A little kingdom I possess,
Where thoughts and feelings dwell;
And very hard the task I find
Of governing it well.
~ Louisa May Alcott

...that more or less describes my situation!

 

Where have I been? "here only"!

Nothing much happening to speak about, except that last month I went on my first ever visit to the north of the country. Delhi, to be precise. I had been hearing a lot of tidbits about Delhi from my very close colleague (more of a friend...actually, more of a mother figure; she is an original Delhiite), and was waiting to explore the city in all its chandni-chowkiish glory! I was pleasantly surprised by the city, considering my expectations were pretty low what with being a proud Mumbaiite who thinks all other metros are a little less equal.

The weather was magnificent. I realize there is something called the weather that changes with the time of year only when I land up in a different city. For the most part, I think of the weather as either hot or rainy or both.

Next, I loved the opportunities to shop till you drop and all the gorgeous traditional work on display (especially in Delhi Haat). The bazaars themselves seem to be far more organized, as if a lot more care had gone into their making. A body could actually walk around in a bazaar without being in danger of getting run over. The street side shopping in Mumbai is literally a street side affair. You have a road where vehicles pass as they usually or unusually do in Mumbai, and on the sides you have the shops. Contrarily, here you had a vast area called a market where vehicles couldn’t even enter. The markets themselves were huge, going on and on with no particular end in sight, just like a woman’s shopping appetite.

Then there was the famous "chaat". I had heard and seen (on TV) so much about Delhi’s chaat, that come lunch time, I was all for having some "chaat". "Dahi Bhalla" seemed like an interesting choice to me and that’s what I had. Yummy, yes. The bhalla was nothing other than what we call "wada" here and down south in my native Mangalore they call it "ambade". What concoctions went into making this Dahi Bhalla, I don’t know, but it was tasty, though probably not something I would die for. Some time later I tried a different variety of Bhalla but it tasted pretty much the same. Maybe I didn’t go to the proper joints for this stuff, but there was just so much time and so much to do.

What I really, really enjoyed was the cycle rickshaw ride! In the mildly chilly weather, sitting atop the rickshaw, gazing at the lights and sounds of the Lajpat Nagar market close by, chugging along the street full of animated faces below and a smiling moon above, it was an experience I can't say I have often in Mumbai...

With Christmas in the offing, and for a change, the weather in Mumbai getting pleasanter and pleasanter, I am filled with an impending sense of joy (I know, usually one says impending sense of gloom!). I guess it's something to do with this time, this season, this whole atmosphere of waiting for the big day or "advent" as they call it, the technical term for preparing in anticipation of Christ's birthday. I wish I could capture this sense of joy forever because He is there among us, all the time, and this preparation is just a reminder, a reminder of His coming and being with us… with these thoughts, I would love to wish everyone a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS...may this Christmas fill your life with good cheer, joy, love, health …and all those gifts that make life really worth living!

posted by Sylvia D'souza at 8:55 pm 4 comments

 

I have always loved languages. The ability to transform one’s thought into something tangible and to convey it most effectively to another person—no doubt, it is a skill. I have never stopped to think so much about the technicalities or rules of language simply because it came naturally to me. When you see your mother cooking and learn the art on the go, you probably don’t remember later why a teaspoon of salt would do and why not a tablespoon.

The other thing about rules, as with languages or with cooking or with anything else, is that following them makes you consistent and good, but knowing how to break them, makes you exceptional and innovative. Some great authors I’ve read don’t seem to follow the rules of good writing as we know them today (probably those rules were still evolving then or probably the rules changed later), but I would find it difficult to name books that have impressed me more.

One rule that jumps to mind is about using ‘short sentences’. Most publications, newspapers, books today cater to the impatient reader. Sentences glide quickly from one to the other and it’s not tough for the averagest of readers to get the gist, I’m sure. It’s almost become a rule now, to make your sentences short, make every word count, grab your readers’ attention before it passes on to the next page, online or off it. Personally though, I love long sentences. I love the classics where there was no end to a sentence but you still got what was meant. You probably needed to read it over sometimes but you didn’t mind. Every word didn’t count but when you put all the words together, there was a wealth of meaning hidden, so much emotion packed, so many profound ideas to be discovered—they were all conveyed and conveyed very well. What is the purpose of language if not to convey ideas, emotions, stir you or enthrall you with whatever the writer wishes to enthrall you with? I haven’t read too many things nowadays that actually inspire me—many of them are like today’s fast food, meant to ease your hunger or excite you for the moment but neither satiate nor nourish deeply.

Coming back to rules, recently someone put forward to me a question about a grammatical rule, and it got me thinking. How many of us get stuck up about grammatical rules? Isn’t grammar supposed to describe how a language works rather than control it? And don’t the rules of grammar change when a language does? So why put the rules on a pedestal instead of understanding their function in the larger scheme of things? You could have a perfectly good sentence that flouts a rule of grammar but manages to get the message across perfectly—shouldn’t the sentence pass?! You may have never put spice in your pasta but if takes your pasta to a new hitherto undiscovered level, why not? :)

posted by Sylvia D'souza at 11:55 pm 6 comments

 

I think this must be the longest gap between my blog posts ever!

