Re-blogging [Going around the Sun and the sunny connections!]

The original post is here via livingvipassana.com

This is a special year and the day this post goes online, I celebrate my 40th birthday. I have so much going on as I reach this milestone of a year. It makes me quite humble at the thought of rounding the Sun forty times already :-)

I am happy to realise that I am more open to forgiveness as I connect with people now. I am not sure if this is as a result of my conscious practice of Vipassna or I am mellowing down with age. I am sure both have an affect on my current peaceful existence. I am glad that I am growing up to be peaceful in my surround, to be able to accept things as they are without being irritated. I am able to value the gift of moments to stay centered, to be able to celebrate and not waste time in cribbing and complaining.

I am at an interesting place in life right now. I have already had lived a life quite full with events, experiences and looking forward, I intend to have another full-fledged innings with love, life, laughter and peace. And I intend this next innings to be meaningful and that I live this in all awareness.

I don’t know why, just from the time September began this year, my world got into a frenzied action. They say one’s birth month always brings in action around you, and I am seeing all that is happening around me from this context. And its uncanny how people, colleagues, friends, acquaintances from past are suddenly appearing in my horizon from nowhere. It’s as if this new phase should be named ‘blast from the past’ :-)

For example: one of this was like as if I had a déjà vu when someone who I last met in my univ days (a foreign student who I lost touch), I wanted to get in touch recently, suddenly sent me an email looking me up on the internet. Then there was this old colleague from another city calling me up in the middle of a work day to discuss a potential collaboration. Then there was this person who runs a travel company with whom I did one of my memorable tours way back in 2011 (where I managed to climb the Tiger’s Nest by foot and felt ‘all-so-serene’ despite bad knee and failing lungs), called me asking whether I would do a travel blog for his company.

Well, you get the scene, right?

I see I am responding to all these connections with an open mind and trying to see just the fact that people are reaching out to people, old friends reconnecting with old friends. May be, as you get older you tend to reminisce more and get nostalgic, and you tend to search for old friends from univ and send an email. And its not difficult these days with a slight help from the ‘Man Friday’ called ‘Google’ :-) I am observing a change in my response – that I am not asking questions, and not getting suspicious about people, not remembering bitter things that had happened or for that matter not even getting upset why they didn’t keep in touch for so long. I wish to continue this streak of ‘taking things as they are’ and live in the moment and enjoy the life this way.

Hope I continue to live my life in all awareness and in consciousness and able to share all the metta all around me, in my surround, in my interactions, and in my relations. And let there be loads of happiness, peace, love, laughter in everyone’s life.

Lots of metta from the birthday girl :-)

P.S: it just came to my mind to tell you that my name literally means ‘Sun’ and I got my name after the place I was born!

Re-blogging [Watching the show]

Original post is here via www.livingvipassana.com

It is raining cats and dogs here and as I write this I can hear thunderbolts as if some explosions are taking place up above. I am in Cochin, Kerala, and this is a work trip. I am writing this post after my dinner, before I go to sleep. I like to write in the evenings before I go to bed, this way I clear my head and it helps me as I deliberate on topics in the class next morning. Oh, I teach for a living.

Wait, who is this? What is she doing here?

Well, I just joined this blog as a contributor and I must thank Ryan for this. Actually, I need to tell you a story here as this ‘thank you’ should be extended to this teacher I met recently and he is the one who mentioned about this blog.

So, where was I and what was I doing?

The summer had been tough and I have been pretty much looking for an option to get away. I did take some short vacations and thought I would find balance. I did take some days off and did not do anything and I thought it would help me get in sync. And at the end, I really had to stop trying and register for my next Vipassna course.

It was the long weekend – that Independence Day-Janmashtami long weekend and it gave me almost a good five days with just one leave. Next thing I knew I was in Pushkar amidst all the tourists but not for any tourism! I just wanted to be away. And I indeed was away for some time, away from pretty much everything and it was planned. It is important not to do anything sometime. Yes, you read it correctly and I was in that kinda phase – a very frugal existence, cut off from everything, waking up on the lap of nature with chirping birds, watching moments pass by, feeling your breath, and being aware about the ‘you’, enjoyed looking at colorful flowers and dancing peacocks and looking at the sky and how cloud skirted around the mountains….yes, there was mountain and there was water – a lake and there was peace. There is PEACE still and I love the feeling! Its wonderful to get in sync and feel the balance, to feel the deepest core of your mind, your thoughts and not react by the mundane that happens around you……its such a fulfilling experience and I did it again…..yes, I meditated among the monks! Bliss it is :-)

However much aware you are, it is important to practice. And this time, during this Vipassna course I really internalized it. I knew all the principles of Vipassna, I had taken it before. My first course was way back in 2008 on the lap of the Himalayas. But then we all move away from the practice and we get deviated.

