For Valentine's Day!!

From Feb 16, 2018--this comes a day late...but wish you all love --not romance as it is told, but love. Will write about this later.  For now, just wish you the warmth of love, amorous and agape... 
 A collection of pics that will make you all smile....None of these pictures are mine....

Please notice the expression of of both the mothers.  And the little one whose expressions are visible...

Simple --Dainty--Ladylike--and Au Natural!!

And this one has a special meaning.  When I was sharing this with my sister, her little one looked at it and said, 'How much off if you bring your mother along? 0%?' Don't think he realises how funny that was on so ooo many levels.  He just turned eight only a couple of weeks ago!!

Back to HatLand!

So this was first published on October 25, 2010. More than 9 years ago and my first year in Sweden. I remember thinking, ok now I can get back to my hats and sweaters. I used to collect hats. Not any more. Time, age and interest all change. And it is really cold, you ought to be practical. Mossa, the soft knitted or wool hats are the most used. Then there are the fur hats, that I wear sometime. Like the ones you see in Dr. Zhivago. You know the Russian Kind. Then there is a that special strip that covers your ears. Finally, I got to use ear muffs at some point. But the last two years its been so warm in Christmas. And Goteborg where i spent the last semester, is fairly warm. I did not even need gloves. As much as I love snow, i won't deny I enjoy it.


So here is this for you to read. I remember sharing it with a friend's son, who was 11 at the time. He read the whole thing and then wrote me an email 'Didn't know someone could write so much about hats!!'. Kids, as they are...

Hope you enjoy this.

Yes the images are altered!!

Simple tools allow us to alter images drastically. Here, the features used are saturation, tint, and altering the contrast of the original.

Although it was a sunny day here on September 15, 2010, I could feel the chill. 

Yesterday (September 28), we experienced minus 2 degrees centigrade.

My coldest September ever. 

Inside the house, without any heat, we can feel the drop in temperature late August and have to turn on the heat. I am still not at a complaining stage. Not Yet.
Funnily enough, I enjoy it. 

But when I compare to my September in Pennsylvania which was always pleasantly warm, this is really cold. In Pennsylvania, one starts wearing jackets middle or late October. But here it seems that we never really pack our sweat shirts and fleece jackets. Even in June, the rainiest of month. 

On this blog, I have tried to keep away from personal stuff. I write generic thoughts with wide applicability. Then the personal stuff goes in ‘several’ of my journals, which is getting difficult to maintain. Reading and writing are a part of my day job. There’s not a single day when I do not have to read or write. 

I think meditation should be a required subject at all levels of education. A little talk on meditation will come later. In another blog entry. 

Today I wanted to write about my love of hats. And a need for them as well.

Even as a child, I loved hats. May be because I did not like my face much, hats were a perfect accessory. But in winters, in North India, you need them. 

Then my decade and a half (nearly) in the US (east coast) made them a necessity. I used some cotton ones in Fiji, but what I really needed there were straw hats and baseball hats. I wore both. But not often. I just got used to sweltering heat, and sweat beads trickling down my face. 

Over the years, I have piled up a good collection of hats and scarves. All colors and sizes.
Around mid September I pulled my hats out, from the suitcase that has barely been opened in the last five years. It has my woolens. I took out crumpled sweaters, wrinkled scarfs and bent out-of-shape hats. 

This one, plain cotton, slightly stretchable, solid black, looks almost like an Amish hat. The first thought that came to my mind as I walked out the door, and realized everything just fit-- was…

“Ah, Back to Hatland!!”

Although slightly formal, it did not feel out of place, and fit well. I remember D, a friend from Penn State saying, you wear these with a “panache”. Someone else had called me a ‘topiwali’--the wo(man) with hats.

However, I always thought of hats, as both a necessity in winters and a symbol of cultural pride. 

Hats, like outfits, are indicators of their geography and occasions. Or they used to be. The ones with feathers, the ones with embroidery, velvet caps from Russia, Woolen caps from Afghanistan, the Gandhi cap, simple and modern enough to unite India, the baseball hat that has much wider and functional use now than just on the field or just in the US. Then there were several type of turbans in India. Sometimes to cover the head in cold climates, and sometimes as a protection from heat. I especially love the ones from Rajasthan, bright, colorful that don the heads of dark skinned men that lead the caravans, sing deep from the heart, and dance with the same abandon as does a peacock in rain. One look at them and I think of all the colors of rainbow!! And the simplicity with which they carry themselves.

