Remember that nasty neighbor from your childhood?

The one who somehow hated it when kids made a ruckus in the apartment’s path ways. The one who would point out that kids playing in the lawn would destroy the grass. The one who made it their business to make sure any kids who laughed too hard or screamed while playing was reprimanded for destroying the peace of the community. To them, kids were the worst things that ever existed. I sometimes wondered why they were so nasty. Did they not enjoy playing as children? Did they not have kids, grand kids, nephews or nieces?  I never found out answers to these questions.

The good part - along with that one or two nasty neighbors, there were also quite a few really good adults who would back the kids up in everything they wanted to do. Play in the newly planted grass- of course! Why not? Loud games till late in the night during the summer vacation- well, that’s what summers are for. Play cricket in the middle of all the buildings and break a few window panes- nobody ever grew up without breaking a window - pane or two.

Those were our favorite kind of adults. The ones we aspired to be like, the ones we still are in touch with. They shaped our personalities almost as much as our parents did. The role models, the people we reminisce about after moving away from home and living our own adult lives. The ones we still reminisce about when we get together with old friends. The ones whose friend requests we accept on Facebook even though we aren’t really friends. 

They are the ones we sometimes miss. The ones who were a part of the unspoken cult of the watchful parents who kept an eye out for all the kids, making sure we stayed safe and on the right paths. The ones we sometimes secretly hated for being an extra set of parents that we didn’t really feel we needed. The ones who were proof that “It takes a village to raise a child” held true and they stayed true to the unspoken parent pledge.

And then suddenly you are a grown up yourself. With choices to make, kids of your own to bring up, communities to nurture and lawns to protect. So, who do you choose to be? The nasty neighbor or the cool adult? I think there’s a bit of both in everybody. Almost makes me want to say yin and yang.

Some days you have the patience to be the cool adult who is the favorite of all the neighborhood kids, the one who kids give hugs to, the one who they are comfortable sharing their little trials and tribulations with, the one who they beg to teach them new dance moves to choreograph a dance for a cultural show. Honestly though, sometimes its too much pressure to be that person.

Having recently experienced a nasty neighbor for my own kids, one who complained about parent not bringing up their kids well, not teaching them good etiquette, raising spoilt kids who become entitled adults etc. I realized there’s a bit of both in everybody and I guess we need to choose which one we display for the kids to see. I hope it’s more of the cool adult than the nasty neighbor who everybody hates from their first encounter to their last.

I tried to justify the bad behavior by attributing it to a bad day, week or month but after a mental argument with myself I decided, the person in question is an adult, insinuating 10-14 year olds of being spoilt brats who don’t know how to conduct themselves in public and in the process setting an example of the very behavior which he is condemning. And I laughed out loud.

The irony of the situation took a while to hit me but when it did, I laughed and finally understood, the nice adults from our childhood always made the choice of presenting their best self to the young impressionable kids and in the process gave us role models and that’s what I remembered and that is what I emulated. That my dear friends, is hopefully what our kids will also end up doing as adults.

So, please strive to be the nice friendly neighborhood adults and refrain from letting the nasty neighbor in you from surfacing. The reward will come when your friend request gets accepted by a happy 20 year old who remembers you as one of their favorite adults while growing up!!!

Hakuna Matata

It means ‘no worries’. The phrase popularized with the release of the Disney movie ‘The Lion King’ has stayed with me since my childhood days. It has deeply affected how I deal with everyday stresses and life in general. We live in a stressful environment. A very stressful one at that. Most mornings start at the crack of dawn with people jumping out of bed and scrambling to get through the day. Moms running around making sure the kids are ready for school and then running to get through their day, dads helping out moms or zoned out from the beating they had to take at work the day before. Kids having to sit through a horrendous bus ride to school and back through the potholed glory we choose to call roads. Grandparents trying to relax but unable to because of all the activity around them, wondering what is wrong with our generation.

So what makes us go around then? Why do we choose to do this day in and day out each day? Why
don’t all of us just throw the towel in, turn into depressed individuals and go deep within ourselves
refusing to face reality, finding solace instead in our own internal thoughts? Honestly I don’t know. I think part of it is that we have been conditioned to lead this life. A lot of us do it because it is expected of us. Some of us do it because we actually enjoy doing it. Whatever our reasons, we all do it go through our days running getting things done, from the crack of dawn till the end of the day when groggily we find our way into our bed and zone out only to get up the next day and do it all over again.

Whatever our reasons, I believe in doing it with a happy attitude. Tackle each challenge with a smile,
take life by its horns and smile at it. With the amount of stress in today’s life, it’s a miracle that we are still able to smile but the human condition is such that we have the ability to smile and laugh at the smallest things, rejoice in the smallest achievements, take the smaller pleasures in life and get enough energy from it to last us through weeks. You can choose to be depressed about all the madness or choose to be happy about what you do have going good. I choose happiness and I hope you do too. Like the song goes, don’t worry, be happy!

One year and counting

So, it’s been a year since we moved back and believe it or not I love it here. There are a LOT of issues here and I mean a LOT but there are an equal number of awesome things too.

