You know you have arrived in the US of A when....

I guess this post would make more sense to NRIs in the US. I have lived there for 5 years so I know.. :D

You know you’ve “arrived” in the United States of America when:

You hear a faint American accent (already?) while thanking the Visa interviewer at the Chennai Consulate for your visa. 

You ask the stewardess for extra I-94 forms because each time you make stupid mistakes while filling it but only because you are so nervous that you will say something wrong at immigration that will make you sound like a terrorist and then they will have to deport you and all your friends will laugh at you.

You gladly fill out immigration forms for complete strangers (after you have correctly filled in yours on the 4^th attempt). ‘Uncle-Aunty’ look like they just walked out of a coffee table magazine complete with turban and ‘Anarkali’ outfit and ask you in a language you don’t understand, to please fill in their I-94. But you get the idea when they plop the form, their passport and a big toothy smile onto your face. Expect them to roll their eyes if you don't have the pen though. 

You’re sent for luggage screening at Immigration because your suitcase is filled with mummy’s delicacies- Ladoos that look like hand grenades and dry meat that’s prohibited. Never mind that you lied when you answered No to “Are you carrying food items?”

All you do is multiplication. From American Dollars to Indian Rupees.  From the moment your plane lands and until you realize it’s pointless. You are always up to date on the current exchange rate up to three decimal points and you feel the pain when you pay $3 for something that actually costs Rs.30! 

You stress out about the 15% tip. 15%!!! Now not only do you have to convert your bill amount into Rupees, you have to calculate your 15% tip on your bill amount and then convert the tip amount into Rupees. *Sigh*

You meet your first Amway soul-mate. Walking down Walmart’s home section, wide eyed, and eager, mentally designing and decorating your one bedroom apartment, you see a desi person making eye contact. You are so thrilled; you have to stop yourself from hugging him. But then he hugs you (almost), talks and talks and introduces you to all his family members and then welcomes you to his house, which turns out to be the direct marketing company’s headquarters. Make money while you drink this cola. Make money while you brush your teeth. And then make more money when you stalk more desi people.

Your smoke alarm goes off while deep frying those samosas and the firefighters are on location in less than 10 minutes! Nothing to worry, you will soon learn how to remove the batteries, open the windows or cover the smoke alarm with aluminum foil. Never say never!

You start minding your manners. Who knew you had it in you to open doors for strangers and to say Thank you to someone who holds the elevator open for you. No, we never had to do that in India.

You start cutting off over friendly desi strangers at the mall because you have been a victim of too-many ‘Amway-like’ propositions.

You say hello to perfect strangers. You’re cool like that. A quick nod and then continue walking. Unlike the first time when you stopped in your tracks and asked the person who greeted you, “I’m OK but who are you?”. But Shhh! No one has to know that. 

You have a dedicated corner of your apartment to house the holy curry leaf plant. Yes, not the tulsi/holy basil, but the curry patha/vepala. And when it grows as big as a tree, you bless another new desi family with a potted one.

You (ab)use the return policy that retail stores offer. The first couple times you turn red in the face but it only gets easier. Yes, this is what they call retail therapy. Buy, swipe, feel like a Goddess, faint when the bill comes, then return half the stuff. Phew! But only within 90 days.  

You learn to say raowte for route, skhedule for schedule, intersection for junction, street for road, apartment for flat and tuh-mae-to for tomato. Ofcourse there is sem-I and ant-I instead of (semy and anty)

You become a coupon cutter. Even for 25 cents. But why not? 

You realize that another man’s trash is your treasure. Nothing can give you a high like garage sales and used stuff ("like brand new") on ebay. 

If you know of any others, feel free to add them in the comments! BTW,I still say raowte for route.

The Fatwa Girl -Akbar Agha

So I finished reading it! And within the due date! *smiles in pride* But not so much because it was a page turner. More than that I was determined to finish it without having to pay the late fees.

The book is overall a good read. The language is simple and easy to follow and apart from the many (sometimes distracting) history lessons the author keeps you engrossed. Only to find out why Amina did it? Why she blew herself into bits.

Omar and Amina are neighbours. He is smart, a debater, a singer, a Civil services aspirant and a Sunni.

