09.23 the swastika, a hijacked symbol

so i was reading some "fashion" blog this morning - rare for me - and came across a post blog called "zara swastika bag" that immediately caught my attention. as a girl who likes a good bag, i was a little excited to see it adorned with the ancient symbol of peace and prosperity.

i looked at the bag and noticed immediately the swastika symbol on the left side.

as i read the comments on the bag-blog, i recognize how the pain that the symbol would cause to jews in the west, where the bag was to be sold. but i was a little struck how nobody recognized that there are also hundreds of millions of indians, in particular hindus, buddhists, and jains live in the west as well. to this day, they still use the swastika for peace, prosperity and good luck.

in fact, the swastika was used all over the world, pre-dating christianity in europe, in native american tradition, and even as far back as the bronze age. only in the last 80 years has it come to mean something entirely different, all thanks to nazi propaganda.

but this "symbol hijacking" was no mistake. the nazis intentionally took an emblem that was used by non-germans on the most holy and celebratory occasions and turned it into an icon of racism and horror, obliterating or reversing its original meaning and turning the world against the people (evidently non-german people) who had been most known to use it in the first place.

in the west (and perhaps also among america-followers living in the east), the swastika's original beauty and true meaning will forever be marred by thoughts of the nazi regime, white supremacy, racism and the holocaust.

because of the commotion it caused - and to avoid the even more commotion it would have caused, zara, spanish retailer and the purchaser of the bag have pulled it before it hit stores.

chances are, the negative connotations of the swastika will be doomed to follow us for years to come.

ironically, the bag is kind of cute.

08.30 young, gifted and brown 6.0

wow i really needed a good laugh tonight.

i think i have that indian gene in me, the one that says, "vell, if yooou are feeeeling sad, then goh-to-the theeeatar and votch a filum!!!".

yeah, i seem to lose myself in youtube instead. i drown my sorrows in russell... he always comes through.

07.31 reintegration

i just found my old notebook from my trip to india... i wrote this while on my way back to canada... and reading it now just makes me want to go back!!

going to india was like removing the vaccuum seal.

ffffftp!

off it goes... and you breathe. you expand. you feel something in the air.

india touches. it is absorbed.

india... once known, will never leave you.
it's the muslim call to prayer before even the sun wakes
the flash of a woman's eyes as she mentally chastizes you for baring your calves
the smoke billowing from an offering to a god of mythic proportion
the poverty in the streets, the desire to earn a decent living, the need to survive
the constant yearning for something more grand, more meaningful than what you've got

india is like an eternal movement....
all set to a bollywood film soundtrack

you can leave, but india never leaves you.

07.14 clickety-click, marriage trick

ok... so i haven't posted in a long time... but there are reasons...

i work hard and i play hard... and then there is the thing about all the indian weddings to attend. they are 4-5 days long each... mehendi parties, sangeets, chundadi and other ceremonies, the weddings themselves (and it's very common to have two, especially to satisfy both families if it's an interfaith wedding), and receptions... thinking back to december 13th in india (there were 36,000 weddings in dehli that day!!) many of them were arranged.

i have told this to people before (they may still think i'm nuts, but) to me, arranged marriages have a bad rep.

probably because they are confounded with "forced marriages", where parents choose a partner for their child based purely on family connections, caste, class, and social mobility created through the match. the match is usually made before the kids turn 10 years old! when it's time, they get married. no excuses.

conversely, the "arranged marriage" is a lot more civilized: the match uses the same selection criteria but the kids are introduced to each another, spend time together and ultimately get to choose whether to marry each other or to "veto" each other! there is some major pressure there, but who lives without pressure?!

when i tell you i'm ok with arranged marriages, most of you think i'm koo-koo. but to explain: the idea is for the parents to make the best possible connection in terms of security and family ties for the family, for their children and their futures. i understand that. and.... in my personal example, i get along with my parents! i like them. we don't always see eye to eye on everything. but i know, if we lived in a culture where arranged marriages were the norm, given the choice, my parents would choose very well for me.

of course, i say this, hoping they aren't reading this post! at least i hope not!!

check this out! if only it could be this simple!



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06.24 nelly doing lata

this was my favourite song when i was a kid. i'd sing it *everywhere*...
it was a highly popular song by lata mangeshkar (she and asha bhosle are sisters) - just ask any indian person on the planet born after 1970 and they will know it. ok, except for the dunce in the first row in this video.

nelly does it very well, despite mixing up "baanayaa" (created) with "bhulayaa" (forgot) and only knowing the first couple of lines.

lyrics:
kabhii kabhii mere dil mein
khayaal aata hai
ki jaise tujhko banaaya
gaya hai mere liyee

my attempt at rhyming while translating...
sometimes the feeling from my heart
crosses through my mind
that you have been created
to only be mine


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06.03 khadi - the fabric of freedom

eight minute film that is worth every second... slow start but picks up suddenly.



ancient knowledge always amazes me...

06.02 take me to your thumbi

there's a delay on the audio...

05.27 of tiffins & telecoms

here's a lil excerpt from an e-mail to patrick on 01.13:

i got a chance to chat with a lunch delivery man the other day. these guys are incredible - deliver like 10,000 lunches each day. they get all the orders straight too. could you imagine if you had that kinda service in north america?

the tiffin men were incredible. patrick tells me it's their six sigma rating (fast and efficient). they were studied by multinational courier companies, who couldn't replicate their service levels. what's also interesting is their business model. each tiffin delivery man and each tiffin assembly woman is a shareholder in the company. it's in each employee's best interest to be efficient and exact. let's see if ups or fedex can match that.

it's because of cheap labour, and a huge workforce of largely poor and hungry which that india has been catapulting onto the world stage for the past few years in terms of business reach. arrey! national pride is lost to the savings from offshore labour. i once called air "canada" customer service, to get "rose" (aka 'rosina' from india) on the other end... not so canadian after all, eh? even the organization i work for was using a consultant who wanted us to outsource our fundraising calls!! i read in the times in india that two of the world's biggest companies: walmart and airtel (the world's largest telecom company) were signing a partnership.

but this progress comes with downsides and risks.

the economic divide is widening too fast. i was in a downtown mumbai dessert place with abbas one night. they wouldn't let a woman come in because she looked poor... just one of many times i witnessed bad class action. in most circumstances, a paying customer is always welcome. now india's rich (many of whom are not even indian) are getting richer, while the rest are left to their own devices. beggars even have become choosers. they will often pass up food and just ask for money.

what is scarier is the potential risk. the amount of foreign investment in india is at an all-time high. meaning that a large and growing proportion of india's population is reliant on this foreign interest. but how long can this last? it's only a matter of time before india's workforce gets up to market, and when that happens, well all that foreign dough goes out the window and back home. leaving india's workforce in a lurch.

but for now the boom boom is india and india's where it's at.
check out the hindu business line article, in which jayati ghosh reports on the amount of foreign direct investment into india. the numbers speak to india's incredible labour force, from to tiffins to telecomms. oh, did i hear someone say re-colonialism??

