thirty-four: Haldiah and Odds/Ends

In the week since my last post, much has happened. Yes, some of the time we relax in the cool and quiet of the flat, but we have been on the go for the rest of the days after lunch. Earlier in the week I ventured with my aunt, mother, and family friend into the chaotic heart of Kolkata: Boro Bazaar. Because of the great deals, it is a wonderful place to get done with shopping, but it is a tumultuous trip requiring patience and street smarts. (Thankfully, my aunt is quite the expert at bargaining and navigating the throngs of people in the streets.) We used multiple forms of transport that day: metro, taxi, hand-pulled rickshaw, car. Boro Bazaar was a visual carnival with its rows of vendors (fruits, hair clips, buckets, bags, anything you could imagine) and the narrow alleys leading to bright colors of sari shops and jewelry. Without the brief respite from the crowded streets - so crowded moving often was difficult - in the A/C market, I may have gone crazy. The long day, punctuated with some yummy dosa for lunch, neared an end with a confusing rickshaw ride through the streets back to our car.... when the rickshaw-walla didn't understand our directions. Culminating the trip was negotiating with the goonda (small time gangster) trying to charge us 20 rupees an hour for parking - a ridiculous sum for parking in that area. Our family friend - might as well be my aunt! - immediately argued back: Sure, I'll pay that rate. First show me the paper where it's written officially? Suddenly the rate fell to 10 rupees an hour. Awesome. Sprawling with exhaustion on the bed back at home, I asked my sister, What did you do today? Why do you look so tired? She sighed, We watched three movies today. I groaned.

We've done many other things: drink delish street chai, learn poker, spend time at Tollygunge with my grandmother, hit up huge malls, spend time with old friends from back in Michigan, but this weekend we've ventured to Haldiah, a town 2.5 hours away from teeming Kolkata when the traffic was good. Today? Today it was not, and we reached my mother's childhood best friend's house in four hours. She and her husband are doctors in this area, and have the fortune of living in a lovely, yet big flat and duplex community. There's a gorgeous lake near the guesthouse-villa we are staying at in this gated community, and it's understandable why people come here to vacation. The drive here was pretty uneventful, and it was nice to just sleep and watch the deep green of rural West Bengal pass by.

Anyway, we are currently playing Egyptian Ratscrew (the only card game we can think of to pass time) and I am also reading Q&A by Vikas Swarup. Q&A, the book which inspired Slumdog Millionaire, puts the movie to shame - the movie, though already with an element of fantasy, seems even more glossed over and illogical once you read the book. The book is well-written and realistic and miles away from the movie in terms of plot. Read the book, now!

Anyway, we should be eating soon.... back to reading!

(And happy birthday Dani if you're reading this! :) )

thirty-three: kolkata

We're finally here: Kolkata in all its hot, humid, sweaty glory. Currently, we have escaped the Ballygunge flat for my aunt's house... a change of scenery. My sister and my cousin Rudhir are involved in an intense pillow fight and Debjani and Chandni, my other two cousins are watching. We are waiting for our cousin Dyuti to get out of the shower to go to lunch.

Being here has been.... interesting. In some ways, I feel a disconnect from my other cousins who always get to talk to each other and are so close and in some I am still so glad to be here. I just wish we actually did stuff, like actually begin shopping, hanging out at places, and so on. But it's so awfully hot right now. Sigh.... I guess Calcutta always has me in mixed feelings.

I've been occasionally practicing my Bengali more, but I feel very self-conscious still and can't always grasp the words I want properly. It's embarrassing. And then my mother always has to tell people I take Hindi at school and expects me to practice speaking that, too! It's a lot of pressure, sometimes, and I do feel a little inadequate. That isn't to say that I haven't been brushing up on hindi. I do have my hindi books to practice exercises and have been consequently racing through some of my lessons from last year... it's nice, even relaxing.

We'll see how this trip goes. I know parts will be very enjoyable, but I am still apprehensive for some reason...

thirty-two -- bangalore and mysore (day 1 cont'd, day 2)

street vendor in Mysore (July 21, 2009)

Since we have decided to relax at home today, I now have the time to briefly describe our last two days in Bangalore. Monday we visited the gorgeous Shiva Mandir and yesterday we visited Mysore. It's nice to play the tourist in India, for once. Too often we're just caught in the middle, shuttled from flat to a relative's house, seeing India but not really seeing it. See our pictures here.

