Home is ...

I said before that to come back to things that never change give me a feeling of reassurance that I am home. Like, I know exactly which angle the orange sun beams would enter my room at 6:30 in the morning. I know how much of the tree would be visible if I sit as my study table. These are little things that make up the whole big situation. These are the things that bring me home.

Home isn't in the suburbs where the house (my in-laws house) is like visiting relatives. I never know that place. I can't walk down the stairs blindfold. I don't know the neighborhood. I can't tell the books in the book shelf by looking at just their spines. I don't know the neighbors. 3 days a year for 6 years only amounts to 18 days. That can't be compared to 23 years at a stretch and a month each year after that of living in my own house.

In the villages of Bengal, I am a complete stranger. However much I may like the glimpse of the rice fields or wonder at the experience of walking on the narrow divides through those fields at dusk when the cows return to their sheds, I don't belong there. I am a tourist who is seeking a new experience, who asks questions and takes photos.

I belong to Calcutta.

I belong to the place where there is noisy traffic, where the typical sound of banging on the sides of the buses and the conductor yelling "Howrah Howrah Howrah, Howrah jabe, khali bus" (empty bus, going to Howrah) wakes me up in the morning. Where Eden Gardens has a soft spot in my heart and I can't pass by the stadium without imagining the cricket shots being played there and the loud cheers that roll. How well we know where would be a good spot to sit in the stands where the Sun won't blaze throughout the day. We know that H block gives the best view and K block only gets the morning Sun and a little afternoon Sun. I belong to the afternoon walks to Lake and to Lake Market to buy little fancy things or eat from the road side vendors. And idle walk at Deshapriya Park while eating Jhaal-Muri and pointing out to Arnab where the cricket pitch is and telling him about the eternal rivalry between the two clubs there - Milan Samiti and DKS brings me back to home. I can see the spot where the big ferris wheel called Giant Wheel used to be placed at the Durga Pujo fair and where I shot balloons with an air rifle. I can see teenaged boys practicing their cricket shots and remembered my friends Sayan and Biswadeep as eighth graders right there. I belong to the crowds of Gariahat where vendors still cry - "Didi edike", "Didi ki lagbe?" (what can I get for you? Didi, come here) with an irritating yet friendly way. Even though I am familiar with many a shiny shopping mall, the colorful clothes and bright imitation jewelry never fail to attract me at Gariahat. There is a typical girly craving to buy everything accompanied by shiny eyes and a quick dig in the wallet.

Home is in eating the sharp spicy and tangy Phuchka dipped in tamarind water and in Kwality ice cream. It is in the smell of flowers of Lake Market on a sultry summer afternoon when the southern breeze starts blowing, in the sweetness of sandesh made with notun-gur and in the feeling that I am surrounded with lots of laughter and fun and people whom I love.

All thanks to Job Charnock for deciding to stop at this place for his mid-day break.

The kids who have it all

From the perspective of the worldly person, these kids have nothing. Most of them are orphans, almost all unwanted, some were actually deserted who were picked up from places like railway platforms, some were brutally treated by people in whose homes they worked as domestic helps. They barely have clothes on their backs, even the ones they have, barring one or two have been handed down, old and torn at places. They have no toys, they make their own toys with scraps of rubber bands, twigs, leaves and mud. They can't afford to eat many foods. And they don't have any wants.

They are happy.

I have never seen so many kids, ranging from toddlers to late teenagers live in such perfect harmony. The sounds heard were of laughter, songs and screams of joy. There wasn't a glum face to see, no fights or quarrels and no negativity. Everyone was busy according to his or her own level. The older boys were playing football, the younger boys got hold of a basketball which they used in place of a football in a smaller yard. The girls were playing some indigenous village game like hopscotch (which I later realized helps in balance, works out the core muscles and creates hand, eye, foot coordination and is not that easy when you have to hop on one leg on an uneven ground). They had a picnic on New Year's Day where the main attraction was cooking and eating in the open. The elders cooked the food, helped by the older girls. The boys created the open fire stove with bricks, the little ones brought wood and the others helped in preparing food. The best thing was that all the vegetables were grown by them. In a place where a bunch of women are working, people always think that there will be quarrels and misunderstandings, but all I saw was laughter and fun.