Amina is strong willed, bold, eternally idealistic and optimistic,witty and a passionate about bate bazi and a Shia. (I love the poems and snippets that are scattered across the book)

Its only likely they will fall in love. A love that innocently happens but one they maturely suppress. They know they have no future together yet they share a soul-mate kind of relationship.

The Fatwa Girl is a nick name that catches on as Amina fervently tries to make a petition to the imams to issue a fatwa against suicide bombings- an act she and her friends and possibly almost every sane person in this world finds despicable. Then why did she do it? She let the bomb go off on her petite little person....

The story kicks off at Amina's backyard where she is daringly trying to learn how to ride a bike, something that is not permitted to girls in their culture. Its Muharram, a day when Shias and Sunnis are not entirely cordial with each other. Omar jumps in (possibly risking his life) to teach her how to do it and succeeds. Things move fast with Amina introducing Omar to a band where Omar becomes the lead singer. Her debating tips helps him win all his future debates. Together with their friends they travel with the band and they believe they can wash away the terror and turmoil in their country through music- one soul at a time.

Then the inevitable happens. Amina gets married to a man her parents choose, breaking Omar's heart. Rafi, the new man is charismatic, enigmatic and the ideal husband. Omar tries to meet Amina for the last time in a park and almost gets beaten up by her brother. But this also allows for a chance meeting between Omar and Gulbadan, a very beautiful 'dancing girl'. Do they fall in love?

Sometimes I feel Omar is too lucky, you know like the Bollywood heroes who never die or even if they have to, only because its a love triangle and they have no purpose to live now that the woman has been taken, and only after at least a 100 shots are fired into them. He gets away with everything.

Things happen in Amina's married life that changes her. And eventually we learn what ticked her off. Why she used the method she so much abhorred to bring an end to things.

With all the history discussion and views and opinions, I felt the author was searching for answers. Trying to explain and argue and convince himself and us to think. To not judge too soon. To understand the history of things. That all things have an origin. And 'borders' are essentially integrated into our culture and our surroundings from over the years. And its hard to break out from something we have all been conditioned into thinking.  

I picked up this book because I love exploring other cultures. Or cultures that the world pre-judges. I crave to know how a person lives, dreams and hopes under such extreme conditions. She is wearing a veil and he has a solemn expression but would they laugh out loud at a joke from the Reader's Digest. Do they fall in love? Would they fight for the remote control? Just anything that will let me know that they are as human as I am. Or I as them.

PS: I just realised I forgot to return the book. I have to pay the late fees! Oh oh!

How to be a terrible neighbour....

• Pump up the volume- No better time to put that expensive home theatre system to use. Choose head- banging heavy metal music and turn the volume knob to ‘MAX’.  Wear ear plugs for your own safety and ignore the ringing doorbell and telephone. It’s only going to be those pesky complaining neighbours. 
  

• Beg, borrow, steal. Not just eggs and sugar. But newspapers, clothes, toys, potted plants, jewelry, expensive gadgets and curios. Don’t ask; just announce that you’re taking it. Never return anything. If you plan on returning it, make sure its damaged.

• Who let the dogs out? Buy (or borrow) that big dog, especially if it’s against the apartment building’s rules. Take him through the elevator and make sure you forget to give him a bath for a long, long time. Delay meals so he stays whiny and potty walks, just so that accidents happen in the corridors. Oops!  

• I.G.N.O.R.E. Nose up-turned, ignore everyone who smiles or greets you and talk loudly into your cell phone.

• What’s that smell? Retain your kitchen waste for a few extra days until its fermented enough. Ensure that you position your waste-bin precisely in front of the next door neigbour’s apartment. If that is not enough you could drop some trash from the balcony.

• Double Park: Always leave your car in your neghbour's parking spot before going out of town. It would be better if could park in the middle of two spots. 

• Make some pocket money: Become an insurance agent and start hounding your ‘friends’ to sign up for policies. Nag. Nag. Nag. Haven't you heard of 'Ask and Ye shall receive'?

• Ding Dong! Make unannounced house visits. At meal time, at nap time or at 10PM and then stay on till midnight or later. Ask for refreshments and clumsily spill some. Break something- maybe a glass or maybe that antique urn containing the ashes of a loved one.

• Spread the word: While making above mentioned house call, walk into every room and ask a lot of personal questions. Clarify all doubts and collect information. Juicier; the better (everyone has a story) and then post it on your Facebook wall. Don’t forget to tag them while you are at it.

