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… for the header pic goes to my sister and I am writing this post because she blackmailed me (emotionally uh huh uh huh) into crediting her with a post. The header is a part of a pic with me attempting to row a fictional boat in the lake pictured. Obviously, I couldn’t put all of that one up given wordpress’s cropping restrictions; so, I share with you another one taken by her at the same place. It is of me and P at the Pyramid Lake where we went for our stroll after dinner in Jasper:
Bliss.
It was hot in Calgary today. For a change. ;) We had a family friend get together over BBQ. A full afternoon of sun, splendid food, friends and did I mention splendid food ;). Fabulous.
I forgot to take pics earlier but it’s raining now. Everyone but me and P went inside. I’m sitting in the shaded part of the patio enjoying the gorgeous breeze and ocassional spray of rainwater. There ain’t a place more beautiful than here in summer time. It’s soo green and not too hot.
Yeah, it’s alright to be back home. Plus, of course, I don’t have to either cook or clean ;). Ooh sun’s out. Lemme take some pics:
Oh I know you are ;p. Kiddin. Some pics from today’s trip to the Rockies that nest my hometown in its foothills are attached with this post. This flawlessly refreshing and almost untouched (by man) beauty, I surely have missed about Canada everywhere else I’ve lived and visited. Except parts of Scottish isles actually.
We are driving through these gorgeous environs at the mo listening to Lagaan tunes. ;) I blog quickly while P drives as sis sings along to the songs sitting in the back seat. Bliss. We are soon stopping for lunch. I thought I’d type this before we get to civilization where i’d have network service and I’d be able to publish this. After lunch, we go to icefields of Athabasca glacier. P can’t contain his excitement even though he has been there gazillion times. Me and sis, on the other hand, are already shivering but can’t wait either. :) It is a phenomenal experience always.
More later. I have loads pics on other camera that will have to wait to be uploaded. These are taken by phone. Do leave comments pliss if you like what you see in order to keep my laziness motivated ;).
Blogging from phone again. This is to wish my beautiful country a very happy birthday on its 142nd. Happy burrday, Canada. :)
I’m still here in dear Kenneda. It’s now 10:17 PM and we’d be heading out to watch fireworks for Canada Day in a bit. I just stepped outside n took a pic with this phone for memories’ sake. Yep, it’s still light. :) Been 2 years since my last Canada Day here. I’m supaa excited. :)
With that note, I take off. I miss ya guys too but hey, I’d remember ya as I cuddle in a blanket with P sitting in an open ground watching fireworks in about an hour from now. ;)
Still in Kenneda of course. :) Blogging from fone. Hanging out with little kids. Playing cricket with the older. It’s good to be back home to familiarity where everyone knows you n likes to have you around or atleast pretends to. ;p
I had two hundred and fifty plus ideas to blog on over this weekend but obviously I couldn’t; Pati was hogging the computer the whole time that we were home. He had ‘office work’ to do, he justified, but instead he kept himself busy with websites written in telugu-script while I pretended to ignore. :! Later on when I brought it up with him, he said (with unmistakeably a giggle), “I have to catch up on happenings in Andhra too sometimes you know” . uh huh uh huh yes, please applaud me for my patience.
Finally, I got the machine back after I threw him out of the house to go get groceries. I was all prepared to write about the happenings of this weekend until I read IHM’s post on how she is now contemplating on sending her daughter to America. Previously, I’d read Alankrita’s sincere expression of her happiness for having left ‘that place’ (India) and moving to America. After reading IHM’s post, I also read Tears and Dreams’ post where she states that she is glad that she is not raising her daughter in India but in America. These posts are of course a response to the cowardly acts of a few pigeonhearted men who thought that mercilessly beating up women and cursing them for embracing the ‘western lifestyle of pubbing’ is a brilliant idea. As if their idea of restoring some vague idea of Indian culture that they’ve cooked up in their idle minds wasn’t a strong enough measure of their stupidity and joblessness. Isn’t it strange that more the country tries to progress in terms of its economics, the louder some voices get to put shackles on women? Is it a possibility that these voices only come from those who find themselves incapable to be a productive part of the country’s growth spurt? Do these people really have intelligence that low that they find beating their mothers, wives, and daughters a way of showing respect and upholding their skewed idea of ‘culture’? Are these people really a part of a democracy called India? Would I, as a woman, want to be a part of that democracy if I had an option to leave? Most likely not. I would much rather opt for a place that offers me the freedom to exist as I want to. Patriotism can take a hike.
