So I've been spending a lot of time in the Big Apple lately - and I must say I truly enjoy it.
From being able to travel the length and breadth of the city in a matter of minutes, being able to walk to Times Square and its associated attractions. hail a cab and get anyplace you want - all of these are very liberating. But there is also the huge variety of food - beautifully presented and always fresh.
So here are a few things that I thought were peculiar.
One Sunday afternoon - I took a cab to Brewster station and rode into the city. I arrived in NY with my work clothes and briefcase to pouring rain. There was a fellow selling umbrellas outside the station- but the umbrella did not have a prayer of protecting my luggage. And so, I stood under an awning watching the taxi line grow longer - cos I could not risk getting my work clothes wet. Finally, when it stopped raining - I joined the end of the line.... It was heartening to note that the policeman made sure that no one got a cab out of turn. Only in NY.........
I have seen rickshaws in many countries in the world. Certainly, in India, we are used to thinking of the rickshaw wallah as an exploited, aging man, who struggles through his day. So imagine my surprise when I was approached by a rickshaw wallah on the corner of 57th street and 5th Ave. He was young, white, very fit and very handsome. He looked like he was driving the rickshaw for sport. Only in NY.........
Leafing thru the book in the hotel - I realized that I was within walking distance of a Deepak Chopra center. And that they offered free Guided Meditation. So I thought I'd go and check it out.
It was in Times Square, adjacent to a large Social Club. I walked into that first - and was politely shown the way out.
The Deepak Chopra center is set up like any other New Age spa - though its basement meditation room is truly beautiful. At 6 in the evening , a few others arrived after work. The usual Yoga crowd - some pale, some soft and chubby and me.
The Guided meditation was led by a young white skinned woman who sounded like she had been raised in America. She could not have been more than 24 years old. She started the practice.
She asked us to think about who we were, and what we wanted.. and then without warning asked us to close our eyes and meditate. Fifteen minutes later she tinked a little bell - asked us to say Om and open our eyes.
I've been ripped off many times in the guise of yoga and meditation - but this really took the cake. Fortunately, this was also a free guided meditation, so all I lost was my time.. which in NY can be pretty darned expensive
Thursday, July 10, 2008
The Energy of Youth
This past weekend, I attended a wedding in Missisauga, Canada - a Toronto suburb favored heavily by new immigrants.
There were many things to be joyful about -the wedding, my first North American Family reunion after returning from India, seeing my niece Lily after 4 years, seeing my friend Christine and her family in their new home in Canada, celebrating my mother's 80th birthday.. the list goes on and on. ..
But what struck me most was the energy, vitality and power exuded by the young people of Canada... surely the world is theirs to conquer.
Take for example the wedding that I was at.
While I am sure my cousin contributed to the preparations and the design , and I am certain that his wife watched over the preparations very carefully - there was an indelible signature to the whole event, and surely it was that of the bride and her sister.
Gorgeous in appearance, capable of putting any Bollywood star to shame - the young girls costumes were very carefully designed, their jewellry dazzling.
The celebrations had all the yearning and nostalgia for the old and familiar, but the execution was very here and now. The first event was the Mehndi - the bride and her immediate family - had had theirs done a day earlier - so they could mingle with their guests. An efficient mehndi-walli decorated palms in under 90 seconds - gorgeous and beautiful designs. There was dancing - to current Bollywood tunes.
Similarly the wedding was meticulously choreographed, as was the first dance. The evening drew from Gujrati weddings, Western practices as well as North Indian culture - so there was the formal Gujrati Kanya daan and Phera and Vidaai; then the Bridal March, followed by the bridal dance - a solo performance by one of the bride's cousins and many many toasts. This was followed by a good measure of balle balle. All the menus were carefully picked out - and we tasted a range of foods in the 3 days.
Young Anurag, our 8 year old nephew who was visiting from London, went to the grocery store with Shruti and my uncle to pick out a birthday cake for mom. Man- I had forgotten how good chocolate cake tastes. And the sheer joy of having the candle play a silly tune at the oddest of times.
