Pimple!

              It started as a harmless seeming pimple at the hard to explain place. Let your imagination run wild to imagine it and it was worse than that! So for couple of days Daisy pretended to ignore it. Since it was invisible to everyone around her; she was successful in denying its presence. However as it wouldn’t go away; it started demanding her attention. Soon enough all that she could think of was the pimple at that place which she couldn’t speak in public. The embarrassment (wait it was not even embarrassment at that time yet; but Daisy didn’t’ know) and throbbing pain made it difficult to deny its presence anymore.

              Daisy did the exact that any sane girl would do in such situation. Go to doctor; you would think? Nope, she discussed it with her best friend followed-by intensive online search based on the symptoms. If you had ever searched online for any symptom and it hadn’t led to possibility of cancer or life threatening condition; I am ready to reveal who shared this story with me! And even knowing that online search and so called doctors giving “free” advice on chat forums aren’t reliable; it did make Daisy to pick up the phone and make an appointment with real doctor.

              After a couple of days of wait finally she could meet her physician. One look at that nasty pimple at the place that no one talks about (read on Harry Potter themed – “the one whose name no one speaks of”); and doctor confirmed what online forum had suggested. Yes, Daisy was recommended to go directly to the ER and get admitted for general surgery. Although in pain Daisy was secretly enjoying the guilty pleasure of being in this situation. You would wonder; why? Remember when you were in school and you prayed to get sick during exams/or submissions? Now you can relate better- here Daisy the so-called grown up was dreading the upcoming deadline at work and had been secretly hoping that, “Oh God; please show some miracle and send me on medical leave of absence. Nothing serious please; just something which makes me skip work for some valid reason. So that I can finally get chance to binge watch and finish that last season of my favorite show!” She was delighted, finally her prayers were answered!

              Happily but without showing any remorse of happiness, she called up her family to inform that she has to undergo a surgery and won’t be able to call them for next couple hours(!). Her family was like that loving one in “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”; so they had to know everything. Everyone rushed to the hospital to give her company in ER. That night if someone with real emergency would have walked in would have thought, “Oh no it seems so full! It is going to be such a long wait till I get checked out. Better to try different ER tonight.” As the hours passed by family members made themselves comfortable with vending machine coffee and old hospital jokes. Suddenly someone would remember why they were here in the first place and would ask Daisy if she needed anything from coffee to extra kidney! Daisy’s mom reminded them no drop of water is allowed in case Daisy has to go through general anesthesia. That made the scene even more melodramatic. And made Daisy really hungry and thirsty at the same time. Daisy was sure if the surgery won’t kill her; this hunger is surely going to put her in the dehydrated state.

              To get distracted from dreadful thoughts, Daisy used this time to send out emails to her supervisor, colleagues, janitor in the company and everyone who could have barely waved hello to her at work. She explained that she has to undergo emergency surgery and not sure how long she might be away from work, requesting coverage. And of course expressing how sorry she is feeling about the “bad” timing coinciding the deadline! As she was about to update her Facebook status for checking in the ER; nurse called her name. Suddenly so many people rushed to that nurse that that nurse got confused how can there be so many Daisy Washingtons at the same time! Daisy’s mom made her way pushing everyone aside with Daisy at one hand and one hand in the air. She announced everyone in the family as everyone in the next 50 yards that everyone has to wait outside! Only Daisy, her Mom, her Dad and her husband are going inside with her. Although her aunt, cousins, best friends wanted to accompany her inside; the nurse put her foot down. After saying the exaggerated goodbyes; it felt like the nurse was taking Daisy to her deathbed. Daisy started feeling the seriousness of the situation and her heart sank. “Ah, this could be the last time I am seeing annoying cousin Travis; and I never even got a chance to apologize to him. I didn’t get a chance to eat that last piece of apple pie seating in the fridge.” And so on & on… Does that happen to people who go through near death experience?              

              Before Daisy could start seeing that inviting bright light and enter into tunnel (at least that’s how people who came back to life explain it); nurse started taking her vitals and asking for insurance details. Then there was another long wait till doctor could see her. Another wave of text messages were exchanged informing everyone waiting outside about no update yet. Now the family members were texting about how such thing can happen at “the place that no one should speak of”. As Daisy was reading all that traffic; she felt like burying herself in her own grave!

