Monday, 21 January 2013
Books Retired 4
Books Retired 3
Wednesday, 17 October 2012
1962: Fifty Years On...
50 years have passed since India lost its first war with China. The defeat has left scars that will never really heal for Indians who were around at that time. Even as a 7 year old I remember the general atmosphere of doom and gloom. The older people would wait for the newspaper every morning hoping for some positive news, and crouch around the radio at night for more of the same. They were disappointed day after day. The shame was recreated in movies, fiction, art and poetry, and also of course in all the political discourse of the day. Fifty years on the media is busy with other stuff but some brave souls persist in holding up a mirror to all the scars of 1962. In hindsight it was all so avoidable.
Mohan G. has provided a short summary of the events. He, boldly, names the two people who played a big part in first building up and then mismanaging the crisis. Both the key people cleverly managed to protect their lapses subsequently. http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/lead/in-dubious-battle-at-heavens-gate/article3992126.ece
Abheek Burman has brought out several aspects of the crisis that were suppressed around that time. So much so that one whistleblower were hounded till long after the war. And one brave officer whose foresight and judgement was questioned in the build-up to the crisis -and who suffered the ignominy of capture and public humiliation in China- was further stigmatized by a gross and unfair whispering campaign. He later wrote his memoirs in an attempt to clear the air. Appropriately it was titled "Himalayan Blunder"...
http://blogs.economictimes.indiatimes.com/folk-theorem/entry/lies-forgeries-and-a-war
Madhu Gurung has chosen to share the human stories associated with the terrible events of that period. In three parts she has covered a lot of ground with survivors and witnesses:
Part 1: http://www.thehindu.com/arts/history-and-culture/memories-of-an-unsung-war/article3941699.ece
Part 2: http://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/society/meenakshis-tezpur/article3967935.ece
Part 3: http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-features/tp-sundaymagazine/for-the-debt-of-salt/article3995720.ece
Madhu and her husband Shakti are both from my school. Shakti is a batchmate and a serving general in the Indian Army. Madhu's family also had a link with the Services. The shame, the pain and the urge to do right by the sufferers, the survivors and the witnesses is therefore even more pronounced in Madhu's case.
The Hindu seems to have done its bit by carrying Mohan and Madhu's writing. Economic Times' coverage was a pleasant surprise. But the definitive account of the debacle still awaits its Shirer...
Mohan G. has provided a short summary of the events. He, boldly, names the two people who played a big part in first building up and then mismanaging the crisis. Both the key people cleverly managed to protect their lapses subsequently. http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/lead/in-dubious-battle-at-heavens-gate/article3992126.ece
Abheek Burman has brought out several aspects of the crisis that were suppressed around that time. So much so that one whistleblower were hounded till long after the war. And one brave officer whose foresight and judgement was questioned in the build-up to the crisis -and who suffered the ignominy of capture and public humiliation in China- was further stigmatized by a gross and unfair whispering campaign. He later wrote his memoirs in an attempt to clear the air. Appropriately it was titled "Himalayan Blunder"...
http://blogs.economictimes.indiatimes.com/folk-theorem/entry/lies-forgeries-and-a-war
Madhu Gurung has chosen to share the human stories associated with the terrible events of that period. In three parts she has covered a lot of ground with survivors and witnesses:
Part 1: http://www.thehindu.com/arts/history-and-culture/memories-of-an-unsung-war/article3941699.ece
Part 2: http://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/society/meenakshis-tezpur/article3967935.ece
Part 3: http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-features/tp-sundaymagazine/for-the-debt-of-salt/article3995720.ece
Madhu and her husband Shakti are both from my school. Shakti is a batchmate and a serving general in the Indian Army. Madhu's family also had a link with the Services. The shame, the pain and the urge to do right by the sufferers, the survivors and the witnesses is therefore even more pronounced in Madhu's case.
The Hindu seems to have done its bit by carrying Mohan and Madhu's writing. Economic Times' coverage was a pleasant surprise. But the definitive account of the debacle still awaits its Shirer...
