Where are social services when you need 'em?

So, my husband and I were in India the last couple of weeks. It was a wonderful trip! We met many of our dear, loved ones – both family and friends.  In fact, I am still homesick. Anyways, on our return, as we boarded the aircraft with a heavy heart and memories of an extraordinary visit, Lady Luck nudged and said, “All good things must come to an end.”

Our 14-hour flight to NYC was one from hell. There were six infants, between the ages of six months to twelve months, in the row in front of us. The babies decided to put up an unfettered, non-stop “crying-show” for all aboard. To be fair, three of the kids cried intermittently, which was understandable - given their age and the pressure on their ears and limited movement etc. etc.  But the other three children, who were triplets,  were uninhibited tear-exhibitionists. They wailed incessantly for fourteen hours. I am not kidding! I mean, there was nothing stopping them! I wanted to pull a Van Gogh and chop off my ears. The piercing noise still awakens me at night. I saw couple of my in-flight neighbors ask for headache-relievers (Tylenol) and earplugs. So much so that one of the stewardesses, towards the end, lost her patience and asked if the children were just unhappy by nature. Clearly, I wasn’t overreacting.

Here comes the interesting part: Three adults accompanied the three infants - the mother and the maternal grandparents. These immature and selfish so called adults a.k.a. parents with zero parenting skills did nothing throughout. They shamelessly slept through the nightmare while the rest of the passengers writhe in misery for more than half a day. An occasional, nonchalant “What’s wrong with them?” from the mother sounded very pretentious! Did I mention that the imbeciles were prompt about acquiring and finishing their “Asian vegetarian meals” without fail? I mean, most of us could barely breathe on the flight, but this family managed to stuff themselves with three meals, around all the howling, while their kids starved.

My husband, who is otherwise a very patient man, couldn’t resist the urge to give the family a piece of his mind. Could you blame him? I was tempted too! But thankfully, just as he stood up, the stewardess intervened. The parsimonious three idiots made the triplets share their pacifier. Are you kidding me? The minute they pulled the pacifier out of one kid’s mouth, the deprived one would have a meltdown. On seeing the bawling child, the other two kids would put up an unstoppable performance. These parents/grandparents barely got up to walk the kids. Or tried calming them. Or feeding them on time. They pretty much held the triplets hostage between those four middle seats and shared food bottles. The mother and the grandmother slept like maniacs as if they were in a spa getting a chocolate massage while the infants looked hungry and exhausted.

I know; it’s too much to ask for adults-only flight, but can the airlines at least create sections on the plane and sound proof areas with irresponsible parents?! I believe the child isn’t at fault! What does an infant know about socially appropriate conduct and understanding responsibilities? They are dependant! But parents need to concede that becoming a parent and learning parenting skills are two different dynamics. Any unprepared person can become a parent but very few can take the role seriously to think beyond themselves and embrace the role of good parenting.

C’mon, haven’t you met those people who never say NO to their children? Their kid could be wiping their dirty hands on your sofa or throwing things around your house, but not a word. My youngest niece is 18 months old. My husband and I recently met her in Bombay. My mother-in-law has gorgeous Swarovski crystal pieces and Lladro figurines on display, but this kid doesn’t touch a thing. I am not suggesting that the little one is God’s gift to mankind just because she’s my niece.  All I am saying is that my sister-in-law and brother-in-law take the time out of their lives to teach and preach her. They make an effort to guide her because good parenting requires spending time and teaching your children the right things versus just winging it at other people’s expense! And as a bystander, sometimes all you need to see is effort.

 

More until next time,

Xoxo

Copyright © 02. 17.2010

 

"The Hebrew word for parents is horim, and it comes from the same root as moreh, teacher. The parent is, and remains, the first and most important teacher that the child will have"
-- Rabbi Kassel Abelson

Steve Jobs (CEO of Apple Inc.) does it again!

If you watched the news earlier today, you must have heard that Apple Inc. unveiled its anticipated, rumored, new tablet device - iPad Tablet. You know, just when I thought Apple couldn't revolutionize technology any further, Steve Jobs and his posse proved me wrong! Boy, am I glad they manage to tickle my writer-fingers every single time! They create products that redefine “handsomeness” and make Jane Austen’s heroes look hideous!

As you can probably tell, I am a proud member of the Apple cult. I humbly confess that I ONLY use Apple products – right from music, to phone, to my laptops(s). If they made soap or soup, I would use them too! So much so, I can spend my free time browsing through their different stores in NYC and soaking in the ridiculous awesomeness of creativity. In fact, on several occasions, I have asked the Apple customer service folks if I could work for their company. And they seemed unfettered. I guess, the other cult members must have asked the same poignant question. I think blue, the T-shirt color worn by most Apple customer service reps, wouldn’t look too shabby on me. I would totally appreciate wearing their chic, placid, ingenious, and nirvanesque uniform!

