Gratitude?

So Uttagirl called me up one day and said, “mom can I have a chain with a pendant that says gratitude in Sanskrit so I can remind myself to be grateful.”

I said “consider it done”. So she went on to send me a picture – a thin chain with a rectangular pendant and the words inscribed on it. Her preference was either white gold or silver. I looked up the word for gratitude in Sanskrit online and found there were two mentioned – Kritagnya and Kritagnyata. So I turned to a Sanskrit scholar friend, my sister and a few other folks and decided on the latter. I was all set to give the order to have it made, when my husband astutely said “you know the lettering should be in Sanskrit not English”. “Huhn?”, I muttered incredulously, not letting on that I had actually only intended for it be engraved in English lettering. My daughter who got wind of this conversation that happened in Toronto, way out in the UK, said “Ya mom, I cannot believe you had planned to have it engraved in English letters.” Now they were all mind-readers!

Anyway, the thing did not get ordered or made till my recent trip to India. Knowing Utta’s particular aesthetic sense, my sister Suja did not have the nerve to take on this mission and offered to go with me to the store when I was in Chennai. 10 days before my departure I still had this project weighing on my head. We finally made time to go to a known jeweller who named an outrageous price. He suggested also that the letters should not be engraved but should appear as letters and insisted also that we send him a printout of the word so the jeweller does not make any mistake in the spelling. This was all a bit much. We had not even asked him for the design ideas he was selling us on. So as not to displease him, we bought the chain from him but not trusting him to execute our chosen design, headed over to a silversmith located in tiny alley beside the Kapali temple lined with stores peddling temple jewellery that dancers wear. We found jewellers intently striking pieces of metal on an anvil and molding them on a small flame in that stuffy hole that passed off as their work space. We showed the owner the design and handed him the lettering. He said no problem, come back and pick it up next week and quoted us a fraction of the cost. It was as easy as that! The husband picked it up on the appointed day and we took a picture of it and sent it to Utta.

When I next checked my phone I found a message from the T girl which I then excitedly proceeded to open and read. One word said it all "Yikes". "What's wrong" I countered. "It’s all big and shiny. I was visioning something more delicate. That looks like a gang chain." I was rolling on the floor laughing. I said "Utta, what am I going to do with you?!" She said "Nada. Lol." I then pointed out "Gratitude?" She said "Yeah...its silver so I don't feel so bad if I have to change it." Did not sound like gratitude to me. Lol. But I grudgingly do have to agree with her!

Why "Inside Out" is all the rage!

Inside out is a delightful comedy that will bring out the kid in every adult. It is a tale about how human emotions, joy, sadness, disgust, anger and fear influence how reasonable humans act. The colour coded embodiment of these emotions and the voices that are lent to them are all so apt and heart-warming that we found ourselves giggling joyfully and headily throughout the movie. A simple story about a young girl Riley’s reaction to her move to San Francisco from Minnesota, it delves into the human condition in literal and profound ways. If you ever wondered what flight of imagination, train of thought, long term memory, forgotten memories and abstract thought look like, then you will be treated to some pretty spectacular representations of these.

Peter Docter, Pixar’s ultimate talent is said to have based the storyline on his own daughter and to have consulted extensively with psychologists during its creation. A Pixar veteran, Toy Story's Buzz Lightyear character is partly based on him and he has been nominated for several Oscars already. This latest creation, a sure bet at the Oscars for its depth, imagination and visual appeal, is said to have been inspired by Japanese Anime, the fore-runner in all animation today.

The voice talent makes the film! Amy Poehler is irrepressible as joy and Mindy Kaling brings attitude as disgust. However, my hands-down favourites were Lewis Black as anger, erupting at the most inopportune moments to make poor decisions, and Phyllis Smith as sadness, wise but dragging herself and everyone down with her infectious pessimism.