I remember discussing my experiences from Vipassna with a close friend and I mentioned how this time I did not really ask any questions to the teacher during the course, how I understood the real meaning of looking inside, how it is to be in balance and to empty your mind. I am glad I realized that whatever be our life situations we need to be fixing them – we need to find the answers ourselves, no one can find it. Its only when you are clam, when you are in peace, you are centered that you think through and then all your actions are clear and effective.

The whole idea of equanimity that to remain unaffected by things around you, that there will be ups and downs, there will be sun and the gloom, there will be laughter and drama, there will be love and pain and we need to see different shades, acknowledge them, register them but not get affected. I realized it is important not to value judge any of these different shades in order to remain unperturbed. This is not to say ‘ignore the gloom’ or ‘avoid anger’ but being aware what is anger and yet not get affected by it. The moment we take the position of a bystander and watch things, we can remain unaffected. This practice of Vipassna literally makes you observe all these processes. I am glad, I like to watch the show. I know I am participating in the show that way but I am able to enjoy the show more than before :-)


P.S: Sharing a blogpost I wrote on LivingVipassana.com where I am a contributor blogger. Solna.

fair and not so fair....

“wish I was'nt dark skinned”.

I remember someone mentioned this when we were asked ‘what was the one thing you would like to change about yourself’ during one of the many leadership training workshops we get to attend on the job. Well, this was way back in 2011 in the city of Sydney and the colleague I am referring here was recounting her story from working in India. In our day-to-day, run of the mills times, such workshops often help us to rewind, introspect, listen to others’ stories and help reflect and gain perspectives in the process. I remember, I did take notice of the face of the person when I heard that sentence in that crowded seminar room. Firstly, it was very different from what every one of us were recounting and also because I needed to contextualize the statement with reference to the face. I do not remember exactly what I had said that day in my response to the same question, but now, especially what happened in last 24 hours, I think I would not think twice to say ‘wish I was not fair..err a fair sex’.

Well, I am very proud of the fact that I am a female. I am glad that I can be independent in this time and age and can decide for myself. Life has been a great education and I grew up knowing I am the only female child in the whole generation in a 'male outnumbering female' family and it is not a bad idea to be a girl, a woman, a female as long as you are sure of yourself.

Before I thrash it out, here are couple of disclaimers: I am an Indian, born and bred ‘locally’ with an overdose of travelling to many cities and countries to know that earth is indeed round! I am not young, not a teenager, at the least, who is overwhelmed at her experience of this world after she has been let out of her proverbial ‘parental cocoon’. But rather, read my story as ‘story of a woman’, a woman who has rounded the sun close to forty times, been to more than twenty five countries, lived independently in many cities which she called home from time to time, have had experienced myriad things under the sun (and also under the shade) to not to get overwhelmed with any new experience. Oh, she was trained as an Anthropologist to explore the unexplored and has been working in various locations for her researches for more than fifteen years. So, you get the picture, right?

Some of my students had told me that I am quite a powerful woman who they would like to emulate in life. Oh, I am also a teacher and teaching a class full of people from diverse background and locations pleases the person I have in my core. And now, the same ‘powerful’ woman is pouring out after she felt defeated, violated, not once but three times within the span of 24 hours. Well, similar things had happened before, and I had gained experience and made peace with them. And when I had discussed these with close friends, I was advised to take all these experience to my stride and not get hurt or to feel bitter. Anyway…

Story # 1

Picture this: I am on the road to the airport to catch my flight – the first flight out from this state capital in Eastern India. Earlier, I had booked a car for my airport drop from this five-star hotel I was staying in. As I started my journey for the airport, I called home to inform on my flight timings and expected time of arrival and just when I disconnected, the car screeched to a very abrupt halt bumping to the car we were trailing. I looked up to see what was ahead only to notice two big cows peacefully crossing the road and two hefty men emerging out of the car before us. Some heated altercation ensued and before things started to get ugly the driver of my car pleaded that he had a passenger for the morning flight and that we were running late and quickly made an exit from the scene. I was jolted, firstly, with a not-so-severe jaw injury (there was no backseat belt in the car) and then from the suddenness of the whole drama and the heated argument between two sets of drivers. I reached the airport and got engrossed in usual security rituals of ID cards, tickets, baggage scanning etc. Just when I was beginning to feel composed and waiting for my turn at the check-in queue, I heard someone shouting on top of his lungs ‘excuse me madam’….’excuse me madam’ as if he owns the airport. Everyone turned towards him and he came straight towards me and started to howl further to the point that I could see his eyeballs – yes, he was that close. Remember, I said, it was the first flight out – so, it was almost an empty airport and who so ever were present near the check-in counter started to watch the ‘high pitch’ drama. My response was that I was not driving, and it was not my car and also, the first car made an abrupt halt because of cows grazing on to the roads and cars involved were not banged badly as I did not see damage on the car and no one got badly hurt and that I was a visitor to this city and car belonged to the hotel I stayed during my trip. He kept shouting and asked which hotel I stayed in. At that point I logically could not continue talking with this ill-behaved person so I very sharply said ‘you can’t talk to me like this, please behave like a gentleman. You are shouting at me and this is an airport and not a scene of a drunken brawl’. And I stopped and turned towards the check-in counter. It worked. He went away and tried calling on his mobile phone making some more noise but refrained from making any direct communication with me. To tell you the truth, I was terrified to the core. I guess I can’t handle high pitch exchanges. And I was terrorised further when I figured that the person in question was my co-passenger and we would be sharing the same space for next four hours or so (if not longer).

