In Search of a Home

Welcome!! Swagat, Dumela, Valkommen, Jee Aayan Noo, Tashreef, Bula, Swasdee, Bienvenido, Tashi Delek. Thanks for joining me......


Saturday, September 21, 2013

Ah Travel!!


Image is God!! Image feeds Imagination (many a times), Image and pictures, no matter what monotheistic religions tell you, are hard to remove from our culture.

Standing in a long que for check-in, I could not help but notice this metal cut out, that preps weary travelers for excitement that they are about to encounter!!  Somehow there is no image of medical tourism.....well, because they know which images to use here!!

And yet, everytime I look at it, whether in image or in reality (I have seen this in more than one airport), it brings me a smile, and lights me with the thought that at the other end of the travel, I may have some adventures, or family reunions awaiting me!!

Sunday, September 15, 2013

If Vogue Knew!!



The above and below picture are not of the same person....but taken at the same time, at the same place, October, 2012


Bhutan, October 2012


I found her breaking rocks by roadside in Paro town.  Her toddler was climbing on her back.  I walked up with my camera.  And tried to talk to them.  They all spoke 'mild' hindi.

Her eyes captivated me.   She noticed me smiling straight into her eyes and she looked away, giggling like a teenager. 

Please, may I take a picture of you?

She giggled and hid her face in her right palm.  Her clothes were old, the sweater seems old enough to unravel any minute, her hands were dry and coarse, tell-talling her hard life, but those eyes could not but reveal the untouched soul.  

It took me a while to get two photographs, because she just would not look at me.  After a few minutes I settled for two shots, neither which of has her eyes towards the camera.  She was simple and straight forward in herself-consioucsness and shyness.

Neither did I ask her name, nor did I pay her for this photograph, nor try to establish any emotional contact.  I was not sure how I felt around this soul, that oozed its essence in the simplicity that it embodied.  

Her friends giggled, and laughed at the attention she was getting.  Somehow, I feel that they knew that they could not give her that royal treatment she deserved!!  Looks, handwork, kindness, simplicity, all rolled into a short Bhutanese/Nepali frame!!  

As I walked away, I kept wondering, how long before that all fizzles after she works in sun and heat, cold and winter, breaking rocks day after day, as she feeds her child by the street.  A stray thought brought me a smile, 'Only if Vogue knew about her'

As the distance between these women and me got farther --I wondered if it was a blessing that Vogue did not know about her.  In that obscurity the woman had maintained an allegiance to authenticity--not to be found in fashion magazines!!  

May be that is why my feet stopped and I knelt in front of her to request for a photograph! 





Friday, September 6, 2013

Trädgård Lakäre!! Garden Doctors!!


The Garden Doctors!!



As usual, I had about a gazillion things to think about as I was walking towards the university.  I have to update the syllabus, after groups have been marked, have to respond to about 15 emails, I also want to go for a walk during the day, how shall we schedule it? wait, did I bring my  lunch with me, or do I have to buy it? Did I forget it on the table?

And in the middle of this check list, I stopped.  And truly paid attention to what was going on around me.

Two men, appropriately attired, had cut out large pieces of grass, and were fixing something around an electric pole.  And then just as quickly they were putting it back, knowing fully well that nature will claim its own, in a few days grass, urged by benign sun will grow back and there will be no signs left of the surgery they had just performed.

'Aha moment!!

I know--these men are the Trädgård Lakäre!!  the Garden Doctors!! 

I turned around and said it aloud.  The older one who was the first one to get the message said, 'Precis!!" and nodded heavily.

Precis, is the Swedish word for Precisely!!  I love the expression!! 

The younger one without a hat, chuckled.

May I please take a picture of you both and may I put it up on my blog!!

Absolut!! said the older one.

They both posed.  And here is the picture.

The Garden Doctors.  We are all doctors, teachers are soul doctors, politicians are nation doctors, doctors are doctors, and then those who make our garden look their healthiest, well,

Trädgård Lakäre!!  Garden Doctors!! 


Monday, September 2, 2013

Abhay





NATIONAL PHYSICAL LABORATORY :-The main aim of the laboratory is to strengthen and advance physics-based research and development for the overall development of science and technology in the country. In particular its objectives are: To establish, maintain and improve continuously by research, for the benefit of the nation
, National Standards of Measurements and to realize the Units based on International System (Under the subordinate Legislations of Weights and Measures Act 1956,reissued in 1988 under the 1976 Act).


 To identify and conduct after due consideration, research in areas of physics which are most appropriate to the needsof the nation and for advancement of field To assist industries, national and other agencies in their developmental tasks by precision measurements, calibration, development of devices, processes, and other allied problems related to physics. To keep itself informed of and study critically the status of physics.

Pictures courtesy Google.