My closest contact with them was at Apna Ustav (Our festival), a country wide festival of folk culture in India organized by the then Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi. Folk artists came to schools and colleges and exposed us to their ways of life, singing, dancing, pottery, painting and much more. 

So, here in Sweden, a world far, far away from all that color and heat, I just felt a kinship with all the ‘hat people’ as I thought of all those lovely people and the various reasons for which they dress their heads.

In the middle of the day, while going out for lunch, I ran into a man who I had never seen before. 

He pointed at my head, moved his hand back and forward in emphasis, and said, “that is a perfect hat!!”. I loved his accent.

I, wanting to respond in Swedish, fumbling for words, could say nothing but gave me a smile too wide and broad for a cold, mildly sunny day and simple bowed from my waist. Almost like bowing to a king. I was thanking him for noticing!!

As, I walked away, I wished I had said something but I think my gesture was expressive enough. And not always are my jokes and gestures understood, because of the language. Learning Swedish is taking time. Men, svenska inte latt (But, Swedish isn’t easy).

Two days later, I ran into him again. This time I was without a hat, but my smile was just as bright, and he said, “you are just a happy, happy person, both inside out.”

“Thank you”. Although at mid day I had already had a long day.

He pointed at a ‘cross’ on my backpack’s strap. You from Switzerland?

“No, from India, but ….”

“The US?”

“I lived there a long time...and you?”

“I am from Alabama maself.” This time I definitely heard a twang. Ah, so that was the accent.

“Really?” I wondered if he is just putting the accent on.

Look, he pointed at a sticker of the US Flag, pasted on his cart. “I came here many years ago, married a Swedish woman, started a family,” he leaned against the cart, “and now can’t get out.” and smiled regardless of his words. 

I still thought he was joking. 

“You must like it here though”

“Something like that.”

For a short while, I was home, and I connected as I would with someone I consider from ‘home’. I never lived in the South, but those division diminish with distance. And the US is the US and a little southern ‘twang’ can even sound close to home and heart. Much that I am deeply grateful that I left the US, every once in a while I get separation pangs. It is as if you got to know something and then were not allowed to claim it. The love of lands and those things that come with it, be it hats, or accents, is much like the deep romantic love, that is never lost, even when it may never see fruition. No matter how many ‘new’ or ‘practical’ loves come between you and your beloved. And one memory can bridge the distance, and melt the heart. 

\
Surreal? no!! super surreal!!

I have seen him one more time since. He told me that with the years his trips to the US have reduced. He reiterated the same thing that a gentleman I met in England way back in the 90s had said to me, “If you decide to go back, do it when you are young, first I missed my siblings and parents, now I can’t live without my children.”

Always a prisoner, I thought, of love. May be fear is a better word. Fear of being alone, which we remain no matter what, no matter where, no matter with who.
What he said made me think of both the enormity and precariousness of my own continent hopping lifestyle, and yet acknowledge my miniscule, inconsequential existence. I remain everywhere, and yet complain when I am inside my skin. I am ‘every woman’ and ‘man’ who struggles to find meaning, yet limited to the ways in which I want to seek it.

For a few moments I was silent inside. Just like we all are, for a fraction of a second, right before we realize any level of intensity in our mind...pain, pleasure, joy, euphoria. If you notice, right between the stimulus and response there is a split moment, when we are simply too immersed in it to think or react. That, interestingly, is also the moment when we do not relate to anything and exist in the absolute present, Shortly after that silence and acknowledging that all the issues I struggle with still remain unresolved, I walked on my way, albeit with a smile. 

My family knows that I have an old habit of breaking into songs when there is nothing left to say…..and this time, here is what came to mind…..an old favorite, featuring one of my favorite faces in the world…(you will know who…)
Jeevan ke din chote sahi,Hum bhi bade dil waleKal ki hamein phursat kahanSochen jo hum matwale

Short are the days of life
[But] we have large hearts
Who shall worry about tomorrow [I say]?
[when] we are carefree & [too] busy enjoying today!
Welcome to HatLand!!
Where under the warmth and shades of hats,
with reduced hours of light,
Lengthened hours indoors
the head and the heart unite!!
(PS: This meaningless rhyming of words is mine!).
PS: Here is someone who can sing pretty good himself.

Holding On, Letting Go: Kan Orka/Orkar Inte

PS: 371st Post!!  Yeah!!