05.26 the algoza: two-timing on the flute

i love this because he's not only playing two flutes at once, with different finger positions (we love that!) he's also inhaling and playing at the same time!

consider me "snake" charmed.

05.01 salima's kitchen diary

so i've started 'cooking lessons' with my mom... kinda like wok with yan but it's more like karhai with mum.

i may be a bit biased, but my mom is the greatest cook ever. this is why i have learned everything from grilled cheese to lasagna, but have never studied the art of indian cooking. no matter how well i did any dish, my mother could always do it better. and without instructions.

so on my path to perfection, i've finally decided to learn from the master, mummy-ji! only thing, she's a terrible cooking instructor.

see, my mom does not believe that there are two parts to cooking: gathering/preparation and cooking/assembly. rather, a pot with oil goes on the stove, max heat. the cupboard opens, she calls out the name of an aromatic spice. i locate the appropriate jar. i must measure it from the jar into the palm of my hand, with each of the spices she calls, successively dumping each handful into the pot when they reach the perfect measurement... and regardless of whether it's a few cinnamon sticks or a few fists of jeera powder going in, she always says sweetly each time, "juuuust a peench!". so much for measurements!

spices jam together in the pot, heat still at max, the intoxicating smell filling my nostrils... there are no ingredients on the countertop. i must bring tomatoes and onions from the fridge, dice them in seconds flat and dump them in the pot, before the spices burn.

there is always a time when the cupboard opens, and more "pinches" of the same spices get added to the pot. further confounding any attempt at measurement.

next i'm asked to retrieve veggies from the fridge, wash them and cut them directly over the pot, pronto. "um. mum. should we turn this down?" "no, bettah, it's okay." so again i'm wondering how all this happens without anything burning. but somehow the stuff cooks nicely and tastes great. by the end of it, my notes look like grade 11 algebra class. i need to bring the video cam out to the next class.

so far, i know how to make a killer curried spinach, curried shrimp, and an amazing eggplant curry. i'm so-so with veggie pilau, and want to try my hand at roti.

it also helps to know what the names of things are. sometimes she'll ask me to get "rai" out of the cupboard... and i'll be like, "ok is that mustard seed?"....

i found a pretty decent glossary in mamta's kitchen diary;

a few chosen translations here:

English Hindi
Amaranth (leaves or grain) Chauli, Chaulai, Chavlerr, Chowli, Chowlai
Anise seeds Saunf, Patli
Aniseed (see also saunf) Vilayati saunf
Asafoetida Hing or Heeng
Basil Tulsi
Bay leaf Tej Patta or Tez PattaBetel leaf Pan or Paan
Betel nut Supari/Chali/Chalia
Black Cumin Seeds Kashmiri Jeera, Shahi Jeera, Kala Jeera
Camphor Kapoor or kapur
Caraway Siya jeera
Cardamom Green Choti or green Ilaichi/Ellaichi
Cardamom Large-Brown or Black Illaichi/Elaichi Bari/Badi
Carom seeds Ajwain
Cashew nuts Kaju
Chilli Mirch
Cilantro Dhania
Cinnamon Dalchini or Darchini
Clarified butter Ghee
Clove Lavang
Cobra saffron Nag-kesar
Coconut Nariyal, Copra, Kopra
Coconut oil Narial ka Tael
Coriander leaves Hara dhania
Coriander leaves (English word) Hara Dhania
Coriander, Cilantro Dhania, Kothamalli
Cumin Jeera
Curry Leaves Curry Patta, Meetha Neem, Kari Patta
Dried ginger powder Sonth
Fennel Saunf, Moti (Shatphool or Dodda jeera)
Fenugreek leaves, dry Kasoori methi
Fenugreek Seeds Methi dana
Garlic Lahsun
Ginger Adrak
Ginger Powder Sonth or Saunth
Green cardamom Choti Ilaichi or elaichi
Hemp Bhang
Honey Madhu
Indian ice-cream Kulfi
Indian Wok Karahi
Juice Ras
Lemon Nimbu or Neembu
Lime Nimbu or Neembu
Liquorice Mulahati or Mulethi
Mint Pudina
Mustard seeds Rai or Sarson
Nigella or Onion seeds Kalaunji
Nutmeg Zaiphal
Oil Tel
Onion Pyaz
Poppy seeds Khas khas
Rose Gulab
Safflower Kusam or Kusumbo
Saffron Kesar or Zafran
Saffron Coloured Kesari
Salt Nimak
Sesame Til
Star Anise Anas phal
Sugar Shakkar
Tamarind Imli
Thyme Hasha
Turmeric Haldi or Huldi
Vegetable (generic) Sabzi
White pepper Safed mirch
Wok Kadhai

04.10 badi macchi, the whale shark

i just watched an incredible film called sharkwater last night...

the shark trade is a scary, scary thing. in the film, surrounded by sharks who nuzzle up to him like happy dogs, torontonian rob stewart, director of the film, reveals the shocking reality. only 5 deaths each year are attributed to sharks. ten times that are attributed to elephants. in fact, sharks aren't interested in eating people, they predate dinosaurs. they are docile and highly intelligent creatures possessing more senses than humans do. the oldest living predator on earth, and the most important predator in the sea, sharks are critical to the regulation of plankton, responsible for 70% of the earth's oxygen production.

the scary truth? only 10% of the earth's sharks remain. and they are in danger.

why?

largely due to the chinese delicacy, shark fin soup. i compare the soup to diamonds, a totally fabled luxury. falsely believed to contain healing powers, shark fins (and other parts) sell for a ridiculously inflated price. the soup sells for $200 per bowl, even though the fins have no taste whatsoever. chicken and pork are the flavouring agents. sharks are hunted around the world for their fins, a billion dollar industry, and a deathwish for anyone wanting to make a film exposing it.

i did a bit of digging and found that in india, shark liver oils are being used to preserve boats.

i found this good article about another film made about the shark trade - in india. the article is entitled, of sharks and bigger sharks, about mike pandey's film, shores of silence, nominated for the green oscar at the wildscreen 2000 festival:

The gut-wrenching film documents the slaughter and trade of whale sharks on the Western coast of India. And Mr Pandey is the first Indian film-maker ever to focus on a large marine species. ``The film which was shot under extreme conditions took almost three years to complete and aims towards creating policies to support a ban on the killing and trade of whale sharks in India as well as finding sustainable alternatives for the fishermen,'' says Mr Pandey.

...as a 10-year-old boy he had sailed from Africa to India by ship and throughout the voyage he was mesmerised by huge creatures that swam alongside the ship. ``Now nearly 40 years later, while shooting a film on coastal India in Gujarat, the memory of those creatures urged me to look for them again. I travelled all along the Gujarat coast asking fishermen if they knew of the badi machhi, the whale shark.''