As I was checking in, I just pleaded with the airline staff that in case this man is also a passenger on the same flight, I would not like to be seated next to him as he has been harassing me following me trailing the car and now in the airport. The airline suggested I report this to the CISF officials at the airport. But I chose not to report this and I gathered my hand luggage and seated myself in one corner to catch my breath and get some peace.

Now, as I recount this less than 10 min episode over and over again in my head, and with friends, I feel bizarre. And I am sure many who have travelled on road in India have been party to such scene. It was not really an error on the part of my driver – the first car halted abruptly and you follow suit and often such ‘bumping into each other’ does not involve much physical damage. I guess, as a fellow driver you contextualize the situation and let it pass. In the current case, on the contrary, there was every possibility of a road rage and possible physical assault. I did not want to divulge the name of the hotel as it could have led to some bad blood and the poor driver could have been in trouble in this game of power. Also, think about me – I was checking in to board my flight. In what sense would you come after me to fight? Also, when I mentioned my situation, I am sure it sounded rather foolish to ‘gherao’ the passenger and rather a visitor in the new city. Also, could not this interaction be milder, and done in polite ways? Why the man has to harass me? Why that man has to follow me into the airport almost to the point to terrorise me. I am sure people at the check in counter and those by-standers could observe that I was shaking in fear and anxiety handling such a violent outpour from a stranger and tugging along my luggage.

Now, my question is: what would have happened if there was a man in my place?

Story #2

Fast forward four hours, including one and half hours at the cruising height of 30,000 feet up above, I find myself in another car on the road of another city on my way home from another airport. The car is stuck in traffic and from both sides I have very ‘eager’ onlookers. I know, you would say, what is so new about it, especially when you are in a country of 2 billion people? Well, I am aware to expect crowded roads, traffic congestions but strangers communicating with you in the middle of a traffic jam – to the point of making music to the tune of whistle? Excuse me. However strong and independent you are, you get bothered when you are ogled at, you are whistled at, and you are teased. And however much you ask me to ignore, I have observed that its way difficult to ignore and let it pass. Only thing you wish, you weren’t there. I mean, it was rather terrifying with burly men on their bikes parked on both sides of your car at a traffic light and they are making enough noise and gesture to knock you off from your snooze. I remember thinking aloud to let my driver know that I was feeling uncomfortable and that he should take care to see where he parks at the next traffic light. Anyway, a part of me was trying to make sure that all the doors were locked from inside.

Now my question is: what do you think, I tend to over react or would you like to place your daughter, or wife or sister or mother in my place and ask how she felt? Did she also feel that gut wrenching fear, that nauseating anger and feeling stuck and a strong urge to be invisible and evaporate in the broad daylight?

Story #3

I reach home, make a couple of phone calls and update some emails. Laze around for some time and then make some food to recharge myself. I pause to capture my wandering mind to compose myself before I start working. After the end of work day, I decide to run some errands and headed for the market. My phone rings, it’s an unknown number and the caller is addressing me as ‘professor’ and congratulating me for what he perceived I achieved in my profession. Long story short, this was a phone call from someone who I first met some nineteen years ago and knew from my university time. He is visiting India for a week and intends to meet up with old friends as he has bunch of updates including his marriage, his new baby boy and the great position as advisor at the ministry back in his home country. As we spoke I came to know he searched for me on google and learned about my work and called my office at 9am to give me a surprise call. Since I was away from my office (story no 1 and story no 2 can tell you that!) what he planned to surprise me did not work and instead the receptionist at work connected him to my mobile phone. I tell you, in this time and age of easy connectivity and virtual world, this is a scary truth that you have no idea who all you are sharing your information with without even knowing about it! And I am not any celebrity! Anyway, an impromptu reunion was planned between two old friends from the university. We planned to meet at this open air crafts emporium in the evening as he had a meeting planned with the college principal in the late afternoon. Little did I know that this impromptu meeting with an old friend from univ would leave me feeling violated at the end of the day.

