Himalayas - the abode of snow

To be a true Bengali, you have to visit Digha, Puri and Darjeeling (বাঙালির দৌড় দীপুদা পর্যন্ত ). Strangely, even though I am a very true Bengali, I have not been to Digha, nor was Darjeeling my first trip to the Himalayas. It was at Shimla, or better still on the train ride from Kalka to Shimla where I got a glimpse of what the Himalayas truly mean.

Mt Everest raising his head at 8848 mts.

Himalaya is a Sanskrit word meaning the abode of show (hima = snow, alaya = home). Starting from the lush green forests of Terai and Dooars, you come to meet the foothills of Shivalik (meaning the tresses of Lord Shiva. alak/alik = tresses). Further north starts the Himalayas and even north is the Himadri (meaning mountain of snow, adri = mountains). Spanning over 1500 miles from west to east, stretching from the Pamir Knot in the north west to the Tibet-Arunachal Pradesh in the east, it is unbelievable that this massive mountain system consisting of so many eight-thousanders was well under the Tethys Sea before India broke loose from the African landmass (Gondwanaland to be more precise) and rammed into the Eurasian plate. I love Geography so I wonder about this a lot. I tried to go over the entire event with Arnab but it just blew me off!!

It's not just the scenic part that I love most about these mountains, but it's a philosophy somewhere I can't really explain that makes me think and feel good. Perhaps that's why our mythological gods decided to live there. (No wonder. I would have wanted to do the same if I were a goddess!) The Himalayas are sacred to Hindus. Why wouldn't it be? All our live giving, civilization creating rivers originate from there. Manas Sarovar in Tibet, gave rise to both Brahmaputra and Indus from opposite sides of the lake. Those rivers charted out their courses and Pakistan and Bangladesh are thriving because of them. Ganga, Yamuna, the 5 famous tributaries of the Indus (from which the name Punjab originates. Panch = five, ab/ap = water) - Jhelum (Vitasta), Chenab (Chandrabhaga), Ravi (Iravati), Beas (Bipasha), Sutlej (Shatadru) and many more tributaries of the Ganga and Yamuna originate. Together they have given rise to the great plains of the north, famous for its rich lands for cultivation. Well, it's all because of the Himalayas.

If it weren't for this mountain range, all the Arctic winds from north Russia would blow over India and the rain causing clouds would fly off to the north. India would turn into a barren land. There is no end to our gratitude for the Himalayas.

One early October afternoon in 1994, I was sitting on the terrace of Keventer's in Darjeeling and sipping on chocolate milkshake when following my mom's excited shouts, I saw the entire range of Kanchenjungha slowly emerging out of the clouds in front of my eyes! The next morning my mom and I were racing down Darjeeling mall to catch a glimpse of the same range during sunrise. I saw the snow capped eight thousander go from grey to pink and then shining golden as the sun rose. It's one of "those moments" for sure.

I can write pages about the Himalayas. How we stayed at a village at the border between India and Tibet at an elevation of 11,000 feet, the hiking trip from there to the border, walking up to Jakhu hills full of mischievous monkeys near Shimla... the lush evergreen forests near Narkanda, the mountain streams and tiny waterfalls at every turn of the road...collecting "bhurjopatro", talking to Buddhist monks on their way to Tibet...Sutlej flowing at top speed, rushing past human worlds on her way to meet Indus, with snow capped ranges in the background...all these make you pause... and think...

It reminds me of what Rabindranath said - "I asked the Ocean, what are your saying? The Ocean replied, I have too many questions. I asked the Mountain, what are your thoughts? The Mountain just remained silent as ever." 

PS: Please excuse my translation. I hope I got the point right.

Cricket - the noble game

One of the earliest memories I have of myself, I remember watching cricket. It was during 1987 when I was a kid of merely 3 years. Coming from a family of cricket lovers and cricket players, this is quite natural I guess. My old pictures show me playing with a plastic cricket bat and ball too :-)

Talking about the cricket I watched during '87, I very well remember that my idea of cricket at that time was that the game is played with one batsman, one bowler and one umpire! (The people I could see on TV most of the time). Also, when my family went to see the '87 world cup matches at Eden Gardens they brought back lots of sun hats for me. Those colorful paper hats with elastic strings for support are fondly intertwined with my early memories of cricket.