But what Mr Pandey and his crew saw made them shrink in horror. And what started as a feel-good film on these gentle giants would turn out to be a tale of blood and gore. Hundreds of these sea giants are butchered on the shores of Western India every year. There is a great demand for shark meat and fins in South Asia. The oil from their livers is used to waterproof boats. Shaken by the senseless killings, Mr Pandey decided to make a feature film on these creatures. As the crew filmed in the area and met local people, the magnitude of the problem became clear.

Though the prime concern of Mr Pandey and his crew was the conservation of the shark, they saw a different aspect of the dilemma that ran deep into other issues concerning mainly the socio-economic status of fishing communities.

Shores of Silence makes an impassioned plea for the setting up of a whale shark sanctuary. Given the frequent sightings on the Gujarat coast, these waters are of international significance and declaring them as a sanctuary would help protect this vulnerable species. Fishermen could augment their income by doubling up as tourist guides for visitors eager for a shark sighting.

Mr Pandey is in his elements when he talks about what should be done to save whale sharks from perishing at the hands of mankind. Says he, ``The ocean is relatively a new horizon for humanity. Management of marine resources at this point is critical to avoid abusing what mistakenly appears to be a limitless resource zone.'' ``Man,'' he says, ``has interfered with nature's delicate balance. We have ruptured the system and if it continues, we may pay the price with our own extinction.''

copyright © 2001 indian express newspapers (bombay) ltd.

original article here

sharkwater is in theatres now. go watch it.

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04.08 young, gifted and brown 5.0

for those who don't know, russell now has a dvd called outsourced.

he has moved to america [sniff], performing sold out shows in major cities. canada wouldn't give him the break he needed though he rose to become the top canadian comedian over 15 years... he is coming home though! his sold-out canadian homecoming tour kicks off this spring. missed toronto tickets, but i'm hoping to see him in montreal july 20...

04.08 young, gifted and brown 4.0

his accents slay me!

these from the african continent!

russell peters on "!xobile":


russell peters on south africa, indian slaves:

04.08 young, gifted and brown 3.0

i've officially fallen from my chair.

check out russell peters's 'tap sum bong':

04.08 young, gifted and brown 2.0

more russell peters
apparently i haven't had enough of this guy!

russell on the english accent:

04.07 young, gifted and brown

so i've been a bit down lately...

i know. i'm me. i'm not supposed to be down. i'm supposed to be the happy bouncing boundless me. but yeah. even i get down sometimes. and if it was one problem, no sweat. but there are four major problems and without getting into details, let's just say they are all lingering, all out of my personal control.

so. today i took matters into my own hands. after all, my happiness is my responsibility, right! nobody is gonna make me happy but me. so i pulled up my laptop. i logged onto youtube. [yes i am a bit addicted to youtube!] and in the 'search' box, i typed in two words: russell peters

and bingo!

in seconds i was distracted. laughing so hard my stomach muscles were hurting. love this guy. and i love that he's young, gifted and brown.

russell on the indian accent. watch it now:

03.30 history of the world

sometimes i scour the internet for information about weird things. before i popped a dvd into my laptop, i randomly googled "condensed india history" and came up with A Condensed History of Everything.

876 CE: Some Indian invents the ZERO, making math homework even more difficult and frustrating. At this point in time, Christian Europe is home to the most degraded, least advanced, most backwards-ass civilizations on the planet.

i had no idea an indian invented the zero. or that the zero was that old!

....and now i'm thinking to myself: i never did find the condensed history of india.

03.25 from mississippi masala to new york namesake

i just came from watching mira nair's the namesake.

if her name sounds familiar to you, it should. she is the director of the highly popular films salaam bombay, mississippi masala, and more recently, monsoon wedding.

i had forgotten how visually stunning that film was. tonight was no different. nair blended incredible cinematography with a solid cast, a very realistic - and all too relate-able - storyline, and a brilliant soundtrack courtesy of none other than the man himself, nitin sawhney.

the namesake is the story of a young newly wed indian couple starting life in new york together, having two children who grow up as new yorkers, who in turn learn about their parents' culture as non resident indians. i was drawn into the story of their son gogol (also known as nikhil), who learns so much about his parents after a visit to india and the major life events that follow.

i have to say that the lead female in the film, ashima (played by tabu), was outstanding. she reminded me of my own mother. a certain type of indian woman has this unwavering grace, a type of elegance that transcends time and place. my mom has that same quality and it made me appreciate the film even more.

go see it. trailer:

03.18 the bates debate

i've been really really bad.

haven't done my eye exercises in more than a week, due to the same old same old thing: too busy, rushing around, don't have time etc. well. that's going to stop right now!!

i've been talking about the excercises called the "bates method" (discovered by william bates), which have make a remarkable impact on my vision and on that of thousands of people before me.

understandably, the scientific community cannot stand this. the entire vision care industry is at stake, including optometrists, glasses manufacturers, contact lens manufacturers, and the laser eye surgeons. all of these are very lucrative businesses. if what bates has discovered catches on, depite living proof like me, who have improved their eyesight past what anyone could imagine, the industries that cater to corrective eyewear will plummet.

i've found bates challenged all over the place, including this wiki entry.

two more of my friends have just finished their stay at the school for perfect eyesight in pondicherry and have also had incredible success in just a week of following very simple instructions twice a day. it does take some dedication but it works. hell even for me with me semi-dead-ication.

03.16 books on the brownside... back!

i've been doing some reading and am resurrecting "books on the brownside", a commentary i used to write on indian literature. although i think i only had about three entries...

so here's the fourth!

the latest i've read is arundhati roy's the god of small things - a brilliant novel that takes place in ayemenem, a village in the backwaters close to kottayam and alleppey, where i stayed in kerala over the holidays.

roy is a bit of a genius.

her writing style is very dense, making the reading a bit distracting, but through the story filled with drama, class struggle, sex, murder, and a lot of the local language of kerala, malayam, she is able to provide the reader with historical, social, economic and political context of the area. this was a welcome read as it helped me understand kerala's communist past, the noticeable absence of homeless in alleppey, and the contrasting high suicide and literacy rates (as commented on in god's own country).

it's a classic micro-macro story, where the struggles and stories of three generations of the Ipe family are direct results of the framework of the social structures in which they are forced to live. it describes caste clash mainly through "love laws": who can be loved, and how, and how much.

the thing i didn't like was that roy kept the deep dark secret until the end. but her style and descriptiveness kept me going. it's a tragedy, yet a major comment on feminism and colonialism. india has its own problems, but the solutions have to come from the inside, not from colonialisation, indian self-hatred, and india's ridiculous love and unconditional acceptance of the west.

i totally identified with ammu and rahel, the two central women characters. they refused to accept the oppression that was served to them, and as indian women, acted contrary to society's expectations, of course bringing on the harsh but expected punishments from their oppressors!

after completing the novel, i felt a bit drained and so the geek that i am, i read this great dissertation on the book from the university of utrecht. it explores colonialism, feminism, politics and the literary style of the book. of particular interest were pages 7, 11, 13... despite a few flaws, i highly recommend it. only of course, after reading the book itself.

goes well with keralan tea, nitin sawhney and a long hug afterwards...

four stars
handy dandy study guide

03.01 bollywood dance craze

last night some high school students from lawrence park high put on a benefit for the NGO i work for. it was a dance night called "urban", featuring dance and music from urban centres around the world. among these were nairobi, paris, and yes... mumbai.

the indian act was near the end of the night. my curiosity was piqued when i caught a glimpse of lycra-clad girls with brightly coloured sequins and jingling bells giggling on their way backstage.

well it was a bolly-hit.