Now, you will ask what happened. Yes, I will spit..err spill it all ….…so, read on.

I guess hugs and handshakes are part of any reunion and meetings with old friends. But, kisses, inappropriate touches despite your objection? He was all emotional and trying to remember each and every interaction from last decades and somewhere overemphasized that I was his ‘first’ friend in this new country when he enrolled as a student in the univ way back in 1996. I watched for a while, but as usual, my straightforward streak could not be subdued for long so I cracked an awkward question ‘I guess, such deep friends do know about their friends’ lives and not spring up surprises after decades’. Our meeting was rather short and he insisted that he will drop me home despite my refusing him chaperoning me. At one point, I did start to sniff that this wasn’t a very benevolent friendly reunion that is unfolding but rather a lusty man trying to sell emotional stories to seduce a woman. I guess, any friend who truly knows what it means to be a friend, would respect what you say, and value your words and would never violate their friends. Despite repeated requests he kept hugging me, kept holding my hands however many times I would free them from his clasps, and even tried to touch me in objectionable ways. I had to end this ‘reunion’ and made a hasty move to return home and headed for the metro. After almost ten minutes or so, as I was waiting for the next metro, I saw him peering to get a look of the side of the platform which is meant for ‘women coach’. At that moment, I felt so unsafe and I cursed myself for taking this decision to meet this ‘old friend’ instead of getting some rest after an already ‘eventful’ day.

So, what do you think, I made a bad decision to go meet an old friend? If I go to meet an old friend, does it mean I am asking him to kiss me or touch me? Is not my saying ‘no’ means no? Why an old friend has to be slapped to make him understand that I have all the right over my own body and it’s not friendly to touch a friend’s body just like that?

So what do you say now? I say, it’s no fun to be shouted at, it’s no fun feeling terrified and terrorised and fending all by yourself, it’s no fun to be ogled at, and of course it’s no fun at all to get kissed when you don’t want it!

You know, why I wish I wasn’t fair…err.. a fair sex!? Wait, do you still think I am strong and powerful? I am really tired of all these….

Life from the side lines….

Just when the caterpillar thought the world was ending, it turned into a butterfly. ~Proverb

Watching life from the side lines sometimes can be such a worthwhile experience. I am in such a phase right now – much of the reason is that I do not want to be part of this race to know whether I can really run or to prove it to anyone and on another level, I am in a different mode where I observe and not ‘do’ stuff. You may say something different but that doesn’t bother me. We all have our own opinions and view points and I do what I want to do and think the way I want to think and I totally have my reasons.

I have seen life – inside-out, pretty deep I must say. I have lived in different places with different people, travelled, seen the world, made friends, climbed mountains, and went deep into the ocean, had seen successes and failures, lost and found, tasted the highs and fallen deep and deeply in love, laughed and cried and nonetheless, made a happy connection with life and a meaningful one at that! And of course, I lived a life to die without any regrets. I know, I can do better and that’s always the case, I want to do much more than what I do, with a wish to better my best. And perhaps that’s the reason I am always in this continuous anxiety, constant restlessness and don’t find reasons to feel satisfied. Yes, I haven’t achieved what I set out to achieve in this life 

And then, I slowed down, to observe and to ponder and prolly, to reinvent and see through things. I must say – this is exhilarating. I know I am different. I know that. And you told me too many times. But now I celebrate that differentness and don’t try to conform or please anyone. It is what it is, take it or leave it and I do no harm, I do not mean any harm. I have grown this way to be me, I have been brought up this way to be me and not to alter my wiring and be what you want me to be. I know I am a woman in a man’s world. I know I am one tough nut and you get jitters to face me. I know I am a delicate one and I wear this tough shield for the world outside. I know I am a difficult one you love to dump in one corner.

But what the hell, how does that matter? You play your game and I play mine. But the scene is, I see through your game and you cant win me over. Because, for a long long time, I have stopped accepting your definitions, your standards, your ideals, your perspectives. Because, with the life I have, the experiences I have gone through, I have to respect my own perspectives, I have to acknowledge my thinking, accept my true feelings. And it is totally perfect to be different. It’s awesome to be difficult. It’s joyous to be ‘me’. Yes, I know I am going there where I belong. I am wee bit too late or too early but things are falling in place and before you even know your view points, your standards, your ideals will be so obsolete and I could care less what you thought about me. But you know, however difficult you made it for me, actually this journey helped me see things differently and helped me to mould me. So I say ‘thanks nonetheless! ‘ wearing that nice smile which I know you cant handle! [hehe]

Oh, have you read this one Oscar Wilde wrote once? that “what seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise.” It makes so much sense to me from where I am now :-)


Addendum [3 July 2014]: just needed to clarify as many of the readers are intrigued about who is this 'you' I have referred in this post. I am an Indian, based out of India and this 'you' refers to the stereotype society, people, situation create for a woman. This 'you' is no individual but a group. Thanks, Solna.