"Discipline thru cricket"

From the Benson and Hedges world cup of 1992 I was a regular cricket fan. We had cricket matches on our terrace in the afternoon and I started keeping a scrapbook of cricket pictures and news. I think that was the only time I supported Pakistan (ever!) as they were Asian as opposed to England. Also I started appreciating Vinod Kambli's style of game. His two double centuries (Telegraph reported - Kambli buried the ghost of Harare) and my fascination for left handed people made me quite his fan.

In the mean time I started reading more about cricket, watching more games. It is a standing verdict in our family that you need to watch test matches if you want to learn cricket. I picked up bits and pieces about the game everyday, from my father and uncles and mostly from my great uncle (mejdadu), the late Sourendra Nath Ghosh who was an avid player and long term president of a famous cricket club in Calcutta. Mejdadu's cricket stories mostly came in the form of funny anecdotes ("apology 5th year" was the greatest among them).

My first cricket coach was Basanta-da. He came as a domestic help to our family from some village in Orissa, but he stayed on to be my coach and a companion for my boyish activities for a while. That included cricket, flying kites, fireworks during Kali Pujo (Diwali) and the like. He taught me strokes like square cut and how to bowl off spin. When India won the 2011 world cup, I called him from here to share the celebrations!

Watching cricket matches, be it at the ground or on TV was simply AWESOME with our family. I very well remember the 1996 quarter final between India and Pakistan. How we were all shouting when India batted first, encouraging for 5 more runs, and then 5 more....Kakabhai's short sharp yell "BOWLED" when Pakistan lost Saeed Anwar (or maybe the other opener) made us fly downstairs in a matter of seconds...all still ring in my memory.

By that time I became fan of Aravinda de Silva (my teenage hero). When Sri Lanka came to play Pakistan at Eden Gardens on May 27, 1997 for the second final of the Indian Independence Cup, I had to call Kakabhai at his work (his office was at the famous Tata Center) and ask him to take me to the match. So pampered was I, that Kakabhai came home from there and took me to Eden Gardens!!

That gate and block our annual members tickets took us to

I played some cricket in school and barely some in college. It's a pity that girls' cricket is not even 10% popular compared to the men's. However, I had the chance to experience women's world cup at Eden Gardens. That was in '97 as well, at the end of December. Bundling up in the morning, I went to see the match with my mom. That day, only women were allowed at the stadium! I saw the legendary Belinda Clark in action....what a woman!!! The only person so far to score 227 in a match.

A friend of my dad suggested I should take up cricket. He said I could play club cricket as a hobby. (Perhaps he was impressed at my knowledge, I don't know), but with my school leaving and engineering entrance (HS-JEE) exams round the corner, cricket was not an option to be considered. That's my only regret in this life - I wanted to play cricket on the lush green grounds with a real willow and leather!

I hate the IPL. I hate Facebook being flooded with inhuman praise about some player one day and unbelievable cursing the next. I hate cricket being brought down as a marketing commodity. What I hate most is film stars and industrialists "owning" teams!! I don't have words enough for hating them. In my mind's eye (I am so grateful that nothing can do anything to it) I always see the cricketers as they play test matches.

Even though I watch super bowl and (sometimes) stop by the TV at our office break room to see Seattle Mariners or Sounders at play, the snow white clad cricket players with typical V-necked sweaters, bright read leather ball and seasoned willows have got instilled somewhere deep. If I am not too attentive, the occasional stroke of a Mariner player suddenly reminds me of cricket, a couple of days back Arnab and I were discussing about top spin, googly and doosra....it stays on, somewhere.

Summer

Hailing from a humid land almost in the tropics, I shouldn't have any reason to celebrate the fact that summer is here. Early memories of summer always include sticky humid climate, the sun shining at full voltage, power cuts, turning in my sleep on a bed as hot as a toaster... the evenings were a little better with the cool breeze from the Bay of Bengal. On the whole, nothing to be happy about by any means.

Board walk near our neighborhood

Western Washington, on the contrary, is notorious for being wet, soggy wet. If you have watched "Sleepless in Seattle" you would know what I mean. My well meaning professors cautioned me about Seattle's rain when they heard I was moving there after graduating. Even the judge who presided our wedding made sure I know that it rains for nine months here (before the ceremony!). So you get my point...in a place like this gives me enough reasons to be crazy happy when I wake up in the morning and see the sun shining on the distant row of houses!