Friday, 31 August 2012
Books Retired 2
This is the second list of retired books! There is some
spill-over of authors from the first list: Castaneda and Von Daniken. Then there is Lobsang Rampa, an Irish
plumber who decided that he was actually a Tibetan monk who had been granted
this body after the original body had become unusable after Chinese (or was it
Japanese) torture and extreme privation.
Over a dozen books he spun a yarn about growing up in Tibet as a child,
being inducted as a monk, being initiated into the most abstruse mysteries and meditation
in chambers deep below the Potala palace, moving across to China and so on. All
I imagine of Tibet is from what I first read in Rampa’s books as a child. I went on to read authentic accounts by
others eg Heinrich Harrer’s “Seven Years in Tibet” andk later, even more
prosaic histories. Yet, somehow, the mention of Tibet brings up the images
implanted in rich detail by Rampa. This would be tolerable if the same was also
not true of Buddhism in general. No other account of Buddha’s life or of the
four noble truths, or of the eight-fold path has been able to fully erase the
images created by Rampa. Later reading , of other texts, only seems to add
detail to those memories. For that, I cannot really forgive the rascal! (Update: I was somewhat dismayed to learn that Rampa wrote more than a dozen books. Evidently I had stopped buying his work after acquiring 12! But I was relieved to learn that many Tibetologist referred to The Third Eye as the book that triggered off their interest in Tibet and related stuff - presumably including Buddhism http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lobsang_Rampa )
While at school I had heard of a book that was the opposite
of a dictionary. One went to it to get a word when one already knew the
meaning. I never could buy a Thesaurus while in Dehradun and was therefore very
happy to buy a copy in the Galgotia book shop branch located inside the IIT
Delhi campus (on the ground floor of the main building itself). I went on to
buy another copy as well, eventually, but did not much use either. Somehow the
discovery that the thesaurus was essentially a listing of synonyms was a great
comedown. What was I expecting, I wonder!
There was a period when, egged on by a fond teacher at the
IIT, I started toying with the idea of a life in literature. Luckily I shook
off that idiocy but could not shake off some of the baggage that I had picked
up. Sheer sentimentality! I have retained a copy of Derrida gifted by Rahul and
let go the others over time, including, now, the three survivors here (the one
with the spine side up is a History of Modern Criticism, no less!).
Finally Sperling and Schindler were my first introduction to
psychology made popular: a genre I was to encounter almost countless times in
my reading. Both belonged to my father. There is no special reason to hold on
to them. They were not classics in that genre but it is amazing how little
popular advice has changed in matters of importance to lay people.
Books Retired 1
There are too many books in the house. Here is the first set of books that I am retiring. Mostly they belong to my father. He had many interests. I shared some and am retaining books relating to those. I do not share others any more. Hence this list..
Velikovsky had this interesting theory about disasters on earth that could have had extraterrestrial origins: meteoric collisions, proximity of other heavenly bodies and the like. He combined astronomical data and a close (and selective) reading of myths recorded in texts from different religions and regions to support his thesis. This was not completely outlandish as some accounts, eg of a devastating flood, are remarkably similar in renderings across the globe. Also, the fossil records do show mass extinction of species at regular intervals with a periodicity unmatched by any periodic physical phenomenon on earth or our solar system. An article in Nature some years back speculated on the possibility of a large comet with a highly elliptical orbit that might be passing close to earth at those kind of intervals. Respected astrophysicists like Hoyle and Wickramsinghe have speculated on the seeding of life on earth via comets …However Velikovsky’s work does not generate interest any more, except amongst some die-hard fans on the Net. He may have had smart ideas but astronomical data does not support his claims.