Dreams uncensored....

Already six days have passed from the sixth month of this year and it isn't too late to start drawing up a plan of action - I kinda don't like the term resolution! I plan, and I act on them and they take shape!

This year, I want to go back to my birthplace on my birthday and meditate among the monks!

This year, I want to write down that dream!

This year, I want to get a tattoo!

This year, I want to bring one change in my life - something which I haven't done before, attempted before, something, anything! This one is open ended as I love surprises, I love things different and I believe in spontaneity :-)

And I have less than six months to accomplish them all, actually less than three months for 'meditating among monks' :-)

I dream, I dream big, I am like that and things happen to me. Wide grin!

and it didn't rain today....

It was late afternoon, lying on my belly I was absorbed into the the gypsies and that stench of bichloride of mercury, and then everything around me turned dark. Dark as if it's night.

Remember, I said, late afternoon and I was reading the book. That famous one, because I'm still mourning and I know I will mourn another 100 years.

My eyes turned to the windows and through those sexy lacy curtains I saw a glimpse of outside. Sky is into a new color - as if hordes of animals just furiously sprinted by, spewing splashing muddy red hues on the horizon. I stepped out of my bed and peeped out of the glass windows - everything around seemed to be in a certain fury that moment. My favorite balcony corner by the neem tree looked even more scarier than that ugly scary smiley on my FB chat!

And I narrated this to myself as I went about to the kitchen to drink some cold water - 'neem tree shook it's head so furiously, so vigorously as if it went in trance, as if there entered a ghost in its branches through the roots seeping through the sewage water and it is trying to get rid of it'. Ah, I can imagine the pain in their struggle.

Hmmm. I checked from room to room for open windows and doors as everything and possibly everything within everything got into this uncontrollable motion adding to the frenzied existence of dust, darkness and dampness - it's 42degC inside the house and I am sweaty as if I'm under the running shower!

Things settled down after a couple of 'night in the middle of the day' kinda FB updates. I made myself an egg - just craved for some snack to witness this nature's playing with color :-) Then drank some cool ice tea and even got back to the same position on the bed with the book - only to realize the cool breeze marked the end of the fury and somewhere it must be raining.

And it didn't rain today. It still didn't rain here. It did not rain to cool me down, to soothe my soul, to drench me in love.

Drug. Sex. Insomnia.

Its well past midnight and I am doing some serious ‘burning midnight oil’ and it’s all about sex and drugs, err…drugs and sex. Well, this is no romantic escapades I am chronicling, if reading this far you envisaged some juicy anecdotes in the following paragraphs! Be warned, I am gonna talk about some real serious, real deep and really heart wrenching stories. And it involves me…yes, poor me!

I am happy that I finally got over that writer’s block I was suffering from and I am happy that I finally have a complete report right in front of me! Ah, I remember I did promise someone that I would share this piece of work I managed walking through all those spells of insomnias – well, it is now ready for public consumption! And I am really happy. Its rather not happy but a feeling which is so confidence boosting, a feeling which feels like as if someone is whispering sweet nothings into my ears! Well, it feels nice. That nice kinda nice :-)

Drug. Sex. Insomnia and a sleepy moi!

Some nights, working on my notes, I find myself sleeping on my belly with my face perched on the laptop keyboard. And then after couple of ‘turtle hours’ I wake up in the brightly lit bedroom to the tune of Sinatra. This could have been a scene of some nice, romantic, ‘sex-capades’, but alas it’s in my dreams, I dreamt of those tight embrace and those thick muscular arms!

Like a flower….

Picture this: Norah Jone’s husky voice filled the balmy air in the bedroom. It’s in closed door-window mode with dust storm outside– precautions for poor lungs which cant suck in thick air. Marquez’s orange yellow paperback lays upturned at page 17 and ‘remember me with a rose’ brushing on those tulip bed sheet, in the middle of a re-reading mode!

Oh, that orange yellow cover covered that famed cholera…err ‘Love in the time of Cholera’. Somewhere, that Medical Anthropologist and that Public Health Specialist and that traveller loses herself to a thing in the past on an unknown Spanish road, camouflaged as a Latina! Well, it had happened before; she had lost her ways to find her ways in life. And that was Barcelona. From Paella to Park Güell to Gaudi to Picasso and getting drenched in cava in those old Spanish pubs. Seven years since. Flashback moments and there was love. There was that husky voice, cat calls as you stop by the paid phone booth to make those phone calls to hear to that thick baritone from across the ocean. Yes, ocean! Hmm….flashback indeed!