Okay. Now that you have some background information on my Apple-loyalty (devotion/ insanity), back to the iPad. Of course, as someone who is an Apple aficionado, I am ecstatic about the iPad. I mean, what’s not to like? For instance, if you enjoy hamburgers and then someone tells you that there is a Big Mac available with triple the amount of cheese, meat, onions, and tomatoes compared to the regular burger, what are you going to say? Do I hear a “Hell yeah, dude!” See, the iPad is like the Big Mac of iPhone with its 9.7-inch IPS screen versus 3.5 inches of the iPhone. The iPad weighs 1.5 lbs and it is half an inch thick. Ooh, the battery life is 10 hours, or a month on standby. It comes with 16, 32 or 64 gigabytes of flash memory storage. I mean, can technology get sleeker than this? Best of all, it’s not that expensive! Prices start at $499, $599 and $699 - depending on the storage size.

So, do I see myself purchasing an iPad in the near future? Who knows! Never say never! Though if I decide to partake in the frivolousness, I will have to justify, to my conscience, why my MacBook and MacBook Air weren’t inspirational enough for the poor writer in me.

Anyways, despite my positive reaction to another phenomenal Apple product, I am bothered by one thing: Who came up with the unimaginative name, “iPad”? Seriously, as one of the critics said, “iPad sounds like a feminine product!” I couldn’t agree more! Why do I feel some dude came up with it? What do you all think? 

More until next time,

Xoxo

Copyright © 01.27.2010

 

“Innovation distinguishes between a leader and a follower” - Steve Jobs

What are you going to be doing?

Welcome to the New Year and a new decade! Hope you all had a good holiday season. You might feel that I am a little late in wishing everybody but then think again. See, until the first week of January, people aren’t really receptive to the outer world. Can you blame them? With the general festivities, innumerable parties, vacations, relaxed season, and pumpkin lattes over, the first week of January feels like a tight slap across the face. So, I decided to post my thoughts, along with my warm wishes, today.

Can you believe we have entered a new decade? That’s huge! Have you thought or made plans for the next ten years? In case you are judging me and thinking, “No one does that, dude,” you’d be surprised at how wrong you are. For people in their twenties, this is the decade (There are always exceptions!) to consider making personal commitments. Not to say one couldn’t find a partner at fifty, but the options and opportunities get limited in today’s world. Will you be able to last at parties and bars past midnight once you are in your thirties, forties, and fifties? In fact, will you have the time to make as many after-work social commitments on weekday evenings? If not, then where else will you meet people? Your coworkers? Nah! By the time you cross the glorious twenty-bridge, your colleagues are the people you see the most. Unless you are a masochist, you wouldn’t want to date someone you spend fourteen hours of your day cooped up inside an office space. If you have a television show, then sky is your limit. After all, Rakhi Sawant organized a “swayamvar” to meet the caring and doting guy she had always dreamt of. She is apparently still engaged to Toronto-businessman, Elesh Parujanwala.

For thirty plus folks, this decade is crucial career-wise. It is the “Make it” or “Break it” time. My generation has been cursed with pre-mature aging – an aspect of globalization no one talks about. We already have school, car, house and million other loans – an overwhelming feeling our parents didn’t have to deal with until they hit fifty. It’s not a surprise most of us hit our mid-life crisis in our early thirties itself. Ironically, my generation is such a slave to work; even our pre-mature crises revolve around our careers. Gone are the days where men bought themselves a Porsche and a blond as an accessory or women obsessed about their altering looks or widening waistline. Mid-life crisis is about revelations for us - the fear of waking up and realizing that you had a passion, but you didn’t act on it when you had the chance. How do you deal with that feeling of not knowing whether or not something would have worked?

I will write more about my personal story and mid-life crisis another time, I promise. But until then, think about what you want to do with the rest of your life because now is the time.