Carlos Castaneda spent time with Don Juan, a Yaqui Indian shaman, trying to understand the spirit world. He went on to write several books on his encounters via Don Juan, with healing, with other spirits, with other shamans (who sometimes took the form of vicious animals) and even with death itself (which came in as a crow). Since many of these experiences were preceded by extensive preparation including physical regimes and the consumption of Native Indian hallucinogenic drugs, Castaneda’s interesting experiences have been often discounted. Of course there is a tradition in every region, which parallels this. In India we have our own Aghoris, and Tantrics in general, whose canon is very similar. The fact that the disposals list includes two copies of “The Eagle’s Gift” shows my own deep, though, brief, interest in Castaneda. (I had to have my own copy. My father’s copy was heavily underlined to reflect his interests and that was a distraction for me because my reading of the same text was different…)
Charles Berlitz created a whole genre of writing that saw the imprint of current and past alien visits everywhere and was also obsessed by tales of the mythical continent of Atlantis that was supposedly host to a technologically advanced civilization that vanished when this landmass sank in the sea in some strange cataclysmic event. This group of writers also credited governments with strange research and cover-ups. The Roswell Incident involves a captured alien and wrecked UFO. The Philadelphia Experiment refers to a battleship that was briefly rendered invisible with permanent mental disability to the crew. The Bermuda Triangle has become too famous to need any description. And so on. Fascinating reading if one is prepared to suspend all judgment and ask no questions. Accounts of strange geometric properties and near-magical powers of the pyramid form in general, and the Egyptian pyramids in particular, are integral to this genre. The most outlandish of these is probably Ruth Montegomery, whose hardcover book is shown (spine side up) in the picture. She believes a lot in on-going alien encounters and abductions, and the presence of aliens amongst us in the form of both humans and animals. Scary.
Edgar Cayce is a fascinating case, of an ordinary average Joe who at one point of time started going into long trances. He seems to have spent most of his adult life in that state. While in trance, he would describe great technologically advanced civilizations of the past and the events that led to their demise. He would also describe events in the future (a bit like Nostradamus) and offer guidelines from on high for conducting life on earth. His utterances were recorded, transcribed and published as a series of books. They spawned a whole bunch of other books that sought to interpret Cayce’s words, summarize them and in rare cases, debunk them.
Erich Von Daniken looked at the shape of ancient religious structures like temples and saw spaceships. He looked at representations of gods with halos and saw spacesuits. He read the ancient texts describing the arrival and departure of gods (in noisy storms of dust) and saw flying machines. He read about the battles of gods and saw modern armaments including missiles. He visited Nazca and saw landing grounds for flying machines of a superior race of humanoids from another planet -that sought refuge on earth and also continued their battles on earth. Fascinating reading again, with compelling illustrations and photographs! Sadly there are alternate explanations for all this, which do not involve extraterrestrials. (Update: It was interesting for me to discover that Ridley Scott has acknowledged Daniken for some ideas used in Prometheus http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erich_von_Däniken )
“The Wit of Prince Philip” is an interesting exception. I picked it up dirt cheap, from a pile on the street, because while the cover says what it does the book inside is actually “The Burnt-out Case “ by Graham Greene. (I had a lot of time those days and did not judge a book by its cover). Later I bought a proper copy of that book but kept this one for laughs and as a conversation starter. Neither reason is valid anymore.
There were originally many more books of the kind that I am disposing today. Over the years I got rid of them and kept a few representative ones. Why I did that, and why I am making this list only now when my father is dead, are questions that I cannot answer. Maybe I kept them on the off chance that he would recover from his disability and want to read his favorites again. They had long ceased being of interest to me.
Velikovsky had this interesting theory about disasters on earth that could have had extraterrestrial origins: meteoric collisions, proximity of other heavenly bodies and the like. He combined astronomical data and a close (and selective) reading of myths recorded in texts from different religions and regions to support his thesis. This was not completely outlandish as some accounts, eg of a devastating flood, are remarkably similar in renderings across the globe. Also, the fossil records do show mass extinction of species at regular intervals with a periodicity unmatched by any periodic physical phenomenon on earth or our solar system. An article in Nature some years back speculated on the possibility of a large comet with a highly elliptical orbit that might be passing close to earth at those kind of intervals. Respected astrophysicists like Hoyle and Wickramsinghe have speculated on the seeding of life on earth via comets …However Velikovsky’s work does not generate interest any more, except amongst some die-hard fans on the Net. He may have had smart ideas but astronomical data does not support his claims.