Well, to come back to where it started from, yes, finally, suddenly, everything around feels so light, unburdened, as if there’s that lightness, a certain high from the first puff you suck in, as if there’s that slight buzz when you take a deep gulp after a nice swirl in your mouth, as if you just got kissed eyes all closed, all dreamy and light and as if a light feather just floated on the naked body.

The writing on ‘drugs and sex’ is complete and I am done with! and it all feels so dreamy yet real. Yes, drugs-sex and a bit of insomnia.. err …dreams :-)

Deep into the dark sky there are some stars smiling. Nice fragrant gardenias fill the air. A hint of sandalwood oil lingers on the nape and those saffron threads float on the water.

Surreal. Ecstatic. Blissful.

Spring Cleaning :-)

Spring cleaning!
Well, quite literally, actually I am in the middle of shifting to a new space both in personal as well as professional domain. You know, given my track record of travelling and moving with jobs, this should not make you any curious or jittery. Relax.

My office is relocating to a brand new seven storey building; I need to really pay attention to that email I received as I woke up on a Saturday morning. It’s the boss kinda telling in too many nice words to ‘get organised’. Though the email was sent to all who are currently housed in this beautiful ‘green building’ but I am sure many at work would know what this entails for me :-)

Well, moving to a new space which is not as spacious as your current work space can be a problem when you are dealing with a hoarder! C’mmon, I aint one, don’t you know how many projects I get to handle over this six years or so? And then I am very old world, I still like to do pen on paper and all my meetings with my students end up into documents which I keep referring until they complete their dissertation , even after that actually! So you get the scene, I keep accumulating stuff and quite like to keep them as I completely feel any tiny little interaction has the potential to inspire something and I am open to ideas all the time. You need to see my white board at work and how I scribble things on it and it’s a technique I have found which really helps me focus, helps me de-clutter and stay inspired.

Anyway, long story short, the mandate is ‘bring things which are useful to the new work space and leave the rest and they will dutifully find their way to the shredding machine’ .
Similar is the scene at home. There has been no email or no boss dictating or no new space on offer. Its just that regular spring cleaning – an extended one, you can say!

And what the hell of a cleaning it has been….huh!!

I remember reading a quote a few days ago and it went like this “you never know what you have until you clean your room”. This is so true, I have been staying put with my set of things (with intermittent additions from my many travels and some upgrade on the house etc)from pretty much the time I returned back to Delhi NCR in 2006 after staying in many different places for my work which almost started to have an annual pattern with a certain alphabet :-) I mean to cities starting with a certain alphabet! Anyway…

To continue with the de-clutter mode, I am trying to sort my books from travel documents, research papers from novels I read during traveling to some international conferences, painting and souvenirs from letters – hand written letters at that. And I am overwhelmed! First – so many people have been part of my life. Work colleagues, co-travellers, relatives (I have a very big family who don’t live in one place!), friends – so much memories and I am in no mood to abandon any of them. So what if I don’t travel back to see my old landlady in that beautiful summer house in Sweden but the joy that she thought of writing back to me years after I lived at her place is very endearing

. Notes, post cards, photos – and I am at loss how to organise everything. I have a dream to capture all of these, every experience of mine in a book. Yes, there I found this letter – a very lengthy, handwritten one, and someone very dearly telling me that I must do a travelogue as I write quite well. As they say, some things just don’t change and I am still nursing that dream!

I don’t know what was it that I started to write this blog this evening and now I am quite nostalgic, philosophic about life…err spring cleaning! But I guess, you got the point that there are so many people, so many things that shape you, that impact you and you only get enriched with each of these interactions, each of the trips you undertake, each of them….
Yes, sometimes in the passage of time some people or for that matter some memories are shuffled and sorted at a different layer which gets covered by the newer friends or newer priorities but they all remain there. It’s a different matter how you reminisce – I do with looking at old notes, old photos, books, letters etc.

I am glad that I met you all and I am happy that I remember you all and I have memories to cherish about you all :-) And wait, in addition to travel writing, I pretty much can even help guide/organize trips starting from the Great Wall of China to the Great Barrier Reef :-)

Flour Fortification for 'Sahariya's - Food for thought!

I generally dont do work related posts here. But the Anthropologist overpowered this blogger ever since she chanced upon an old field note from an old research work among one of the primitive tribal population in India. I remember writing this for one of our online journals. Re-posting here.

Life is a mirage: Mirage is commonplace in a desert and more so when I was in the arid terrain of Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh where the Sahariya tribe, one of the most primitive tribal groups, resides.
In the wee hours, when birds were yet to start chirping, cruising in a not-so-well maintained jeep through the dense forests of Ranthambore, passing through flocks of peacocks, wild deer and Nilghais, could mean a thrilling experience. In reality, it was more like a decorated top layer of the proverbial ‘Pandora’s box’ when we reached Sheopur from Sawai Madhopur (Ranthambore National Park is situated in Sawai Madhopur district in Rajasthan).