More until next time,
Xoxo

Copyright © 01.13.2010


"A man who does not think for himself does not think at all" – Oscar Wilde

Santa Does Exist - Book Launch in December

So, you haven’t heard from me in a while. No philosophical opinions have hit your inboxes in the past few weeks. I have had few people ask me the reason for my delayed blog posts. Nope, it’s not end-of-year exhaustion. If anything, I am an Energizer Bunny in December. :-) This month has been rather busy at work and holiday parties have taken over my life. I am not complaining about the festivities because more human contact translates to even more opinions and blog ideas, so watch out in January.:-)

Every thing seems magical in the holiday season – the decorations, carols, promises, and even the air. So much so that, every year around this time, I get hooked on to hot chocolate with marshmallows. For those of you who know me, I can’t stand hot chocolate otherwise. I might not care much for the freezing temperatures in NYC or trudging through tainted snow, but there is no other place I’d rather be around the holidays. Even wading through hoards of tourists near the Empire State Building (I work in that area) doesn’t bother me. I think, humans smile a lot more in December.

Anyway, for the first time, I wish I were in Bangalore this holiday season. Maybe because my Christmas wish has come true. See, I have always desired, for my poetic contributions, to find a home in India as well. And it’s finally happening. This coming Sunday, December 20, 2009, marks the launch of one of my poetry anthologies. The book titled, “I, Me, Myself,” featuring the work of 20 poets (including humbly yours), will be launched at Reliance Time Out, Cunningham Road, between 3.00 p.m. - 5.00 p.m. in Bangalore. On the same evening, the publishers of the anthology are planning to organize a poetry reading session at the Bangalore Club from 6.00 p.m. onwards.

So, if you are in the neighborhood and in the mood to share some love, please grace the launch with your presence. I have pasted the invite. I am honored that my high school peeps, in Bangalore, have promised to represent me. The saying is true: Old friendship goes a long way.

Meanwhile, for those of you believers in hope, Recovering The Self: A Journal of Hope and Healing (a quarterly journal which explores the themes of recovery and healing through poetry, memoir, essays, fiction, humor, media reviews and psycho-education, Vol. II, No.1, Paperback) is out. One of my poems titled, “Convalescence,” features in this issue.


Have a wonderful weekend everyone! Enjoy the holidays and stay safe!

More until next time,
Xoxo

Copyright © 12.18.09


“Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular” - Aristotle

Should mum be the word?

With age, hopefully, we all mature. So do our convictions. As I grow older, I feel more and more cemented in my belief system. I am a passionate woman with opinions and do not shy away from expressing them.

Years ago, my husband said to me, “When people ask for your honest opinion, they don’t really expect you to be candid with them.” I was baffled by the human hypocrisy. Why ask for the truth when you don’t have the appetite for it? Why begin a sentence with “I want your frank opinion,” when basically what you want to hear is an echo of your own ideologies. Is it for the purposes of validation? To me, that’s a sign of immaturity.

Should I concede that not everyone in the world sees the world as black and white? Majority of the adult population chooses to experience the world as shades of grey. In a nutshell, being a straight shooter might not always be the best bet. Hmmm. Is that right? Then the option, if you aren’t into unnecessary lying, is to seal your lips. If truth isn’t allowed to flow out from the mouth, lies shouldn’t be permitted either. Mum should be the word.

But how feasible is the mum option? The world is a strange place. People like to dig out certain information out of you. Notice how often religion, politics, and social issues form the topic of discussion at parties. I avoid them like the plague (In case you haven’t figured it out, I am a passionate, artistic woman with strong opinions.) because I don't want to lie about what I feel. And my viewpoints might be too shocking and uninhibited for some. I demonstrate my point with a few examples:

Religion: I like to believe that there is an almighty. The concept of the omnipresent makes me feel safe and secure. I diligently celebrate most Hindu festivals with a lot of enthusiasm, unless it’s one of the sexist traditions which don’t fall under my belief system. I, often, break my karva chauth fast with butter chicken and hot naan. There is something magical about the tomato-and-cream gravy hitting the empty stomach. By the way, I equally relish chicken biryani over Eid and roasted chicken for Christmas. Am I a fundamentalist? A food fundamentalist for sure. I prefer Pakistani samosas to the Indian ones because I don’t appreciate masala in my food. The Paki samosa is surprisingly milder on the system. And so is their biryani. I don’t eat or cook beef. But I don’t judge or condemn folks who eat it.

Social issues: I believe everyone has the right to freedom. People should be allowed to spend their lives with whomever they choose. So yup, I am all for gay rights and inter-cultural marriages. Whatever keeps you in a happy, stable relationship. I have seen some revolting heterosexual marriages, which make me wonder why the two people are together – annihilating each other with their toxic words.

I take offense with patriarchal setups and gender inequalities. Don’t tell me I can’t do something just because I am a woman. Neither am I feeble nor am I dependent, so you have to come up with something better than that. Know your duties as a human being because that’s what counts.

