An excerpt of an article I am working on which is refelective of the growing frustartion of my people the Dogras and other ethnicities like Kashmiri Pandits, Ladakhis, Sikhs living in Jammu and Kashmir. In a clear absence of a forum where we can be heard I am writing this. We are not invisible and we will not be voiceless........
The Ruler of Jammu and Kashmir, a Dogra signs the Instrument of Accession, Nehru, a Kashmiri Pandit blunders afterwards and yet amongst all…the Dogras (Hindus and Muslims) , the Kashmiri Pandits, Ladakhis( Buddhists), Gujjars(Muslims), Bakerwals (Muslims), Sikhs. Paharis, Poonchis (Muslims and Hindus) it is only one group which asks for Azadi and Autonomy or accession to Pakistan!!! Has anyone questioned why? Has anyone demanded to hear from the other actors of this high strung drama?
We the Dogras have always been voiceless. The Kashmiri Pandits who did manage to get well deserved sympathy after the mass exodus are becoming victims of weak memories and are out-shouted by their brothers who continue to live in the Valley.
I am a generation who has grown up witnessing and hearing about gross injustices playing out in the state. Despite being a larger geographical area and with a greater population the Jammu Region has only 37 seats compared to the 47 from the valley. 70% of the government jobs go to the Kashmiris as opposed to all the other communities from the state. All the money flowing into the state goes to the valley. Kashmiri ad hoc government employees earn more than their Dogra counterparts. The Valley wants the Central University and IIM (Indian Institute of Management) to come up in Srinagar as opposed to Jammu or Ladakh. They created a hue and cry to oppose it coming up in Jammu!!
We have seen systematic ethnic cleansing in the valley. We have witnessed the Kashmiri Pandit exodus from the valley and the massacre of the Sikhs in Chattisinghpora. We are aware of the continued threat to the Hindus, Sikhs and any India supporter. I have heard of my people complaining that we are suffering the mistakes committed by Nehru. We have suffered terribly under the draconian Article 370. I know Ladakhis do not want to be administered by the Kashmiris from the valley. On one hand a Dogra girl will have no right to property in her home state if she marries a non-state subject, even if it is a Dogra from Himachal Pradesh or Punjab. And on the other hand grooms from POK and Pakistan are brought into the state under any pretext. Sometime back there was even a discussion in the Assembly that a non domicile daughter in law should lose her right to property in the state in the eventuality of the demise of her husband. Is this not a gross violation of basic human rights? The Kashmiris from the valley are buying lands and apartments all around me in Jammu but I cannot dare to do the same in the valley. Is this not an extension of subtle but sure ethnic cleansing?
On what grounds is it justified that just one of the many players gets to decide that they want to break away? After the systematic cleansing of the Kashmiri Pandit after torture, killing, rapes and worse how can one expect a fair plebiscite and a just demand for autonomy?
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
A Protest
We the people of Jammu Region ( Doda,Jammu,Kishtwar, Poonch, Rajouri, Reasi, Ramban, Samba, Udhampur) stand united in our protest against the demands of AUTONOMY and any other such secessionist voices.
We reiterate our loyalty to Union of India
We stand up today so that OUR voice can be heard!
We are the sons of this soil and proud Indians!
We will not accept the labelling of our Nationalism as Communalism!
We, Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Buddhists and people of other faiths stand united in our protest against Autonomy and vow our allegiance to the Great Nation of India.
We stand up collectively to oppose any anti-national activity and attempts to create disharmony amongst people of different faiths in the Jammu Division.
We demand FREEDOM from the tyranny of the and secessionist forces and terrorists!
We raise our voices in support of the Kashmiri Pandits...an exiled people!
We want AZADI from violence and terror at the hands of militants which has resulted in the exodus of the Kashmiri Pandits form the valley and noteworthy demographic changes in the Jammu region with Hindus leaving their villages and homes in fear.
WE SAY GO BACK TERRORISTS GO BACK!
WE SAY NO TO AUTONOMY!
WE SAY YES TO INDIA!
We reiterate our loyalty to Union of India
We stand up today so that OUR voice can be heard!
We are the sons of this soil and proud Indians!
We will not accept the labelling of our Nationalism as Communalism!
We, Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Buddhists and people of other faiths stand united in our protest against Autonomy and vow our allegiance to the Great Nation of India.