The grandeur we observed in Sawai Madhopur and in its vicinity stood in stark opposition to what our eyes met at Sheopur- a good one and hour ride away. Seeing a tiger or a flock of peacocks did not cause any excitement for a Sahariya; not just because these were part of their environment but because they had other more ‘exciting’ priorities in life. And after a 5 hour long train journey, followed by an hour and half long road trip through one of the gorgeous tiger reserve forests in India, we found ourselves in the land of ‘endemic anemia’ if I could use this term so profusely. According to national statistics this community scored alarmingly below the normal nutritional and health indicators. The NFHS-III data on the proportion of rural women in the age group of 15-49 shows that 44.98% of women have Chronic Energy Deficiency (CED) which is the second highest in India. Also, 61% of rural women (15-49 years) are anaemic in the state.

Past perfect: Madhya Pradesh and I have a past. I used to live and work there. But this time it was different. Amidst those arid terrains, in 50 degree centigrade, it was both physically challenging and emotionally overwhelming.
In their daily life, Sahariyas go through a lot of hardship. In terms of the terrain which has extreme climate with a very hot summer and very cold winter. In arid terrains, regular supply of drinking water is difficult and so are green leafy vegetables and fruits. Withstanding high temperature in summers with lack of balanced diet, Sahariyas indeed readied them to be a malnourished community.

“Those nine days”- It is officially known as ‘nau-tapa’ (literally: nine days of extreme heat wave) in the state of Madhya Pradesh and local calendars mark these nine days in the lines of gazetted holidays in MP. From our comforting air-conditioned environs, this ‘nau tapa’ was quite an antithesis. My training as an Anthropologist came handy where I was taught to do what locals do to adapt in a new setting. And those white cotton scarves came handy and I would wrap them around my head and face to look like one of those bandits who used to rule these terrain eons ago. (Now I know the mystery behind their head gear!) Those white cotton scarves helped when I could not find any tree to take shelter as we sat down to interview a group of women in the village in Shivpuri.
I learn a lot about life from my field work, from what I jot down sitting under that lone Neem tree in a village when all the children would gather around me in their joie-de-vivre, oblivious to what those frantic scribbling would eventually translate into. Nonetheless, their joy is infectious and it keeps me going from one household to another thinking sunshine will follow this gloom and one day these villages will have better nutritional and health indicators. Life is about learning and this time it was important for me to learn how Sahariyas would react to fortified flour than to get perturbed for what meets the eye. And in my mind I would blabber “they had not have a full square meal for days and here I am asking about their preference for wheat flour?” Researcher in me had to take charge when in field and data collection become the only priority. Madhya Pradesh, especially the northern part of this state, is one of the high yielding states for good quality wheat grains in India. Sahariyas located from the same geographical areas have been suffering from malnutrition presented an example of contrast.

“Whiter it is, better it is”. It was interesting to understand in terms of colour of flour that whiter the colour it was perceived of better quality. And thus what they ordinarily availed from what they say ‘control shop’ (meaning: government-run Ration shops) were below standard and hence they would not consume them. This is a common practice among Sahariyas and it is so deep rooted that they usually sell off the flour they get from public distribution system and buy packaged flour from local grocery stores.
In reality, ‘brown’ flour is a healthier option compared to the ‘whiter’ variety as the former contains all the nutrition of whole wheat grain. ‘Whiter’ flour does not contain the husk which gives the ‘brown’ tinge for whole wheat flour and in turn is much inferior in terms of nutrition.

“Today is the day and I live here and now”. This seemed to be Sahariyas philosophy of life as it is in most tribal communities. In the beginning of summer every year they would migrate to work in the wheat fields in the neighbouring areas when crop is ready. They would receive wheat grains for their work, which meant almost 100 KG of grains per family. The entire family migrates during this season to work in the fields and they walk the entire way, unless they are lucky enough to get a free ride from trucks on the highways. Bringing back wheat grains on their return means spending a lot of money on transport; so they prefer bartering those wheat grains for sarees, foot-wears which are easier to carry. Alternatively they sell the grain for 100 or 200 Rupees. There were some instances where the family has mortgaged the ration card to buy food items and liquor.

Development has always been a multi-pronged entity and here among Sahariyas in Madhya Pradesh, interaction between poverty, education and health form a vicious cycle. Tribal way of life is still not understood and not assimilated in development programmes in general. It looks imperative to have an intensive behaviour change communication (BCC) with providers to sensitise them towards Sahariya tribe’s way of life. In addition to this, large scale behaviour change communication in the community has to be planned for successful implementation of flour fortification programme in the region. And it’s a long way ahead for Sahariyas to walk the path of development.