Carlos Castaneda spent time with Don Juan, a Yaqui Indian shaman, trying to understand the spirit world. He went on to write several books on his encounters via Don Juan, with healing, with other spirits, with other shamans (who sometimes took the form of vicious animals) and even with death itself (which came in as a crow). Since many of these experiences were preceded by extensive preparation including physical regimes and the consumption of Native Indian hallucinogenic drugs, Castaneda’s interesting experiences have been often discounted. Of course there is a tradition in every region, which parallels this. In India we have our own Aghoris, and Tantrics in general, whose canon is very similar. The fact that the disposals list includes two copies of “The Eagle’s Gift” shows my own deep, though, brief, interest in Castaneda. (I had to have my own copy. My father’s copy was heavily underlined to reflect his interests and that was a distraction for me because my reading of the same text was different…)
Charles Berlitz created a whole genre of writing that saw the imprint of current and past alien visits everywhere and was also obsessed by tales of the mythical continent of Atlantis that was supposedly host to a technologically advanced civilization that vanished when this landmass sank in the sea in some strange cataclysmic event. This group of writers also credited governments with strange research and cover-ups. The Roswell Incident involves a captured alien and wrecked UFO. The Philadelphia Experiment refers to a battleship that was briefly rendered invisible with permanent mental disability to the crew. The Bermuda Triangle has become too famous to need any description. And so on. Fascinating reading if one is prepared to suspend all judgment and ask no questions. Accounts of strange geometric properties and near-magical powers of the pyramid form in general, and the Egyptian pyramids in particular, are integral to this genre. The most outlandish of these is probably Ruth Montegomery, whose hardcover book is shown (spine side up) in the picture. She believes a lot in on-going alien encounters and abductions, and the presence of aliens amongst us in the form of both humans and animals. Scary.
Edgar Cayce is a fascinating case, of an ordinary average Joe who at one point of time started going into long trances. He seems to have spent most of his adult life in that state. While in trance, he would describe great technologically advanced civilizations of the past and the events that led to their demise. He would also describe events in the future (a bit like Nostradamus) and offer guidelines from on high for conducting life on earth. His utterances were recorded, transcribed and published as a series of books. They spawned a whole bunch of other books that sought to interpret Cayce’s words, summarize them and in rare cases, debunk them.
Erich Von Daniken looked at the shape of ancient religious structures like temples and saw spaceships. He looked at representations of gods with halos and saw spacesuits. He read the ancient texts describing the arrival and departure of gods (in noisy storms of dust) and saw flying machines. He read about the battles of gods and saw modern armaments including missiles. He visited Nazca and saw landing grounds for flying machines of a superior race of humanoids from another planet -that sought refuge on earth and also continued their battles on earth. Fascinating reading again, with compelling illustrations and photographs! Sadly there are alternate explanations for all this, which do not involve extraterrestrials. (Update: It was interesting for me to discover that Ridley Scott has acknowledged Daniken for some ideas used in Prometheus http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erich_von_Däniken )
“The Wit of Prince Philip” is an interesting exception. I picked it up dirt cheap, from a pile on the street, because while the cover says what it does the book inside is actually “The Burnt-out Case “ by Graham Greene. (I had a lot of time those days and did not judge a book by its cover). Later I bought a proper copy of that book but kept this one for laughs and as a conversation starter. Neither reason is valid anymore.
There were originally many more books of the kind that I am disposing today. Over the years I got rid of them and kept a few representative ones. Why I did that, and why I am making this list only now when my father is dead, are questions that I cannot answer. Maybe I kept them on the off chance that he would recover from his disability and want to read his favorites again. They had long ceased being of interest to me.
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
Carpenters in the forehead...
I remember a particularly rough night at college when coloured patches -mostly purple- were pretty much all that I could see no matter which way I turned. A few strong friends had to carry me back from the open air theatre all the way to my room. I did not see much action the next day as I kept my eyes closed to avoid being spun out of my bed. A lesson was learnt and nothing close to this ever happened again. However I wish I knew of St. Vivian back then...http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2008/05/26/080526fa_fact_acocella?currentPage=all Is there any place better than The New Yorker for finely crafted prose?