What is patriotism anyway? It’s a pseudo-construct meant to bring people together just like God is. Leave patriotism out of the equation for a minute and let practicality talk, every word that IHM, Alankrita and Tears ‘n Dreams wrote make the most logical arguments that there could be.
I’ve lived in India for a brief part of my teenage while most of it was spent in Canada. The number of times that I was shamed to be growing up to be a woman in India beats Canada’s zero by far. I was only 13 when some asshole on a 2-wheeler whizzed by my bicycle as I was cycling to school and lifted my skirt before driving off laughing. I was mad. I was upset. I felt violated. I wanted to turn back the bicycle to go home and hide under my bed covers to cry. Instead, as I was taught, I shook the thought off as something that happens ‘normally’ and went to school as ‘normal’. That was 1995. Various other incidents happened that year too including some jerks trying to grope the then-non-existent breasts! Not just me but my other friends too who I used to cycle with. We thought that going together would make the asses a bit hesitant but, boy, we were wrong. They had more prey to play with, you see.
A year later, my dad bought me a 2-wheeler (scooter). That excited me to no end. Not because I no longer had to pedal everywhere but because I had speed on my side now to rid of all the potential gropers on the streets. Nope, I was wrong again. They had mastered the technique of groping women on scooters as well. They didn’t care whether I had my younger brother or sister sitting behind me. They were going to get what they wanted. There were times when in markets, obscene magazines would be thrust in my (and friends’) faces by -argh I don’t even know what to call them-. Not to mention the busy places like movie theaters. There would always be pinching – sometimes painful – and groping and cupping – you name it!-. We couldn’t even tell our parents (who were with us) for the fear of not being brought to a theater again. We didn’t tell our parents anything because we didn’t want our freedoms taken away. These incidents were only sparse (once a week maybe), we thought, and learned to accept them. Despite the acceptance at a superficial level, every time a skirt was lifted, a breast was groped, a butt was pinched … something in us bled … and our respect for our femininity slowly died.
A year later, I found myself back in Canada. Strangely, I was no longer in a consistent fight to ward off hands off me. Let hands alone, I didn’t even have to worry about eyes looking at me. There was no one whistling at me or calling me names. I could now go to movies without having a nervous breakdown. I could use public transport without wrapping myself in layers of clothes. The biggest culture-shock I experienced was seeing the confidence that girls my age had in regards to their body and their personality on a whole. They didn’t have to fear about what others thought when they chose their clothes. They didn’t think twice before doing what they wanted. They’d sing on public buses, they’d dance, they would truly be who they are and not put an act to avoid being labeled ‘tainted’. They had no such worries. They were too busy being teenagers while I had accumulated a baggage of the curse of being a woman in India already. Gradually, over the years, I let go of that baggage too and I too enjoyed dancing on tables in the middle of a packed university hall. That might sound unappealing to the reserved kind but that’s who I am and no one should take me away from me! I only have one life too … just like everyone else … and I should be allowed to live my life as I want to live it … certainly not how the world’s moral brigade intends for me to. Who are they to decide my life for me? Why should I wear knee length skirts when truly I want to wear pants that day? Why should my choice of food and clothes be judged? Why can’t I have the rights to express myself as I feel about myself?
I CAN have the rights and, lemme say in addition to Alankrita and others, I do have all those rights in America and I am GLAD to be here! Although I do have pangs to go live in India for a brief period of time, incidents like the Mangalore pub beatings that I mentioned above surely make me revisit my illogical cravings. If things keep going as they are now in India and the voices that are anti-women keep getting stronger, I don’t think I’d even want to visit the country that my parents call home. That would really be the saddest day of my life. So far, I still would consider living there for a year or two for the experience but if I have a daughter in the near future, India is definitely off my list most certainly. What can I say? I don’t want my kids grow up seeing me fight the system. I would rather want them to just be kids and grow freely, learn about the world and its ways in their own way, discover themselves, and be who they want to be. If I have the option to give them that, I would undoubtedly choose it.