The plot thickens as joy and sadness leave Riley’s emotional console on an accidental adventure to have anger, fear and disgust kick into high gear and rule Riley’s life. As a result of this mishap, the former, in their bid to return, encounter long term memory and the minions that are destroying fading memories, take a near catastrophic walk on the memory tunnel, enter abstract thought, have an accident on the train of thought and finally end up in forgotten thoughts where with the help of Riley’s fantasy friend, joy takes a flight of imagination to join sadness who, floating on a cloud, returns them both to Riley’s emotional command centre, with a little help from anger and disgust. As this is happening in the background, Riley’s parallel actions have included quitting hockey and running away from home to return to Minnesota. However, when joy and sadness return to the command centre, Riley gets off the bus heading to Minnesota to return home to her parents, to give her life in San Fran another shot, to get on a new hockey team and to make new friends at school! Watch it and you will know what I mean!

Let us call it a spade – Lessons for work and life from gardening

If any of you are deluded into believing I am gardener, let me dispel that notion right now. I am a lucky person who came upon a nice piece of land which was once a very nice garden. However, I received it quite like a monkey given a garland, with utter disregard for its beauty and value, ignorant and unschooled to take on the responsibility. I knew not the difference between annuals and perennials let alone the subtleties of nurturing and cherishing a garden. I did not get the bother. Why would people slavishly devote so much time to a pastime which meant naught, since everything disappeared in the winter anyway and you had to start all over every spring? I just did not comprehend why anyone would invest so much time,money and effort especially in annuals which were then replanted year after year. Or the hours of backbreaking toil, weeding, when even the most stubborn among them, disappeared in the winter? The race against those weeds is often a losing expedition, since they grow a couple of inches everyday during our short summers?

Now, I finally get it. And what that means is that I get the rhythms of this country with its four seasons, the cadence with which life alters and the importance for us of aligning with these rhythms to enjoy life and nurture one’s soul here. It’s almost a study in Eckhart Tolle. With the garden you have to be in the “now”. But the personal growth that has brought on this realisation, has been a painful one full of bloopers.

When we bought our house, it came with a landscaped garden which had a collection of wonderful plants well suited to and aligned with the contours of the land, the soil quality and the sun exposure in different parts of our front and back yards. Sadly, I had taken a scant interest in plants until then and knew not the difference between the good ones and weeds. I realised quickly that I had to work hard to keep it in its pristine form. It was not long before I saw the land as an adversary which had set out to embarrass me with overgrown weeds. I struggled with feelings of resentment for all the work I had brought upon myself. Finally I decided I needed some help. So I hired a gardener to clean the garden of weeds and he simply went over it all with a rototiller. He was not going to spend the hours that I was not willing to spend on it. He took my objective quite literally and just wiped out all plants, good and bad. I still remember it as the Friday massacre. I had a frantic phone call from my mom who was visiting from India. Heart pounding, I could hear her wail at the other end of the phone, “who are these guys and why are they killing all your lovely plants”. I rushed home but not on time to witness the carnage. By the time I arrived, it was all over, swept clean and stark, no sign of the beauty and grace that had thrived amidst those weeds.

A garden is a doozy. It takes, muscle, will, intelligence and lots of knowledge to take on plants. You are like a teacher managing a class of juveniles. You can bring them in line and get them to behave and realise their potential. But it takes care, individual attention, patience, time, knowledge, intelligence and lots of good intentions. A quiet mind and patience are the meditative elements that allow one to persist despite the critters that sting you, the dirt that gets into your hands, when gloves just will not do it, and when the sweat pours down the body through back breaking work. Like everything else it is about building a sound relationship and gaining intimate knowledge of your ally, the land, and adversaries, those stubborn weeds. Just two years ago I discovered the spade. Wow what a difference it makes to clearing and weeding. I had been struggling with lesser tools. So using the right tools is key to taking on this challenge.

Hidden in every garden are some wonderful life lessons. There is an awareness of the cycle of life as beauty re-emerges every spring and the summer when the plants are in full bloom. And then there is an appreciation of the wonderful worker bees of nature, the pollinators going about their duties as karma yogis and the birds that bring it all alive with unselfconscious song.
Work and life lessons I have gained:

I must,
Use the right tools to take on any challenge
Immerse myself in knowledge
Understand my allies and manage them wisely
Understand my adversaries even better
Ignore the gross and understand the subtleties
Give myself up to the “now”
Know that change is inevitable and embrace it
Trust that renewal is always around the corner
Engage in hard work which pays off in spades
Realise that when it all seems bleak and futile there will always be a bloom bringing on hope and renewal

Tongue in cheek 2 - Mom needs knee surgery

My mom needs knee surgery. She has the forbearance of Job and never once complains about the constant pain she is in. This is a problem, because as we all know, the squeaky wheel gets the oil. Her pain must have escalated beyond a certain level of tolerance because she is now talking about getting knee surgery. No laughing matter and a bit concerning given we want no complications. However, as I am learning to see humour in all situations, I thought I would relay the conversations we have had but with the greatest of love for Amma.