Do you have any more ideas on how to be an even more terrible neighbour?

This post was inspired from the How to column in The Hindu Metroplus. I wish I knew how to send it to them so they could publish it..*sigh*

Did it matter?

Two girls. Same class. Same marks for the 10th board exam- 65%.

Girl 1- Her mom gives her a congratulatory card that says- "You did it!"

Girl 2- Her mom gives her the cold shoulder for an entire week.

I was pretty confused when both of them, many years ago, described their experiences to me on separate occasions. I remember Girl 1, very happy, eyes twinkling. That 65% was not such a great set of marks did not seem to bother her. She had done her parents proud. She was content.

And Girl 2, I remember her narrating her experience with some amount of sadness and shame. She had let her mom down and she had to work hard for the next exam. She was sad. I felt sad for her.

How the same 65 % could get reactions that were poles apart, was beyond me and my teenage mind.

Maybe Girl 1's parents had figured out what her aptitude was in and they did not think that 10th grade marks decided what she would become in life? Maybe they were cool like that?

Maybe Girl 2's parents just wanted her to do really well so that she could have more options when she finally had to make a career choice?

Of course, then , at 16, I wanted to be either Girl 1 or like her mom when I grew up. Not unlucky Girl 2 or like her cruel mother.

But you know what? Today the ending is a happy one. Both of them have done well in their careers. They chose Literature. Went to some of the best colleges. Girl 1 now writes for a leading newspaper and Girl 2 has a job that had her rubbing shoulders (almost) with some Bollywood celebrities.

So in the end, did the parent's reactions really matter?

Thanksgiving memories

This morning turned out to be a rush. I had everything planned out so we could all leave home on time- My husband to work, my baby to his preschool and me for some pampering at the salon. Until, my husband, at breakfast, suddenly reminded me that it was Thanksgiving night in the US. I know it’s not anywhere high on the ‘Richter’ scale to make a difference to anyone here in India... but it’s pretty high on the 'emotional' scale for us. We spent a good 5 Thanksgivings there and have some very treasured memories.

Come October and people there are so excited because it’s Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas one after another. So as soon as September ends, you see folks beginning to decorate their homes, offices, shops, their yards and sometimes even their cars. And in the most creative, tasteful and funny ways possible. Taking a ride down to the local Walgreens in our neighbourhood itself was such a visual treat and a two minute drive stretches to 15 because you are stopping by to admire each house. 

We spent every Thanksgiving weekend with my mother-in-law's cousin who has been in the US for many years now. And she is one of those aunties we all have in our families. The one that is bursting with love and warmth. Always welcoming, always hospitable and always big-hearted. I don't know how she does it. But she cooks everything the holiday requires you to and all by herself and adds an Indian twist to it to suit the family's palate. Once it was Turkey, once it was one quail for each and once it was couple whole Tandoori Chickens. All we need to do is help set the table and gobble the absolutely delicious spread. We never felt homesick on the holidays and it was only because of her and her family. (Check out these pics!!)

The day after Thanksgiving Thursday is called Black Friday. For those who don't know what that it is: It is one of the biggest discount sales in all the retail stores- physical and virtual and people go CRAZY. The discounts are so high that I know of people who buy electronic items on this day, and then sell it for the full price while on vacation back in India making a huge profit. Yes, that is how enterprising we Indians are! So after giving thanks and stuffing yourself with turkey you form long lines braving the cold weather in front of your favourite store with cups of hot Starbucks coffee, sandwiches, tents and the works. There is always at least one incident of a stampede somewhere. I am not a shopaholic nor am I cut out for discount diving that might involve a stampede, so we usually prefer to relax, lean back and shop online. This is even better because the sale extends through the weekend and you can stay warm indoors. But you better update your antivirus software and be careful or else you could be a victim of Identity theft Monday!  

Memories came flooding in and we decided we had to call Aunty right now. They had just finished their dinner and we chatted with everyone there remembering the good times we celebrated together. Once we said good byes we realised we were running terribly late and that we had spent 30 minutes on an international call!   

So our morning was a rush. On one hand, we were in a frantic rush to get to our planned destinations for the day. And on the other, a sweet rush of wonderful memories made us slow down and think of loved ones that mattered. We all got to where we had to, Maybe a few minutes late. But that did not matter anymore.