I have seen kids with literally room full of toys, I have seen six year olds who can't eat by themselves or pick on their food for hours without eating with a good appetite and then I have seen these kids. The ones who are undaunted by poverty, who have the will to excel in studies (and many of them have already). A cracked blackboard, a harmonium missing a few reeds, old ragged teddy bears can give them all the happiness they want. The boy who innovated a slingshot out of a twig and torn rubber bands has learned through his own experience that aiming at 45 degrees makes his shot go the farthest. He would shine much brighter in later life than the boy who only knows how to push a button on his police car to sound the siren. The little girl who uses her imagination to create a perfect scene with idols and their religious ceremony is indeed spending her time in a better way than the toddler gobbling TV shows for hours.

These kids are learning responsibility through their posts as "ministers". They have areas to look after like managing school stationery, making sure everyone drinks the right amount of water throughout the day, cleaning rooms and bathrooms, looking after the guests, presiding over physical training and even baking cakes with the bare minimum resources.

Seattle seems a place too far off from here. There wasting food after being served a huge portion in the name of avoiding contamination is widely prevalent, here if these kids waste a single bite they have to clarify why. They do chores without being paid any allowance. They only get to watch TV on Sundays for a couple hours and even then they only watch channels like Discovery, Animal Planet and sports. They play out in the open, they swim in the pond and exercise by dancing. And even though they are very honest about their past lives - like many of them don't know their birthdays, or know that they have been deserted by families, they have now got what true unconditional love is.

If you are interested in knowing more about them, please contact Mr. Balaram Karan (phone:+91 99326 71081) of the orphanage Antyoday Anath Ashram.

The well loved house

I strongly believe that those people are truly blessed who still have their childhood home to come back to every year and if that is the ancestral home, then they are double blessed. Which, definitely is the case for me. In this 88-year old yellow brick house, I feel like a load is taken off me the moment I enter through the dark green heavy wooden door right under where the house number 125 is embossed.

I don't know what goes into making a house, but when it comes to making a home for five generations, I think our house has all the necessary ingredients. I am not sure how many houses in Calcutta are this well loved. How many houses of this stature exist in the city today anyway? The solid 25 inch brick walls have the capacity to shelter us from anything the world might throw at us. Those shiny red floors can brighten every spirit. To run up and down the stairs, to touch the railings and trace the shapes that they make, to spin those little things that are supposed to hold a window open once more gives me the feeling that the house is welcoming me home. I know that I can still walk blindfold all the way up the stairs to the third floor. My brain has it mastered so well. The familiar gong of the wall clock is so reassuring. That clock is also giving perfect time for almost a century now.

To come back here is to become my carefree self once more. The biggest decision I have to take now is how to decorate the Christmas tree and what ornaments to buy for it. Everything else is taken care of.

Do you remember those cordless phones? How they could be taken anywhere all around the house, but at the end of the day they were put on their cradles to be recharged? My home is like that. Wherever I may travel and roam, I need to come here for some time to get recharged.

"Wind in their hair and mud on their boots"

Of the things that please me, one of my dearest favorites is a pair of muddy hiking boots that I take off my tired feet. I did not know the pleasures of hiking until I got married and settled in Washington. The "upper left" corner (as one of my friend calls this state) of this country is a beautiful place, especially if you love Nature then you wouldn't need to look too far. Beautiful green trails attractive all year round with meadows of wild flowers, misty mountains, rain on fern leaves, ice crystals and the crunch of fall leaves under your boots will be enough to lift your spirits. I am so glad that REI tried to get everyone outdoors on the day of Black Friday. Instead of doing rounds in the shopping mall and spending money on a bunch of crap, they tried to make people go and enjoy things that come for free and actually do you good. And I can't be more grateful to have a partner who shares my enthusiasm in roaming in the wild, that the sight of a lake at the end of the hike is more attractive to him than an expensive leather jacket.

I have some dream hikes in my bucket list -

1. Wonderland trail - hike/backpack for 12-15 days. A trail that encircles Mt. Rainier.
2. Machu Picchu Inca trail - following Hiram Bingham to the "Lost City of the Incas"
3. African Safari - to the land where wild animals roam free....
4. Mount Kilimanjaro climb - to the Mountain of the Moon
5. Iceland winter adventure - maybe to find the center of the Earth?
6. And last but not the least - Mt. Everest base camp

It is difficult to explain what is so fascinating about Nature. I know of some people who (sadly) do not get inspired by Nature. One person went to the amazing Hoh Rainforest in Olympic National Park and asked his friend "ok I see the trees, now what? Do I expect the trees to dance for me?" No, they won't. The mountains won't join in a chorus, neither would the river beat the drums... actually things will be very quiet and you will hear the chirping of birds, the boom of a thunderous waterfall before you actually turn the bend and see one. If you hike along the ocean, you would take your time to see the different sea weeds and the strange and unique shape of driftwood. The main thing is to slow down. I am a goal motivated person, so sometimes I have the tendency to keep walking with the end of the trail in mind. That feeling of achievement is good, but hiking isn't a competitive sport. You don't have to prove anyone anything. Last week, this mentality made me walk past beautiful ice crystals without noticing them. Good that Arnab was behind me and he pointed them. Later I intentionally slowed down to admire the mushrooms growing on stumps of fallen trees.

