as if it is a calling, and I had to do it - Somehow I ended up coordinating the Orchestra for the show. Just as any other show, this one had its share of hitches.In the end, it doesn't matter. The show goes on. And I made some good friends in the process, and felt closer to my music as I hadn't in a long time.

My point made, and I bid adieu to the UC community the way I wanted to - with grace, and diginity. With some anonymous faces and some familiar ones - None too dear or too far present on that day. Just the way life was meant to be.

I've had my share of Deepotsavs, and salsa lessons. I' ve had my krishna carryout binges and late night assignments. I've had belly-aching laughter sessions, and soul-wringing crying sessions. And boy ! What an eventful journey it has been ! And somehow , in the process, I ended up with a few people that are very dear to me. People who will persist in my life. And with that - I think my time has come. I'll exit the stage, and someone else will take over. Because the show has to go on.

http://today.reuters.com/news/articlenews.aspx?type=oddlyEnoughNews&storyid=2006-11-06T131646Z_01_DEL8022_RTRUKOC_0_US-INDIA-SEX.xml&src=rss

Bastards!!!

Believe me, no one has a lower opinion of these species than I do, but this article just nailed why!!!

The one place where I can write anything I want to. Yes, and its mine to stay. This space will host my wedding pics, my children , and my grandchildren's pics. And everything inbetween.Peace - is the one word that would best describe my current state of mind. Oh and "Serene" and "Happy" too. Yup !! Clear skies are here to stay. Good riddance to "lowly life forms" !!!

On a different note, a very dear friend of mine got married recently. One of the last few in the singles club ( which got disbanded recently due to lack of membership!!) we have had amazing times together. An excellent blogger, and and even more amazing friend - Here is to you couz !! Love ya!! And congrats !!!

Just another random day in the lab, running simulations. And then I heard the news.


Memories... me and my sister to the circus... We used to make up funny names for relatives...He was a great, great story teller... Fond memories of detective stories "Shekar kadhai" where the entire kids pattalam would listen spell bound.... How he coined a whole invocation title song for his daily dose of detective stories....



He had a massive heart attack.....



I was about 10 years old. A rough time in the family where my mom was getting operated. He used to specially make "Nei sadham" for me and tell me stories and feed it.How we played cards - how we used to see the cards from his spectacle reflection... How he used to fall asleep reading the newspaper..



He was taken to the ICU...



"Ding dong" used to be our favorite drink. Whenever I visited him, his favorite pethi's arrival was an excuse for us to go and buy these. "Thumba poo veshti" - he loved washing is white dhothis to perfection."Speaking brinjals" and the way he used to cook them for us.



Ambulance...



Music - how he thought I was the best singer in the whole wide world. How I ve never refused to sing for him - ever. How we rehearse "mokshamu galadha" as he was on his "Salavai" sprees.How he tells us stories of him practicising music and the time he was offered a role in yesteryear cinema...how we used to discuss raagas... and concerts of yesteryears...



Relatives reaching from all over... He was 83...



How he wanted his grandkids to rub his back - with a clothes brush. How when I was a kid I used to sit on his back to relieve him of his back pain as he used to regale us with "railway" stories..... how he was sad to throw away his iron dumbells when he could barely lift a small basket....



The ceremony.. How is paati taking it ?



How he used to take us to the nearby pond to experience a whole new dimension to bathing.
... used to discuss cricket and tennis and even taught him the rules of F1. How he had to memorize our favorite teen idol for that season.. "Tendul" or "Sonu" u name it !



That framed photo that I promised to send.. Those letters from BITS I never wrote, those letters from the US I promised to write...



How he used to listen to the news on his old faithful radio - which paati knitted a sweater for.And how he joked that it got washed away in the rain once and came back to him magically.How his "bubble gum" dosai was a cult favorite in the household.How he tells the whole world that I am his pet grandkid. How he tells my friends about the day I was born , and how I am the apple of his eye... How I used to jump off his belly as a baby and squeal with laughter...




And suddenly simulations,graphs,family squabbles - everything seems utterly inconsequential. I cannot imagine coming home without sprinting the last 100 yards to hug you. A place without you seems too bleak to imagine. You will be sorely missed!!



Until about five hours ago - I had both set of grandparents to pamper me. Not anymore. Thatha - I know for a fact that you are in some place very happy, could you put in a word with God to take me there too?



- Your favorite "pet" grandkid who had the good fortune of having you in her life for 23 whole years.

Finally Cecila is trying to get a life !!! I mean, after Mike got married ,and had a kid, it was Ceclia's number this time. You go gal ! Poor Tajel though. I wish she hooked up with one of those undergrads who hit on her.Or - alternately, finds a good cause to take up her trumpets and rally in poor,single grad students. Wait, what was the cause again ? Free food ??