At present, going through a feeling of deja vu. A feeling of walking over unpleasantly familiar territory. Change. I resist it, and as if determined to get me on good terms with it, fate pits me against change.

I hate to see known faces go. My boss of over 5 years put in his papers last month. I had read somewhere that employees are not loyal to companies but to their bosses. A good or bad boss can make or break the deal. I was lucky to have a good boss. All the more sad now to lose one.

When a change comes that we perceive as bad, we don't look beyond it. But when I look back, I realize that some of those supposedly bad changes had opportunities hidden in them. Maybe this one also does. Change makes you think, forces you to see in directions you did not see before. And, for someone like me, who does not go looking for change, maybe it's destiny's way of shaking me and saying, "there, deal with this!"

posted by Sylvia D'souza at 2:20 pm 1 comments

 

I don't belong to the Facebook generation. I use the word 'cool' to describe the chill in the air at best. I don't have any yuppie attitudes. I don't fake an accent, American or otherwise. I am comfortable with my 'Indianness'. I don't understand people who are happy in relationships but balk at the idea of marriage as if they don't go together. I don't understand the disconnectedness that masquerades as independence in today's youth. I don't understand their instant friendships and instant breakups (come to think of it, I don't understand the word 'breakup'). I believe in warmth and family and integrity and commitment and loyalty and values and all the good old stuff. I believe one can have ambitions along with emotions and they needn't be mutually exclusive. I don't think the number of friends on my mobile says much about how well I am liked. I don't understand why people pretend to be someone else all the time and then make a big deal of discovering 'who I am'. I don't understand why we try so hard to fit in when we have the option to stand out. I don't understand why as we keep moving ahead, we are leaving behind things that really matter. I don't understand Twitter and I don't understand all the new fancy fads. What I do understand is we are clutching at shadows and letting the substance flit by.

posted by Sylvia D'souza at 10:14 pm 15 comments

 

There are so many lifetimes in one life... when one feels one has lived enough, done enough, borne enough... but death is only once... that feeling of peace and closure and silence one craves for... one pursues... but ever so elusive...what is right... what is wrong... everything seems meaningless... not to the purpose... where does it all go... king and pawn go into the same box... is there any justice? nobody knows... not in this lifetime... or so many lifetimes in one...and not in this one, then does it matter... does anything matter... do you matter.... do I matter... does good matter.... what is good? nobody knows...what does it matter? does good receive good? no... probably not in this lifetime... and if not this, then does it matter... they say ego is bad...isn't ego all we have... isn't ego what binds you to yourself.... to your sense of self... to your sense of self worth... if not you, who else is there.... who else who understands you the way only you can do... who else who stands by you the way you can only do.... who else who pursues only your gain, your pleasure, your peace... who else who ignores your faults, your failings, your weaknesses.... who else, who is bound only to you and just you... who else? does the new world make any sense to me... it doesn't... its needs, its wants, its sympathies, empathies, hollowness, shallowness, superficiality, abruptness...does any of it recommend itself to you... and if it doesn't ... what do you do... where do you run... in what old world do you seek comfort... old comfort of books and songs... that is all there is sometimes... art and poetry... rarely do people come remotely close to them... rarely do they let you down... rarely do they make you feel abandoned, misunderstood, hurt.... rarely do they let you down... they are not people... that's their weakness... and their strength... they are there for you... always....in all your lifetimes... one or many... they sometimes tell your story... how different can stories be... they are all the same... they teach you something... they make you weep, sometimes laugh, sometimes elevate... but mostly, they leave you sad... sad when with them you lose a part of you... a part of you that lived a lifetime with them... with their characters, their settings... and if their story was good... you miss it... you miss not being part of that story... though you also realise it is the truth of life... the truth of lifetimes... the ones you have lived... sad comes after happy... probably the sadder because it was happier sometimes... but it cannot be for ever... just like the books... just like lifetimes... they have to end... maybe to start new stories... new beginnings... who knows... better than the one you just read... who knows?

posted by Sylvia D'souza at 1:41 pm 1 comments

 
Went on a spontaneously planned trip to the Dubai Shopping Festival with family. Had high expectations shopping wise seeing as every celebrity touts Dubai as a favourite shopping destination but have to admit I was pretty disappointed. Apart from a lovely piece of jewellery from the famous Gold Souk there, I did not return with anything better than I left with.

Architectural marvels such as Burj Khalifa (tallest man-made structure in the world), Burj Al Arab, Jumeirah, Atlantis were definitely worth a look. I didn’t feel much like an outsider in the city as most people one commonly interacted with, such as hotel staff, cabbies, salespeople were either Indians or Pakistanis (one couldn’t tell the difference easily). They all spoke Hindi but with a slight drawl, similar to how we hear Pathans speak in those 70s’ Hindi movies. One particular phrase which I took time to catch and which I found slightly amusing was “Koi Mushkil Nahin” … probably an equivalent of “No Problem”.