Politics: Do I even need to clarify? I am thrilled a young man is the president of America today. I adore Michelle Obama – real and grounded. Similarly, I wish Rahul Gandhi or Priyanka Gandhi or one of the other younger politicians would come to power in India after Manmohan Singh’s term. It’s time we got some fresh blood and untainted ideas to govern the country. I don’t believe in wars and hate crimes.

My opinions – as you can see – certainly do not straddle the fence of grey. I definitely tilt completely onto one side of the issue. These are my beliefs, and I am proud to stand by them. I also know that expressing them in strong terms – as I am prone to do – does have the effect of riling people on the other side of the debate. Hence, I am always intrigued by the number of personal emails I receive, as positive comments, after people read my blogs or other published pieces. For instance, after reading my newly published article in India Currents (Titled, "An Unchaste Brown"), a friend said, "As always, you write from your heart. Good piece."

I wonder if truth is underrated.

More until next time

xoxo

Copyright © 11.29.09

“What is uttered from the heart alone, Will win the hearts of others to your own.” - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Book Launch - I wish I were in Toronto

I have said to a few of my friends that I loathe November 2009 with a passion. Well, I have my reasons and let’s not get into them right now. Anyways, I am glad the awful month is coming to an end. Tomorrow marks the beginning of the last week of the eleventh month of the year. And guess what happens tomorrow?

Earlier this year, one of my stories got selected in an anthology titled, “Her Mother’s Ashes 3.” The publisher is an exciting, reputable Canadian company called TSAR Publications. I am not masking the publishing house’s name with fat layers of positive adjectives just because I have a book coming out with them. When I mentioned TSAR Publications to one of my friends, who is an eminent Canadian author, she hurled a river of good things about the publishing house. So, anyways, the TSAR Fall Book Launch is scheduled for November 23, 2009 at the Gladstone Hotel, Toronto, TSAR Publications. If you are in the area, please check it out. If the books catch your fancy, don’t be shy to pick up a copy.

As far as “Her Mother’s Ashes 3” goes, this collection brings together more first-rate stories by South Asian women that—whether set in their home countries or those of their adoption—explore with profound and sensitive insight the inner tenor of women’s lives caught between places, cultures, and generations.

FICTION/ANTHOLOGY

ISBN: 9781894770545

Paper $24.95; 200 pages

Reviews of the previous volume:

". . . an intense, pleasurable, and instructive experience, making me reflect on the ideas of home, homelessness, fragmented cultures, and cultures in conflict and dialogue."
—Books in Canada



"Interesting and evocative fiction that provides illuminating
—and often troubling—insights into the North American life 
of the South Asians."
—World Literature Today

More until next time

xoxo

Copyright © 11.22.09

"A bad book is as much of a labor to write as a good one; it comes as sincerely from the author's soul" - Aldous Huxley

Do you ever get over it?

Someone very dear to me said, "Unless you go through it (meaning, face a personal loss), you can't fathom the pain." I think I know what they mean. To me, the impact of loss is directly proportional to your equation with the person who has passed away.

Every adage indicates that time is the best healer. That people forget their worst nightmare and painful experiences, as time passes. Life takes over and fills dark holes with healing water. But what if these adages are a myth? What if that certain relationship is irreplacble?

Close your eyes for a moment and think of that one place where you can still feel like a child irrespective of your age. The one house where the stress of adulthood doesn't touch your sleep. The one place where sweet corn chicken soup is served on a tray because you sneezed. What image did you conjure up? Wasn't it your parents' place?

Very recently, my family witnessed a personal loss. I was in California this past weekend to express my condolences and cherish the relationships I still have. Despite all the love, warmth, smiles, and hospitality, I saw unhealed hearts. I constantly felt the presence of the person whose demise we all mourned. The passing away of this one person has taken a toll on the people I care about. I sense anguish in every conversation I have with my mother. I am not sure I will get over it ever either.

The journey from coast to coast got me thinking. Every loss is difficult and emotionally draining; the degree of pain might differ. But is one loss more draining than the other? I have heard friends say that if something happened to their spouse or children, they would die. I don't question their sentiments. I am not saying any loss is easy to deal with, but if someone loses a child, they can have another one. If someone loses their spouse, they could eventually meet someone else. Again, no one can take the place of the one who has moved on, but life goes on and people find emotional anchors. But how do you replace a parent? That one relationship where you feel like an orphan just thinking about the loss. The pain arising from any loss is ruthless, but one that takes away your parent is unbearable.

 

More until next time.

Xoxo

 

Copyright © 11.14.2009

 

When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.  ~Author Unknown