              Now the doctor came with serious looks and went through the series of typical questions. Daisy was put into the hospital gown whose only intention is to make everything- read EVRYTHING visible from every angle! Now her mom, Dad and husband everyone was interested in taking a peek at what exactly has happened at that “place that no one should speak of”. In her vain efforts of hiding, she looked with merciful eyes to the attending nurse. Unfortunately she missed her signal completely and went on exposing it to the doctor as well as the waiting spectators! As Daisy heard her parents remarks as, “Ooh, that’s nasty. Wait where is it? ; What exactly we are looking at? Ah I can see it; how did it get in there? Daisy, darling I had told you to clean front-to-back; not otherwise!” she missed what doctor had to say. So as the doctor removed the gloves and started to go; she tried stopping him to ask so many questions. But by the time she could get into decent enough coverage possible with that hospital gown the doctor was already gone! She was so mad at her parents and wanted to start yelling; but she got shushed by the attending nurse reminding her of neighboring patients.

              Again after a long wait; the nurse came in with discharge papers! What, what just happened here? Nurse explained that, “Doctor just went over with you that there is nothing at this point that can be done here. If you WANT (like if you WANT we can add-on hot stone massage with your pedicure!), you can get started on antibiotics. Other than that just go home.” Daisy was so disappointed- no near death experience, no surgery, no down time, no pampering, nothing! But all that she got was her parents going over her toddlerhood lessons to her grown up version. Now Cousin Travis got yet another story that would be told over thanksgiving and all family dinners! Drama didn’t end there; she had to go back to her work and explain what happened to everyone that was on that email chain!! Now the deadline started glaring at her which was good enough for her to get the near death experience!

With such embarrassment even the pimple must have started shrinking on its own, as Daisy could barely sense any pain or its existence any more… Lame, lame pimple!

दिल है हिंदुस्थानी! - ओळख

नमस्कार मंडळी!

आपल्या पैकी खूप जणांनी कधी ना कधी भारतात कायमचा परत जाण्याचा विचार केलेला असतो. पण काही कारणांनी तो पुढे ढकलला जातो. आणि असं करताना आपली नक्की ओळख कुठली तेच पुसट होत जातं; त्याविषयीची हि कविता. 

काय चुकतंय कधीपासून चुकतंय

 काहीच कळत नाही

जे हवं आहे ते मिळू नये म्हणूनही धडपड

आणि जे आहे ते निसटू नाही म्हणूनही धडपड

भूतकाळही सोडवत नाही

आणि भविष्याचीही शाश्वती नाही  

सरता सरत नाही तिथली ओढ

जोडता जोडली जात नाही इथलीही नाळ

थांबेल का तो काळ माझ्यासाठी

जो थिजला आहे फक्त माझ्यासाठी

जेव्हा होती दिवाळी रस्त्या-रस्त्यांवर

आणि कंदीलही सजले होते घरा-घरांवर

जेव्हा होते डोळे माझ्या वाटेवर

आणि वळली होती पावलंही परतीकडे

पण ... तो पणच नडला मध्ये

वर्षांची दशकं झाली पण ...पणच आला मध्ये

ना इथले होऊ शकलो

ना तिथलेही होऊ शकू

आता  वाट बघता बघता मीही हरवेन

आणि माझा वाट बघणारा रस्ताही ...

काय चुकतंय कधीपासून चुकतंय

 काहीच कळत नाही!

#proudToBeIndian

Unexpressed Love

Can you hear your name when I’m whispering it in my mind? Do you as well get lost in the memories of what only happened in our minds? Whenever we meet; there’s so much anticipation and in reality we act as if my presence doesn’t matter to you n you don’t exist for me in the room.

Once in a while when the going gets tough and mind wanders to find the solace; only you can provide that strength to keep going. To accept the life as-is; to keep embracing the reality and return back to the world that we’ve created for ourselves. The world where we don’t belong to each other; our paths are not even parallel… our paths are just lost in the Universe where we make sure that they never cross each other. And we move on showing that it doesn’t matter; even stopped craving for that possibility.