500 teenagers and lucky chaperoning parents in the uptown toronto crowd screamed and shouted and moved their bhangra-shoulders to the bolly beat. the girls on stage were even incorporated the indian head wiggle (ihw) at one point! the kids went wild. the parents went wilder. it was an eye opener for me. i had no idea that bollywoood dancing was that popular. it always seemed so cheesy to me: the bollywood dance numbers on saturday morning television hindi films was (is?) as required as a morning chai. i cringe and laugh watching lovers dancing around in the park, raising one eyebrow at one another and coyly hiding their faces with sari silks. [oh, and the 'let's get our faces as close together as we can without actually kissing - the hallmark of the bolly dance sequence]. it was either that or the sound of fake taamashaas (slaps) and punches in the compulsory bolly-brawl scene.

funny enough the bolly dance thing really is a bit of a craze. today i was on BBC and came across this "in pictures" section... it's about bollywood dancing catching on like wildfire in yorkshire, uk. who knew it would get so hot?

01.15 worlds apart

i have neglected my ipod in india.

there were so many fascinating sounds that kept me alert, alive, aware.. i didn't need the ipod. actually i didn't want it.

coming back to toronto was not easy. i should mention that my father, in tarzan style, sprained his knee jumping from a wall a couple of days ago. i know: he's almost sixty; what is he doing jumping. i know. i know. but boys will be boys. so he jumps. sprains his knee and because of an old soccer injury the thing is now the size of my head. seriously.

does he go to a clinic? a doctor? a healer? um. no. would tarzan go to a healer? no. this is the thing about boys. i know they say that women are irrational (they even coined the word "hysterical") , but when it comes to ego, men's ability to think logically evaporates. and they are left with a cantaloupe for a knee, hobbling in and out of cabs to get last minute stuff done...

at the mumbai airport, i order him a wheelchair. he doesn't realise it but that wheelchair man is coming for him. that's his wheelchair. he scowls. looks at me. i grab his camera bag and lead him into the chair by the elbow. once seated, he shrinks to the size of me. i suddenly feel a pang of empathy for him. he's getting old. my mom, on the other hand is radiant.

i order a roomy seat for my father. the flight is long. and delayed. at heathrow, there is no wheelchair ready and we have 1 hour to connect. near-impossible with security checks. somehow, we and our luggage make the connection. once in the plane i finally pull out my ipod and float into sweet oblivion.

reality check comes at toronto pearson international arrivals. it's 1am. after collecting our immense baggages, i head over to my father and his wheelchair attendant is in a heated discussion with her coworker about a third coworker. i hear the words "fuck" and "bitch" and think to myself... so this is what reverse culture shock is all about. after waiting for about a minute while the two gossip like teenagers i ask the woman if i can take my father. her eyes bulge in reaction, as though i grabbed her boob on a packed mumbai train or something.

i smile.

...it is possible to recognize anger in this world, to understand its sources, without getting angered yourself...

still smiling i pull an ipod bud from my pocket and put it in my left ear.
i pat her on the shoulder and with a little indian head wiggle turn toward the exit, "chalo!".

and of course she follows.

01.14 poverty

poverty taught me a lot in india. i have not experienced ultra-poverty first-hand but before leaving for india i heard a lot about it. i was actually afraid of how it would affect me. i was constantly warned about beggars and touts. people complained about them nonstop, saying how they are everywhere, persistent, annoying. bad for your peace of mind.

question: if you were utterly broke, hungry, with only the clothes on your back and no one to turn to, would you ask for help, or would you curl up into a ball and die from pride?

hmmm?

exactly. that's the spirit that makes me love india so much.

a quick word on dukaans...
i've been to indian shopping malls and large westernised department stores. miserable places. nobody cares whether you buy something or not. there are too many staff and if you ask for something, they might pause to look at you. and then continue talking among themselves. juxtapose this with the man whose family depends on what he sells that day. if he sells nothing, his kids go hungry.

i'd support him over a department store. any day.

we should stop judging. people end up in situations. some enter into poverty. so many are born into it. i'm just gonna say this: in india you will get asked for stuff. you may even get tricked. you will use your common sense. buy stuff if you want it. don't buy stuff if you don't want it. look at what's going on around you. but do not complain about how annoying people are because i will have no sympathy for your privileged ass!

try giving away your last rupee to the lady who lives on the sidewalk. it's a great feeling. and it will mean more to her than it does to you.

ok enough rant. check out these kids. we gave them a bag of pakoras and money to buy milk. of course, they kept asking for more:) whether or not they "scored", it really doesn't matter...

01.12 love

pyaar, mohabbat, ishq... all mean the same thing. love.

i was just thinking about the man of my dreams.. and must comment on expressions of love in india.

in pondicherry, over lunch with three friends, vik, hari and patrick, this topic came up. they were annoyed at the "hassles" that single female travellers (sfts) in india inevitably had to deal with. it wasn't obvious any time i was hanging with my parents or inside hotels or going around with drivers. i've been pretty lucky. but there were moments...

tibetan bowl massage, my lady?
i had asked raja, a lousy squat pondi shopkeeper, about some tibetan bowls i saw in his shop... a trained healer, raja decided to "show and tell" me their powers with an impromptu tibetan vibrating bowl massage in the store. cool. at first. but in minutes, good vibrations turned into a pervy groping session à la pepe le pew. just to be clear: he was groping me, not the other way around.

the risky business of mumbai trains...
rather than a nice, neat "grope and run" on the street, today i was full-up fondled in a man-packed mumbai train. i felt fingers mashing up my left boob, and noticed a dude's left hand, which he had snuck across his chest, peeking from behind his right bicep, rubbing me up. sensing the laser rays from my pupils burning a hole in his knuckle, he quickly removed his hand.

excuse me, i say to the guy standing on my left
silence.
EXCUSE ME - my face right in his. everyone is looking at me. silence.
PLEASE LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU. I SAW YOU TOUCHING ME.
his guilty eyes still avoid me. two other dudes claim his innocence: he can't touch you with that bag in his right hand. they continue campaigning after i explain he's got two haath and one was just on me. some old man is now yelling at the dude. bingo. yes. now i get it. sad. but true: this is what women-only sections are for. swelling with anger at this fact, and this guy's cowardice, i finally boom in his ear:
DON'T. TOUCH. ME. i consider snapping his photo right there but suddenly feel sorry for him. probably never seen a girl like me this close up in his life.