I SEE:

• strings of jasmine flowers in long dark hair
• a Shiva statue twenty times my size, striking against the blue night -- wondrous
• eco-friendly volvo busses (more expensive than a normal bus)
• a profuse number of alcohol advertisements (Kingfisher, Bacardi, Smirnoff)
• silver chudiyan (bangles) on our wrists, purchased from vendors at the Mysore Palace. they jingle and are very pretty.
• cloudy gray skies and cool weather
• in Mysore, humans and horses and cows
• people swarming the Chamundeshwari temple, straining for a glimpse of the heavily-garlanded goddess far in the back
• the Supriya Pig Mutton Hotel (Gablu: Nina didi, they call everything a hotel here! And it's true.)
• auto-rickshaws, Marutis, one Ford, motorbikes
• new buildings and malls and giant billboards
• the shabby prettiness of Vrindavan Gardens, the magnificence of the Mysore Palace

I TASTE:

• egg omelettes and pancakes
• chicken fry and noodles
• "authentic Karnatakan South Indian Thalis... veg, but still good!"
• McChicken and fries
• daal, rice, fried aloo

I FEEL:

• exhausted (poor nights of rest, still jet-lagged?)
• tense (still acclimating)
• awed by devotion (Shiva Mandir and Chamundeshwari Temple)
• overwhelmed (are temples supposed to be so stressful?)
• restless (I want to see the city more!)

thirty-one -- bangalore, baby! (day one)

When the humidity hits you, you know you're in India. Stepping off the plane in Mumbai, the three of us felt so thrilled to be nearing the end of our approximately nineteen hour flight. Only hours later, we finally landed in the vast, sparkling expanse that is the Bangalore airport. Contrary to my previous memories of Indian Customs, the process was smooth and rapid. (Probably because it was about 4:00 AM!) Waiting for us outside was one of our good friends from Michigan, Sandip Kaku ("Sandip Uncle"). His family had moved to Bangalore five years ago and only now we managed the chance to hit up South India.

Yes, this is my first journey into south India... my first journey in India that's not Bombay or Calcutta or about relatives. And really? I like what I see. The weather, for one, was the biggest surprise; cool and breezy like springtime in Michigan. It, of course, was dark when we returned to Uncle's gated subdivision, but the glimpses I saw in the dark painted the picture of the rising metropolis the world talks about. Huge apartment buildings were going up on either side of the roads, juxtaposed against the "old Bangalore," of mom-and-pop shops and a little shabbiness. The hour trip home went by quickly as I attempted to absorb what little I could see outside. Sandip Kaku described the changes he had seen in the last five years and the contrast to the India he grew up with. There's shopping malls, theatres, grocery stores -- everything at your fingertips when you have a car.

"But still a long way to go," he said.

The statement is both encouraging and discouraging at the same time. Must India really recreate the West in order to consider itself "developed"? Will the rise in this massive, massive consumerism lead to the materialism plaguing the West? India is majority Hindu, and a large principle is the detachment to material goods and goals for True happiness. While I am encouraged by the rising standard of living, I am concerned people will now equate money and goods with happiness even more than before... And is this standard of living rising across the board for all income classes? I doubt it.

This community is beautiful. Bangalore, according to our friends, is much greener than many big cities in India. You notice that too -- there's a lot of lushness and big trees here. Lots of pretty flowers. The buildings in this community in particular are just like two-story houses at home, almost reminiscent of the typical California architecture. I am amazed; it's nothing like what I have seen in Calcutta, though I am sure places like this exist there for Indians from abroad. It is really, really nice and a funny sort of culture shock... the shock of how insulated you can be. No, it's not a bad thing at all! Just... different from what I am used to!

Today we will be getting a mobile phone and checking out some spots in the city. Perhaps some shopping? We'll see.

Until then! Peace and love,
Nina

thirty --

Tomorrow, we'll be on a plane to India. The thought is so foreign and far away, yet familiar and soon at the same time. I only wonder how all my many cousins have changed, if we will all still get along, if I will still fall in love with India. I am very excited to see that brief glimpse of Bangalore and Mysore, two places that aren't Bombay and Calcutta. (I realize I haven't explored either of these cities to the fullest -- too young when I last went -- but it will be really wondrous to see a new part of India, sans relatives who may be bored with it all.)

I am excited, exhausted, and full of too many thoughts tonight. That would be what I get for not meditating today...

India, India, India: here I come.

twenty-nine -- what's in Nina's backpack?

some photo of a guy backpacking.

(no, this is not what i will be doing in india.)

I guess I'm blogging like crazy these last few days I know I'll have regular Internet access. It's been three years since I have last been to India and I am still not sure if, a) our relatives have computers they'd share, b) my mother will let me go to an internet cafe. Heaven forbid something happens, right?