And then suddenly someone mentions your sickness, mere cold it was! Yet it’s sufficient to skip my heart bit. I would frantically search online for remedies; just to fool myself that my worrying is worth something! It’s that moment of realization, that when I disappear from the face of earth; you won’t even be on the list for notification. You would keep whispering my name silently and after few days/years someone will casually mention, “Did you hear about her? Ah, you wouldn’t know… you barely met her. Has it been 15-20 years? God, time flies by!“. You won’t be able to mourn openly; will blame it on allergies!

Maybe then you would think, why didn’t I express my feelings? What was it that stopped me from time-to-time? I created all these restrictions for me, what if I had given her what she deserved to hear, what I deserved to utter… What if we had allowed ourselves to dwell into what was not there a little longer & what if…

दिल है हिंदुस्थानी! - Travel Connections

Recently, I had the privilege to travel to India for a short visit. I happened to notice three couples traveling back to India in the same flight as mine. Instantly they became “aunties" and "uncles” for me; I bet no Indian reading this will find anything odd in this instant relationship! After exchanging initial hellos and confirming that our final destination was the same, we didn’t need to spell it out that we would stick with each other at Heathrow for the long layover.

At Heathrow, we took turns watching each other’s luggage as we used the restroom, and all those warnings like “Beware of strangers at the airport and never leave your luggage with anyone unfamiliar” didn’t seem to apply to us. As we completed our security check and arrived at the terminal, I suggested we get connected to the WiFi and inform our families that we had landed safely in London. While having a video call with my kids and husband, the rest of my clan took turns greeting my family as well! The need for privacy during the call didn’t seem, again, to apply here at all. As soon as our phone calls were done, I was given orders... er, a suggestion to brush my teeth before doing anything else! Of course, I had to oblige. As I fumbled through my purse and got my toothpaste out, one of the aunties decided it was a common property— why waste time searching for her own toothpaste, she seemed to think, when mine was already out!

Now, we had another six hours to kill during the layover, and some of us decided to take a stroll around the airport. So we ventured out in all the prestigious stores with well-known brands. After a while, I got thirsty and decided to buy a water bottle. But when I mentioned to purchase the water bottle; that thought got immediately thrown out of the window. “Why do you need to purchase the water? Don’t waste your money. I’ve saved the water bottle that I got on the plane; let’s fill it at the water fountain that I noticed a while back and we can share.” True Indians often know how to re-use everything and where to save money. We don’t believe in “wastage” of money for such essentials like water.

As we were walking, we found the lounge where the other two couples had been seated for the special assistance. Although such lounges are meant only for people who actually need special assistance, we didn’t think twice before entering or spending rest of our time together with them there. I had bought a book at the airport, partially to kill time in the layover and mostly because I do not get enough time for reading in my busy life back home. So I dared to get that book out and read! After being away from India for so many years; I had almost forgotten that such gesture could be considered rude in the presence of friendly company. As soon as I got my book out; one of the aunties started the questionnaire. Usually when we meet strangers and make an attempt to talk, non-Indians usually talk about work, or the weather, or sports and safe political affairs— and always global, never about your own country. This is because the norm is to respect each other's private space and political views. Ah, but not for us Indians! 

Our conversation started with the topic of my family history, why I was traveling to India, how long I would be there, what caste I belonged to (no offense meant and none taken!), and, learning that I was a Brahmin, was I still a vegetarian or had I already compromised our religion? And so on. When I mentioned I was visiting India for my niece’s wedding, the conversational track was changed to her details. What did you gift her? Is it a love marriage and if so is she marrying a Brahmin too? What are her plans for her education, the future, and so on. By that time I realized even I myself hadn’t given much thought about my family’s details in a long time! Once my enquiry was over, they started sharing their details: how long they had been in the USA, how they were proud of their children and grand-children, how they felt lonely back in India, yet can’t spend longer time in the USA because they feel lonely there too. As we were exchanging this oh-so-very-general (!) chit-chat, the uncles decided to take a stroll around the airport. We continued on other topics like the culture in India versus the USA, the food choices available in the USA, what all they prepared for their kids (all adults at this time) before leaving for work. Yes, however odd it may seem, almost all Indian parents cook so much food and freeze it for their kids (?) before they leave for India as if they are leaving them in a famine. And we “kids” as well feel it as a necessity and cherish such frozen food for weeks, reliving the “man ke haath ka khana…”