wheel you maarrry me?
in india you will get asked for your hand. that's just how it goes. even lovely old aruna from the school for perfect eyesight had been chatting to me all week, and finally asked me my last day whether i was single, would i marry a man in india, and was i ready to get married... but by far the funniest marriage proposal was on the street yesterday in bandra: "maadaam... yoo soo beoootifool, moowie shtaaar! are yoo maaaried? i will like to maaarry yoo!" he skipped alongside me as i walked, telling me he'd do anything i ask, but didn't leave me alone when i asked him to.

it's a bit of a shame, because i write all of this off, but i can see how an sft - especially western women - would get really mad. it's an adjustment coming from a society where people don't even look at each other walking down the street to a place where everyone and everything is out there, on display, and up for grabs. boobs included.

ranjith, a really decent, stand-up guy in pondi had warned me about mumbai. i remember him shaking his head, and telling me how embarrased he was. that this kind of behaviour from some indian men gives all indian men a bad reputation. sadly, he's right.

but that's india for you. wherever you turn, in a park, train, museum, peeking at you like in a bollywood flick from behind a tree, eyes burning through your salwaar, there it is: love...

01.12 floating friday

this evening we saw the floating wonder... the ali haji durga.

the mosque was built in honour of the sufi saint haji ali, a big-time merchant. he had renounced his wealth and material life in favour of his devotion to god and his meditation. the legend says that he died during a pilgrimmage to mecca and that his casket somehow floated back to this shore, at the spot where the durga is today.

the durga includes his tomb and a mosque. the whole complex is built 500 metres from the shore so you have to walk along a narrow path to reach it. today it's fine to cross because it's low tide, but during monsoon season, and high tide the walkway is completely submerged, so the durga appears to be floating away.

01.12 mmm... leafy greens

so i have a slight addiction.


i've been sneaking to the paan-wallas every day (sometimes more than once a day). i only do it when no one's looking... i guess that's a bad sign, huh?

i don't know what it is. they are just so good and so fun to eat. traditionally eaten by high-society, paan are the things that everyone can eat when out at night, after dinner at the paan-wallas. i've tried to give them to friends back in toronto and all have had the same response... they couldn't handle it! some people described it to chewing a mouthful of candied insense. yes it's true, when you eat the stuff you can feel the aroma of it swirling in your mouth and out through your nostrils. very much an acquired taste. they taste the exact same here as they do back in toronto's little india. but back in toronto i didn't have a paan habit.

paan is the indian after dinner mint... it's chewed to give you an aromatic, refreshing taste, to sweeten your mouth and breath. it's made from the betel leaf, onto which the paan-wallah spreads some syruppy lime paste, then covers with coconut shavings, dollops of sweet cherry paste, rose paste and sprinkles with little fennel seeds, anise seeds, tiny little red candies and some other miscellaneous spices and stuff. i love watching as the paan-walla's dextrous fingers wrap the leaf with all this inside into a little triangle and bam! you got paan.

my mouth is watering just thinking about them... and i've already had one today.

the thing that makes paan more illicit is the traditional method - most people have paan with betel nut shavings. some say it's not betel nut but another related seed. both are really hard rock-like things. some, like my great-grandmother, also take their paan with chewing tobacco, which they spit out. actually i think she opted for just the chewing tobacco alone, without the paan! but that dark, lovely, sweet and heavy aroma....mmmmm!

personally i prefer 'virgin' or sweet paan - what is called 'mitha' paan. it's supposed to provide good digestion and clear the blood, the betel nut has been banned back in canada because it's been linked with mouth cancer. i think it's mostly the chewing tobacco that does that, but that's just my guess. i hope a few mitha paan won't kill me!

01.11 mirror mirror on the ceiling....

today's mumbai cab had drrrrty mirrors.

on the ceiling.

01.11 mystery fruit

mumbai market. this fruit was coal-like on the outsite (even left black smears on stuff like coal), but pear-like and yummy inside. he told what they were but in my haste i didn't write it down. mystery fruit!!

01.11 bolly

being in mumbai - aka bollywood, home of the world's biggest film industry, i just had hit the cinemas satisfy my flick-fix. here's what i found...

get off the kabul express...
ok. how can any self respecting director, producer, actor, actress, hell - set designer, makeup artist, key grip, gaffer, extra - put their name to this and let this dribble make it out the editing studio, out here into the real world?? john abraham, i was expecting more from you! to think this film made it to the festival circuit. there must have been a shortfall of made-for-the-foreign-market desi flix last year. basically three journalists travel to the afghanistan border and find what they are looking for: a taliban. they realise he's a human being - how poignant. but the movie is so predictable and the acting is so brutally bad that i can't say it's worth it. not even a good ole dance sequence to mix it up.
my rating: skip it


om for omkara
another retake of shakespeare's othello but omkara is a dark jewel. gorgeous sets. good music. well conceived characters. of course excellent plot (thanks william!), on-point acting. ajay, vivek, salif, kareena and the gorgeous bipasha - each one of the actors give it - and that makes this film what it is. a masterpiece and true to shakespeare's vision. inherent caste divisions are a perfect replacement for omkara's "moorishness", because he's mixed, which makes him "different". a totally engaging tragedy.
my rating: do it

gandhism in lage raho munna bhai
and on the lighter side.... the second comedy about munna the thug. gandhi is the coolest dude in the film. it won awards for promoting gandhism and still stays true to bolly convention: boy chases girl, boy gets girl, singing and dancing scenes ensue, when along comes big fat problem, boy loses girl, gandhism takes root, a showdown goesdown, boy gets girl back. no... gandhi is not gettin with any women in the film, in case that's what you thought...
my rating: do it

still gotta catch canadian director deepa mehta's water. it's been shortlisted for the academy awards. i'm not surprised, since the other two in her trilogy, earth and fire are solid.

all in all my film foray was pretty satisfying. i haven't seen anything up to par with lagaan, but i'd put omkara and munna bhai up there with monsoon wedding and taal...