For one, you can be comfortable in your own skin. You don’t have to feel like an alien and have people stare at you when you walk in the supermarket. I know how people here think and would react to a particular situation. It may be a good reaction or a bad reaction but I am glad I can predict it most of the time. 

My internet doesn’t work most days. Especially at night. If I call them, the tech support guys answering the call have no clue about what is wrong with the system. They are fed a few lines by the engineering staff( unavailable after 9:00 PM) and they just repeat it to the customers. They are at the receiving end of irate customers but they will smile and talk to you like a buddy. One of them told me, please come down to the office during the day and yell at them, maybe they will put better quality control in place J. No plastic smiles here. Don’t get me wrong, I would trade all the friendliness and buddy talk for better customer service any day but I do like the fact that I can connect to the person on the other end of the phone better.

The roads have more pot holes than the grand canyon and are a case study in relief features, my new car’s mud guards are in tatters because of all the illegal speed bumps, the wheel alignment is probably nonexistent and the car has aged 4 years in 4 months but I don’t really care! I have gotten used to the bad infrastructure and de-sensitized towards mundane issues like the lack of safe drinking water. It is definitely a dangerous thing but living here would do that to you. You stop noticing the bad stuff after a while.

It is probably because the good stuff masks most things. Living here makes me feel like I am at home. I know this place. This is how I grew up. I know the people. I love the fact that my children can recite the Indian National Anthem. That they know the national flag, national game, national bird, national animal and the unofficial national game of cricket. I love to hear my 7 year old rattle off names of team members of his favorite IPL team member and to hear him tell me that he wants to be a cricketer when he grows up and play for the Bangalore team J. My 3 year old came home from school the other day and started yelling ‘Jai Sind’ followed by a very eclectic rendition of ‘Jana gana mana’ which was recognizable only by its tune.

They actually know the names of all four grandparents and have met more cousins, aunts and uncles in the last one year than they did in their entire life in the US. They have a concept of extended family, miss their grandparents when they are not here, ask me to call them so they can talk to them and they want to go visit cousins in Delhi and Hyderabad. Vacation for us used to be a visit to a tourist location but now it is usually visiting family and that is just fine by me J.

I remember having neighbors who would help at the drop of a hat regardless of how long they have known you. And that is something that hasn’t changed at all. I don’t have to watch my kids when they play outside. I know they are safe in the community. I love the fact that I can knock on my neighbor’s door to ask for some ‘cheeni’ or a few green chilies if I run out and they do the same!

Talking about people, it is very endearing to be invited to your auto-vallah’s house for Satyanarayan katha or to your child’s school bus driver’s daughter’s wedding reception. I am not kidding! We got invitations for both and we went there as well. I had never had this experience before. Not even when I lived in Delhi. It says a lot about how people want to share their happiness J. These are things that haven’t changed in a long time and I sure hope it remains the same for as long as I can foresee.

One thing that has changed for the better is convenience. If you have money, life can be very convenient. Make a call and groceries arrive at your door. Domestic help is fairly cheap (finding and keeping the reliable ones is another story), including temporary help like part-time drivers. Although if you are lucky enough to find good people, keep track of them and don’t let them out of your sight! Public transport is available (however bad it may be, at least autos,taxis and buses are easily available).  And living in a gated community has its perks – security or the sense of it, maintenance people on call at all times of the day or night, ironing services available inside the complex, some even have their own grocery stores and salons. They are practically mini cities! It definitely beats having to find a different repair person every time something needs to be fixed, taking time off from work to be available for them at home and then paying an exorbitant price for a simple repair! 

The newspapers give you a gory picture of life in India, the roads are horrendous, the water undrinkable, electricity and internet service are missing in action most of the time, customer service is practically nonexistent, passing the buck has become the national sport and law and order is a joke but it is the little things that keep you tied to this place regardless of all the madness that goes on around you.

Holey Whacamole

Nope, this is not about the game! It is about the pot holed glory that Bangalore roads have become these days, thanks to the rain! So, apparently the roads are fixed every year and every year after the first showers they return to their original state of ‘holeyness’. And no, the roads don’t develop an aura or start teaching us the way of life. Pun intended. 

I honestly think the holes are always there, under the covers all summer, biding their time, itching to pop out at the first sign of rain, threatening to be unearthed by so much as a strong gust of wind. They are a car’s best fiend. That was NOT a type. I did mean a fiend. I cringe at the thought of driving on the road these days. I think my car has programmed the current potholes on my regular route in its microprocessor and I find it veering itself to one side of the road trying to avoid being tilted at a 45 degree angle while going over the newest addition to the relief features of the ‘road’. It hardly ever helps though because in some stretches, the road is entirely missing. The choice is between a 45 degree angle and a 30 degree angle. Take your pick.