We stand up collectively to oppose any anti-national activity and attempts to create disharmony amongst people of different faiths in the Jammu Division.
We demand FREEDOM from the tyranny of the and secessionist forces and terrorists!
We raise our voices in support of the Kashmiri Pandits...an exiled people!
We want AZADI from violence and terror at the hands of militants which has resulted in the exodus of the Kashmiri Pandits form the valley and noteworthy demographic changes in the Jammu region with Hindus leaving their villages and homes in fear.
WE SAY GO BACK TERRORISTS GO BACK!
WE SAY NO TO AUTONOMY!
WE SAY YES TO INDIA!
Friday, June 25, 2010
The Lure of the Land – Some stories from Poonch
The connection to the land is natural and unbreakable. We may go away for a multitude of reasons but it is easier to snip off the umbilical cord than cut away the tie which binds us to our villages and towns and cities….to the land of our forefathers. I have known this for a fact and experienced it at close quarters, having lived quite a nomadic life, traveling far and wide. Nothing can beat the pleasure and ‘the heart will burst’ kind of happiness when I come back “home”….to my home state of Jammu and Kashmir.
I saw this emotion amply reflected in the stories I heard this summer during my trip to Poonch. Poonch is also known as Chhota Kashmir and aptly deserves the title, for the regions beauty and splendour are breathtaking. As I traveled by road I repeatedly asked myself as I crossed vales and mountains that how could one ever leave this place and be really happy. The majestic Pir Panchal range in the backdrop, forests, and gurgling streams, crisp fresh air, rugged men and the beautiful women and children…all pulled at my heart strings. I gasped and sighed when I saw the Surankote valley and was left speechless as I entered the town of Poonch.
The history of the region left me intrigued and my fascination with the place increased. Poonch has also been called the battlefield of Kashmir since many rulers who staked a claimon Kashmir had to fight it out in the Poonch valley. There is a book by the same name “Poonch – “The Battlefield of Kashmir” by Mr. Maini a Poonch local which is a must read for all those who want to know more about the history of this region.
I met many people from various backgrounds and the common underlying theme with all of them was a desire to live peacefully and harmoniously. Not one of them was untouched by militancy and the politics of the region. Landmines in the adjoining hills, militant hideouts in the hills of Mendhar, friends and neighbors crossing over to Pakistan, the bloody guerilla warfare, and the infamous ‘Operation Hill Kaka’ to flush out ISI operatives and militants. Obviously the region is considered sensitive and the existing peace fragile.
Considering that it is a land of Saints and Sufis it is a crying shame. This is a land which is abound by similar yet different testaments to the Almighty…Buddhe Amarnath, Nangli Sahib, Shahdara Sharief to name a few. I visited all three and found them equally moving.
Who could leave such a place and yet some did. Some of them at least whose stories I heard have become refugees in their current country of choice, realizing too late that they became victims of propaganda, pressure and trends of their community and a falsely created fear psychosis. The DC/DM of Poonch Shri Kuldip Khajuria told me that there were people who have come back to Poonch on visitor visas and have had to be literally forced to go back after they exhausted their stay limits that too after extending their visas and stay as many times as legally possible.
Many have openly said that they are worse off in Pakistan occupied Poonch economically and socially. This fact was quite clear in my visit to the LOC. One could clearly see ‘kuchha’ houses across the border compared to the modest but pucca houses on our side of the hills. The Principal of Sheesh Mahal School (the oldest girl’s school in Poonch) told me about an ex-student who visited from POK. The ex-student said that they were fed with stories of persecution of Muslims in India by the Pakistani officials. They were told that the Muslim population was denied the right to education and debarred from offering Namaaz and going to the mosque. Upon hearing from the Principal that in a school of 300 plus girls, there were only 35 Hindu girls, the man broke down and cried in the school assembly organized in his honor.
We were saddened to hear that one of my mother’s muslim neighbor and friend moved to Pakistan in the 70’s. He visited Poonch his place of birth many times once it was possible to do so. Common friends told us he regretted his decision all his life and died a heartbroken man.
Some ties bind us all our lives and there is a love which is equal if not greater than the other facets of love and that is a love for our land. A love which blurs the differences in religion and unites us on the common grounds of language, cultural practices, folk lore, dance, music, literature and so much more. It is for the individual to understand this fundamental truth and the politics to let it be.