Anyway, I'm almost done with packing. Going to Indonesia for a month helped me realize what I did and did not need - and that I could have gone with a smaller suitcase. Thus, my small carry-on suitcase which I am forced to bring carries many gifts for the relatives and my larger suitcase holds the bulk of my clothing. Sigh. That is the problem of traveling to India after a few years: gifts are necessary for all the relatives and my mother likes to get lot of her saris and salwars specially cleaned in India. (And that, my friends, is why the three of us will probably have six to eight suitcases. Sigh, again.)

Still, I love packing my backpack carry-on -- that's what this post is about. Unfortunately, this trip isn't going to be about volunteering or exercising my brain or anything like that... mostly chillaxing and visiting with gazillion family members. (ahhh, I am really excited to see them, though!) Our only strictly touristy exercise will be going to Mysore when we stop in Bangalore. This means I have lots of time to read, walk, reflect, choreo that IASA dance. LOVE IT.

Nina's Backpack
Books (starred are the ones in my backpack, rest in suitcase)

• Right Thinking, Swami Tejomayanandaji, pamphlet*
  
• Discovery of India, Jawaharlal Nehru
• Blindness, Jose Saramago
• Undoing: Returning to Simplicity, Rudite Emir*
  
• Self-Unfoldment, Swami Chinmayanandaji
• The Art of Living, Swami Chinmayanandaji
• Secret of Action, Swami Chinmayanandaji, pamphlet*
  
• Three Cups of Tea, Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin*
• The Brain That Changes Itself, Dr. Norman Doidge*
• My Hindi textbook -- to brush up while there and also good practice for this coming year!*

Writing

• Two notebooks (1 for Hindi, 1 for note-taking)
• Journal
• Spare journal (I think I may run out of pages while there, the amount I write)
• Pens, pencils...

Miscellaneous

• toothbrush-paste
• set of clothing
• chocolate, mints, gum, chapstick
  
• neosporin and band-aid magnet set
• hand sanitizer
• large, foldable, batik cloth purse
  
• electronics (iPod, camera, chargers, converter plug)
• earrings, japa-mala
  
• empty water bottle
• knee bandage
• wallet

Yes. All of that fits in my backpack. And not too heavy, either! I'm such an organization freak.

twenty-eight: morning musings

picture of lilies from applewood estates, taken tuesday.

It is almost 10:00 AM and again, I am hungry. Well, that usually seems to be the case when I return from super-long walks. I like super-long walks, for the reason that I get to listen to all 277 (now 268) songs on my iPod. Meaning, I must add a bucket load of new music to my iPod before I leave other wise I shall go insane from listening to the same songs whilst abroad. (Yes, I did just use the word whilst.)

Today was the day of cancellations: Dani couldn't go to the Art Fair and Ryan had to take care of his dad. Or something. Either way, it helped me get up early. I need to be more regular with the little yoga I do... but I enjoy meditation much more. I think I am getting a little better at focusing-slash-clearing my thoughts? I'm not sure. I've been thinking, "There is no I, just One" and that has helped immensely. And then I pretend that all distinctions are blurred, if that makes sense. Trippy, I know, but... okay, I won't blather on meditation, or it will turn out like one of my first posts devoted to my amazing Tevas.

What else? I must continue and finish packing tonight and perhaps clean the random messy corners of my room. The overall feeling is of neatness -- until you look in the corner between my sofa and desk. Yikes and yowza.

My tongue still remains burnt from my pizza jaunt with Dani and the sister last night. I was just so hungry and thus paid the price.

There is nothing else of note to say right now, so I will end this post. Maybe write more later.

Ta.

twenty-seven -- harry potter and vedanta

I will be the first to admit that I was an awkward child growing up. I hit puberty in about fifth grade - it sucked - and was taller and chubbier than everyone else until I was shorter and chubbier than everyone else. This was through middle school; in high school I became a more active dancer, joined marching band, slimmed up. In middle school, I had terrible self-esteem, was painfully self-conscious, and felt like I couldn't make friends in large groups. Sometimes, I feel like those things linger, but we won't dwell on that! Anyway, books were and always will be my solace when times get rough.

The most formative of the books I read in middle school and early high school was, of course, Harry Potter. People have ranted and raved about the series left and right - a money ploy! stupid plot! pagan worship! and thus. Harry Potter, of the many books I've read, was the series I could escape in. Each time I re-read a book, I'd find more and more little details - it was fascinating. Everyone who knows me well realizes I enjoy the movies as well. We each can have our minor quibbles about what the directors left in and left out, but I thoroughly enjoyed Half-Blood Prince last night. It was a fabulous movie, not necessarily 100% at all on the basis of the book. Acting has improved significantly and it was also a pretty funny movie, too! I laughed a majority of the time.