Christine's older son - all of 16 years old - was doing errands around the house helping his parents with home improvement projects. Her younger son - showed incredible focus on the Nintendo screen - followed by an amazing ability to spin around in circles forever.
Sunali's kids grew up fast while I was gone - they read big books and participate in grown-up conversations when they get in the mood. And I thought they were playing on their little hand held device all the time.
Shruti took the spotlight in all the political debates with her strong position on Barak Obama. Lily delighted her grandmother by wearing all the jewellry and the sarees that grandma wanted to dress her in. She then went and got her other hand and both feet hennaed. Both girls wore saris - and energetically ran around, fetching and carrying and ferrying their grandparents around.
And it occurred to me that all of a sudden, there were a lot of young people that were directing the course of events around us - participating in and changing the world we live on, and the traditions we mauled only a decade or so ago.. ..
And for just one tiny moment, I wished I could exchange places with them...... be as young, as energetic, as beautiful, have my whole life ahead of me.
Of course when I thought about it a little longer - I am happy not to have any more choruses or encores or refrains....... These extra pounds, this fading youth - they have all given me the ability to appreciate youth - I remember how I thought it was a tiresome thing and could not wait to be all grown up.... and so I dedicate this blog to the energy of youth.
There were many things to be joyful about -the wedding, my first North American Family reunion after returning from India, seeing my niece Lily after 4 years, seeing my friend Christine and her family in their new home in Canada, celebrating my mother's 80th birthday.. the list goes on and on. ..
But what struck me most was the energy, vitality and power exuded by the young people of Canada... surely the world is theirs to conquer.
Take for example the wedding that I was at.
While I am sure my cousin contributed to the preparations and the design , and I am certain that his wife watched over the preparations very carefully - there was an indelible signature to the whole event, and surely it was that of the bride and her sister.
Gorgeous in appearance, capable of putting any Bollywood star to shame - the young girls costumes were very carefully designed, their jewellry dazzling.
The celebrations had all the yearning and nostalgia for the old and familiar, but the execution was very here and now. The first event was the Mehndi - the bride and her immediate family - had had theirs done a day earlier - so they could mingle with their guests. An efficient mehndi-walli decorated palms in under 90 seconds - gorgeous and beautiful designs. There was dancing - to current Bollywood tunes.
Similarly the wedding was meticulously choreographed, as was the first dance. The evening drew from Gujrati weddings, Western practices as well as North Indian culture - so there was the formal Gujrati Kanya daan and Phera and Vidaai; then the Bridal March, followed by the bridal dance - a solo performance by one of the bride's cousins and many many toasts. This was followed by a good measure of balle balle. All the menus were carefully picked out - and we tasted a range of foods in the 3 days.
Young Anurag, our 8 year old nephew who was visiting from London, went to the grocery store with Shruti and my uncle to pick out a birthday cake for mom. Man- I had forgotten how good chocolate cake tastes. And the sheer joy of having the candle play a silly tune at the oddest of times.
Christine's older son - all of 16 years old - was doing errands around the house helping his parents with home improvement projects. Her younger son - showed incredible focus on the Nintendo screen - followed by an amazing ability to spin around in circles forever.
Sunali's kids grew up fast while I was gone - they read big books and participate in grown-up conversations when they get in the mood. And I thought they were playing on their little hand held device all the time.
Shruti took the spotlight in all the political debates with her strong position on Barak Obama. Lily delighted her grandmother by wearing all the jewellry and the sarees that grandma wanted to dress her in. She then went and got her other hand and both feet hennaed. Both girls wore saris - and energetically ran around, fetching and carrying and ferrying their grandparents around.
And it occurred to me that all of a sudden, there were a lot of young people that were directing the course of events around us - participating in and changing the world we live on, and the traditions we mauled only a decade or so ago.. ..
And for just one tiny moment, I wished I could exchange places with them...... be as young, as energetic, as beautiful, have my whole life ahead of me.
Of course when I thought about it a little longer - I am happy not to have any more choruses or encores or refrains....... These extra pounds, this fading youth - they have all given me the ability to appreciate youth - I remember how I thought it was a tiresome thing and could not wait to be all grown up.... and so I dedicate this blog to the energy of youth.