Actually I think if I go over the same pothole in both directions, my wheel alignment would actually get balanced. In fact I would probably save some money. Although nobody in their right mind would EVER get their wheel alignment checked in India. Even if I get it checked (I don’t know why I would do that), I wouldn’t spend money getting it fixed. I saw an advertisement the other day that offered a discount on wheel alignment and I couldn’t help feeling bad for the poor guy who not only opened that business but also spent money advertising it. You might as well take that money and throw it out the car’s window. Or collect all such monies towards a road fund J. Because the taxes we pay go towards the ‘Swiss’ fund of the local politicians.

I think I can take the kids of our community on a field trip to the local pothole and explain quite a few geographic concepts if I spend 20 minutes there. It has ridges and valleys, mountains and hills, seas and oceans, rivers and deltas and by next season it may also boast of its own little eco system. It would be a nice case study in geography and science. I think Bangalore city officials should take advantage of these models created by nature and charge tickets for children to use them as study material. At least the potholes would have a purpose in life other than trying to break poor commuter’s backbones.

Sometimes I think it is a conspiracy by orthopedicians in Bangalore. They probably spend a lot of money appeasing the rain gods so Bangalore area sees a lot of rain and the roads are never free of potholes. The more people break their backs going over these potholes on their daily commute, the better business is for them. Or it could be a lobby of car companies who want the existing cars of the roads to die a painful death so sales would go up.

By the way, for those of you who don’t know already, these roads get ‘fixed’ every year. Which translates to the contractor getting paid to lay a new road but to save a ‘buck’, the metaphorical kind, they end up patching the road instead. Why fix the whole thing when only part of it is broken? How will they buy the latest model of the Audi if they don’t have a road to ‘fix’ next year? 

So, until the tender gets passed this year, we will be in our ‘hell hole’ and wait for the patches to come so we can move on with our life. Until next monsoon.

Aa Smell Enti?

Of all the senses bestowed upon us, the sense of smell affects us the most. Who would have thought such a small organ on your face could have such a huge impact on you? You can shut your eyes to a bad visual, cringe away from too much heat if it burns your skin or freezes it, spit out something if your tongue doesn’t like the taste, cover your ears with noise cancelling ear phones if things get too noisy but when it comes to smells, there is very little you can do to avoid them. The good, bad and ugly smells, all have to be endured! 

How many of us stop in our tracks and search all around when we smell something cooking. We could be on a busy street and just had lunch but the smell of frying samosas/jalebi/onion rings/potato fries will make most of us stop and try to find the source. A friend once told me about a restaurant owner who would fry onions right around lunch time to entice customers! Guess what? His trick worked and business went up! Ever walked through the food court at the mall and wanted to sample food from EVERY stall? I even wanted to try some of the non-vegetarian fare which smelled awesome.

Have you ever caught a whiff of the most amazing perfume in the cosmetic section of a departments store and spent 15 minutes sampling different perfumes trying to find it in the cornucopia of perfumes? I have been there, spent a heavenly 15 minutes smelling perfumes, got exasperated at not finding the one I was looking for and eventually thinking that it was a mix of scents I smelled and not one perfume. Yes, that’s what it was. Not my unwillingness to go through 100 bottles of perfume or my nose’s temporary inability to tell the perfumes apart, yes, that’s what it must have been. I have never been able to find ‘the’ perfume I smelled so that’s what I will attribute it to.

So, if you see me walking around a certain spot in a departmental store breathing deeply, please don’t think I am having an asthma attack, it is just me trying to catch a whiff of that mesmerizing smell one more time so I can go back to the shelves and look for it. Again.

There are some of us who can go through the day and ignore the overpowering smells around them but not me. I have been “blessed” with an enhanced sense of smell. I remember smells from my childhood! A strong smell will often trigger a memory. The smell of sandalwood powder reminds me of my teenage in India, the smell of baby powder, that of my kids’ diaper days J. The smell of my mom’s cooking reminds me of the days when the pressure cooker’s whistle acted as an alarm for us to get out of bed and rush to get dressed for school. I even remember the way some people smell! I would catch a whiff of a scent and go into la la land thinking about an old friend and how much fun we had together or how much I hated the smell of that particular hair oil J

The other side of the coin is being extremely sensitive to bad smells. While most people can walk past a garbage can and not smell much, I can catch the faintest odor. I remember dreading walking to karate class because the road went past a community dumpster which didn’t really smell bad but to me it was the equivalent of the city dump. If my food didn’t smell good, I wouldn’t eat it no matter how good it tasted. I always drive with my air vents closed, especially when driving in a skunk infested area. Believe me, the smell stays in the car for DAYS! 

I knew I had an elevated sense of smell but I didn’t really pay too much attention to it until my younger son started displaying similar traits. Yes! It is hereditary! He identifies EVERYTHING by its smell. His favorite sentence- ‘ aa smell enti ?’ which translates to ‘ what is that smell?’. He hates bad smells with the same fervor. The best way to persuade him to eat is making sure it smells good! He gives me a hard time if we get into an elevator with somebody who has a strong body odor.

I smile every time he asks me ‘aa smell enti?’ I don’t think anybody else would understand the depth of that simple sentence as much as I do! The tradition continues…