I saw this emotion amply reflected in the stories I heard this summer during my trip to Poonch. Poonch is also known as Chhota Kashmir and aptly deserves the title, for the regions beauty and splendour are breathtaking. As I traveled by road I repeatedly asked myself as I crossed vales and mountains that how could one ever leave this place and be really happy. The majestic Pir Panchal range in the backdrop, forests, and gurgling streams, crisp fresh air, rugged men and the beautiful women and children…all pulled at my heart strings. I gasped and sighed when I saw the Surankote valley and was left speechless as I entered the town of Poonch.
The history of the region left me intrigued and my fascination with the place increased. Poonch has also been called the battlefield of Kashmir since many rulers who staked a claimon Kashmir had to fight it out in the Poonch valley. There is a book by the same name “Poonch – “The Battlefield of Kashmir” by Mr. Maini a Poonch local which is a must read for all those who want to know more about the history of this region.
I met many people from various backgrounds and the common underlying theme with all of them was a desire to live peacefully and harmoniously. Not one of them was untouched by militancy and the politics of the region. Landmines in the adjoining hills, militant hideouts in the hills of Mendhar, friends and neighbors crossing over to Pakistan, the bloody guerilla warfare, and the infamous ‘Operation Hill Kaka’ to flush out ISI operatives and militants. Obviously the region is considered sensitive and the existing peace fragile.
Considering that it is a land of Saints and Sufis it is a crying shame. This is a land which is abound by similar yet different testaments to the Almighty…Buddhe Amarnath, Nangli Sahib, Shahdara Sharief to name a few. I visited all three and found them equally moving.
Who could leave such a place and yet some did. Some of them at least whose stories I heard have become refugees in their current country of choice, realizing too late that they became victims of propaganda, pressure and trends of their community and a falsely created fear psychosis. The DC/DM of Poonch Shri Kuldip Khajuria told me that there were people who have come back to Poonch on visitor visas and have had to be literally forced to go back after they exhausted their stay limits that too after extending their visas and stay as many times as legally possible.
Many have openly said that they are worse off in Pakistan occupied Poonch economically and socially. This fact was quite clear in my visit to the LOC. One could clearly see ‘kuchha’ houses across the border compared to the modest but pucca houses on our side of the hills. The Principal of Sheesh Mahal School (the oldest girl’s school in Poonch) told me about an ex-student who visited from POK. The ex-student said that they were fed with stories of persecution of Muslims in India by the Pakistani officials. They were told that the Muslim population was denied the right to education and debarred from offering Namaaz and going to the mosque. Upon hearing from the Principal that in a school of 300 plus girls, there were only 35 Hindu girls, the man broke down and cried in the school assembly organized in his honor.
We were saddened to hear that one of my mother’s muslim neighbor and friend moved to Pakistan in the 70’s. He visited Poonch his place of birth many times once it was possible to do so. Common friends told us he regretted his decision all his life and died a heartbroken man.
Some ties bind us all our lives and there is a love which is equal if not greater than the other facets of love and that is a love for our land. A love which blurs the differences in religion and unites us on the common grounds of language, cultural practices, folk lore, dance, music, literature and so much more. It is for the individual to understand this fundamental truth and the politics to let it be.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
You Know You are Homesick When....
You Know You are Homesick When..........
1.The quaint greengrocer fails to charm you and your heart yearns for the sabzi bazaar/mandi ..be it Doranda Market Ranchi, Antaghaat Patna or Narwaal Mandi Jammu.
2. Shammi Kapoor serenading his leading lady in the vale of Kashmir makes you want to run back home. (Home being Jammu and Kashmir for me)
3. You want to hug anyone in a saree
4. All the strawberry and cream could not stand a chance against langda aam, sitaphal and fresh seasonal litchis
5. Hundreds of trees and lovely flowering plants around you and your eyes still dream of Gulmohar, Peepal and Bargad.
6. All of a sudden you develop a taste for watching any of the many Indian soap operas.
7. It’s a yes to Satyajit Ray’s Feluda. Mr. Doyle Sherlock will have to wait for another day.
8. You read aloud books in your mother tongue (Dogri)just to hear the sound of it :(
9. You are not sure whether to laugh or cry when you see good ols pappad being referred to as "Poppadums"
10.You suddenly do not mind your 5 year old and his other Desi friend singing and very loudly at that, in a public bus in London " Seeti baja ke bol Bhaiya All is Well!"