And we saw light at the end of the tunnel. With various development programmes available to the Sahariyas, looks like in times to come, they will move closer to a better, healthier life. We met a spirited 18 year-old Sahariya girl. She is from one of those villages we visited for this study. She lives with her mother who supports the family from the meagre earnings that come selling firewood in the local market in Guna. Her father died when she was barely few months old. She went to Tribal Welfare Development (TWD) run Kanya Vidyalaya; these are residential schools for tribal children. She has passed the higher secondary examination year and she's all set to become a teacher in the village school. She also plans to study for a bachelor’s degree with a distance learning course. Her hopes and aspirations and her positive attitude, assure us that, after all, there is hope for the next generation of Sahariyas if more such girls follow her path.

There is always hope and we hope that with intensive education, nutrition and development programmes dedicated to Sahariyas, one day this community will have better health and nutritional indicators.

Tagore in the time of Love!

Had it happened to you ever that you are thinking about something and you see that happen in real life?

I am in that kinda phase, it is where I almost feel like a psychic – somewhere it feels cool but another way its rather scary and I feel confused, and depleted. My senses are so heightened that I can feel every kind of energy around me. I try to relate this phase with things happening around me but I don’t seem to put my finger on one thing! Its like those dimensions of multiple truths – yes, in reality things aren’t all that black-and-white, however much we would like to believe that way. Things are rather fuzzy, and it all depends how we like to make believe, how we like to see, how we like to find meaning to this whole existence called life! Well, pretty much its how you think!

I have been travelling quite a bit – mostly for work. I love to travel – I’m sure you can tell that by now! But sometimes these travels can get on to you as my area of work almost always makes me think deep, makes me philosophical, and I start to think through things. And then there are moments where I find peace, feel tranquil when I see happy faces despite all the miseries around us, when I see the spirit in people despite life threatening diseases that I feel humble, and feel content from within despite layers of turmoil splashing on me from all around.

So, I was reasoning it out about this unruffled state of being with my many travels that I miss my bed [read: sleep deprived] and the cosy environs of my own home. And that I have been out in the open absorbing so much energy from everything.

But then, being in one place does suffocate me. I am sure you will call me strange but I am dead honest and that’s probably why I love to travel as these trips keep me going, make me imbibe different things from different cultures, make me rationalize the ‘others’ , the ‘different’ and somewhere I feel centred, mature and wise.

Some places clearly attract me, some energy do soothe me, and I am naturally drawn to nature where I get to synthesise balance within me, get rid of the turmoil and get rejuvenated. I did have one such short trip and felt happy to be around family and friends.
I keep asking myself, whether I am trying to escape things, is it that I am afraid of facing something, is it that I can’t take risks and wait for the uncertain to unravel, is it that despite how I abhor people who settle for things regular, things commonplace, things stereotypical – I too am longing for ‘regular’ stuff to feel comfortable for this existence. Huh! confusion and more confusion, and I am happy not to have any answers as that offers me reasons to live, to strive and to wait. In the process, I only get the opportunity to grow, to mature, to be patient.

This is almost getting confessional here. I know, you will say- its like that all the time. Yes, I write the way I think and it liberates me. And this is my blog, so I have all the reasons to pour out how I think, what I think :-) And then, writing is cathartic and I see things getting unclogged and I see creative juices starting to flow - that feeling is very exhilarating. I feel happy, I feel joy, I feel alive and these help me to see through those confusion and I start walking :-)

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And as I was talking of connections and feeling psychic – I got a book, a Tagore, last night and I read it before I slept. Call it a coincidence - it arrived all the way from Shantiniketan and it is a travelogue [Japan Yatri]. What more suitable of a gift it can be for a nomad, for someone who loves Tagore! And guess what, what did I chance upon? Travelogue opens with him discussing his needs to travel, why being in another place soothes him, make him feel creative. And for time and again he suffers from pangs to be with nature, to absorb nature and the need to feel centred. If you don’t believe me, get hold this Tagore vintage and read for yourself! Wait, I will help you read some of it at least…I am trying to attach a photo – these are Tagore’s letters to his friends, some are in English and some are in Bengali. Its interesting to read his works in Bengali as unlike common thinking a writer would be using complicated words and would make simple things complex – Tagore is a beauty in simplicity, I quite like this ‘school boy-ish’ expressions. Well, I know, you will say my command over Bengali isn’t great and that my 'Bangla' is rusted. But I find solace reading Tagore as he doesn’t mince words, he speaks the way I understand and I just feel he understands me so well :-) [that’s stretching things too far of course! Well, I am confessing my love for him unabashedly, and I don’t cringe!]

Oh, I realised this is gonna be the first post of 2014. So here’s wishing you all a very Happy New Year 2014. Hope this year brings all the joy, love and happiness in everyone’s lives and I surely hope to write many more posts this year and get a book published under my moniker. Amen!