Back in the USA !!!
June 13th, 2008 - I formally returned to the USA... I left most of the desi clothes, the image and the lifestyle behind - soon to become a memory as we all move onto new things and heal our bleeding hearts.
When the packers were in the house all 12 of them, and my 2 colleagues, and the 2 maids, Preeti's husband and 2 of his own helpers , and the 2 cousin's with their chauffeur and my chauffeur - and the packing was in full swing - my intrepid niece called.
She asked if I could talk - I told her about the packers - "its kind of important" she said...... "What's up ? " I asked - "Prashant" whom she has known for more than a year, "proposed last night - I wanted to talk it over with you ..." The protective aunt emerged from behind the packing cases and stuff - and we had a long chat - other people supervised the packers - now I can't tell which box has my saris.. It matters not - She can organize the sari for me along with all the other stuff she has to organize.
But back to the USA.
It is difficult to describe how I felt, returning to an empty house on the side of Stormville Mountain. The car battery had died. There was no edible food in the house. No one to fetch me food, and no one to talk to. No long distance service on the phone. Fortunately the cable tv and the wireless modem were still functional. It was quiet and peaceful, and the deer were running around in the distance.
I forced myself to call a garage and get the car started. I made an appointment to have the car serviced. I bought some long distance calling cards over the internet. Exhausted with the effort, I went to sleep.
Early next morning, cos the jet lag was still there, I drove to my favorite grocery store and picked out fresh fruit, like I had not had a chance to do in the past 3 years. I savored every minute of driving around the countryside.
My brother and sister-in-law who were in NY for a visit came upto visit. My niece Shruti carried the suitcases up, and her mother unpacked and helped me put all the stuff away. The suitcase now remains exactly where Shruti left it 3 Saturdays ago - in the hall waiting to be taken down to the basement.
I moped around the house for 2 weeks, getting various things set up and getting back into the mode of living by myself - I miss most my maid Salyani, who would put my stuff away.
Since last week I have been travelling into NY city, rediscovering the joy and independence that NYC offers. And there are people here - lots of people. I think I could get used to living here.
When the packers were in the house all 12 of them, and my 2 colleagues, and the 2 maids, Preeti's husband and 2 of his own helpers , and the 2 cousin's with their chauffeur and my chauffeur - and the packing was in full swing - my intrepid niece called.
She asked if I could talk - I told her about the packers - "its kind of important" she said...... "What's up ? " I asked - "Prashant" whom she has known for more than a year, "proposed last night - I wanted to talk it over with you ..." The protective aunt emerged from behind the packing cases and stuff - and we had a long chat - other people supervised the packers - now I can't tell which box has my saris.. It matters not - She can organize the sari for me along with all the other stuff she has to organize.
But back to the USA.
It is difficult to describe how I felt, returning to an empty house on the side of Stormville Mountain. The car battery had died. There was no edible food in the house. No one to fetch me food, and no one to talk to. No long distance service on the phone. Fortunately the cable tv and the wireless modem were still functional. It was quiet and peaceful, and the deer were running around in the distance.
I forced myself to call a garage and get the car started. I made an appointment to have the car serviced. I bought some long distance calling cards over the internet. Exhausted with the effort, I went to sleep.
Early next morning, cos the jet lag was still there, I drove to my favorite grocery store and picked out fresh fruit, like I had not had a chance to do in the past 3 years. I savored every minute of driving around the countryside.
My brother and sister-in-law who were in NY for a visit came upto visit. My niece Shruti carried the suitcases up, and her mother unpacked and helped me put all the stuff away. The suitcase now remains exactly where Shruti left it 3 Saturdays ago - in the hall waiting to be taken down to the basement.
I moped around the house for 2 weeks, getting various things set up and getting back into the mode of living by myself - I miss most my maid Salyani, who would put my stuff away.
Since last week I have been travelling into NY city, rediscovering the joy and independence that NYC offers. And there are people here - lots of people. I think I could get used to living here.
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