It had to be in Abheri.Of course. Thats like a no-contest. No other raaga can do justice to what this song wants to convey. "Yeppadi Paadinaro" - says that one can only gaze at those saints who praised Lord Shiva - overflowing with emotion in Thamizh.

எப்படி பாடினாரோ அடியார் அப்படி பாட நான்

ஆசை கொண்டேன் சிவனே

அப்பரும் சுந்தரரும் ஆளுடை பிள்ளையும்

அருள் மணி வாசகரும் பொருளுணர்ந்து உன்னையே

குருமணி சங்கரரும் அருமை தாயுமானாரும்

அருணகிரி நாதரும் அருட்ஜோதி வள்ளலும்

கருணைக்கடல் பெருகி காதலினால் உருகி

கனித்தமிழ் சொல்லினால் இனிதுனை அனுதினம்

This post is sort of like a sequel to "Romance in Religious Poetry". So the logical choice would have been to write about the song "Kanda naal mudhal". But since Kollywood took care of that, lets try something else. Now, I know people are going to be sooo thankful to me for this next one. Infact, I was contemplating putting this up at Karnatika or some such place. But in an attempt to keep this blog alive, here it is folks. Something really hard to find on the net. Right out of my now dog-eared "Paatu note", this one is really , really treasured."Naayagan - Naayaki" bhavam is what this style of poetry is called. Something that is particularly relavant to the Vishnu - worshippers. This one is just too beautiful - "Laali Aadinaal" embodies the cosmic dance at the union of two souls, usually sung at weddings.

லாலி ஆடினாள் லக்ஷ்மி லாலி ஆடினாள்

ஸ்ரி லக்ஷ்மி இன்று இங்ஙு

ஸ்ரீ ரங்ங பதியிலே ஆதிஷெஷன் அரவணையில்

மந்தகாச வதனமோடு ரங்கநாதன் - ரங்கநாச்சி

வ்ருஷபாதி திருப்பதியில் வேங்கடெசன் சகிதமாக

அபயஹஸ்த அலங்கார அலமேலு மங்ஙை இங்ஙு

ஸ்ரீ காஞ்சி தன்னிலே கருட வாகனத்திலே

வரதராஜன் சகிதமாக பெருந்தேவி தாயர் இங்ஙு

நாராயண புரத்திலே வைரமுடி மின்னிடவே

செல்ல பிள்ளை சகிதமாக மங்ஙை கல்யாணி இங்ஙு

திருவைந்தி புரத்திலே சிம்மவாகனத்திலே

தேவநாதன் சகிதமாக ஹேமாம்புஜ நாயகியும்

ஸ்ரீவில்லிபுத்துர் தன்னிலே பெரியாழ்வார் திருமகளாய்

சூடி கொடுத்த சுடர் கொடியும் ரங்ஙமன்னார் சகிதமாக

திருக்கடிகை தன்னிலே யோகநரசிம்மரோடு

அம்ருதவல்லி தாயாரும் ஆனந்தமாக இங்ஙு

PS : Thanks mom, for sitting with me patiently to correct my spelling mishtakes like my first standard, "Sangaaa... yevlo spelling mistakes .. nee exam-ke poga vendam!!"

Warning : Serious poetry ahead !

I am peaceful and happy. And contented. Perhaps in stark contrast to my current state,I came across this poem someplace. I don't know what to make of it - except it was probably written one one morbid day by someone who has more on the agenda. Doesn't quite fit into classical lyrical structure of poetry. But there is something about this poem that cries out to get people to read it. So I am reproducing with permission it here.

I am tired

I cannot cry anymore

I cannot fight anymore

I cannot run anymore

Just let me go

To where there is peace

And a little bit of happiness

I just want to be devoid of any sense

Feel,touch, laughter and tears

No more tears.. please .. no more

I don't want to add one single drop to the overflowing ocean

I don't want to run the rat race

I am tired, exhausted

Almost hollow on the inside

Empty me quick

Empty me quick

Atleast then I can turn myself inside out

And let myself get parched dry

Not one bit of moisture

Not one soft tissue

All parched dry in the desert heat

So the heat is felt no more..

No cold, no heat - no uneasy places between

Black or white

Zero or one

Along will come someone else

To fill all the absent places

Or not

For it doesn't matter

Like a collage made of flags statues

One tiny dent in the NY skyline

The big picture doesn't change

It never does.

And the world lives on

It's something about the human self

That is so convoluted

You know you are one tiny insignificant speck

But you still live on

Yearning,hoping blindly

That your life will make a difference to someone else

Knowing it never might, yet living on ....

Another day ....