1.The quaint greengrocer fails to charm you and your heart yearns for the sabzi bazaar/mandi ..be it Doranda Market Ranchi, Antaghaat Patna or Narwaal Mandi Jammu.
2. Shammi Kapoor serenading his leading lady in the vale of Kashmir makes you want to run back home. (Home being Jammu and Kashmir for me)
3. You want to hug anyone in a saree
4. All the strawberry and cream could not stand a chance against langda aam, sitaphal and fresh seasonal litchis
5. Hundreds of trees and lovely flowering plants around you and your eyes still dream of Gulmohar, Peepal and Bargad.
6. All of a sudden you develop a taste for watching any of the many Indian soap operas.
7. It’s a yes to Satyajit Ray’s Feluda. Mr. Doyle Sherlock will have to wait for another day.
8. You read aloud books in your mother tongue (Dogri)just to hear the sound of it :(
9. You are not sure whether to laugh or cry when you see good ols pappad being referred to as "Poppadums"
10.You suddenly do not mind your 5 year old and his other Desi friend singing and very loudly at that, in a public bus in London " Seeti baja ke bol Bhaiya All is Well!"
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Differences......Cultural That Is!
Its been quite sometime when I was last here. But I am back having travelled thousands of kilometres, across oceans and continents, across nations and state lines. So many stories to tell...from the banks of Ganges in the erstwhile Patliputra to the LOC (line of Control)in Chakan Da Bagh in Poonch, J&K. I will reminisce it all here, but will start with my present place of residence and the obvious differences I have observed in the last couple of weeks. Needless to say these are my opinions solely and I am one of those annoying people who 'must' have an opinion on everything :)
OBSERVATIONS
TIME PERIOD: FROM DAY 1 TO DAY 15
LOCATION: THE CITY OF LONDON
CONTEXT: A FUN COMPARISON BETWEEN SUBURBAN AMERICA AND A BOROUGH OF LONDON
1. The English are definitely a very, very, good looking race (no offense to the Americans who are definitely much more friendlier). P.S I am yet to see the other European races at close quarters so it can be a very retricted point of view.
2. This is fashion country I say. I am yet to see someone, anyone (exceptions are the FOBs....Fresh off the Boat Asians like me and maybe East Europeans). I am yet to see any woman in sweatshirt and sweatpants, which was the staple dress code for suburban American Mommies. I for one like to dress up BUT only sometimes and all this high end fashion is painful. I had of course been duly warned that London is atleast 1.5 years ahead of NYC in terms of fashion!!! And now I witness the truth behind the statement.
3. I see a lot of Somalians or maybe some are Sudanese. I am yet to get my facts on this right,but they are definitely from somewhere in North Africa and they are beautiful! I love their fancy, pleated burqas and head scarves. These women and children have a lovely warm, brown color, and striking features. They are tall and statesque. Exotic I say.
4. I was so happy to know that schools had uniforms here till I saw young teenage and pre pubescent school girls in skirts so short it gave me a headache. I am flabbergasted at how they manage to do anything in those skirts, least of all study at school, without risking exposing themselves. To my mind it feeds to a certain stereotype and that is surely troubling. I also concede that I am old school and feel that such blatant display of skin is totally unnecessary and conflicting to the task at hand, which is by the way, getting an education. Maybe that is where lies the cultural difference. Maybe it does nothing to the English man to see such semi nakedness and it also does not lead to a pre-mature and inappropriate sense of sexuality for the young children. Yet again maybe its just the woman, the mother and the small town Indian girl in me speaking. Take your pick.
5. Religion does play a big part here. It is definitely not a secular nation in the sense it celebrates religion and at least on paper encourages religious practice be it of any faith. Admittedly this could be a severly limited perspective and it comes from reading the School Admissons Lietrature. The Catholic and Church of England Schools have listed being religiously active(in any faith) as one of the criterias of preference for admisson. Religious studies too seems to be part of school curriculum.
6. Surprisingly the English society insists on knowing wether you are married divorced, living with a partner etc. Is it a Mrs. or Miss or Ms. is an importnat piece of information here, unlike US where it is a non intrusive Ms. or Mr....Period. I have chanced upon the source of our famous 'Sarkari'work culture. Things get done way much slower. From landline and broadband connection to name being added on the credit card it is a long drawn process. If something closes at 5 and one calls at 4:30, you are told its too late and should come tomorrow. The Amricans will do business anytime of the day as opposed to this. Money makes that nation run and to be honest their work culture rocks.