01.10 hindi 101

i had to pick up some hindi while in hindustan.

i'm not 100% courageous in using what i've learned, but i'm working at it. it's been funny being with my folks because they didn't grow up speaking hindi, only hearing some other people use it, and in east africa no less... but immersed in it now, they sound like true hindiphiles.

if anyone's up for a little hindi lesson, i'm laying down some key phrases here...

hello = NAMASKAR
hello (in a rajasthani village) = RAM-RAM (hands in prayer pose)
ok = ACHHA (best with the ihw)
please = KRIPYA
thank you = DHANYAVAD / SHUKRIYA
how are you = KYA HAAL HAIN
my name is.... = MERA NAAM HAI....
your name is? = AAPNA NAAM KYA HAI?
no problem / my pleasure = KOI BAAT NAHI (best with the ihw)
i like it a lot = MUJHKO BOHOT PASAN HAI
where is the bathroom? = MEN'S /LADIES NA TOILET KAHAAN HAI?
it is nice to meet you = AAP SE MIL KE KHU-SHI HUI
take me to my hotel = KRIPYA MUJHE HOTAL LE CHLIYE
how much does this cost? = YEH KITNE KA HAI?
it's expensive = YEH BOHOT MEHENGA HAI
this = YEH
to make a phone call = PHONE KARNAA
where's the phone? = PHONE KAHAAN HAIN?
what time is it? = KYA SAMAY HAI?
help = MADAD
doctor = DOCTOR
police = PULIS
taxi = TAXI
tea = CHAI
water = PAANEE
do you speak English? = KYA AAP ANGREZI AATEH HAI?
i don't understand = MERI SAMAJ MEI NAHIN AAYA
one, two, three, four, five = EK, DO, THEEN, CHAR, PANCH
six, seven, eight, nine, ten = CHEH, SAAT, AAT, NAU, DAS
come here = IDHAR AAO
don't touch me = DON'T TOUCH ME

when in doubt, use your hands and gesticulate wildly....

01.09 beautiful people

today i meet up with abbas, another torontonian in the 'bai.

at india gate, he appears with his sister. he's in head-to-toe electric "talk-to-me" blue, a massive camera dangling from his neck. with the tou-rist 'tude, we head for lunch.

after, we walk down what must be "madaaam" street for a session of nodding and smiling and politely waving "no thenkyoo" followed by the ihw. at the keychain-walla, abbas orders 40 keychains engraved with the names of all his staff, and one for me, my folks, and my sister. i get mine in arabic, curious to see how it looks. it's kinda pretty...

at jehangir art gallery, painter gautam vaghela's exhibition knocks me out. his ancient fortresses and monumental mughal architecture along with such ferocious, vivid colour and dreamlike mystical creatures floating high above in bright reds, greens, oranges and yellows are pure genius. the old dude at the desk yells over and tells us to stop taking pictures. dude. it's gautam vaghela himself. abbas chats him up and snap snap snap takes his picture. i'm floored. the two other galleries inside are equally as impressive, but gautam's visual style is unmatched.

next off to the market for abbas-style charity work, also what i secretly call "robin hood" action. he buys twenty bags of rice from two shopkeepers, who load them into cabs. off we go, shopkeepers and all, to pick up crates of chai and then finally reach the mother theresa home for the disabled. 400 people live there. they have no families, no supports except for tireless sisters who run this place. amazing to hear three blind girls with facial disfigurations sing so beautifully. one girl, komal, makes purses and greeting cards to sell and make enough money for nursing school. i "buy" a card from her before we go. another girl follows me, trying to tell me something and pointing to her cheek all the time. i stop and give her a kiss but she keeps following me finger pointing at her cheek. i say, "ok - you give me a kiss now!". uproarious laughter. i didn't realise then that she was asking for help. she has a really bad toothache and was in a lot of pain.

i'm really moved. there are so many people in mumbai but none of them appear to be jaded, cynical and negative like so many people back home. on the contrary. so many indians, the poor, the homeless, even the disabled - may not have a shot at any rosy future, but they do what they have to do, what they can, to survive. and that's simply beautiful.

01.08 santa cruz sandwich-walla

some people think "mumbai" is the reclaimed name of the city that was once dubbed "bombay" by the brits. they are wrong.

"mumbai" apparently, is the hindi word for "shopping".

while i am very interested to spend my first day here sight seeing, the folks kidnap me to spend the day dressing me up like a desi doll.

santa cruz: shopping capital of mumbai-burbia. every form of life is bustling down the narrow road, flanked on either side by street vendors selling saris, dresses, dress material, salwar-khameez, kurtas, purses, shoes and yes, suitcases. just in case you can't help yourself buy up the whole 'hood.

i dart out of a sari shop where bright saris are being tossed at my folks from every direction. i am hungry. shopping is serious sport - you work up an appetite.

there is one lonely street stall - and it's swarmed. it's the famed sandwich-walla. radhika told me about this legendary place but i never thought i'd find it in a city of 25 million people. yet, fate brought me here. at the counter, i order three hot masala sandwiches, two juices and a soda. the kid butters the bread, puts masala and aloo inside and puts everything to toast in a sandwich maker. i don't wait. i swallow down my sandwich and contemplate eating the other two in the bag meant for my folks. seeing as my plan of losing a coupla inches in india hasn't worked out, i decide to head back to the shop.

of course, first day we get a bit swindled. but it's ok. my mom got some nice stuff to satisfy her sequin craving. and i got my sandwich from the sandwich-walla.

01.07 bright lights, mumbai city

chennai-mumbai. not so hot flight. no, not turbulence. i sat next to an insanely egotistical tennis 'star'. he wants to see his name in my blog - after i explicitly said i don't write about people. well chirag - this is your moment of fame.

[btw, air deccan has no reserved seating! it's chaos. a total khichro!]

ok - my folks. the sweet people that they are, meet me at the airport. we hop in a cab for south-central mumbai. looking out the window, mumbai is slick. dark. damp.

which makes me realise i have not seen rain in my 4 weeks.

mumbai is polar oppostite to pondi. so many people about, wide and well paved streets, loads of tourists, old colonial buildings decked regal flags, so many curious places and faces.

i'm a bit sad - i miss pondi. i've only got one more week here. i'm gonna relish it. as we pass by cinema with thousands of people swarmed outside, i get that excited feeling of being someplace that throbs. the "oonch-oonch-oonch" of the underground club that you stumble upon by mistake in a back alleyway and go in to this whole new world have the time of your life. well it's been a while for me. bring it on.

i'm up for anything. i'm in the 'bai. mumbai baby!

01.06 what's your dosha?

i begin my day with a swig from the bottle of good ole safi syrup.

also known as liquid hell.

safi is a blood purifier made with 24 natural essences, and the most vile tasting concotion ever. i've been instructed take it every morning by the doc at the ayurvedic centre to help fix the trouble he found in my solar plexus during my reflexology treatment...

according to the label, safi cures skin blemishes, rashes, nose bleeding, eruptions, measles, burning fiery pee (the label says micturition!!), and general lassitude (also known aas a state of comatose stupor). yes, that's right! safi to the rescue!

the label omits any mention of my poor solar plexus. but i'll forge ahead. aside from tasting like tar and gasoline, i'm sure it can't do much harm.

the dosha
i found an interesting introduction to the three main categories of body type according to the ayurveda. ayurveda, the science of life, focuses on mainatining a healthy spirit, body and mind. the categories are called doshas - there's vata, pitta and kapha. each one represents a combination of two elements, from air, fire and water. most people have one or two dominant doshas and one or two 'recessive' ones.

i'm mainly vata (air and space), with some pitta and less kapha, so i'm vatta-pitta-kapha. according to the most revered ayurvedic text, the Charaka Samhita, the characteristics of vata dosha are:

:dry and rough (rookshaha); cool (sheetoha); light--lacking weight (laghuhu); very tiny, penetrating molecules (sookhshmaha); always moving (chalota); broad, unlimited, unbounded--akash means unbounded space (vishadaha); and rough (kharaha).