Long back I received four books by National Geographic specially created for young explores. I am so glad that my uncle gave those to me, because growing up in a city in India, it would have been very difficult for me to learn to admire the little things Nature offer. The books - "Creatures of the woods" and "The World beneath your feet" had opened my eyes to look at this world from a different perspective. It taught me to love animals (despite their looks) and to make me aware of a vast and beautiful Nature.

Skinny shaming

"Do you buy your clothes at the kids department?"
"Your bones would make good toothpicks."
These have been comments that I am very familiar with. People have grabbed my wrists to show how small they are, some have also grabbed my neck to show how small it is. I have been asked why I need to work out and yes, many times I have been told to eat more or else I would be blown away by the wind. I have got many comments on photos posted on Facebook saying I look skinnier than before. The best part is when I visit India (almost annually) the same set of people ask me if I have lost more weight than the previous year. I wonder if there was any time in history when they have seen me as anything else but skinny. The fact that I am probably much healthier and have more energy than my so-called curvy counterparts escape people. Then there are some who just can't believe if I do gain weight. Even if I tell them that I have grown out of my clothes, they will confidently say that the cotton clothes have shrunk.

Why is it not ok to fat shame people even when they are using the word "fat shaming" as an excuse to lead unhealthy lifestyles but it is ok to skinny shame someone who eats healthy and is a regular hiker? No I am not "lucky", I don't starve, I am not "on a diet", it is in my genes to have a faster metabolism. You can be jealous that I drink whole milk and don't gain a pound but there is nothing that you (or I) can do about it.

It is mean to make fun of anyone's weight. I understand that people might not be meaning any harm, but a constant reminder that "you need to gain weight in order to look pretty" doesn't do good for a girl's confidence. I know very well that shopping for a watch or a bracelet is difficult. I know that there are very few clothes that I can wear (thanks Ann Taylor for your petite section). These are reminders enough and I don't need your snarky comments to add to that. I am lucky to not let these things matter and I was unfamiliar with the term negative body image until in my late twenties but considering the general population, skinny shaming can be as bad as fat shaming. If you really find someone starving herself or not eating properly explain to her why an optimum body weight matters. Yes, I am trying to gain weight, not because it will make me look nice but because I need to maintain an optimum weight in order to stay healthy as I age. I am eating well, at regular times and yes, I can indulge myself with chocolate croissants and hot chocolate if I want to without any worry. If you try to shame me because you are jealous about it, sorry! One of my friends said that it is a coping mechanism of unhealthy overweight people. I agree with her, especially after I have heard people tell me, "I used to be like you before having kids" with a sigh. But hey, you know what, my mom is still pretty slim after having me so sorry if I disappoint you by staying slim even after having kids.

Why I brought this topic up today?
1. I feel it is unfair to make anyone feel bad about the way she looks.
2. It is even more unfair when you can't call a fat person fat but can easily shout out to a skinny person from across the room telling her to eat another sandwich.
3. A healthy mind in a healthy body is all that matters.
4. I will be going to India soon and woe to that person who greets me with a "did you lose more weight?" comment this time. This is a fair warning.

Reunion!

Last Friday I was eating an Indian pizza from CanAm. When I bit into the butter chicken topping, my brain was expecting the taste of naan or porota with it, but it actually was the pizza base! It took my brain a fraction of a second to actually process the taste. The same thing happened on Saturday when I watched the All Stars cricket match between Sachin's blasters and Warne's warriors at the Dodger Stadium in LA. When the commentators were saying that it is from LA or when they were talking about the previous matches in Houston and NY, my brain processing took longer. I was expecting places like London, Sydney, Calcutta, Mohali, Lahore or could be even Dhaka, but Los Angeles!!!

You can see the edge of the baseball diamond at the end of the pitch

Cricket is something I grew up with, and most of the cricketers in the All Stars series are like old friends. Actually, I can remember their first names and faces better than I can of my old classmates. I also still remember their unique styles like Murali's eyes when he is about to bowl, Jonty's amazing dives, Shoaib's capacity to run from almost the edge of the field... pleasant memories I should say. When the players retired, of course nobody thought that we would see them again in action, and that too here in the US! It was really a dream come true.

