Ms. Winky is at it again

Come rain or snow, there is no stopping the dance of the happy heart.

Old world charm

It seems that names from yore are making a come back in fashion these days... Parvati, Lalita, Padma.....

I am beginning to develop a fondness towards them, the ones with the great mythological histories. And yes, there is a strength and sexiness in the different names for Parvati, dont you think?

Lalita -- the light of Shiva's eyes
Uma/ Gauri - the golden one
Parvati - the gentle mother
Shyama - the dusky beauty

I wish I had one of those names. Maybe I'll name my kid one of those names...and have her hate me for choosing such an ancient name in the modern world.

Passion

Every once in a while comes the exhilarating moment that catches your breath and swings you on the clouds, leaving you there with that joy. Not the happy contentment, but the one that adds a spring to your steps.

I had the chance to attend a cultural fest this week. Came out feeling so glad I went :-)

From the mini-cheerleading, so-proud-i-could-cry moments during my school's performance (Go Meera!), to the the oh-so-dreaaaamy Besame mucho from Guadalupe, to the AMAZING(yes, in capitals, TomKat style), musical piece on the Mohin Khuur it was an evening to die for.

Guadalupe's voice and smile left me in tears, bringing back the years when BoyZone and Enrique Iglesias were on my list of "when I meet them, they will fall in love with me and kill their wives to marry me". The guy has a voice that reminds me of soft steps over dewey grass on an early morning. Oh! He definitely knows how to perform....and use his charms and captivate. It was refreshing to see someone who knew his lemons.

Contrast that with the gentleman from inner Mongolia who let his talent speak for him, humility personified. I was amazed at the range the violin like instrument could produce! And Mr. Bo reminded me so much of Kunnakudi Vaidyanathan, him of the 1-rupee-size kumkum mark on his forehead and the incessant energy. The way he moves to the music as if he can "feel" it within himself, and channelizing the emotion of the song from his soul! I can still remember his melancholy when announcing someone's passing away on DD through his tribute on violin, and the stark difference it had to his pongal/diwali appearances.



I am so glad I have the ability to enjoy music and dance so much!

Pleasure

Wake up on a lazy saturday morning, browse the web and work under a tree, birds keeping you company with their songs, and the faint sound of the water fountain in the background.

I am beginning to like California.

Bravery starts early

Shaken, and stirred

A loved one gets hurt. You want to gather him/her in your arms and swish him/her away to a safer place where they will be far from harm, and you'll always be with them to protect them, support them, take care of them.

One psychotic parent coming up!

Am I the only one pitying my future kids here?

Nothing rattles you more than seeing your pillar of strength wobble...

PS: Yes, I am going through a philosophy meets introspection meets I-miss-home phase, with generous garnish of paranoia :-D

Venting out

For some time now, I have been debating if we should move back to India...you know... reaching your insides for "how exactly do I feel" to reading posts about experiences of others who have moved back to taking a survey of things in India when I was there to reading Shobha Narayan's huge PDF. All done. Still confused.

Yeah.. I do know that we will eventually. Our parents. But then, I was scared about living in India and even more scared to no longer be the "special" persons we are when we visit for that one month in a year. We would be ordinary joes, know all the troubles our parents have, see the troubles in person, see random people hustle our parents in public transportations and in the heavy traffic. Here I am seething with rage at the woman who yelled at my dad when we tried to cross the road while she was driving her two wheeler. Her "Aaaaiii Aaaiii" and irritated expression made me want to slap her. How would I handle a regular dose of this?

But then, I read this. Nostalgic. I dont think I can create a memory like this for my kids if I stay here. Not with all the cousins. Not the mangoes or the bhel. Not the grandparents. Perhaps our friends can take the role of Aunts and Uncles..... but still, not the mangoes.

*sigh*

My dad fell down and cracked his knee. He makes a joke of it -- thats the person he has always been. Wrings my heart out to see him suffer but still smile to deceive us, to save us the worry. I wish I were with him.

I miss my parents.

Does it really show?

Orkut knows everything. Maybe this is the divine intervention I have been waiting for all these years. I finally know that my decision has destiny's blessings as well.

Today's fortune: You and your wife will be happy in your life together

The evolution of culture

I read a book today. Stories about a typical Indian city. One of those stories was about an Americanized Indian immigrant woman who visits her mother's city in an attempt to get to know her choice.

She stays with one of her 'relatives', and has long chats with him about the Indian culture. The reason people are the way they are, and how it started out to be. That was when it struck me -- how social practices for convenience evolved to be the Indian culture.

I began my thought thinking of how the Indian clothes were often roomy, and tastefully masked the generous lower half that most of us are bestowed with. But no, it seemed to me that the human evolution followed the cultural one. The hot climate dictates that you wear roomy clothes and cover yourself from the dust.

We seem to have started as a very environment friendly cabal, and coming a full circle now with the advent of Tree huggers. Everyday chores were aimed at giving back to the environment and taking care of those lowest in the food chain as well. Like how you eat in a banana leaf, which is then given to the family goat/cow/plant eater. You dont kill the ants that are excited to follow the smell when you eat, but create a moat around the mound of food with water so they are gently dissuaded from reaching their goal.

Its amazing we had such carefully thought practices, and yet we shun them now and choose to rot in the filthiest interpretation, choosing to ordain oneself elite or oppressed by caste. It is a futile exercise to blare our Nation's pride if we encourage closet racists.