Having said that, I must mention something that I don’t necessarily need to but I have to just to get it out of my system. I am tired – quite literally tired – of hearing the stereotypes even the most educated elite of India hold of the Western (primarily American) culture. It really pisses me off when someone talks of all Americans being cool with 13 year old girls getting pregnant and Americans having no ‘family’ values et al. Wherever do these people get these ideas from? Bollywood movies? Really? You really let Bollywood guide your impressions of the world? If not that, then what? Let’s talk of some of the most-commonly heard stereotypes:
1. Indians have a great family system that Westerners don’t
Really? So my neighbors who are constantly in touch with their parents, send them presents and money when needed, have dinners with them often, get together for every important day of the year etc. … they are not family people? Just that they are not living with their parents make them non-family people? My father is Indian and he clearly told all of us kids that he wants to live alone with his wife once all of us have a life of our own. All the older uncles in my family have done just that. Everyone in my generation is working on his/her own and have their own houses while parents live alone in the same city. That doesn’t mean that we don’t value our family; we just choose to live separately and not rub in each others’ faces every living moment. We have our independence and space and still maintain whatever there is to our relationships. Parents can very well take care of themselves. Maintenance needs are not as high as they are in India. Life is relatively much easier here. Houses don’t need cleaning everyday. Dishwashers clean the dishes. Food can be cooked relatively easily too. We’ll help our parents when they need to. Rest of the time, if they’d much rather have their independence, that does not make us bad children or our family lacking of ‘family values’. In Texas, I’ve been to a few Christian weddings (work related) and I am always blown away by the love all the family members have for each other. Relationships in Texan families are just as strong as in Indian families. I see no difference. Stop watching Bollywood. It’s not reality! Snap outta it please.
2. American girls get pregnant at 13 which atleast is not accepted in India yet
Well, what if I say that Indian girls are forced to marry at 13 and then they are raped by their 50 year old ‘husbands’! Would that be true for the entire population of a billion people in the country? I think I would be insulting my intelligence and this blog space if I start justifying that not all American girls get pregnant at 13; so, I’d rather not do that. Instead I’d say that atleast girls who are getting pregnant at 13 out of wedlock in America are not being forced to commit suicide. They are not collectively shamed by the society and tainted for life to never be allowed to live a happy life again for a mistake they committed in their naivete. Although teenage pregnancy is an issue that is dealt with quite seriously in schools here because it is a widespread problem for the country, the women themselves who go through teenage pregnancy are not made to feel less than anyone else. Their self-respect is not forced to be compromised. They are free to choose to keep their child if they want to and raise that child on their own as well without people jeering at them. They have what women (and men too) in India lack: freedom to live without fearing the societal norms and moral standards! I’d much rather have freedom than uphold any pseudo morals that allow a 13 year old to get raped by a man she is forced to be in bed with and denounces another 13 year old who gets pregnant without the superficial label of ‘marriage’.
3. Americans have a rubbish culture of junk food, malls, and wastage
While I do not deny the American culture (or lack of) of junk food, malls, and unconscionable wastage, that’s really not all that there is to America. Reducing America to just that is equal to calling India a land of snake charmers. Really, it is. My advice would be that if you have an issue with an ‘ignorant’ American asking you whether you ride an elephant to school in India, you better shut your trap too before trivializing American or its culture to a sentence or two.
More later. Now, I is off to watching Superbowl: another American extravaganza. Ah these Americans! So full of themselves!
Edited to add: This trip to India (Dec 2008 – Jan 2009), there were two incidents when I was ‘eve-teased’ as the term that I find insulting goes. First time, I was walking to a market with my 23 year old cousin. Both of us were fully clothed in sweaters, jeans, and sneakers. Three losers – each one of them skinner than one of my legs – whistled and mumbled something incoherently. Knowing that I could take them in a physical fight if I had to, I turned around to face them and asked them if they were talking to us. They didn’t answer. They stared at me like they’d seen a ghost. Two minutes later when they still didn’t have anything to say, we walked away. Second incident was in Chandigarh in an UPSCALE restaurant. I went to the bathroom to wash my hands before eating and while I waited at the door of the restroom, a group of men across the room started hurling nonsense I could do without. There were other people around too including staff of the restaurant. No one said anything. I chose to be quiet too that day. There were six of them plus I just wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation that day. It had been enough days in India I guess. I had retired to the idea of being ogled at and misbehaved with. I washed my hands and came back to my seat. However, even to this day, I curse myself for not having responded to them. I curse myself for not having reacted. You know what’s even more sad? Everyone who I told this story to applauded me for NOT reacting. “There’s no use of making situation worse”, they said. WTF? It’s already worse enough dammit. I am hurt inside. I feel devalued. They tell me to not let it affect me. How can I not? It injures me! Not physically but emotionally, it does. What about me? What about millions of those who have to take it everyday and not react? Why do they have to live by suppressing their hurt only to be hurt again? WHY!?! WHY should we not react? If there is enough reaction, would this nonsense not stop? Sure there will be some tragedies but the greater good is a safe existence for women, isn’t it? Obviously though, that’s not what society wants. Safe existence for women is not a priority; their ability to politely submit in a non-reactive manner is … and sadly, women are CONDITIONED to be like that … better yet, women themselves start to think that they are better off being submissive … because that’s the ‘better’ way to live. It’s sad to see intelligent women tell me that I’d change with time too. Eff that! I’ll only exist as long as my freedoms to remain as I am exist. When my freedoms are taken away from me and my personality is altered, it would no longer be me! It would only be my body walking without ‘me as I was born’!! as many do in India.
