In love...again!

I watched the tumor grow. Invading every single cell, taking the vital nutrients forming a huge useless mass of cells. Ugly, poisonous green toxin all over, it grew killing everything healthy and happy, leaving not even traces. As I watched it, it reminded me of the clutter I had accumulated. Over the year knowing fully well it was only invading me. There was no thinking in a straight line anymore. The clutter always came in between. Unnecessary, and like the tubercles taking the most essential neuronal connections.

The mess is good. Somewhere in this, I realized what I never want to lose in life. I realized what made my heart warm and eyes glow and my head feel light with schizophrenic madness. The adrenaline gush. Yes, I am probably not entirely successful but I am happy. Thanks to my schedule, I was forced to go back to my "pre marital" busy-ness, I was able to make the connections despite the clutter. I am in love with science all over again.

Where are we going from here?

While the rest of the world watched Haiti break down over the television I learnt about it through a desperate student. I found her handing out flyers at the student recreation center informing how to donate effectively to Haiti. She had not heard from her family from Tuesday onwards. No advances in communication or globalization had helped her till now. There was another colleague like that who was able to reaCH her family on friday finally and she was so grateful for that. I felt small and guilty for worrying about nothing.

The earth quake's magnitude was 7.0 which I have heard from experts should not cause such a significant loss. A lot contributed to it, the building structure, how developed their emergency management system was etc. Here in the united states every building is designed to take natural disasters. When the tsunami hit India, only those who paid close attention to Kamal Hassan's movie knew what it was. Is natural disaster coupled with the country's economical structure nature new way of saying "survival of the fittest?" Could Darwinism be extrapolated to the modern commercialized - globalized world?

You are one now

24 posts! Not bad. Happy birthday bloggie.

I noticed I said 2008 was the worst and best year of my life. I did not notice what was coming next. I guess thats how life is.

As a toast to it, I am going to have a (want to) separate section for book and movie reviews, but under the same blog. I just dont know how to. Help required for the communication impaired!

Roots

"Early in the spring of 1750, in the village of Juffure, four days upriver from the coast of Gambia, West Africa, a man child was born to Omoro and Binta Kinte....."

I read "Roots" a six hundred page book in three days. Non stop. It has been ages since I read a book with so much involvement. Every line struck me hard. I read the last few pages, put the book down and looked around my tiny room. My book shelf stacked with Biochemistry/other favourite fiction, on the other side, a large board of family pictures and a closet of endless clothes. I took education for granted. I knew where I came from. I took lineage and holding on to my culture for granted. I recommend this book to all, just to feel what I felt. Privileged.

Appa's retirement

This is a dippi from what I wrote for appa when he retired. I am also posting this to thank Arvind so much for the feedback and edits. Appa was proud :)

“intha nutpam porkum puriyavillai…”…
“moongil kaatril thedidum pozhuthu moongil kadendru”…
” kavithai variyin suvai…artham puriyum varai”
Everyone understands nostalgia and how music can recreate the whole situation including sights and smells. For me some of these songs brings about euphoria; that even falling in love or independence or success could not bring out. Memories of good old days, chilly cold Coimbatore breeze, half open window, TSC1296 grey Fiat carrying a happy family of four. Three hours prior to that I would have been torn away from my group of friends with whom I had been playing hop scotch or lahori until my feet and dress both attained unrecognizable colours. Amma would have battled to turn me into a presentable form after talking to appa on the phone “kozhanthaigala ready a iruka sollu ipadi ingeyavathu poitu varlam” After a terrific dinner and an even better dessert at Kwality Walls, on race course road, Madhu and I would hear the magical words, “Drive anyone?” and we would race through avinashi road or race course listening to ARRahman. On most of his Kuruchi days ,appa would drop us back and head back to work
Appa is retiring this month. In amma’s words, “Ithudan State bank Ithihasam mudinjachu” Madhu and I almost grew up with State Bank of India, like how my mom and dad did. We had, Neyveli branch days, MRL Manali days, GMO Secretariat days, SIDCO Kuruchi days, Inspection days, Zonal office days and Stressed assets management branch days. I have left out a few, maybe Ganapathy ADB and his former branches only because I was not born then or they did not have any memories for me. All the state bank days were excellent. From our family friends, to people who knew how my dad and mom met, some very special people are from the bank. My dad’s best friends, Rajaram uncle, Sam uncle, Padma aunty are all family now.
Amma and I would laugh every time appa picked up the phone when one of his superiors from work called. He would immediately stand to an attention and the number of sirs would increase tenfold. If it was someone he respected more than just as a senior, We would also be asked to remain silent and the TV and Mixie were a strict no for another half hour.
When he yelled at us or got frustrated with us, I would think, poor colleagues of his, I can just imagine what they must be going through. Turns out that it’s not true at all. It seems that his people skills are so good that everyone knows him a tough but sincere person. What I observed of appa was that he was dedicated, sincere and really hardworking.
Not so absorbed that he would neglect his family. Here comes the best part. If I were to mark places that I have visited in India, most of the map would be covered. We went on vacations on every single holiday. Be it bank funded (LFC) or appa funded, we would have a ball. From snow covered himachal, to kanyakumari and Trivandrum, we have covered it all. Wherever we go, Madhu and I have been princesses.