I don't know what the best part was - it was our favorite players in action, it was fun knowing that the idea came to Sachin and Shane (Warne) and they basically called their buddies from across the globe to form the two teams, it was also the creative idea that a baseball field could very easily be turned into a cricket ground! I really liked it when the baseball comments were flashed on the giant screen during the cricket match. When there was a no ball, it read "Free hit". When Laxman missed a catch, "butterfingers" was flashed. They didn't have any when sixes were hit, so they showed "home run". Well, that works. It is the spirit that counts.

It was amazing to see the crowd comprise of people of our generation from all the cricket crazy nations. Where flags of India and Pakistan could be seen next to the Union Jack, when Sangakkara was thrashing the bowlers Sri Lankan flags waved and Indian flags waved too! In the All stars game it was difficult to really choose a team to support, though of course Sachin's team was our favorite, it still felt good when the other team did well. With Shoaib Akhter and Moin Khan on "our side" the line between the "sides" really got blurry. I heard Moin Khan shout out to Virendra Sehwag who was coming to bowl about where Muralitharan is positioned "oye, Murli zyada door ho gaya" ("Murali is way too much on the outside"). Seeing Shoaib chit chat with the other players and take selfies with the spectators opened my eyes. From time immemorial we have religiously hated the Pakistani cricket team. But is there any reason to do so? It was a moment of introspection for me that Akram, Shoaib and Moin Khan are just the same cricketers as Sachin, Sourav and Rahul. Putting them on "our side" really was a learning experience for me. The commentators also spoke like they are sitting in someone's living room. There was such a relaxed atmosphere all around that I think I enjoyed watching this match much more than a real professional one. There was another unique thing of the players speaking from the ground while the match was on. I guess it will never be possible to do at a real match because you'd lose concentration if you play and talk, but for this match it just worked fine. The frisky Jonty Rhodes was running, talking and throwing the ball at the same time :)

On a broader scale, this looked to me like a sharing of culture. The new generation of sub-continentals came to see the match, there were American friends and spouses of South Asian cricket fans, Hollywood stars came too... in the heartland of America comes a new sport. When the balls were hit high and they were making their way to the galleries, I could see the writing Dodgers with the star spangled banner next to it. A cricket ball going past the US national flag? Well yeah, that could be the beginning of a whole new era!

Live from LA!!

PS: We ordered a cricket bat on Amazon and it has arrived today. A new era of us playing cricket in USA will also start at home!

Stop getting offended

Recently, being politically correct is a huge thing because apparently people are getting offended by everything! At my previous workplace we were not allowed to put up a Christmas tree because it might offend people of other religions (though I personally don't know of a single person who said he/she will be offended by a harmless tree). We were not allowed to write "Christmas spirit" in a poster created for a toy drive, we had to write "holiday cheer". Public schools are trying to ban the word God from everything. On the other hand, a poor red paper cup has created a turmoil because Starbucks decided to do away with the holiday symbols and go with a solid color.

If you really understood what Jesus taught, a red cup wouldn't be able to shake your faith. I think that if a certain paper cup has the ability to fluster you, then you need to introspect and rethink about your relationship with God. Same goes for all those people who are offended by other people's religious beliefs. I went to a Catholic school. I had tons of classmates who were Hindu, Muslim, Buddhist, Sikh and Jain. We all attended the prayer every morning and recited the Lord's prayer. None of our family got offended. None of them kicked up any row that we are being "converted" and till date, I guess all of us have a wonderful relationship with Jesus (even if we still belong to other religions). We celebrated Eid with our Muslim friends, got gifts from them and their moms sent all the amazing food for us to share. In Calcutta, since Durga Pujo is a big event, my friends from all religions and cultures enjoyed it with us. It is so silly to get offended and stay in your own bubble when you can go and enjoy all sorts of festivals with all sorts of friends.

Human beings, here's my plea to you - please stop looking at everything through a lens of politically correctness. If you truly have that much extra energy, go spend it on something worthwhile. There are major issues in the world that would appreciate your help. Go fix the Syrian refugee problem, or go help provide food and medicine in Afghanistan. Find a way to bring water in Africa in the summer heat. Find a solution to controlling population in Asia. And if you can't do any of these, then keep your mouth shut and don't add to the problems already existing in the world.