What's In A Name ?

I always thought that people give too much importance to names until today.  My roommate told me of an old Chinese tradition where rich Chinese people were bestowed with short last names. The shorter the surname the richer they were. Till today Chinese know that anyone with a short lastname hails from a rich and aristocratic family. So anytime a my roommates Chinese friends on hear my surname they think I am from a very wealthy family. That brought a smile to my face. This is a thought I will relish for a long long time. 

Susan Boyle

I recently watched Susan Boyle sing on "Britain's Got Talent" and I think I must have watched that video 20 times in 2 days. In addition to the fact that she has a phenomenal voice which can keep anyone glued to that video I believe that there is something about that entire episode which has an universal appeal.

The success of the underdog, bringing bullies down to their knees, realisation of a childhood dream a fairy tale ending. I believe that's what I loved that video. It would be hard to find a person who didn't have a dream which they had to give up since they thought they could never make it come true. Dreams abandoned because people didn't have faith in us and eventually we lost faith in ourselves.

Susan Boyle's story is a positive one, a story which reinstates our faith in ourself, in miracles and in life itself.

  

Pre Independence India

This is for all my friends who still think that the British served India during their 200 years long stay. Seeing is believing (No, this guy was not getting a pedicure).

Return

After a long break from blogging I checked my blog page yesterdy and was welcomed with a pleasant comment which made my day. So I have a few readers of my blog... I guess I am not too bad at writing then.  The last 3 months were hectic of course but not more hectic than usual, I guess I was just plain lazy and was not blogging but now I will try and blog again regularly. 

Strangely, I didn't read or hear anything which could trigger a train of thoughts. Usually it's something like that which helps me write or some memory. That reminds me, after a very long time I managed to track down a poem which I had been looking for, for the past 4 years. It was a poem by Alfred Tennyson and the lines which kept ringing in my ears for so long were

"In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,

And thinking of the days that are no more."

The poem is "Tears, Idle Tears". It feels good to finally get rid of that nagging feeling at the back of my mind but the lines will forever haunt me.

The Gift

I recently gave myself a gift and I am proud of it. Some time of my life to myself to be spent the way I wanted to. I knew I was living in a fools paradise and it would not last forever, but then whose happiness lasts forever ? The only difference is I knew the timeline for my happiness, others don't. Sometimes maybe a little happiness is better than none at all.

Mumbai Hostage

For 3 days Mumbai burnt and the world watched. A 100 million people in India could not change the destiny of the city. 214 people dead according to official counts and hundreds more injured. So what is different about this terror attack, what makes it bigger than any other before ? The fact that the targets were the destination of the rich and famous. So will it bring about a change in the system? Will the country and the security officials be more prepared and more alert hence forth? Or is India becoming a soft target for the terrorist. With ill-equipped police forces, vulnerable coasts and the huge population which only makes it easier to get lost in the crowd India is fast becoming a favourite destination for terrorists. The 2500 year old Jewish community of Mumbai which had never felt endangered in the past met with dire consequences during this attack.  

The attacks were followed by protest and marches from the Youth but will that change anything, I don't question the feelings or the emotions of the people who participated in that march but at the end the ball is always in the politicians court. 2 years back I participated in the march against reservation and Arjun Singh. The youth believed then that we could stop this politically motivated attempt to please the minorities. After a year our aspiration were squashed and the politicians might prevailed. All the protests were in vain. So will India forget this incident too and move on hoping for things to change but never really expecting anything to happen.

India's condition is like a lady caught in a bad marriage with an abusive husband. She hopes daily that he won't beat her and for sometime he doesn't and she think things have changed only to see herself being beaten black annd blue after some days. Not a word is spoken after the abuse and no action taken. All there is, is a hope for miracle. Sadly miracles don't happen anymore.

It's a sad feeling to think that a country with so much man-power can be held hostage by a mere 10 men with fire arms. And it's a worse feeling when I think that I am helpless and can do nothing to make my country a better and safer place. Who knows after a few days even I might forget this episode and move on, I am an Indian after all.

Bookish Me

I have always believed that books are the best thing that ever happened to me. However now I realise thats after years of living life through books I have become too bookish. Books are the end all and the be all of my life. I have begun to judge life, people and situations based on characters and situations from books. It was all fine till I learnt the good things. Now I think I have reached a point where I am letting it hurt me.

Of late I have realised life is not what I read in books, it is what I live everyday and good people are not the characters from my favourite novels, they are the ones who have stood by me for so many years and are a part of my life. They don't act like those characters, talk like them, behave like them, nor have the sky high ideals like them but they are so real. Just as real as I am. 

Food.. I miss you !!!

For somebody who missed her meal once in 4 years in college I think it's blasphemous that I skip my lunch everytime I have to give a presentation post lunch. Infact I even postpone/miss my lunch till after I have my meeting with my advisor every week. And also when I have an exam. 

Being a PhD student I think I will be giving presentation and talk on an average 3 times every semester, 2 exams on an average every semester and will have atleast 28 meetings with my advisor during a semester. So on an average I miss my lunch 33 times a semester and assuming I graduate in 4 years that is 33*2*4=264 skipped lunches. The figures are overwhelming to say the least inspite of the fact that I have kept it very conservative. I can't imagine the "food-centric" me can survive that many days without food. 

I guess this is the price I have to pay as a Graduate student. 

Happy

I choose to call this post "Happy" because for the past 2 months that has been my state of mind. A lot has changed in 2 months and then again nothing really has. I guess it's all in the mind. I finally made peace with myself. I am now happy with what I get and I no longer pine for what I cannot get. Sometimes it's wiser being happy with what you have right now then planning for future happiness which, well, never really comes around. A few things which has made me happy in the last 2 months.

-My Chicago Trip

-Ash's NY Trip

-My new house

-My studies

-My Research(partially, I would say, will be complete when I finally get my PhD)

-My Thanksgiving plans

-My Christmas plans

-My busy weekends

-My new easy chair

-My new Reader

-The books in my school library

Ok, this list is getting way to long. But I guess it doesn't hurt.  A few things ofcourse were not perfect. But then I survived it all.

Dad

After a long long time I actually spent 3 months at home with my parents, actually after 8 years. In the interim period I probably spent 10 days at a stretch with my parents. This time helped me appreciate my Dad's influence in my life all over again. 

It's strange how after being away from each other so long we still connect so well. I spent so many nights chatting with him over a cup of coffee (much to my mother's disapproval). We talked about everything under the sun from politics to psychology. And it's amazing how I feel I am talking to someone who is just an older version of me. We think alike except once in a while when we talk about West Bengal politics. I guess that's the only point we don't see eye to eye. But even disagreeing with him has it's advantages. I see a lot more of the other side of the story which I wouldn't otherwise. More than anything else I believe these conversations helped me rebond with my Dad. His distaste for telphone conversations made those moments all the more special for me. 

Now that I am back in US I miss those conversations. These are the times I wish I was back home or I wish my parents were here with me. I don't think even for a second that they would move in with me forever here but I hope some day they come and live with me for a while. Till then I will miss him and our lenghty conversations every time I pick up a cup of coffee.