(this stuff really gets me talking!)
Barack Hussein Obama is now the 44th President of the United States of America and I couldn’t be happier for him and the country. 
Congratulations, everyone. :) His speech obviously always moves me as it does millions others but what held my heart today was an old lady who went through segregation herself in her teen age saying that she can’t wait for her one year old granddaughter to grow up so that she can tell her about Barack Obama: a young man who stood for what he believed in and did not allow anyone else to dictate otherwise. What a great piece of advice to pass on! Always believe in yourself if your intentions are good and good will happen to you and to those who you intend good for. Once again, congratulations, everyone. Barack Hussein Obama has been sworn in!
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I spoke to my 18 year old (almost 19 now) bro last night. We always have the most interesting conversations. I don’t think he ever remembers that I am a good EIGHT AND A HALF (not nine, mind you) years older than him. He treats me like he treats any of his age buddies which is cool by me since there can be no better form of flattery ;) but our conversations sometimes wind up making me really question my age. We talk of girls, drugs, booze, sex … you name it … in the choicest of words available to our young minds. So, before signing off last night, he said, “You know you are really cool, di. I can talk to you about anything and not feel judged and you’re a great problem solver too”.
Awww bless.
“Hey, yes, that’s right! I am cool! But I thought I was hot?” I replied.
Bro: I won’t deny that either.
Me: hmm I can be both cool and hot at the same time, can’t I? In fact, I’d say I am lukewarm: a good balanced mix of coolness and hotness.
Bro: lol alright! Hey, did I tell you about this brown (Indian in us Umericans’ lingo) girl who I might be seeing?
Me: (I hmmmmmed a disapproving hmmmmmmmmmmm with a question mark at the end and an exclamation mark too!) :D
He got the point.
Bro: No, di, she’s not on your lukewarmness level. Way below. ;)
Me: hee hee ok, then I approve.
… and so went the conversation. :)))
Who says that a woman can’t have more than one man in her life who’d needlessly praise her to glory just so that she is happy? :) I am lucky to be blessed with more and I sure ain’t exchanging it for anything else.
Love you, T. Love you, man. May you always be happy and may you always be in awe of your sis. :D Oh yes, he also told me that once he is rich (which is apparently going to happen in 10 years time), he will buy me a private jet so that I can visit him any time he wants me to. Awwwww. But, he added, that the jet will only have one seat for me. Pati would have to take a commercial airliner. Not just that, there would be no limousine at the airport to pick Pati up either; he would have to hail a cab. haha Reason for that is that Pati advised Bro to be careful with his money et al on his recent trip back home to Canada this November. Bro still holds a ‘mock’ grudge. :D
The NHL 2008 season kicked off recently (October 9th to be exact). In Canada, NHL is more than just a 
professional hockey league with overpaid team members battling it out for the Stanley Cup. Instead, it is a means to heat up our cold Canadian winters with the prospects of us rushing to the bars to watch key games especially those that our own city team plays. The frenzy that Canadian cities find themselves in Hockey season especially if the city team is in the playoffs is unbelievable and a lot of fun at the same time.
Today is THE (one of many) hockey night in Canada. Toronto Maple Leafs are playing Montreal Canadiens in Montreal as I type this and glance over at TV at the same time. We only discovered yesterday that we did have the NHL channel on our cable *scream of joy*. So, today, Pati switched it to the game minutes before it was about to begin. I was sitting comfortably in my bedroom reading Iphone getting excited to watch the game. And then it happened. I found myself standing on my feet … and singing the Canadian National Anthem alongwith the voices on TV. :/ I didn’t even realize how and when I stood up. Seconds later, I went outside to the living room and saw Pati standing and singing along too!!! ha ha
hmm I do miss home.
The true North .. Strong and Free! … here’s to you, my beautiful country:
National Anthem is in English and in French. I’m from Alberta. British Columbia is like second home. Manitoba and Saskatchewan provided shelter for a few months as well.
More on Canada before I go see what Pati’s upto in the kitchen:
And some more:
Addendum: oh he just made some pasta with pasta sauce that looks nothing like pasta sauce haha but tastes err…OK! :p “I was experimenting”, he says … aww I’ve gotta encourage him now by pretending that I do like this … you know how I am with food, rite? :pp. Night, my lovelies. :)
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