I sat down to write a post - making a feeble attempt to pen down those wafting , vague ideas into something penworthy. And then Dad called.Sitting miles away from India, their only source of catching up with the latest TN elections was the internet.And as news of early leads started pouring we discussed it all - election promises , caste-based vote banks,scandals,corruption,Jaya TV and Sun TV. We discussed what makes one "Indian" and if there is even a word "American" and if so, what that really means.

And then it all came back to me - elections and political scene - 1999-2000. I was in my final year of school. Tensions, exams, and applications time. Almost oblivious to the blaring loudspeakers,gaudy posters,and larger-than-life cutouts, our lives trudged on. There were some, among us who were daughters of MPs, MLAs and party leaders.But at 16, MTV, Agarkar's posters, and paper rockets on Physics teacher's head held our fancy - competing with timed tests and mugging Sanskrit shlokas.

As the elections drew nearer, we , at home, were hoping for a change in governance.And when a key electoral alliance was forged between a national party and a local party at the state, we knew there was a chance.As days rolled by,this alliance announced their Trichy contestant.Mr.RK was an educated lawyer - a change from your average run-on-the-mill moushtached , lungi clad , sickle-in-hand politicians that Trichy had seen so far - it was a welcome change.For the first time, I saw mom and dad excited to go and vote.

Through all the political uncertainity - bargaining,haggling,deals,scams, and no-confidence votes - came February - of revision tests and exams.And the cricket matches. "To bunk school or not to bunk" seemed to be the quandary of the day, the argument being, that I could watch the match for a while, and then study through the night, since there was not much happening at school anyway.And then I heard it - Dr.S - Trichy's town president for BJP was brutally murdered. Images of yesterday's lunch session-laughter and backstreet boys talk flashed before my eyes - his daughter was my friend in school.

As we stood in the assembly that day , the school principal announced that today was a school holiday due to riots.I came home as my neighbor remarked " So ,you finally get to watch your cricket match in peace today". TV and news channels flashed the news. Some terrorist organization, rise of fundamentalism and all that .The image of my friend and her mom, and her little brother on TV can never be erased from my mind.

Saffron or Green - the story remains the same.Did she deserve an incomplete family for the rest of her life? Did we deserve to lose the bubbly, enthusiastic chatterbox of a friend?What in the world could be more important than a human life? And yes, I was terribly antagonistic.

And then "Dev" happened. IMO, the media IS really, really powerful. It was a tale of two people - a young, energetic young man and an old, seasoned police officer - from different (warring!) religious sects of India.It is a beautiful portrayal of how "politics" and "king-makers" make use of peoples emotions to incite discontent - and fuel their own vote bank.It wasn't jingoistic - no loud claims of "patriotism" and "national integration" - just a heartfelt tale of how two men deal with their own internal belief systems - with respect to their own religions. One of them loses a son to fundamentalists , but learns to view it in third person - not take it personally and hold vendetta towards the perpetrators - rather, learn to abhor the idea of people turning against each other.

So,far from it all, I now know , that accumulated hatred and prejudices don't go very far.

As R says " You know how democracy works in India? Not on the premise that " we are all one" but that "we are all different" - as diverse as we possibly can. We acknowledge this difference, and live our own lives, in our own comfort zones, stepping out when needed.That's what makes us work".

It was evening. The sky was moody, a dark bluish black. It was almost spring, but not quite. An old man walked, with a wooden stick bent like it was affected with bow-leg. The man had a straight, almost majestic gait, as he walked up a winding road. No hurry, no lethargy - just the right pace. As he ambled along, he wore a greyed cashmere shawl around his shoulder to protect him from the remanants of a chilly winter gone by.

This was the part he liked best. The winding road descended rapidly, and one false step could mean tumbling down a hundred feet. But our man, almost oblivious to the impending fall, walked on autopilot. It was almost as if he was in another place, another time, and his body just did its job. Automatically - without thinking, without feeling.

An old, worn out cycle tire,hidden by some dried leaves, a few bottles of plastic, crushed by the few automobiles that dared to traverse this stretch provided a stark contrast to the otherwise uniform conifers. Nestled in the Eastern Ghats, this small little sleepy town was one of India's best kept secrets.Our man walked along, hoping to reach home before dusk, when another world - a world of mythical ghosts and oft-heard wild animals came to life. It is only fair, he thought, that there should be a time of the day when humans retreated, and let the "other world" take over.

(the next part will be continued here)

Ask any kid in the US who the trinities of Indian religion are, and you get a prompt reply "Brayma,Veeshnew,Sheewa"(Apparently they are taught this in high school). Religion, however, changed faces as civilization progressed, and various deities and sub-deites thus emerged.Some of these, are highly localized. For example, down south - one can see prevalance of these three deities - Lord Ayyapa, Lord Muruga and the "Amman" ( as various forms). Lord Hanuman was the deity of choice for the Haryanvis and Rajasthanis.Marathi's swear by ( no pun intended) Lord Vinayak. And the Bengalis have a thing for Goddess Kali.And then of course , are countless "Kaval Deivams" and "Kula Deivams".