Slough

According to Arnab, in summer he feels like "the sun is rolling on the ground" - "সূর্য তা মাটিতে গড়াগড়ি দিচ্ছে " . I am not very sure what exactly he means by this, but hearing him say this excitedly for quite a bit makes me think that maybe he is just too happy that it is sunny and warm! 

For more than a week now we are waking up amidst bright sunshine. The sky is cornflower blue without a single wispy cloud. Mt Rainier and Mt. Baker can be seen from long distances, their snow caps shining brightly in the golden sun while the North Cascade and Olympic ranges surround us from all sides. Lake Washington is glistening like molten gold. The foliage around our commonplace I-5 and I-405 are rich green. Cherry blossoms have called it a day (or a year) but the green of the leaves are competing hard with the evergreen pines and firs.

Seattle basking in the summer sun

You will hear the low drone of lawn mowers from every other house in the neighborhood. The air smells of fresh cut grass. On our after-lunch walks from work, we find people working in their yards, tending to bright flowering plants. The season for tulips and daffodils is over, but rhododendrons have taken up the torch from them. I am looking forward to more dinners on the porch and walks after dinner with the sun not setting until 9:30 or 10 :-)

When it is not drizzling, Washington can be heavenly....with the evergreen trees' slender tops close against the azure sky I am happy to call "Washington my home".

Sarod concert at Seattle

So strange...so utterly crazy... that this day has come when I, of all people, am writing something related to Indian classical music!!!

Well, there's reason for me acting so crazy because there's a standing joke in my family that I cannot distinguish between a sitar and a sarod (probably can't between a piano and a flute or a drum either). I never had anything to do with Indian classical music, any form of dance or any musical instrument. So when I bought tickets to attend a sarod concert at Seattle Town Center, it was strange.

That day finally dawned and after a full day's work I went to the concert with Arnab. It was Ustad Amjad Ali Khan's concert and so you can well imagine the standard of it. The first piece was really nice, but the second, a composition on the raag Malhar absolutely threw me off! I was listening with my eyes closed and with the tabla sounding at 16-matra I could very well hear the pitter-patter of falling rain drops! What a masterpiece! Then came Kaafi, the raaga for holi and a nice blending between "Ekla cholo re" and a tune from Assam's Bihu. By the interval I could already visualize Tansen at Fatehpur Sikri :-)

After the interval came Ustad-ji's sons Amaan and Ayaan. I at least knew about Ustad ji from my birth, but the boys being my contemporary I had no clue to what they are and how well they can play. What impressed me was not just their lineage, but also how disciplined and traditional they are! Amaan is no doubt a budding maestro. The town hall was reverberating during his jhaala and the crowd burst in applause. Ayaan, on the other hand, didn't sound that vigorous, but he has a nice melodious style. He was playing around subtleties with a wonderful style.

I will come back to the story of the concert in a bit, but before that I want to rant about some things that I didn't like in the society I grew up in. It is good to revere classical music, but not to the point that makes it inaccessible to people. People talk about "understanding classical music and raagas". I never really got to the position to "understand" them, so I never learned about raagas and as a result I fell out from enjoying the music just as a piece of nice sounding music. On the other hand, no one ever told me anything about western classical music, so I listened to those just like that. As a result I became quite aware of Beethoven's symphonies and now can tell which one is which easily. Vivaldi's Four Seasons easily bring up the seasons in my mind's eyes and I still believe if the human race had no other piece of music, but just the Moonlight Sonata, it would still be enough for me. I am happy to realize that I am not deaf to music after all.


Ustad Amjad Ali Khan with the young maestros Amaan and Ayaan at the Seattle Town Hall. 05/11/12.

Coming back to the concert, the last two pieces were performed by all three of them. Ustad ji was playing a piece and Amaan, Ayaan with the two men on table were all playing in jawab. What a marvelous performance!!! The final raaga they played was Kirwani. All these raagas were Hebrew to me, but I still could appreciate the music.

We both were so moved by this evening that we promptly bought a CD of sarod played by them. I will have to learn about Indian classical music now. A friend of mine has commented now my liking for the Indian and western classicals would be balanced. I think so too :-)

We are planning to listen to Darbari Kanada at the dead of the night tonight. Let's see how that goes!

What's in a name?