7.Undoubtedly the accent is cool. Though I proudly intend to retain my Indian accent despite insistence of doing otherwise.I am secretly annoyed at people who acquire a foriegn accent within days of being in a new country or even after a trip to the International Airport. If Penelope Cruz and Salma Hayek can sound doubly sexy thanks to their thick accents why do we become any less because of ours?
8. The weather. Its all about the weather my friend. It is cold and grey and mostly overcaste and rarely sunny. I am being reassured that it gets hot in July and August. But on the other hand I have also been forewarned that there are only 28 days of sunshine in a year in this small island country. Now I know why the English are obsessed with the weather. I know the secret behind the famously pale English complexion. The probable reason behind the certain coldness and stilted emotions famously known as the stiff upper lip. This weather can make the most warm blooded Mediterranean a wee bit frozen. Again this could be hot blooded Indian in me talking who needs the rays to burn me through and through ..ocassionally at least.
9. Coming to food. It is way much better than the genetically modified and unnaturally huge and shiny vegetables found in the US. One had to pay more to get what nature intended man to eat...pay more for Organic which is naturally nay man's right. Anyways the veggies found here look natural and start wilting away withing a few days as they should, unlike thier American counterparts which refuse to even after days and days which makes you wonder what have they been injected with. The ice creams taste better. The yogurt is better. And don't get me started about the breads. They are something I could talk about for a long time.
10. All my extremely aware and conscious friends from LSR and my activist friends from TISS would be delighted to know that this is a society way more greener than the one I was living in before. They not only encourage but are actually practicing a greener lifestyle. Less wastage all around. Way Thumbs up for this.
And yes compared to the big old US of A everything seems smaller. The houses, the stores, the cars ,the roads and even the size of a milk can. It is as if the States were the Land of Gulliver and UK the Land of the Lilliputs.
Disclaimer: This in no way reflects adversely on any society, American, British or Indian. This post stems from a lonely, homesick mind and heart coming to grips with new surroundings, shaking off the hold of the previous one, and preparing for assimilation into a new way of life.
OBSERVATIONS
TIME PERIOD: FROM DAY 1 TO DAY 15
LOCATION: THE CITY OF LONDON
CONTEXT: A FUN COMPARISON BETWEEN SUBURBAN AMERICA AND A BOROUGH OF LONDON
1. The English are definitely a very, very, good looking race (no offense to the Americans who are definitely much more friendlier). P.S I am yet to see the other European races at close quarters so it can be a very retricted point of view.
2. This is fashion country I say. I am yet to see someone, anyone (exceptions are the FOBs....Fresh off the Boat Asians like me and maybe East Europeans). I am yet to see any woman in sweatshirt and sweatpants, which was the staple dress code for suburban American Mommies. I for one like to dress up BUT only sometimes and all this high end fashion is painful. I had of course been duly warned that London is atleast 1.5 years ahead of NYC in terms of fashion!!! And now I witness the truth behind the statement.
3. I see a lot of Somalians or maybe some are Sudanese. I am yet to get my facts on this right,but they are definitely from somewhere in North Africa and they are beautiful! I love their fancy, pleated burqas and head scarves. These women and children have a lovely warm, brown color, and striking features. They are tall and statesque. Exotic I say.
4. I was so happy to know that schools had uniforms here till I saw young teenage and pre pubescent school girls in skirts so short it gave me a headache. I am flabbergasted at how they manage to do anything in those skirts, least of all study at school, without risking exposing themselves. To my mind it feeds to a certain stereotype and that is surely troubling. I also concede that I am old school and feel that such blatant display of skin is totally unnecessary and conflicting to the task at hand, which is by the way, getting an education. Maybe that is where lies the cultural difference. Maybe it does nothing to the English man to see such semi nakedness and it also does not lead to a pre-mature and inappropriate sense of sexuality for the young children. Yet again maybe its just the woman, the mother and the small town Indian girl in me speaking. Take your pick.