A deep-throated Yesudas singing "Harivarasanam" brings back memories of hoards and hoards of Ayyappan tourists in Srirangam every December, on the way to Sabarimala. This deity is supposed to be elder to Muruga and Vinakaya - an offspring of Mohini (who is Lord Vishnu , whose sister Goddess Parvati is Lord Shiva's wife....So from these equations...Wow!!) and Lord Shiva - basically Hari and haran in one. So anyway,Here is the verse.Very evocative lyrics - very powerful singing.

Harivarasanam Viswamohanam

Haridadhiswaram Aaradhyapadhukam

Arivimardhanam Nithyanarthanam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Saranakirtanam Bakhtamanasam

Bharanalolupam Narthanalasam

Arunabhasuram Bhoothanayakam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Pranayasathyakam Praananayakam

Pranathakalpakam Suprabhanjitham

Pranavamanidram Keerthanapriyam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Thuragavahanam Sundarananam

Varagadhayudham Vedavavarnitham

Gurukrupakaram Keerthanapriyam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Tribuvanarchitam Devathathmakam

Trinayanam Prabhum Divyadeshikam

Tridashapoojitham Chinthithapradam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Bhavabhayapaham Bhavukavaham

Bhuvanamohanam Bhoothibhooshanam

Dhavalavahanam Divyavaranam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Kalamrudusmitham Sundarananam

Kalabhakomalam Gathramohanam

Kalabhakesari Vajivahanam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Srithajanapriyam Chinthithapradam

Sruthivibhushanam Sadhujeevanam

Sruthimanoharam Geethalalasam

Hariharatmajam Devamashreye

Things I miss about the only place I can ever call "Home" :

1. The fact that I always belonged. I was loved and accepted for who I was, not on the basis of what people thought were right or wrong.

2. I never carefully worded what I wanted to say, and how I would come accross to people. People always understood where I came from.

3. I could hug my friends any time I wanted, without thinking if it was a girl/boy , junior/senior..

4. I could swear in all possible languages freely, without my friends judging me/getting scandalized..

5. Going out of the way, overboard, crazy - and could still be normal. .

6. MB - where I could change in a room full of wingees, and not care..

7. I could combined-crash with friends, without arousing anyone's lesbian suspicions..

8. I could hitch a ride , and sit in the front bar of the guys cycles - no one would think I was flirting..

9. "Mayira pochu" and "Yetha sollu" were philosophies that were loved and trusted through times..

10. Birthdays were considered special occasions - filled with surprises and cakes , and a lot of good vibes around..

Ah ! Thank God for the good times !!!

Oh yeah ! It was another sleepy day, when you curse day light savings to get used to an hour less sleep. As I slowly trudged my way to work , I heard the bus driver talk about detours because of the parade. The parade, is one of Cincinnati's oldest traditions, and today was the 87th such.

Sponsored by Findlay market, on Elder and Race streets,the parade started on over-the-Rhine, and ended at Broadway(This route is the heart of downtown Cincinnati). It marks the start of spring, and the baseball season. The whole town was painted Red today, with people sporting red hair, red makeup, and even red animals to mark the occasion.

The parade itself , was one jolly event , and people braved the chills to see school bands, Reds fans, and various commercial companies in action, as each one tried to outdo the other's Reds fanaticsm.Meijer's first truck, old style TV and radio antennas,yatches, a bus full of cute 5 -year olds who could barely say "Go reds", a makeshift mobile market and people dressed as pea pods and beans, an Elvis impersonator, a 1952 orginal bobcat - ah! The joys of living in a small, midwestern town !!!

The first game of the season, Cincinnati Reds vs Chicago Cubs, had an added attraction today - President Bush throwing in the ceremonial first pitch. The breakroom of my office on the 17th floor, has a spectacular view of the ballpark, and the river. The big screen would supplement the live action, just in case. Opening day is almost a local holiday in Cincinnati.

Do you want a taste of the American corporate work ethic ? The game was supposed to start at 2 15. And we had a meeting from 2 to 3 today.As we sat in our conference rooms on the 19th floor, I struggled to stop this urge to crane my neck out of the window to see the first pitch.Our meeting went on, oblivious to the fact that there was this country's president , 100 yards away,visible to us, if we would only see!!! Wow!

(An "I-feel-so-grown-up" type comment would be a perfect end to this tale,but I am too swamped ;) !!)