You ask "what's in a name?" and then proceed to tell me the fact about rose and it being sweet smelling, etc etc etc...yes I know that. If "rose" was called "foobar" from the beginning of time I would be totally happy to say "foobar is my favorite flower" and that "I got 16 pink foobars on my birthday"! That's ok. I don't mind that.


What I do mind is when names of human beings get messed up.


There are so variations in names. For some people, every information about their family and ancestral village is in their names. Take for example, the Sri Lankan pace bowler Chaminda Vaas. Do you know what his full name is like? It's this -
Warnakulasuriya Patabendige Ushantha Joseph Chaminda Vaas

For the Chinese, their family names come before their given names. Like Fa Mulan means she is "Mulan" from the "Fa" family. In some families in South India, one's father's name get added on and there is no last name as such. Some people have their father's or husband's name as the middle name. There can be so many things in names!

Also, some families like their kids to have elaborate or uncommon and unique ones. Some, on the other hand like short and sweet names that are easier to pronounce. In the US, it seems like all names get too short. Everyone had a formal given name but they don't go by those. James becomes Jim, Matthew is Matt, Ben never likes to be called Benjamin, Abigail is shortened to Abby and then further to Ab...!! So for someone with a Sanskrit name as myself it is really difficult.

The main problem with my name is the clash between Sanskrit and Bengali. It's written as Sayari but pronounced as Shayori or Shy-o-re. The mess is because in Sankrit we have the "S" pronunciation, but in Bengali that becomes "SH". Also, people who say "S" instead of "SH" in Bengali are laughed at. So by no means do I like the actual pronunciation of my name.

To talk of names, I do need to mention Bengali names. I think Bengalis are most innovative in naming their children and also try their best to be creative. The names which are still quite common in other parts of India have been eradicated from the Bengali name database almost a  century back. Liberals that we are, we hardly ever have names of gods and goddesses. Rabindranath paved the way for these creative names. Some of his creations which are widely used now are names like Amartya, Ajeyo and Sohini. Some names are concatenated from that person's parents names. That is also very nice. My cousin is named Dipanjan after his father Dipak and mother Anjana. Another relative is named Sambit as a combination between Soma and Amit. I love unique names. Oh, did I say they have to be Sanskrit as well? Yes, and should have meaning. Like this one - Devakalpa. That's one of the most awesome names I have ever heard. It befits the unique person who is named so :-)


I think people with uncommon names are very possessive about their names. I truly feel we should patent or copyright them. The idea of anyone else named Sayari makes me go mad!!! (No, I'm not being mean!) 


Source of image

Born as a girl, born fettered

I was thinking of writing something about Rabindranath as it was his 152nd birth anniversary yesterday. But then, late on Sunday evening I watched Aamir Khan's new TV show - Satyameva Jayate and that turned me upside down!

Probably many people are blogging about that episode as well, I do hope they are. I don't want to summarize what I saw there. You need to watch it for yourself. I'll write about what bothers me the most and if possible, how we can solve that (theoretically, I mean).

Female foeticide and infanticide are I think the most unkindest form of torture ever. For people who think abortion is a sin, what would they say about this? During abortion, at least the mother gets to decide (I am not going into if that's right or wrong) but in this case, she is unaware of the entire act. Also, pressurizing a mother to give up her baby and abusing her if she does not do that can be the ultimate form of domestic violence. We saw in Satyameva Jayate about the corruption amongst doctors, police and even the legislature but you know what? It's not the corruption that bothers me, but the inhuman behavior of the doctors, especially the women doctors that made me reel inside. How casually they were talking of foeticide!!

Like most people, I also had the wrong notion that these kinds of crimes are rampant in the lower strata, where people are illiterate, uneducated and have no idea of what they are doing. To my horror, I saw the case of the lady from Delhi whose so called "well educated" family tried to force her to abort her twin daughters and when they couldn't, they tried to kill one of the babies. On the other hand, tribal people, who never have any formal education, never ever try to do these kinds of things. They rejoice over a newborn irrespective of its gender.

In societies where the birth of a boy is considered good and girls are still regarded as second class citizens, even in the 21st century, what do we do?

We need a strong non-corrupt government that will punish the offenders. By punishment I do not mean a mere fine, I mean imprisonment for life. Some exemplary punishment will scare the criminals. Other than that, we need to instil this idea in everyone that boys and girls are same. How to do that?