Itching for a good read...

I did it. I dared to get two books from the library today. I have been yearning for it. To hold a book  in my hand and go away for a bit. Some where far away...

One is The Fatwa Girl by Akbar Agha. Happened to be on the shelf labeled 'Best Sellers'. So it better be good. 

The other is Brain Games for Toddlers and Twos by Jackie Silberg (whoever that is). Don't laugh. I could not resist. Unless you have one of your own, you have no clue how much entertaining  a two year old needs. I flipped through it. Seems quite interesting.

Honestly I have no clue how I will find the time to finish these books by the due date. But I am planning to sneak in some reading when I can. Like maybe for 10 minutes when I am done typing this. 

"How do you kill time?" 

I absolutely hate it when people ask me that. I NEVER kill time. I have no time to kill. I manage time. I will mercilessly grab any little extra time that I can get my hands on. 

Just because I am a stay-at-home mom, right now, does not mean I am jobless. Like every other mother and wife, I do a very delicate and dangerous juggling act. We run the house. We're facilitators. Because of us, everyone else gets to where they need to be, well-fed and on-time. We're on call 24 X 7. We women, we don't need to train for it. We're phenomenal that way. 

My quiet time is when my son naps in the afternoon for an hour and I am done with the high priority chores. Or past midnight, like now, when my boys are in bed. This is when I brave the relentless mosquitoes (itch, itch), munch on a midnight snack and catch up on some of the things that I love to do. That I have been dreaming of all day. 

To all you busy moms, hope you get to do at least one of your favourite things everyday...

PS: I am still figuring out how to choose images that are allowed for reuse. I think this one is OK. But I cannot seem to find out whose it is so I am not able to give it credit.

Miracles do happen

Two extra hours a day? Yes, miracles do happen!

 

Picture by aachpach                                          

My extra two hours would spill all over my day. Stretching my happy moments and shrinking my not so happy ones.

Maybe...

- Some extra time to sleep in, in the mornings. Cuddle next to your loved ones in bed. Hold the warmth. Before you change into my Super Mom avatar and make the day happen.

- Some extra time to sip hot chai and read the taaza khabar(s).  To keep you updated. To have a world view.

- Some extra time in the hot shower. To freshen you up and get you smelling like a flower for the rest of the day.

- Some extra time in that seemingly difficult Yoga  pose. To remind you how strong you really are. In body and in mind.

- Some extra time in the morning kitchen. So that you can whip up that lavish breakfast for the family that you love.

- Some extra time at the spa. To treat your feet to some much needed massage. Those feet that carry you around; all the time.

- Some more extra time at the spa. So you can catch up on all that filmy gossip in their glossy magazines. How therapeutic!

- Some extra time to read that suspense thriller. That page turner that you can not and do not want to put down. Will he escape? Will they live happily ever after??

- Some extra time to finish that embroidery stitch kit. Your daughter loves teddies and this one has four! You've already picked out the frame and got the nail up on to the wall in her room.

- Some extra time in the park. Screaming happy kids. Picture perfect. Click!

- Some extra time to speak to Mummy and Papa. From once a week to more often. To hear their voices and share some laughs. Nobody is getting any younger you know.

- Some extra time at the cinema interval session. You need to stretch, buy pop-corn and make bathroom trips! 

- Some extra time in prayer.You could do plenty with some more serenity, courage and wisdom.

- Some extra time to play. At home. Scrabble, Pictionary and peek-a boo.

- Some extra time to  read. To the kids. One reading of 'Jack and the Beanstalk' is never enough is it?

- Some extra time to catch up with friends. On the phone. Face to face. Email. Voices that makes you happy. Cherishing memories and making new plans.

- Some extra time to blog. To write. To read. To feel. To laugh. To respond. To commune with fellow bloggers.

- Some extra time at the mall. You always meet many wrong pairs of jeans before the one Mr. Right finds you. Skinny, low cut, boot cut, straight or relaxed.

- Some extra time for a nice head massage. The one your husband always begs for.

- Some extra time during the cricket match commercials. So you can have garama garam pakodas to munch on during the last over.

- Some extra time for chores. To make that never- ending To-Do list at least a little bit shorter.

- Some extra time at family dinner. Wholesome. Hearty. Happy.

- Some extra time for the good night kisses to linger. Touch is such a beautiful thing.

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