House of an Architect

 We have a few architects in the family. I was recently at the home of one. Some nice things I noticed.. 

Open to the sky. Including rain that collects in the drawing room like a pond.

Decoration on the wall, and below, a large garden.

Some of the bounty.

Mayday

 May used to be a month of school vacations, right from childhood. Though hot, we had compensations like a swimming outing in our club, and mangoes, and visits to cousins in slightly cooler places, as we grew up in the hot coal-mining towns of Kothagudem, Ramagundam and Bellampalli. So a trip to Pune was almost like going to a hill station. 

This time around, though, the situation is unreal. There is a forced Work From Home for most. The COVID situation is actually worse than it was last year, at this time. Though we know a lot more about the virus, somehow we seem less prepared for the ferocity with which it is now hitting city after city, even smaller towns.

Hunkering down and waiting for it to pass seems like the only option available, hoping you won't catch it, and getting vaccinated is the other. Of course, double-masking too, and distancing, when you have to go out of the house.

Here's hoping that the nightmare will end soon, and wishing everyone a safe month ahead. 

The New Cool

Earlier, there were three ways to be cool. Two of them involved travel. The third involved running- that started roughly a year ago.

Now, all three are out. Therefore, we have had a rethink, and had to re-invent COOL. So here are some new ways-

1. Try out weird yoga poses, either real or invented.

2. Try out new recipes. They should look good, no matter the taste.

3. Jokes and memes about staying locked up- I mean locked in. You forward them, mostly.

4. Take selfies, usually with disastrous results. You know why. What used to be super-cool, is , let's just say, lukewarm? Still, it keeps you occupied.

5. Take Balcony shots (if you have one- Rohit Srivastava, no offense). If you don't have one, well, sneak into the neighbour's and get a quick shot.

6. Write an autobiography..nobody's tried it yet, but would be Super-cool, if they did. It's not an option, coz I already did it many years ago.

7. Develop a sense of humour. Tough to do, if you didn't have one already.

International Men's Day

Men think they rule the world..maybe they do, in office. But homes are mostly unruled by them, because they are never there, mostly. The race for a promotion, or meeting targets, or just sending money home (for migrant workers) keeps them busy.

It is the women who do the bulk of the work back home even today, which makes it a comfort zone for all who live there - a bit of nagging is a small price to pay for it! This is not to celebrate the unequal partnership, but to express gratefulness for women who do what it takes, in spite of many challenges. Hopefully, one day, men will return the favour in larger numbers.

If men can at least understand the situation, it is half the battle won. Thanks to the women in our lives. It is not one, but several women who are usually behind a successful man.

Diwali

 As always, Diwali this year came with celebrating by lighting diyas at home, and some lighting experiments by the family. An example is below. Above, my kurta day.

The flower arrangements also added to the festive cheer, as did the snacks that we call "faraal" in Marathi. Mr. Chitale, the famous vendor of some of these ran out of stock on Diwali day. Good for weight-control!

Rounded the week up by meeting two ex-students, Khyati Jha and Sirisha Adi. It was great chatting about the world at large, and some happenings in our lives.

Names People Call Me

I am a man with multiple identities. I am used to being called names. From the home name (not homonym) of Raja (meaning king in India), to Raj in the U.S., hardly anyone calls me by the given name of Rajendra. In North India it changed to Rajender or Rajinder.

Being a Professor carries its own burdens, and you end up being called "Sir" (sometimes because students don't remember your name, but not always!). Variations of this are Dr. Nargundkar if they can get the last name right. In the U.S., they pronounced 'kar' as 'Car' due to cultural limitations, or habit.

It was Gunds in the MBA class at Bangalore. Sometimes Marcus Gundolius (Roman) or Gundarkar (Ghati) too. One of my friends in Bangalore later was more inventive, and just called me Nar.

I hope I have conclusively proved to you that I have multiple identities. If I haven't, go ahead and call me names.

My home office

These are the mondha-chairs I spoke of in an earlier post. They brought back childhood memories, and are presently serving as my home office chairs at Indore.  Pretty comfy.

RTI

This is not about the Right to Information but about a book called Return to India, written by Shoba Narayan. I first discovered her when I began reading the Saturday Mint Lounge recently. She writes a column in it, a pretty nice one.

The book is about THE GREAT DILEMMA that every immigrant faces at some point, or at many points- to return to your native country/home country or not. One begins to empathise with Hamlet when faced with the question, as every true-blue immigrant will tell you. Shoba writes a very honest account of her urge to get out of India and its domineering relatives' circle around her in Chennai, her transformation from a psychology student to a sculptor and a journalist (something that could only have happened in the U.S.), and her subsequent 'arranged marriage' to an NRI, love for her parents and theirs for her.

She does not pull any punches about her longing for America in the face of all the 'evils' she faces back here in her growing up years (like ultra-conservative parents). But slowly, unknowingly, she starts missing things Indian as she grows older and has children. Then this desire to return becomes an obsesssion, and she convinces her husband into taking up an assignment that brings them closer- to Singapore, and eventually to India.

The story is well-told, and will be of interest to anyone contemplating a trip abroad, a stay abroad, or a return - an RTI. Or to those with friends facing such a dilemma.

Learnings From Traffic

Traffic is the ultimate punching bag for all of us, with apparently no redeeming features. But during one such heavily-filled road journey, I came up with the following things one can learn from negotiating traffic on our roads (apart from of course, learning to use choice expletives, which some consider a useful part of language training)-

1. There are no kings or commoners here. We are all as the maker intended-equal.

2. This makes us contemplative- note that my (above) contemplations happened on the road.

3. This teaches us patience- I would have said forbearance, but I realise not many would recognise the word.

4. It lets us appreciate the beauty of our existence- the mind wanders into all the beautiful places that one could have been in -especially when you are not driving (it could be fatal if you ARE).

5. It makes us acutely aware of how much we long to be at home, or even at work. Therefore, it increases our positive feelings for both. Even the boss appears to be better than what we are going through.

Happy Trafficking (of the right kind, with the right mind).

Mere Ghar Ka Budget

It is the day of the annual budget presentation for the Indian government today. If I were to make a monthly budget for even my own house, I would be thoroughly confused. But here is my feeble attempt.

Fuel- Price of petrol x 100 litres

Electricity- Too confusing, with all those slabs differently priced. At a guess, Rs. 2000 in the Nagpur summer- next 2 months.

Movies. Multiplex tickets- 240 and single theatre - 120 (for four films a month, two in each)

Groceries- When in town, 2000 Rs. a month.

Books- Ranging between 2000- 3000.

Phone- 1000.

Cable- Rs. 200. (mostly unused)

Wife, children- Attempt to keep their spending under control, usually unsuccessfully. So, no accounts.

Free- blogging, conversation (non-phone variety), Golf at the campus, walking- anywhere,

Any wonder that I do a lot of the last in my spare time?