If I remember correctly I have known him since KG—Kindergarten.  We were in the same class, from KG till grade 12.  He was a quiet boy.  I have memories of him running around in the playground.  There are not many memories.  We did not talk much.  He was a shy boy and being a dreamy head, I lived in my own world.  There are very few boys from school I was ever close to.  But I remember Abhay because he seemed synonymous with sincerity.

In India names are given great importance.  Everything from people to houses are given a name, in special naming ceremony.  The energy of the name is supposed to bestow the person, place or a thing with respective energy. Therefore a house named ‘Anand Vihar’ can literally become a reflection of  ts meaning--‘an abode of joy’. 

Abhay means fearless.  And yet, I do not remember him ever being in an argument, let alone a fist-fight.  He was always a good student with high and steady performance on his report card.  If I remember correctly he lived near, around or in the NPL campus.  National Physical Laboratory, which was right behind our house.  We used to set our clocks by its 9 am siren.  NPL requires another blog-post.

Our school uniform was green and white for summer time, and steel grey-wool, white and green in winter.  So primary school memories are of girls in green tunics and white shirts, boys in white shirts and green shorts.  From my eyes today, we all seemed so clueless, without any understanding of life.  I, myself, had many visions, hopes and goals.  Most of them colored by the images I saw on TV or the big screen.

Somewhere in there is the image of Abhay as a skinny boy in white and green school uniform running around recess time in school grounds.  An interesting thing about our school was that, though it is a big name today, it was a new school, set up in residential area, had quite humble beginnings, but worked with high level of teaching.   Starting from grade three students had to read newspaper and sometimes come to the school assembly and read headlines.  For English, Hindi and math, we had three exams.  For both the languages we had three exams each, about three times a year, on literature, grammar and recitation, and a dictation once a week to help us learn spellings and punctuation.   Recitation or elocution was real fun, we had to memorize poems and passages and then recite in front of the class. This helped us combat our stage fears and perfected our pronunciation.  Abhay, had a mild stutter, but even as children, we never thought it awkward.  May be because of Abhay’s sincerity.  He delivered all his poems very well, with appropriate stops, some deliberate others involuntary, but with confidence.   For math, we had alzebra, geometry and the math quiz.  The two former ones are obvious, but the last one was something unique.  We would have to 30 solve short problems in 30 minutes.  It helped us build speed of doing calculations in our minds, without using any calculator.  For all other subjects, especially social sciences we had something called the ‘open book’ exam.  We were allowed to refer to our books during the exam.  It was not as easy as it seems, if you had never opened your books before, there was no way you could answer them.  Often these questions involved comparing chapters and concepts.

Another interesting thing about our school was that most of the students came from the surrounding areas, and so we all not only knew each other but also each other’s siblings, and parents, for we were very familiar with ‘who’s who’.  I do remember seeing Abhay’s mom a few times. 

One distinct and probably the last memory I have of Abhay is when we graduated from high school.  I used to go for coaching to DPCC, Delhi Public College of Competitions.  DPCC is a special coaching school to train students for entrance exams to professional colleges and universities, namely, engineering and medicine.  I met him outside the college, while he was riding his bike home.  A true gentleman that he was, Abhay got off from his bike and walked his bike all the way till we got near to where we lived.

 We were only sixteen at the time.  Today when I look back, it seems like such a nice, simple, wise and honorable thing to do.  Especially since our grown selves know that we have little time for others.  If we meet people today we are most likely to bid good bye before we even hug each other, and promise to meet sometime in the future, which may never happen.  Because while we plan, and promise, we never truly intend to sit down and talk, because nothing is truly invested in the person.  In that innocence, and age of ‘free time’ we knew that that is how memories are created. 

By stopping, sharing and slowing life down.

Or we did it, just because that was the only thing to do.  But it was a different time. 

I have barely had any contact with Abhay since that day except when about 13 years ago, I got an email from him. Which is when I got to read his last name for the first time. I think it sounded Marathi (Those from the state of Maharashtra, of which Bombay/Mumbai is the capital).  But for me Abhay was a classmate, a Delhite, and a good dedicated student.   And then we exchanged a few emails.  He told me that he had moved to Bombay for a while, where he thought people were more honest than capital city we both called home.  He also told me that he had two daughters (if I remember correctly). I always felt bad that I never had the time to write back long emails but mainly, with years, there is nothing much to say.

Recently I saw him on linked-in and this time it was I who sent him an invitation to connect. 

I still do not have much to share or say.  But I want to stay connected, to see where a man named ‘fearless’ goes.  To occasionally hear the stories of his way of life.  To people, he might seem an average guy leading a family life.  Regular, and far from extraordinary.  But I know that Abhay’s sincerity in his work and life is nothing short of a feat in a world where we focus on benefiting the self at every turn.  Some even might say that its an act of fearlessness!!