Tuesday, 23 August 2011
The Occasional Blogger
Now I know why it took me this long to post: I have competing selves, I have not used an 'extended will', I am a hyperbolic discounter of future benefits of current action, I am felled by the 'planning fallacy' and am not doing enough of 'classification and definition'.
http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/books/2010/10/11/101011crbo_books_surowiecki?currentPage=all
I am happy to know that I am not just plain lazy.
http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/books/2010/10/11/101011crbo_books_surowiecki?currentPage=all
I am happy to know that I am not just plain lazy.
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
MeA
Oxford University Press has just brought out a glossy hardcover book containing all the dialogues of 'Mughal-e-Azam' (MeA). It has a foreword by Javed Akhtar and an introduction by Nasreen Munni Kabir. Ms. Kabir has done a lot in recent times to bring interesting facets of the hindi film industry to a wide set of readers. I cant think of anyone who has done anything comparable now or in the past. MeA is a landmark film and an all-time favourite. Even the story of its making is fascinating to hear -what with the extravagant sets, the funding problems & delays and K. Asif's maniacal attention to detail . The film set a new high in the use of urdu in hindi film dialogues and this was possible because the dialogues for this film were jointly written by - not one, not two but- four leading writers of the time : Amanulla Khan, Kamal Amrohi, Ehsan Rizvi, & Vajahat Mirza. The book is a delight to behold and hold. On opening, it presents an 8.75" high and 21.5" wide view of four elegant columns of text. From left to right these contain the english translation of the dialogues, the roman script transliteration of the urdu to allow accurate reading, the rendering in devanagari script and finally the original rendering in urdu script. At the end the book recreates the magic with a set of large full-page colour prints of key scenes from the film. Strongly recommended as a collectors' item. It is priced rather steeply at Rs 1500 and that may put some people off but MeA fans may decide to forego other pleasures for a couple of months to indulge in a lifetime of evocative reading and re-reading. The book becomes even more attractive when one notes that it contains all the dialogues and songs including those edited out by the recent colour version of the film. Every MeA fan has his or her own favourites among the dialogues many of whom can be elegant, sharp and moving all at the same time. I cannot help reproducing my favourite which will need no elaboration of context for MeA fans: "Shahenshah ki in behisaab bakshishon ke badle mein ye kaneez Jalaluddin Mohammad Akbar ko apna khoon muaff karti hai .."======================================== " The Immortal Dialogues of K. Asif's Mughal-e-Azam"; 250 pp; Oxford University Press; 2007
Tuesday, 7 July 2009
July
July has many important dates for me. Mita and I decided to get married on July 7. The year was 1977 and that makes the date easy to remember: 07-07-77. We went to see a movie called 'See No Evil, Hear No Evil' in Priya (Vasant Vihar, New Delhi). This was well before Priya became a swanky multiplex. After the matinee show we should have just gone our separate ways (home for Mita and hostel for me; college had ended for both of us but I was still holding on to my room while I did my internship at the National Physical Laboratory, measuring the conductivity of polished silicon wafers). However we decided to go to Connaught Place instead, and have tea and snacks in Wenger's. (This was a restaurant over the bakery by the same name. The bakery is still around and popular but the restaurant has closed down.) By the time we decided to pay the bill and walk to Super Bazar to board route 620 it had turned dark and a drizzle had started up. Not the best time to be in CP. The market pretty much shut down at 7:30 pm those days, and the passages were taken up by unpleasant characters pushing drugs, among other goods and services. Somewhere during that walk we made up our minds.
July 6 became another important date for me when Amma died in 1983. I was in Bangalore with Mita. We were expecting our first baby. Vivek knew Ratnakar, the librarian at Raman Research Institute, who knew someone at Indian Airlines, the only domestic airline at that time. A ticket was organized for me to fly to Lucknow the same evening. It is not clear who actually paid for it. I merely paid back Vivek later. Sykes was mobile because he had a small moped. He gave me a ride right across town to the airport and Parvati took an autorickshaw to see me off at the departure lounge. I would never have made it without all of them. The flight took me to Delhi. I spent the night in a plastic bucket chair at the airport and took the connecting flight in the morning to Lucknow. When I reached home Amma had been cremated. It was hot and humid and not the right weather for keeping a corpse at home. Besides my father was not expecting me. He had not told me of the death. Valya had sent me the telegram on her own. I went to the bedroom and cried in her arms near the empty bed.