Even now, there are so many families that don't really treat their daughters in a similar fashion with their sons. I personally know of many girls who are taught to have a dependent status. They are very well cared for by their parents, they have the best education that their parents can provide for, but when it comes to getting a job or get married, the parents would want them to get married first and then choose a job or go abroad. Why so? Do they tell their sons to get married first and then go abroad? Why do people still give dowries? How can they complain of domestic violence when they have themselves bent down to the wishes of the marital family and provided the dowry? Why couldn't they nip it in the bud and take their daughter back home? Society, they would say would frown upon their divorcee daughter. What is better - a divorced daughter staying at home or a married daughter murdered at the in-laws house?

We can't expect girls to stand up against all wrongs if they don't have any support from their families. Neither can they take any rebellious stance if they were always taught to have a subservient status. Girls need to be taught, from the earliest time possible, to be self-sufficient. Economic independence is the first thing and with that would come emotional independence.

Rabindranath talks about Justice as the Divine Command. We all have our own work to do. When forgiveness is an act of the coward, let us be ruthless in punishment. It is sinful to bear with torture as it is to oppress others.

We have a long way to go, a long battle to fight. But think of the oppressed people the world over. Think of the revolutions in France, China and Russia. Think of the African slaves who were treated in the worst way anyone can think of. They have conquered from that situation and have slowly but steadily got their equal status. Everyone has overcome. So shall we. Do not be afraid, you don't have anything to lose but your chains!

007 license to drive

Being the evangelist for freedom that I am, my freedom was constrained for a long time in the absence of a license to drive. I badly needed a driving license!

It is not my first one. I had my driving license in India but the less I talk about it, the better! A coworker of mine asked me if we need license to drive in India. I decided keeping quiet should be better than explaining what I was tested on there. (I was asked to drive around a park, all left turns and was done! No hand signals, no written test, nothing!)

This one was much different. With my trainer at home freaking out and almost fainting the moment I touch the steering, or trying to help me by suggesting my every move from how much to push the gas pedal or pointing out that the light has turned green, I had a hard time practicing. The cops came to the rescue!! By cops I mean real cops, but driving teacher cops. They had immense faith in me and high hopes for me, which finally led to me practising in a church parking lot how to reverse and get into a parking slot and from there to normal city driving amidst heavy traffic, parking up and down hills and the like. It was good, it gave me a lot of confidence. More than that, it gave Arnab confidence enough to let me drive to Costco or Fred Meyers!
Finally, it was time enough to give it a try. I was taken to the DOL and a grumpy faced lady came to ask me the hand signals, tested if the indicators and brake lights were ok and finally got into the car. (Actually, before she got in, the passenger side door was locked and instead of unlocking it, I promptly rolled down the window :P) Anyway, she told me to drive out of the DOL parking lot and my skill test started.
I am not an over cautious person by nature, but during the drive test I tend to be one. I turned the signals on, looked both ways and then made turns. A colleague told me to "make exaggerated looks over the shoulder" and not a casual glance, so that the examiner knows that I am looking over the shoulder. I followed that. Then there were the complete stops at stop sign, count 1-5 and then go. Yes, I checked that off my list as well.

I was a bit worried about reversing round the corner. I still do not know why anyone with a sane mind would ever want to back round a corner. The example they give is backing out of an alley or a driveway. Personally for me, I would never buy a house with such a strange driveway! Anyway, as the rule goes - one can never argue with an examiner. So I didn't say anything and started to look at my side mirror and out of the back window and reversed round the corner of a neighbourhood road. I was happy when I could see the curb through my side mirror so I knew I was not going farther off than 18 inches.
Changing lanes is something that worries me most. It doesn't just depend on me but also on the drivers of the cars around me. Luckily, the place was not crowded at that time of the afternoon and also as I was in a driving school car, I guess those drivers wanted to keep a safe distance! (Who wouldn't with a student driver?) So that went well too.
Finally I came for parallel parking. It's not as difficult as students think it to be. You need to know what you are doing and which move of the steering would move the car in what way. You turn the steering all the way to the right, back up until you turn 45 degrees, back up straight into the slot and then straighten yourself up in the slot. When I did this right, I knew I was through!
I had to get in a normal parking slot after that and the examiner explained to me where I scored and where I lost points. Finally the verdict was "you qualified"!!
So now I get to join the millions of women drivers around the world!
[PS: My picture on the drivers license is not THAT BAD :)]