Re-reading HBP, I definitely saw its connection to Vedanta, as geeky as I am. Promptly emailed into the CHYK group... They probably think I'm weird, but.. sigh.

Let me take an example.. page 384,, Apparition class:

• To Apparate, or to basically teleport from one spot to another for those unfamiliar with the series, the students must master Destination, Determination, and Deliberation.
• "Step one: fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination," said Twycross. "Step two, focus your determination to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!"
  
• "Splinching, or the separation of random body parts," said Wilkie Twycross dispassionately, "occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continuously upon your destination, and move, without haste, but with deliberation, thus."

When I read that again, looking at it differently, it reminded me a little of mumukshutvam, or the "burning desire for liberation," as our acharyas put it. Limitations from what? Limitations from the body, in the case of Harry and his friends, but the limitations on happiness for us.

Chapter Twenty-Six (The Cave), where Harry and Dumbledore go after a Horcrux is also a good illustration of the Guru-shishya relationship and how they support each other. Also Chapter Twenty-Three (Horcruxes) does a great job presenting Voldemort's fear of death (release from the physical form) and Dumbledore's patient explanation on the power of Love.... All very relevent topics, I think! It's pretty awesome what you can see in books and it continues to baffle me why groups ban such books which actually have a great message.

Cool.

There is so much I would like to or could write... but maybe another time.

twenty-six -- grandma

Today marks four years since the death of my grandmother, my dad's mother who lived with us since my childhood. She was a fiercely independent, headstrong lady -- not without her flaws, of course -- whose heart was full of love and cookie jar full of treats for her granddaughters, even after she stopped working. Moreover, Grandma was generous in her prayer and work; bhajans always playing in her bedroom and the sometimes thick smell of incense. Bill Clinton was her favorite politician and her carrot cake was the best. (Okay, and rasgullas too. And sugar cookies. And muffins. And...) When I was very young, she used to transcribe the stories I dictated to her and even wrote my favorite letter of the time - "W" - over and over again when I asked. There were a few years where she returned to India. My sister and I still have her letters - careful script on blue airmail paper addressed to us, still little kids wouldn't quite read.

There were times, especially when I hit my teenage years, where I was rightly frustrated with her when I learned more about her, more about the grandfather I'd never met. In many cases, though, that teenage anger was misplaced and I often regret some of things I said. But like my mom, Grandma would forgive, put away her own hurt, and love us the same. My sister and I would wait eagerly for the nights Mom and Dad went out; that meant we'd get a rare pizza party in the house, with my Grandma around.

Near the end, when we knew she was probably not coming home, she'd always call me her little doctor. I could tell which days she wasn't feeling so good by holding her hand. "Squeeze my hand as tightly as you can, okay?" Sometimes the grasp was strong, other times her hand would fall limp. Before all of that, when she still was in the house, I'd scold her for the chocolate ice cream bar she'd sneak out of the freezer.... especially since she had diabetes. Yeah, one of her biggest hopes for dad was that he should be a doctor -- and he could have, easily, he almost did. Still, I sometimes felt for a while that I had to be doctor, just for grandma. (Sorry, Grandma, I gave that idea up sometime in 11th grade.)

At her funeral, I admit to feeling numb and unaffected, the thought of her death not fully realized. Tears couldn't be summoned, but I was crying on the inside. The service was beautiful and the support from the community, great. It hurt to watch my dad press the button to ignite the cremation. It was a plain warehouse; people didn't usually hold cremation ceremonies there. It didn't feel right.

Grandma had been in and out of the hospital and into the hospice for so long that year that it didn't feel like she wasn't there with us. With regard to her passing, I didn't feel anything for a while. Life moved. But there were times I would acutely feel her absence or acutely feel her presence. Maybe exactly two or three months later, I broke down after marching band rehearsal and started bawling. Couldn't stop. One of my best marching competitions that season, I could feel her watching.

And life moved. It really did. For a while, I felt like our family was fractured, irrevocably changed in subtle ways - I mean, she did live with us since... forever. Laughter didn't come so easily and we were all fighting about little things. Sometimes it feels like Grandma left us just recently, other times I feel as though it may have been ten years ago. Four years have passed since then, I think my parents have finally come to terms.