Agam was born on July 13 the same year. Mita had gorged on chana dal the previous night at Vivek’s house (she had moved in there while I went to Lucknow) and had vomited it all out on the floor. She and I cleaned up the muck using lots of newspapers. Vivek and Lakshmi had just got married themselves and must have been scared to see what they were getting into. Mita started having pains the next morning and I tried locating Dr. Leela Pai using a public phone. She moved around a bit those days between her home, her clinic and several hospitals and there were no mobile phones around. I got lucky the first time itself and she asked us to move to St. Philomena’s Hospital right away. She came in soon after we checked in and Mita was wheeled away. I scootered down to Parvati’s office nearby and she came back with me to provide support again. Agam was born a little after noon. Parvati handled him before Mita or I. She brought the little bundle out to give me a quick preview before he went to the nursery where I would be seeing him through a large glass window for the next few days. He looked very small and wrinkled. Not at all like the babies I had seen before, and not at all like the pretty baby he became later.
July 4 was always an important date for many people especially those associated with the US but it became important for us when Shivam started becoming a part of our lives. Since my ‘GK’ was good enough to include the Independence Day for the US, I never had a problem remembering this date. Normally I find it very hard to remember birthdays and anniversaries. I had known two Shivams before this but they were both boys and in fact I know no other girl by this name. I have to take the next opportunity to find out how she came by this name.
July 5 joined the list of important dates this year. It was important enough by late afternoon when we took delivery of Mita’s new Honda Jazz. This was her first new car since she had been using hand-me-down second-hand cars all along. Also this was pretty close to her desire to own a ‘red Toyota’. She had mentioned that several times in college and later. Red Toyota may not be the same as Blue Honda but it was close. We drove the car to the Sai Aangan in the blistering heat and took the Prasad from the lone priest present. Mita bought and offered a coconut, some flowers and a couple of incense sticks. A little girl was chatting with the priest, no doubt angling for more and more of the Prasad that he was packing in small paper bags for the evening. She came up to Mita and asked for her name. Then she asked Mita about my name. Finally she offered to give us some water from an earthen pitcher in Sai’s recreated kitchen. I guess she just wanted to play with the long-handled metal can used for the purpose. When we came home and parked the new car we took out the old Accent and parked it on the road outside the condominium. There was no place for it inside anymore. As luck would have it the broker Mita had spoken to earlier showed up before sundown, paid in cash and drove the car away. It all happened very fast. I felt something funny inside as I saw the old faithful (-six years and so many memories-) vanish down the road. Later that night we settled down in bed to watch Andy Roddick take on Roger Federer at Wimbledon. That is when Agam called to tell us. Apparently there had been an email from Shivam a little earlier but since I had not checked my mail it really was a surprise from me. And what a happy surprise! I had vowed to go to Tirupati but with all that is happening at home after my father’s hospitalization that will have to wait a bit. I did log on to TTD’s e-services and make a donation next morning.
July 6 became another important date for me when Amma died in 1983. I was in Bangalore with Mita. We were expecting our first baby. Vivek knew Ratnakar, the librarian at Raman Research Institute, who knew someone at Indian Airlines, the only domestic airline at that time. A ticket was organized for me to fly to Lucknow the same evening. It is not clear who actually paid for it. I merely paid back Vivek later. Sykes was mobile because he had a small moped. He gave me a ride right across town to the airport and Parvati took an autorickshaw to see me off at the departure lounge. I would never have made it without all of them. The flight took me to Delhi. I spent the night in a plastic bucket chair at the airport and took the connecting flight in the morning to Lucknow. When I reached home Amma had been cremated. It was hot and humid and not the right weather for keeping a corpse at home. Besides my father was not expecting me. He had not told me of the death. Valya had sent me the telegram on her own. I went to the bedroom and cried in her arms near the empty bed.