5. Religion does play a big part here. It is definitely not a secular nation in the sense it celebrates religion and at least on paper encourages religious practice be it of any faith. Admittedly this could be a severly limited perspective and it comes from reading the School Admissons Lietrature. The Catholic and Church of England Schools have listed being religiously active(in any faith) as one of the criterias of preference for admisson. Religious studies too seems to be part of school curriculum.
6. Surprisingly the English society insists on knowing wether you are married divorced, living with a partner etc. Is it a Mrs. or Miss or Ms. is an importnat piece of information here, unlike US where it is a non intrusive Ms. or Mr....Period. I have chanced upon the source of our famous 'Sarkari'work culture. Things get done way much slower. From landline and broadband connection to name being added on the credit card it is a long drawn process. If something closes at 5 and one calls at 4:30, you are told its too late and should come tomorrow. The Amricans will do business anytime of the day as opposed to this. Money makes that nation run and to be honest their work culture rocks.
7.Undoubtedly the accent is cool. Though I proudly intend to retain my Indian accent despite insistence of doing otherwise.I am secretly annoyed at people who acquire a foriegn accent within days of being in a new country or even after a trip to the International Airport. If Penelope Cruz and Salma Hayek can sound doubly sexy thanks to their thick accents why do we become any less because of ours?
8. The weather. Its all about the weather my friend. It is cold and grey and mostly overcaste and rarely sunny. I am being reassured that it gets hot in July and August. But on the other hand I have also been forewarned that there are only 28 days of sunshine in a year in this small island country. Now I know why the English are obsessed with the weather. I know the secret behind the famously pale English complexion. The probable reason behind the certain coldness and stilted emotions famously known as the stiff upper lip. This weather can make the most warm blooded Mediterranean a wee bit frozen. Again this could be hot blooded Indian in me talking who needs the rays to burn me through and through ..ocassionally at least.
9. Coming to food. It is way much better than the genetically modified and unnaturally huge and shiny vegetables found in the US. One had to pay more to get what nature intended man to eat...pay more for Organic which is naturally nay man's right. Anyways the veggies found here look natural and start wilting away withing a few days as they should, unlike thier American counterparts which refuse to even after days and days which makes you wonder what have they been injected with. The ice creams taste better. The yogurt is better. And don't get me started about the breads. They are something I could talk about for a long time.
10. All my extremely aware and conscious friends from LSR and my activist friends from TISS would be delighted to know that this is a society way more greener than the one I was living in before. They not only encourage but are actually practicing a greener lifestyle. Less wastage all around. Way Thumbs up for this.
And yes compared to the big old US of A everything seems smaller. The houses, the stores, the cars ,the roads and even the size of a milk can. It is as if the States were the Land of Gulliver and UK the Land of the Lilliputs.
Disclaimer: This in no way reflects adversely on any society, American, British or Indian. This post stems from a lonely, homesick mind and heart coming to grips with new surroundings, shaking off the hold of the previous one, and preparing for assimilation into a new way of life.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Soon No More a Jersey Girl
Well a week more to go and then I will give up my claim on being a Jersey girl. I am sad and happy at the same time. I am filled with positivity and hope for a future which asks more of me in every which way. With my babies almost ready to go to school and full time at that, I am gearing up to do more and give back more to the community. I am excited about starting work on my dream....social entrepreneurship. Cannot wait to see my family though heartbroken to leave my 'new'family here.
A lot is going on around me and so many issues and stories I have been dying to write about but have been unable to for obvious reasons. I cannot believe that even after a year I am talking and thinking, if the likes of Uddhav Thackeray can get more harmful for the fabric of a nation. I fail to fathom how deep seated problems get solved by banning sports persons and artists form the neighboring country. The problems stem from a different place, which has little to do with the common man and things associated with him.
I could not be more in love with Aamir Khan after Rang De Basanti, Taare Zameen Par and now 3 Idiots. I hope he has sparked many a mind with his revolutionary films and initiated a process of change. I recently viewed a clip on the work being done by Kiran Bir Sethi, at Riverside School, Ahmedabad and prayed for more of her likes. I am motivated and encouraged to imitate her vision and her commitment. I echo her thoughts the "Let Change Be Contagious"!!!!
http://www.ted.com/talks/kiran_bir_sethi_teaches_kids_to_take_charge.html
I have also dealt with something I call 'Clipped Wings'...children born with special needs. After visiting NICUs (Neo-natal Intensive Care Units) in 2 different hospitals and seeing a set of parents, who are also my dear friends live a nightmare, I cannot pray harder for those who are born with clipped wings and even those who refuse to be grateful that they CAN take flight.