....vata tend to be thin, with a slender frame and prominent joints, delicate skin that is naturally dry, and dry voluminous hair. They are quick and lively in thought, speech and action, and make friends easily. There is an element of airiness to their step, a quality of lightness in their laughter. Change is usually their second name. They are light sleepers and gravitate towards warm environments. Creativity and enthusiasm are hallmarks of balanced Vata.

it goes on to describe the lifestyles and the diets preferred by my fellow "vatans". normally i would pooh-pooh all this but as i read more, i'm agreeing with a lot of what it says. i'm like a kid learning about electricity and conductivity for the very first time. shabash!! no more the ayurvedic virgin. i'm hooked.

to find out your dosha or your natural state of "prakruti", use this great online test.

the dosha descritptions, lifestyle and balancing diets are also interesting.

there is a separate "vakruti" or imbalance test and lifestyle, exercise and diet on how to get you back to your optimal state.

amazing stuff... just no mention of the magical safi syrup...

01.05 desi thriller

bollywood has nuthin on this.
telugu version of mj's "thriller" - the indian thriller.
be very afraid.




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01.05 wiggle it - the ihw

it's taking time but i'm finally decoding the indian head wiggle (ihw).

no matter where in the world you go, you will always know someone who grew up in india by this telltale movement of the head. it's like a bellydancing head, only it's from india, with love.

i found a useful article called Tilt Your Head Like an Indian, that comes as close to anything i've found to not only descipher, but to master, this gesture that has puzzled so many .

but why would i need to learn the ihw, you ask?
elementary my dear. it's a catch-all for so many things. just think, with an easy wiggle of the head you can convey "yes", "no", "you gotta be crazy", "vah!!" (or "this is utter bliss, don't stop") , "you are so right", "mmmm", or "how the hell should i know?!". it's an entire language unto itself.

learn it. incorporate it regularly when you are in india. only then will you be able to understand it when it's wiggling in your face.

and you will be an instant hit...
kinda like this;

01.04 oro in auroville

yesterday i went to auroville, a town which lies 12 km north of pondicherry. ranjith gave me a lift there on the back of his motorcycle. now i want a bike for myself!

back to reality. auroville is a manufactured town, designed in the vision of "the mother". the goal or purpose is to realise human unity in diversity. of the 1,700 people who live in auroville, 1/3 are from india, the rest from all over the world. i had envisioned auroville to be a massive hippie commune, even though its endorsed and backed by UNESCO. my perceptions were bang on.

the layout of the town is a microcosmic representation of a galaxy, the matrimandir - or the soul of the city - at the centre. the path to the matrimandir begins at a humungous banyan tree, which has many pillar-like branches that have grown back down to the ground. the tree will eventually be one solid mass of wood.

emerging from the path of plants from all over the world is a giant amphitheatre, with a cement urn podium containing soil from 124 countries (ah diversity). what looks like a giant golden golf ball, the matrimandir itself, floats up, seemingly held in place by the red stone beneath.

the matrimandir is closed so off for the beach! back on the bike for a trecherous ride. ranjith slowed to a snail's pace to negotiate the bike over and around giant rocks and got caught in mud fields. thoughts of cracking my skull on the rocks or being swallowed up in quicksand floated through my head. but ranjith is an accomplished motorcyclist. we made it to aurobeach totally intact.

here is where i decided to skip my afternoon at the school for perfect eyesight. having raided nehru street in pondi earlier in the day, i came prepared with my boy-shorts and tank. any woman in the ocean will get ogled like crazy. blind bat that i am doesn't really care, but i had been chastized by some rude indian women at the ashram guest house for wearing a knee-length skirt (they talked about me out loud as they stood right next to me, so obviously bending to give my skirted ass some old fashioned cut-eye). now that's what i call shameless!

but i wasn't going to give up the salt water for some old hags. the water was divine. the waves, kind. i stayed until the sun started to come down and hunger set in. i swear my eyesight improved that afternoon in leaps and bounds!

01.03 q and a...

even though i have decided not to write about specific people, today i got the funniest e-mail from taz, my sister. it was a series of questions that had me laughing like a madwoman in the icafe a few seconds ago... probably because i can practically hear her voice as i read them. i've decided to post it here with answers...

just when i think she's a regular girl, she surprises me with the most imaginative lingo... this post is dedicated to you babes!! miss you tonnes!

arent u glad ur chillin in the motherland?
arrrey! batchhi, you don't know how good we have it at home. food to eat, hot water on tap and none of these ridiculous macchars - no need for mosquito spray! ok ta admit, i'm loving it.

how are the eye workshops?
all's well on the eye front. day 4 or 5, and i've been retested, successfully reading the next smaller line on the eye chart! woohoo! took the cam in today to snap still photos and record video. they love me. but then again, who doesn't??

how are the men in their dhotti pants?
i know you love those natural, cultured types.
dahhhling. they are more cultured than you think! and they are called "luuungis". pretty much full length sarongs, and when they get to be a pain around the ankles, they are folded halfway up and tucked in, exposing the knees a la miniskirt! mmmm. verrrry sexxxy!!

don't you love your week of freedom from peeeps asking about your sanas and loud snoring at night?
'peeps' is referring to my parents. 'sanas' refers to regular bowel movements, and the loud snoring. well, that's my mom to be exact... sharing a room with her was so painful! yes i'm thoroughly enjoying my new found freedom. but the first day it was very noticeable that there was no one checking up with me on my 'sanas' status!!

have you met any cool people?
yes. a few really cool ones. it's like anywhere else in the world. there are some very cool people. there are some that like to dress like very cool people, but are not cool. and then there are some that are cool until they become uncool, often just when you get up close to them. i've been lucky and been mainly hanging out by myself! and i'm seriously cool. i even dress the part!

do you have the indian head wiggle when you speak?
omg yes i noticed i was doing that today! on my daily walk to the vision centre, i always get approached by the autorickshaw drivers asking me if i want a ride. today i think i did it. i didn't even know i was doing it. but afterward, i had this weird feeling because they were not persisting as per usual. i think the indian head wiggle (IHW) sealed my firm, "no thank you" with an extra bit of "and don't ask me again"!

gotta say that i love the indian head wiggle. more on that in another post...

do you say 'HAI?' with a loud, nasal, high pitchedsound if you dont hear or understand what somebody said?
(giggle) yes.

are you wiping the sweat of your brow with your dupatta?
i don't wear a dupatta!!!