The weather was pleasant as we had been told to expect at this time of the year. I was a little unsure about what kind of clothes would be appropriate to wear as I read conflicting reports on the net; some said usual western clothes are okay and some said no baring of legs or shoulders (which made me wonder if sleeveless and skirts were out!). It turned out that most women wore western clothes, and really fashionable ones at that, though maybe slightly more modest than what we would find elsewhere. Most Arabic women sporting trendy clothes also wore scarves neatly covering their hair. Any woman would find it difficult to not be envious of their lovely complexions and expressive eyes.

The most memorable parts of my visit have to be the Dhow Cruise and the Desert Safari. A Dhow is a wooden boat in Arabic. Cruising along the Dubai creek, enjoying the cool sea breeze, sumptuous food, lilting melodies, vibrant coastline must be stuff that dreams are made of! And like a dream it was. The Desert Safari was a first-of-its-kind experience for me. A number of jeeps, of which one was ours, hurtled into the desert at breakneck speed. It felt nothing short of a roller coaster when our jeep went uphill and downhill over the sand—thrilling to say the least! We were told that the vehicles couldn’t risk going slow as they may get stuck in the sand, and stuck we still were a couple of times as our jeep driver tried to slow down at times in deference to an elderly couple who were also in our jeep, and who kept howling at the top of their lungs! The desert ride brought us finally into this oasis of a fest, in the middle of the desert, with a lot of tents, fancy vendors, food stalls, Henna designers and more. The highpoint of the night, after dinner in this wonderfully pulsating atmosphere, was a belly dance. I have never seen a more fascinating dance before or maybe it was the whole ambience that added to it… my eyes were glued for those 20 mins!

Have put up a few pics from the visit…

In other news, I have finally got around to making a page on Facebook. I have resisted getting into this for a while…but as they say, if you can’t beat them, join them! :)
posted by Sylvia D'souza at 6:10 pm 3 comments

 

Another milestone has been crossed. A friend objected when I used the word milestone in relation to my birthday. But what is a milestone? A birthday’s not a milestone in the goal achieved sense, yes, but it is a milestone in the journey of life. You have crossed it and you can only look back but not go back…

Every year my excitement about the day approaching diminishes. I understand why kids and teenagers are probably most excited about their birthdays. Age doesn’t seem to be a worrisome concept to them…it’s just a day to celebrate, to call friends, to cut cakes, to feel special. But, all these things don’t excite you anymore, as you grow older. You wish birthdays could come a little slower and age would creep in a little less closer…

Notwithstanding the rather sober reflections, which are characteristic of me on this day, I am feeling that ‘warm fuzzy happy’ feeling of being loved and thought about. Men would probably say that remembering someone’s birthday is no indicator of how much they care about them, but I guess all girls are equally silly, at least in this one respect. :)

posted by Sylvia D'souza at 10:08 pm 4 comments

 
Is there such a thing as being tired of ‘too much’? There was a time when people had too little and they knew what to do with that little. They had food at home, clothes once or twice a year, Doordarshan supplied enough entertainment, the odd extravagant expense was also on something perceived to be of long term value. People had limited needs and limited means, and in trying to meet the two, they seemed to find joy, they seemed to be contented, they seemed to care about values, they seemed to be able to cherish relationships.

We have no doubt achieved a lot today. Success, wealth, designer clothes, gourmet food, fast cars, international holidays, malls, satellite TV, Internet, mobile/wireless…what not. On the face of it, we should be a million times happier. Are we?

Why does gaining something mean losing something else? Is the trade-off always worth it? What have I gained if I have gained success but died of stress, leaving a young family to fend alone in the world? What have I gained if I have gained designer clothes but daily obsess about whether I look good enough? What have I gained if I have gained a thousand new channels on TV but what I end up doing is flip through them instead of finding anything worth watching? What have I gained if I have gained a mobile phone and the Internet world if I am striving to maintain a semblance of connection with my wide base of ever increasing friends? What have I gained if I have gained a huge house and a fancy car if I have not gained an honest soul I can trust and can share these things with?

I do not claim to have an answer. I also do not mean to say that we have not gained anything and all our accomplishments are nothing. But, I must admit, these thoughts cross my mind very often nowadays, forcing me to ask myself, what do I want to gain? What is the ‘real thing’? Soft bed or good sleep? I feel introspecting about what is it that makes us really happy is important from time to time, because it is easy to get lost in the age of plenty, forgetting that plenty neither means quality nor happy.

Standing on the brink of a brand new year, those are my thoughts and wishes… to have the sense to separate the wheat from the chaff; the real things from temporary pleasures, and to be really happy…and I wish you all a very happy and joyous new year too…
posted by Sylvia D'souza at 9:06 pm 9 comments