I leave next Saturday and just wanted to say to all my dear blogosphere friends, that I will not be long gone. I have so much to share and am looking forward to your feedback.
I pray it will not just be a journey this time but a Rite of Passage....a more evolved me is getting a chance to put theory into practice. Wish me Luck!!
A lot is going on around me and so many issues and stories I have been dying to write about but have been unable to for obvious reasons. I cannot believe that even after a year I am talking and thinking, if the likes of Uddhav Thackeray can get more harmful for the fabric of a nation. I fail to fathom how deep seated problems get solved by banning sports persons and artists form the neighboring country. The problems stem from a different place, which has little to do with the common man and things associated with him.
I could not be more in love with Aamir Khan after Rang De Basanti, Taare Zameen Par and now 3 Idiots. I hope he has sparked many a mind with his revolutionary films and initiated a process of change. I recently viewed a clip on the work being done by Kiran Bir Sethi, at Riverside School, Ahmedabad and prayed for more of her likes. I am motivated and encouraged to imitate her vision and her commitment. I echo her thoughts the "Let Change Be Contagious"!!!!
http://www.ted.com/talks/kiran_bir_sethi_teaches_kids_to_take_charge.html
I have also dealt with something I call 'Clipped Wings'...children born with special needs. After visiting NICUs (Neo-natal Intensive Care Units) in 2 different hospitals and seeing a set of parents, who are also my dear friends live a nightmare, I cannot pray harder for those who are born with clipped wings and even those who refuse to be grateful that they CAN take flight.
I leave next Saturday and just wanted to say to all my dear blogosphere friends, that I will not be long gone. I have so much to share and am looking forward to your feedback.
I pray it will not just be a journey this time but a Rite of Passage....a more evolved me is getting a chance to put theory into practice. Wish me Luck!!
Monday, December 21, 2009
To Dig Roots or To Take Flight
I resume writing after almost a month and half. Have been busy with the 'idea' of moving continents and all things related. We are finishing the do-able, must-sees ...all very touristy I must say. That is the easy and the fun part. The not so fun part is emotionally and mentally preparing ourselves to say good-bye to a place we called home for the last seven years. It becomes even more difficult because I came here a girl and am leaving a woman. I became a housewife, a mother here. I also re-discovered my faith and evolved some more and faster.
We prepare ourselves to cut off those ties that bind us to this place, to go back to the ties that tug at us. I prepare myself to say adieu to all those whom I reluctantly be-friended and more reluctantly leave behind. The smells, the sounds (or rather the lack of it as it is in typical suburban America versus India), the food will be missed. I will miss the old Indian gentleman whom I would chat with in the laundry who would pine for his village and his friends. I will miss the African American woman who smoked like a chimney and whom we lovingly and secretly called 'Chimney'. How similar and yet how different we were. I will never forget the way she stuck up to us after an argument with a particularly racist white man for some petty reason. She told me "Do not take that nonsense" and told me stories of her childhood in rural Mississippi.
I will miss all those who stood by and even those who did not because they all taught me a lesson or two. I thank the technological advancements for once, knowing it will allow me to stay in touch more easily than ever before.
But yet as I prepared myself to fly back home, I was jolted by the news that I might be going somewhere else. Hubby dearest might have to go to UK for a couple of years. I still am not sure if that will happen and will not be till I am actually there. But the surprise did lead to a lot of sighing and thinking and feeling blue. I am a tad bit tired of living as if I might have to move in the next 2 months. I have lived without fancy curtain or cookware and cutlery. I have learnt to be happy and have at times gotten my way and hung up elaborate Madhubani paitings not caring if I lived here for a day or a year. I have sometimes given in to the practical problems of baggage and shipping etc. And sometimes thrown all caution to the wind. I do have some regrets and mostly that I would have be-friended some people earlier than I did for they are such wonderful people and I would have loved to know them longer.