are you dhasering your champals around in the dirt?
'dhasering' is dragging, 'champals are sandals, or flips... and yes. although i didn't bring any with me, i succame to the heat and picked up a pair at the fashionable store in the market. they set me back $8 and are good enough to wear home. although today they came in handy at the beach...

are you sneeking out and eating pappadams and gulabjambu from street vendors at night?
i try not to. pappadams are not readily available at night. gulabjambus either. i have taken a strong liking to the ginger and coconut cookies. the street vendor i like the best is an old lady near the vision center. she sells me banana and oranges, which are deeeeelish and cost roughly 2 cents!!
[update: i did find hot and fresh gulabjammus at a sweet shop one night and they were pure heaven and covered in sweet syruppy bliss......]

are you having a passionate love affair with a hotbodied, smelly rickshaw driver?
awwww! wouldn't that be fun!!

do you spit the paan juice as you cruise down the streets?
did you read the blog on spitting? it's requisite, babes.

have you seen hanuman?
i visited his tomb, does that count? i think he came to me in a dream one night after i parted with the parents. not for a love affair, more as a fatherly figure to remind me to be regular with my sanas...

01.02 la gastronomie

a few words on food.

i've been in pondicherry a few days now and i am beginning to see an indian-french food connection. allow me to explain.

a typical pondi breakfast is masala dosa and chai.

a dosa is made of rice, but essentially, it's what the french would call a crèpe!

a masala dosa is filled with, well, masala (curried and spiced potatoes), so that's a lunch crèpe, rather than a sweet crèpe.

add a cup of masala chai from the nescafé machine (i want to get one of these machines for home - it makes a sound like an espresso machine and then bam! you've got yourself an espresso-size shot of amazing deeelish spiced chai) - so add a cup of masala chai and you've got crèpes with cafe au lait... or thé au lait to be exact!

just as the french like their pastries, indians like their sweets.
i've encountered in pondicherry on my forages west of the canal, around nehru street and goubert market, dozens of little and big "sweet shops", where i make almost a daily pilgrimmage now. the one on the corner of nehru street and canteen street is my usual spot.

it reminds me of the little pastry shops in europe - people lined up to buy all sorts of fattening foods! i purchase a salty snack mix, sesame balls (kind of like sesame snaps but in ball shape and less sweet), ginger and coconut cookies and two gulabjammus, hot and sweet, which i devour in seconds, before even leaving the premises.

mmm. in the course of the day, especially when you're in the maddening crowd and in the market, this little pit stop hits the spot! vive la gastronimie!!

01.01 meditation with the masses

the first thing i do this year is meditate.

i have been invited to bring in the new year at the global meditation at the ashram - at 6 am. at a regular new years, i'd usually be in bed or just be getting to bed at this time. so i wake up super duper early and walk 15 blocks to the ashram, eager to see what the global meditation will be like.

this is not a strange concept, though, i must explain. i am ismaili. it's ritual to meditate from 4-5am each morning. i have to admit, i haven't been to the mosque in the morning since forever. when i used to go regularly, it was great. when you meditate in the morning you bring in your day with such peace. and your days seem to go by with little conflict and trauma. there is something about meditation that i haven't fully explored yet but i will.

the ashram is full up. tonnes of people cross the street to meditate inside the educational centre. i decide i don't want to remove my shoes so i install myself with the throngs meditating in the street between the two buildings.

quick note: it's quite a strange sight to see for the first time, but indians sit everywhere on the ground. you go to the train station or the airport even and there everyone is, en masse, sitting on the ground having a snack. same thing with the sidewalk. or the street, or just behind a parked truck, exhaust pipes overhead. this is my first time sitting like that. i gotta be honest. it's really a yucky feeling.

then, organ music floods the street from the ashram and i wonder - how can you mediate to this?! for as far back as i can remember, i have somehow associated organ music with horror movies and sinister moods. my attempt at embracing the ashram is not proceeding well!

latecomers are now relegated, due to the increasing lack of space, to the periphery of my visual and hearing boundaries, therefore my consciousness. i close my eyes and attempt to center myself. the organ music continues, and then a lady's voice starts talking. it's the mother! but she's dead! wait - she's talking in french. she's telling me to relax, clear my mind and feel calm. i suddenly wish i was in my bed, but ok.

after 10 minutes, i get over the amplified organ music, the voice, and the dude sitting next to me craning his head to look at me. i begin to feel very calm.

after a half hour the music stops and people start to come back to life. i feel jipped. half an hour!! i have to admit, i did feel good after the meditation. i am used to the full hour at the mosque. half an hour is not bad, but the organ music has to go! as people begin to get up and dust themselves, a feeling of warmth comes over the crowd. its my first smile of the year - all sorts of people are wishing me and each other a happy new year. i walk to the far end of the ville blanche and come back to the guest house via the beach.

it is a magical morning. i spend the first hours of 2007 watching the bright red sun come up over the bay of bengal. there are dozens of people on the beach welcoming the new year with me this way, but i am happy to be alone with my thoughts. as i walk over to park guest house to get a cup of tea and ginger cookies (!), i notice a few old men doing yoga in the park. they smile at me and wish me a happy new year.

today is going to be a beautiful day.

12.31 new years

tamils know how to celebrate! there is a nightly carnival / fair set up near the beach road since christmas, which i'm told and won't close down until january 14th, the day that the tamils celebrate their new year.

for me, new year's is today and my wish is to bring in the new year peacefully. after a scrumptious dinner at the guest house (they make thaali especially for me!), i check out the bands playing along the beach. i cannot understand anything they are doing but it is a pretty funny spectacle: a bunch of guys up on the stage singing in a very animated way to the crowd. i suddenly wish that i could understand what they were saying. after the show, i head to the beach to hang with a bunch of really cool guys from kashmir. the beach is gorgeous and there are so many people out, some hanging with thier families, others causing a drunken ruckus, and others still, chilling and looking out to the sea with friends.

we talk about everything - one of those types of conversations - just loose and go with the flow... at some point i luckily ask them the time. it's 10:20 pm. i'm in a panic - gotta be back at the ashram in 10 minutes!! i "happy new year" the kashmir crew and run down the street (quite a spectacle for the pondi crowd - more on this later). a zippy autorickshaw driver gets me back just as the guard is closing the front gates...

i spend midnight sitting on my candle-lit balcony and taking in the sounds of fireworks, the pondi locals and the waves crashing on the beach. my first "new years midnight" ever that i spend alone... but i accomplish my goal of a peaceful new years. there is something very special about this new years. something calm, unreheased, unhurried and above all, healthy. i feel very blessed to be here, grateful to see what i am seeing and to have all the things i have, that so many people, in their quest for more more more, seem to take for granted. i am happy to have my health, my crazy family (i mean this in the best possible way), my brain and my friends. it's a good feeling to bring in the new year utterly humbled and happy. i like it.