Agam was born on July 13 the same year. Mita had gorged on chana dal the previous night at Vivek’s house (she had moved in there while I went to Lucknow) and had vomited it all out on the floor. She and I cleaned up the muck using lots of newspapers. Vivek and Lakshmi had just got married themselves and must have been scared to see what they were getting into. Mita started having pains the next morning and I tried locating Dr. Leela Pai using a public phone. She moved around a bit those days between her home, her clinic and several hospitals and there were no mobile phones around. I got lucky the first time itself and she asked us to move to St. Philomena’s Hospital right away. She came in soon after we checked in and Mita was wheeled away. I scootered down to Parvati’s office nearby and she came back with me to provide support again. Agam was born a little after noon. Parvati handled him before Mita or I. She brought the little bundle out to give me a quick preview before he went to the nursery where I would be seeing him through a large glass window for the next few days. He looked very small and wrinkled. Not at all like the babies I had seen before, and not at all like the pretty baby he became later.
July 4 was always an important date for many people especially those associated with the US but it became important for us when Shivam started becoming a part of our lives. Since my ‘GK’ was good enough to include the Independence Day for the US, I never had a problem remembering this date. Normally I find it very hard to remember birthdays and anniversaries. I had known two Shivams before this but they were both boys and in fact I know no other girl by this name. I have to take the next opportunity to find out how she came by this name.
July 5 joined the list of important dates this year. It was important enough by late afternoon when we took delivery of Mita’s new Honda Jazz. This was her first new car since she had been using hand-me-down second-hand cars all along. Also this was pretty close to her desire to own a ‘red Toyota’. She had mentioned that several times in college and later. Red Toyota may not be the same as Blue Honda but it was close. We drove the car to the Sai Aangan in the blistering heat and took the Prasad from the lone priest present. Mita bought and offered a coconut, some flowers and a couple of incense sticks. A little girl was chatting with the priest, no doubt angling for more and more of the Prasad that he was packing in small paper bags for the evening. She came up to Mita and asked for her name. Then she asked Mita about my name. Finally she offered to give us some water from an earthen pitcher in Sai’s recreated kitchen. I guess she just wanted to play with the long-handled metal can used for the purpose. When we came home and parked the new car we took out the old Accent and parked it on the road outside the condominium. There was no place for it inside anymore. As luck would have it the broker Mita had spoken to earlier showed up before sundown, paid in cash and drove the car away. It all happened very fast. I felt something funny inside as I saw the old faithful (-six years and so many memories-) vanish down the road. Later that night we settled down in bed to watch Andy Roddick take on Roger Federer at Wimbledon. That is when Agam called to tell us. Apparently there had been an email from Shivam a little earlier but since I had not checked my mail it really was a surprise from me. And what a happy surprise! I had vowed to go to Tirupati but with all that is happening at home after my father’s hospitalization that will have to wait a bit. I did log on to TTD’s e-services and make a donation next morning.
Monday, 9 April 2007
Eggs, sugar,and pizzas....
This weekend the Economic Times had a piece by Vikram Doctor on the use of eggs in Indian cuisine. He made the interesting point that the domestic hens the world over are probably descended from the wild indian fowl and it is therefore strange that many people in the country shy away from eating an egg. Even an unfertilised egg. The piece also had curious references to indian sweets made from eggs. I was not aware of these. In particular I liked the idea of the Moplah sweet called mutta mala which is a string of batter fried egg yolks. The theme of food continued to resonate in other pieces in the newspapers that day. There a was this piece in the Hindu about a book called The Romance of a Naxalite written by Vineet Aggarwal a police officer. This is based on his experiences in Gadchirauli in Maharashtra. What caught my eye was his comment that people in that area are so poor that sugar and salt are luxuries for them. They leave their food exposed to ants because they say that after the ants have spent time on the food in large numbers the food tastes sweet from secretions that they leave behind. The theme of food recurred in another unusual piece the same weekend in the story of the lady who has come up with an unusual approach to track down men who do not fulfill child support commitments and vanish by changing their home and city so that they cannot be traced and held to account. She reasoned that these people would be too lazy to cook and too scared to be recognised to go out to eat. She further reasoned that such people would be too irresponsiblt to eat healthy and must therefore be ordering pizzas from home. She is trying to convince pizza chains to allow pasting a sheet with the photographs of such 'scofflaws' on the pizza delivery boxes - presumably so that the delivery boys can identify them and report to the police!
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