So she went to doctor number #1. He took one look at her x-rays and said he would give her a package deal and that she was making the right decision coming to him as he was an expert in these surgeries having studied abroad. But "what about my bone deficiency due to Paget's" my mother spluttered? To which he nodded reassuringly - "don't worry it will be fine". But would it? Given he got to pocket a cool couple of lakhs? We needed a second opinion and went to the next one who said someone by the name of the first doctor has consulted him about my mom's chart and also assisted him in surgeries. Really? So this was our man! He was slightly more pricey - but then he seemed the doctor of doctors - so maybe he was the one?! He also quoted a package deal, smiled reassuringly and did a great sales job. Amma swore he would be her surgeon. Except my sister decided to do some sleuthing and found out our first doctor knew nothing of this man and had never consulted him!

The plot having thickened thus, Amma was a bit disenchanted. So she called her friend and neighbour who has just come out of surgery. I then called Amma to find out the final verdict. She sounded triumphant and said "Globus it is! The patient gets delivered excellent food in the room, the guests can eat in the five star cafeteria downstairs, the room comes nicely fitted with all amenities and the whole atmosphere is like somewhere abroad". "But Amma, what about the doctor?" I queried. To which she said "Oh he is a North Indian with impressive degrees. I am sure he will be fine" (Are we trusting North Indian doctors more now?)Ever the practical one, Amma had decided that she just needed to choose based on the things she could control. She definitely had a point. Knee surgeries are where the money's at. Who can tell competence through all that sales talk?! What more could I say?

Tongue in cheek series 1 - My close encounter with a bodycam"

As I am learning to lighten up here is the first in my tongue in cheek series

Ok so I have lead feet. I may have pressed a little hard on the brake preventing the car from rolling to a complete stop. But only just about. I was coming off the ramp still mumbling profanities at the man who had cut me off as I had attempted to cross over two lanes to the exit ramp, which I then barely made short of a collision with another unsuspecting vehicle,… when it happened!

Back up to how the day had begun. Given the late movie that I had indulged in the previous night, I had not rolled out of bed in great form. To add to that, no yoga and no coffee yet. Showered, but bleary eyed I was not about to impress anyone with my sunny personality, let alone the cop who came out of nowhere, smacking his lips at being able to meet his day's quota so easily. What a disaster!

I don’t trust the men in blue. They are always up to something. Lurking around on side streets with their radar guns, looking through binoculars or worse yet, as in this case, stopping you smack in the middle of your miserable morning with a body-cam strapped to them. I must say this man was easy on the eyes, young, strapping and nicely tanned with strong arms befitting a person hired to maintain law and order with those errant wild things that pass off as young men these days. But me? And on the worst of days and also on camera? I nearly reached for an object to throw at him for not picking a more convenient time, when in a deep voice he said “Mam I have a video camera on me and you engaged in a traffic infraction.” Duh, what? My dull brain took a moment to register as I tried to lip read to help my brain process. “Yes mam, see that stop sign there, well you failed to come to a complete halt.” I wanted to stomp my feet, through a tantrum and scream “I am not dressed to be caught on camera you dumbass”, when I restrained myself and sweetly smiling for the camera, said through gritted teeth “I have driven this route for 15 years and have never failed to stop..”

He pointed to his camera , daring me to say another word, and asked for my identification papers. I reached for my purse and gave him my license and insurance, still saccharine sweet to be caught on camera doing the right thing! Who knew I may be hailed the poster woman for how to behave when caught on police body-cam - the fully cooperative citizen with utter regard for the men in blue. I was drifting into a fantasy where I saw officers huddling over and picking mine out as the winning-est recording following this body cam blitz, to justify their intrusive exercise with the naysayers, and the new Chief of Police holding a special recognition ceremony for me for my model behaviour..when a nicely muscled hand gave me back my papers rudely snapping me out of my reverie. “$110? What? This is a highway robbery”, I muttered still cloyingly sweet curbing all instincts to gun down the road in defiance. Body-cams be damned. They had taken away from me the pleasure of getting really mouthy and obnoxious with cops. What will they do next to curb my freedom of expression?!