Thinking back, I am not sure if my dad could altogether afford the luxury or the time he gave us. At the end of the day, he has a happy family (knock on wood) and made a great career for himself. But that’s the rosy picture the princess got. Being in the rat race myself, I know my dad had a rocky ride and tough decisions to make. Living without his family in remote corners of India like Kargil and Drass, or Lucknow or Jaipur for five years is definitely not all fun. And when he came home during his “halting time”, the only question his second daughter would ask was “Enaku ena vangindu vantha?” Well he has never once disappointed me.
Again, biking from Annanagar to MRL manali would definitely not have been easy, but he would come back and ask,”Night show anyone?”
These are some of the very few struggles that I have noticed. Or rather noticed only when I look back. He just did not stress us too much with his career or with his disappointments. I have a lot to learn from my dad, but I think the most important lesson to learn from him is how to balance one's career and family. Hats off to thirty-seven years of service and hats off to twenty nine years of marital bliss.

Hmmm

The exhaustive rush from the green-house to lab to the friday morning seminar made me miss my morning coffee. Promptly, my friend brought me a mug to the seminar. The coffee was just perfect. From the temperature to the mix of decaf to Columbian blend, no one could have gotten it so right. Thats when I thought of this.

Another night, three girls bunked together trying to make my friend come out of depression. We watched Sex and the city, grey's anatomy and Private practise over oreo cookies and avacado smoothie till four A.M. Probably not the most unhealthy way of coming out of a relationship. But what the hec, atleast she did not have to take seratonin. We continued the ritual till she could gradually move to "out-door" activities or people.

About recently, an hour of empty, cheesy conversation with my best friend across the seas made me break out my week-long unknown monotony and PMSs.

One of my best memories from college, is taking walks. We used to wait until we loaded our "gel" which would technically take about 45 minutes to "run". We would delve into a little escape into the backyards of our college. The college I did my Post grad in did not have a green campus. But behind the buildings was pretty much wild. I dont think we were allowed to go there. We would sit on a little water tank, and talk. They were the most brilliant conversations I have ever had. We did not talk about people, places or career plans. It would just be thoughts. We would almost reach a schizophrenic state of self-realization with the warm Madras sun on our necks and a bottle of powdery chocolate milk. Looking back I can feel the warmth on my cheecks and twinkle in my eyes that came just from those talks.

Here it is. Raising a toast to all my girl friends who form the thickest whipped cream layer!

diwali!!!

Its 6:00 AM in Madras right now, and the air probably is filled thick with fog and a strong smell of patas is permanently in the air. Without a second's gap there is vedi satham. Its probably the second or third round of crackers, some of the kids' hands are silvered with chemicals. There is definitely "vellai appam" and chutney followed by okkarai awaiting for breakfast and a whole round of patti mandrams and Rajini movies to top it all. My nephew and neice am sure are discussing who burst the first thousand wala and at what time standing below first block, Seetharam apartments, while am googling diwali videos in youtube with a gel waiting in the lab to be run.

I definitely miss diwali at home, though my memories are getting fainter by the year. Its the third year outside home and I have to constantly remind myself of how it used to be. There are distinct memories though. A bunch of us hanging around in third block terrace at six AM after heavy cracker bursting for three hours. There would definitely be one scene putting girl claiming child labour and not bursting patas. Then there would be salwar/frock comparisons, visitng cousins, vellai appam for breakfast and sight aduchufying (the only day probably the men in my apartment used to look presentable), followed by a monotonous afternoon of bijili bursting. The nights were saved for the best new dress and vana vedikkai.

Unsuccessful attempts to make it seem like real diwali in this place. Drawing a maakolam with lamps and making ladu (which is more like boondhi in sugar) makes me look even more stupid. The dot should probably be reminded of the thalai diwali. He has probably spent just four hours sleeping in the last 48hours and is living on a caffeine-iv. Its definitely a better idea not to put undue pressures of nalla-ennai during finals week.

All said and done, its still a lot of fun to have diwali nights way after real diwali is finished, pot luck dinners, light lamps and hear patas over the phone. But the attempts to make this place seem like real diwali will be persistent however stupid it looks.
Happy diwali to all those who have the luxury of India.