After all, if you think about it in terms of Hinduism, we're all Happiness, all part of One. She is the same Happiness and I am. So, while I do sometimes miss you a lot, Grandma, I think I've broken that attachment to that body that was you. I still have the memories, and a love for you, my family, and life in general which is a lot more eternal.

twenty-five -- observations

It's funny how surprised we are at the little things, like holding open a door for someone. The couple I opened the door for almost looked shocked. What? A Liberal, Self-Absorbed (or absorbed in the Self, haha, get it?), College Student taking the time to open a door? Wow. It's almost a sad commentary on American society. Imagine how much we can surprise people only if we did something like hold open a door... an act which only takes a few minutes.

As usual, since returning from CHYK camp, I've had plenty of time to reflect on certain things. After all, there is only two weeks remaining until we leave to India... nothing much can be done in terms of a job, so on. But as I may have mentioned before, I'm trying to be diligent about meditation, reading, journaling, and cleaning. And, of course, longlong walks and listening to my iPod. I feel it's easier to unclear the clutter of thoughts that way.

Today, I'm in Ann Arbor and living in the Fishbowl (computer lab) until it's time to go... See, I had an advising appointment and an internship interview. Yeah, the advising appointment was to make sure I'm on track for my basic requirements and to see if yeah, I could really take Indonesian and Hindi both. Turns out I can, and that's a big relief. The interview... well, I think it went well, but I don't want to say anything before they let us know.

I really love this campus... it feels nice and I really do not regret coming here, though I do sometimes regret not applying to some other schools. But, oh well, right? I am content where I am. I hit up one of the contacts for the UM chapter of CHYK... so I hope they are active this coming year, because I'd love to help make this a great discussion group -- a consistent, insightful, and enthusiastic chapter.

anyway, that's all I have to say for now... time to go back to playing ridiculous typing games..!

twenty-four -- poetry: vending machine of dreams

Sometimes I dabble in writing. It has been a while.

 vending machine of dreams, by Nina

the $one-twenty-five scramble.

past old tissues pens a notebook

-- ch-ch-cha-ching change sinks in

rumbling, spitting out a bottle

(an unforgiving, unwanting mother)

an average break

for the average time

for an average person.

(there once was a time...)

twisting the cap open -- !

fizzing froth on fingers

spilling like the ambition of --

spilling like the dreams of --

(there once was a time.)

sticky-sweet syrup; carbonation

slides down smoothly, 

-- suddenly sickens

you throw the bottle away.

twenty-three -- CHYKtastic

On Sunday, I returned from about a week in the Chicago area. No, it wasn't some trip with my friends, full of shopping and art museums, but rather a Chinmaya Yuvakendra (CHYK) retreat at Chinmaya Mission, Badri Campus. It's for 18-30 year olds. Six days of meditation, yoga, and spiritual discourses with Bramachari Prabodhji Chaintanya of San Jose and Acharya Vivekji of Niagara Falls. I realize that the titles sound super confusing when you look at them and evoke a very powerful image, but their power lies in their understanding of the Vedas (the main Hindu religious texts) and their ability to take that knowledge and break it down to us.

Prabodhji, Swami Sharananandaji, Vivekji

I don't remember if I've written this in a blog post or in my journal, but the balance and centeredness I saw in Bali reignited my desire to explore spirituality, to explore Hinduism. Returning home, I went to the graduation at our temple, and really enjoyed listening to Vivekji speak (thereafter, I attended his next few discourses). See, Vivekji is a pretty young guy and knows how to make things relateable 100%. It was he who mentioned the CHYK camp, and the rest, I guess, is history. Prabodhji, our other guru, was equally amazing. He has a formidable voice, adorable quirks, and a very easy smile. I learned so much from our twice-a-day classes and out-of-class discussions with them. Swami Sharananandaji, Badri's resident acharya, however, was the best example of selflessness, humor, and devotion.

Moreover, the knowledge given to me came not just from the acharyas (teachers), but also from my peers. About 40 to 50 recent high school graduates, college students, and grad students. Everyone for the most part wanted to be there and wanted to share that knowledge. It was awesome, learning both in and out of lectures and having a good time. We shared music, danced, chilled...everything.

It was a good reminder of what I've learned and of the things I need to continue remembering.

1. Happiness/Spirit/God/Essence IS everything.
2. Knowledge removes ignorance.
3. The qualities of a spiritual student.

Those were a few main points, out of the many we learned... Our discussion group even did a proof on joy as human nature. Maybe I'll post that up here sometime... Anyway, I thought I'd give an update, you know? Now I'm trying to keep up my mediation, the little yoga I know, walking, and reading books... Yeah. :) Even looking into the Dharmasevak two-week course in Cali, which is more intenstive Vedanta study.