See this?  the blue light on the eye of the city? Goteborg?  This is an Nojesfall, an amusement park. It name? Liseberg Park.  It has one of the oldest roller coasters in the country. Might even be in the world. In summers it is an amusement park.  In autumn, a haunted house and in winter, a dream land!

It is decorated every Christmas like a magic kingdom.  Every evening after I was done with the class and some work, I would walk up to the park just to view this.  However, did not realise until later that its 'other entrance' was only 200 metres from the hostel that I was staying it. 

Hmm---when we are not awake and paying attention.  But also when we have goals we run after them...sometimes not realising that using short cuts is not cheating but 'smarts'!!

Wish I had been awake!! Many years ago.  But its taken me time, some--time.

That is the value of mentors.  They shine light on things you need to do. Remind you of things that you are passionate about.  Highlight your skills and passions. 

Finally, I went to Lisberg park again this year--.  But only for a few hours. Had nothing to eat because all the food is greasy, starchy, sugary and absolutely delicious!!  But I was there only a short time--with an idea of making a short film.  I got some footage --might share it with you all. But I am starting a separate youtube channel. The thing is that at some point I might start using my name, but I love this blog and the freedom it provides me. 

So, I stay without a name. Or just an accidentally seasoned hobo!!

So, just a bit about me as a person or as I perceive myself.  Nothing personal.  But an observation.  I used to be this deeply calm person.  Meaning there was little that would make me angry.  I always wondered, why I never got angry.  Yes, sometimes at family.  But I had had no argument with anyone, until I was in my mid-twenties and already lived on my own for nearly half a decade. Which is huge at that age.

At some point, I snapped. I wrote letters and remembered sending gifts, and remembered birthdays and made cooked huge meals for people---but then---in return there were arguments, put downs, silent treatments and unfair accusations. 

Or so it seemed to me. What ever it was, I lost my calm.  From then on, I would oscillate between being absolutely saintly and irritated all the time.

Let me be very clear, while our present day world tells us that marriage etc. are not important, it is a stage in life that is necessary. It allows you to become a part of a larger context.  It is required for feeling whole.  Because whether or not people get married, they 'couple'.  They find live in partners.  They co-habit. Not calling it marriage does not take away from the fact, that the aim is still to get all the benefits that marriage was supposed to provide, without the sacredness of marriage. 

Recently, there is something else I have added to my list of thoughts---marriage keeps a lot of 'crazy out'.  Most people are nuts. Yes. Women have an added advantage of being emotional and get away with unreasonableness for nearly a week every month (hence using them in combat is not without its dangers).

So marriage is required. You can call it cohabitation.

In my case there was marriage or nothing. So, well, one thing it was.

When you are open to the world in that way, you need to learn to ride on or hide from the tides.  But what if you are walking towards them?  Financial insecurity, lack of mentorship, burglaries, confusion of national and cultural identity, dry period of friendships?? You must weather it all. 

With grace? Sure--how possible it is? Det beror på!! (it depends).

For my own sanity, I need to learn about how to get back to sanity.  And have been doing so for the last decade.  But more importantly for the last 4 years.  I fail many times, but then again, I rise up. Dust myself and start walking again. 

A friend of mine mocked me, 'You think you are spiritual huh?' said the person.

'But spirituality is a process' I retorted/or replied.  And it is.

Been reading about neuroticism.  Because of some irrational arguments with people. 

Neuroticism is not diagnosed, it is not a mental illness but a personality trait. More women than men.

Spirituality can bring a way of 'putting a break, a pause' to that neuroticism. 

So much can be said here. But I have had a dialogue with myself for the last several years. I am going to sit down and ask myself, where is the 'love'? Friendship. and Is this a friend I can lean on when I miss? mismanage? fail? behave badly? Or must I always be on my best behaviour (which mostly I am, and I go out of my way to be there for others). 

In that I have realised that I truly do not have much energy to keep giving. I have to get back to my career and a few relationships that matter to me. Those who have stood by me.

Orkar inte as they say in Swedish. I have no energy!

Working on the old adage---

Let go of people and see if they return.  If they return the friendship was strong to begin with. If not, then length of the friendship had nothing to do with strength.  

And in that case, there is nothing you can do about it.  Neurotic folks, yes me included, will continue to think about it for years.  But it is a dog chasing its tail.  No end to it.

Every once in a while, get that dull, monotonous tasting Chamomile tea out, sit down twiddling your thumbs and recognise the energy that these thoughts are taking. 

Take a deep breath in and breath out!!

Stand up and walk into the magic, that is our life!!