But yet another move, to yet another country. I gave up on my professional aspirations the minute I became a mom and I have never regretted it. But the resolve to follow my husband around and be a family sometimes has had me floundering. I just saw Julie and Julia and loved it. I loved the story, Merryl Streep and Amy Adams. I could relate to their stories (not the cooking necessarily) and loved their married life. Great husbands, great families with lots of love to go around. I could also echo the question Merryl asks in the movie "Where is home?" and am trying to understand the answer her husband gives "Wherever we are"
One thing that I learnt from the movie was that a lack of a sense of purpose and a sense of joy could arise with or without the kind of nomadic lifestyle I live. It could arise with or without the lack of a rewarding career. As long as we were togther and happy and in love with ourselves, each other , life and God we could figure it out.
The power to make a situation sunny and positive lay within me. The movie taught me that. My husband says it more often than I would like to hear. My scriptures say it. I am a part of the supreme whole and hence I am whole...complete and powerful.
So why be in doldrums at all. My sense of purpose is for me to define. Why challenge the master plan. Maybe I was born to roam.
Travel, absorb, learn, integrate, assimilate........there is so much to be seen and there is so much to be learnt. I am eager to return to my land, my people and most importantly give back. And I pray that I will do that soon. In the meantime I will give back to my family, and communities wherever I am. Period.
Hence pine I will no more. Or at least try very hard not to. Digging roots at the moment is very attractive and safe but I shall not tremble at the idea of taking flight and soaring to new heights. God grant me the courage and show me the way.
We prepare ourselves to cut off those ties that bind us to this place, to go back to the ties that tug at us. I prepare myself to say adieu to all those whom I reluctantly be-friended and more reluctantly leave behind. The smells, the sounds (or rather the lack of it as it is in typical suburban America versus India), the food will be missed. I will miss the old Indian gentleman whom I would chat with in the laundry who would pine for his village and his friends. I will miss the African American woman who smoked like a chimney and whom we lovingly and secretly called 'Chimney'. How similar and yet how different we were. I will never forget the way she stuck up to us after an argument with a particularly racist white man for some petty reason. She told me "Do not take that nonsense" and told me stories of her childhood in rural Mississippi.
I will miss all those who stood by and even those who did not because they all taught me a lesson or two. I thank the technological advancements for once, knowing it will allow me to stay in touch more easily than ever before.
But yet as I prepared myself to fly back home, I was jolted by the news that I might be going somewhere else. Hubby dearest might have to go to UK for a couple of years. I still am not sure if that will happen and will not be till I am actually there. But the surprise did lead to a lot of sighing and thinking and feeling blue. I am a tad bit tired of living as if I might have to move in the next 2 months. I have lived without fancy curtain or cookware and cutlery. I have learnt to be happy and have at times gotten my way and hung up elaborate Madhubani paitings not caring if I lived here for a day or a year. I have sometimes given in to the practical problems of baggage and shipping etc. And sometimes thrown all caution to the wind. I do have some regrets and mostly that I would have be-friended some people earlier than I did for they are such wonderful people and I would have loved to know them longer.
But yet another move, to yet another country. I gave up on my professional aspirations the minute I became a mom and I have never regretted it. But the resolve to follow my husband around and be a family sometimes has had me floundering. I just saw Julie and Julia and loved it. I loved the story, Merryl Streep and Amy Adams. I could relate to their stories (not the cooking necessarily) and loved their married life. Great husbands, great families with lots of love to go around. I could also echo the question Merryl asks in the movie "Where is home?" and am trying to understand the answer her husband gives "Wherever we are"
One thing that I learnt from the movie was that a lack of a sense of purpose and a sense of joy could arise with or without the kind of nomadic lifestyle I live. It could arise with or without the lack of a rewarding career. As long as we were togther and happy and in love with ourselves, each other , life and God we could figure it out.
The power to make a situation sunny and positive lay within me. The movie taught me that. My husband says it more often than I would like to hear. My scriptures say it. I am a part of the supreme whole and hence I am whole...complete and powerful.
So why be in doldrums at all. My sense of purpose is for me to define. Why challenge the master plan. Maybe I was born to roam.
Travel, absorb, learn, integrate, assimilate........there is so much to be seen and there is so much to be learnt. I am eager to return to my land, my people and most importantly give back. And I pray that I will do that soon. In the meantime I will give back to my family, and communities wherever I am. Period.
Hence pine I will no more. Or at least try very hard not to. Digging roots at the moment is very attractive and safe but I shall not tremble at the idea of taking flight and soaring to new heights. God grant me the courage and show me the way.
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