Sunday reflection 16 - The Smug Non Resident Indian

Recently, I had an epiphany about my life as a first generation Indian in North America. This has been further reinforced in gatherings I have attended. We believe we have the best of all worlds. We imitate the superficial elements of life as lived in India. With food, temples and Indian finery ubiquitous in cities like Toronto and even in smaller locales, we don’t feel the need for India any more. We have all the trappings of an upper class life right here – the supermarkets with every possible Indian food item, restaurants, grand banquets and shaadis, cable and online access to Indian TV, the local bangra events, Bollywood/Kollywood extravaganzas, classical music, ghazal and dance concerts, bharatmatrimony, street food fairs, chaat experiences, langar at gurudwara, puliyodarai at temples and movie theatres which participate in global releases of Bollywood blockbusters. And then to assuage our guilt we raise money for causes in India. We also make that occasional trip to experience Jaipur, Agra, Kerala or to take in a yoga retreat and come back with more of the latest stuff, which we may have missed out with the shops here not having caught up.

Our children have attended ivy league schools or have stellar careers, are scaling the corporate ladder and breaking glass ceilings, are in blended marriages and every wedding has white, Chinese and black women in sarees and all these men in kurtas. Mainstream organisations celebrate diversity with all things South Asian – samosas, bindis, Indian clothing and music. We wear our Indian-ness with pride and speak with confidence about our cultural practices, where in the past we tried desperately to blend in. Our kids look like us but are nothing like us. Their values and lifestyle micmic the average North American’s and yet they give Indian-ness a good name just by how they look. Our confidence thus buoyed, we live out visually more Indian than ever before. And yet? Are we really Indian with all these superficial feel good experiences? We have not really experienced India in years. Haven’t drunk its water, withered from its heat, suffered its politics, the congestion and pollution or witnessed large scale injustice and the suffering of those who have nothing. In short we do not experience any of the pain of being Indian and just cherry pick all that provides us entertainment and a nexus to mobilise around an answer to that call to our womb. We are shallow at best and hypocrites at worst. We are smug from having found the perfect formula to maintaining our identity as Indians in a foreign land. However, we are not that. We have spent years re-making our identities, acquiring our accent, compromising to redefine our Indian-ness and have mutated into beings that could not survive in India. We know none of its subtlety, relying only on sound bytes from popular media and stereotypes from our short trips. We have not had to adapt and negotiate conflicts or to fight for basic amenities and rights. Our kids make no bones about their lack of Indian-ness. We, caught in between, fit in nowhere except in artificial cocoons created by us to comfort, insulate and ease us. Do we have much to be smug about?!

Facilitating community conversations!

Arriving late, we only got to watch the last part of the heart-warming Cyber - Seniors in the beautiful Sanctuary Room of the Davenport Perth Neighbourhood Community Health Centre. A church converted into a community space, it has stunning ambiance with its stained glass windows, wooden rafters and high ceiling. Usually there is a facilitated discussion after the film.

However, this time around, the volunteer run advisory committee of said centre had group activities planned where they asked folks to get into discussion groups of 6 to 10, come up with ideas for community building and action. The suggestions from the 5 groups ranged from the creation of resident associations to karaoke nights, community conversation spaces, a Latin festival and social clubs. People of all ages engaged in this inter-generational activity.

A model city needs these kinds of gatherings and even though Toronto is better than most, we do wrestle with the problem of social isolation. MCIS and Doc Institute ,with support from the Ontario Trillium Foundation, were delighted to help facilitate tonight's conversation and we are confident the advisory committee of DPNCHC will carry the ideas that were generated and bring them to fruition. They have wonderful programs - visit their site and do not hesitate to get involved!

Also, be inspired by watching or participating in Cyber- Seniors screenings - a project that has now spread to several communities across North America! Become a Mentor, a Cyber- Senior or a Partner , and help spread the word about "the wonderful things that can happen when generation gaps are bridged, and new ways of connecting are explored".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRaEDVxf3j4