With all that discussion about food, my tummy started rumbling and I suggested that  we get some coffee and something to eat. They were astonished to know that I didn’t carry anything to eat with me! And I found myself giving an explanation with guilt (?) that I had worked full day before starting my travel and immediately gained the sympathy! As I was looking for something to eat, all Aunties forbid me to purchase anything there; “Why are you purchasing something to eat? We have 'theplas' and you should eat 'ghar ka khana'.” I happily obliged and decided to at least get coffee for them; which of course they resisted for some time. We went through usual social formality of “are nahi nahi, eski kya jarurat thi…” With no surprise, they ordered one coffee that would be shared between two of them. Indians from that generation always master in ways to save. If you buy two small coffees versus one large and share between two, then the later option can save you a few cents! So although I was the one who was paying, they had had that calculation in mind as they said “Tu to hamari beti hai, tera paisa bhi bachna chahiye na!” As we settled back in the lounge and I gobbled theplas from different families, the uncles as well returned back. To accompany the coffee, various kinds of biscuits were offered:- Parle-G, Monaco, Marie. For Indians, Ritz can never come close to Monaco and Marie is the healthiest biscuit which can safely consumed by diabetic people as well! Why? Do not ask! Even though Marie is made with processed flour (maida) and does have sugar, for generations it has been passed as the biscuit safe for the sick or elderly.

Meanwhile one of the uncles had completed the market survey. He shared what the prices were in the UK, USA, or India and what items should be bought in which country in order to get the better deal. I even got the (un-asked-for) advice on what I should buy for my family in the USA on my next India visit and which store had good deals that I should look for during Thanksgiving! Only a person who has worked hard throughout his life and spent every penny carefully can be so thorough in such a short amount of time!

While sharing our family details, personal items, and food and lifting senior citizens’ bags on and off the conveyor belts, nowhere did I think of those horrific stories that often get passed on social media warning to not trust strangers; I simply didn’t need to. Sharing each other’s things, enquiring about personal details, standing so close that you touch each other no matter if you are standing in the crowded Mumbai local train or spacious international airport, getting up and start pushing to get out as soon as the seatbelt sign goes off, looking out for each other— yes, I was on my blissful journey back home. Before even entering India, I was showered with love and warmth from my fellow travelers who were neither Maharashtrian nor Gujrathi nor Bihari, but just Indians, true Indians!

Nostalgia

This is a very weird state of mind- nostalgia! Nostalgia kicks in unannounced and more prevalent after returning from our roots-India. I often start playing the mind game of –what if?

              Even though my husband & kids didn’t take this memorable trip; just seeing the goodies from India took them instantly back to those roads, that honking, that crowd, even the khadus/mean shopkeeper-who now seems so integral to our memories that we miss him as well! While opening the packet of the Indian snacks or putting the long-lost Poppins on tongue transforms us to our childhood memories. Each small thing, even the smell that is so peculiar to India of udabatti/incense sticks & moth balls and so much more-creating that mesmerizing sense- gets trapped in the bags that travelled across the globe! Kids keep on opening these bags for months just to travel to that happy memory lane and keep searching what is this smell exactly like! I find myself being lost in the conversations that I had with loved ones, with friends, even the negotiations made with the street-hawkers! These memories are the lifeline to get through the everyday responsibilities and life here-away from our roots, family, and friends! Kids keep going through the photos and sighing, “I wish I was there!” All of us keep talking about what happened back in India and who said what, what was on the menu, what are our traditions, and gossip and and…. It is never ending to keep traveling on that memory lane…

              Well, time to remind myself- “You are where you need to be!” Until we realize that we are not!