Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts

Thursday, December 29, 2022

Half Century amidst Centuries Old

Another year is coming to an end. With it, another decade of my life is coming to an end. My fiftieth birthday is just a few days away. I am not a planner. I did not quite chalk out what are the milestones I need to hit by the time I become fifty. But I think everyone has an inner sense of whether they are more or less hitting the mark or falling far behind. I must say I am pleasantly surprised to discover that even after spending five decades on earth, even after knowing up close and personal what loss is, even after having a brush with serious threat to health, I can look forward to the upcoming chapter as a yet-unknown adventure, which might be even better than what I have experienced thus far.

In 2022, the world has largely come out of its shell after two years of COVID closure. It was a struggle initially to re-embrace the post-pandemic "normalcy". The unexpected perks of pandemic--if you survived it--were precious. During the pandemic, you had the license to bathe in nostalgia. You had to learn how to look inwards rather than looking for stimulus outside. You felt good about reaching out without hesitation. You had the urge to share and the world had the time to listen. I remember I wrote so much in 2020! It slowed down in 2021, and quite unbelievably it almost stopped in 2022. This is only my second blog this year. I guess as everyone learnt to adjust to the pandemic, even objectively blog-worthy topics remained unchronicled. So here's my last-ditch attempt to capture "a moment of high" before 2022 fleets by.

Yesterday when I was scaling the steps of the Ranakpur Jain temple near Udaipur in the Western State of Rajasthan in India, a sudden jolt of emotion hit me. I am not that religious, but I silently shed tears of joy to be able to witness and soak in the intricacy and splendor of fifteenth century marble sculpting that showcases ancient India. 

That moment made me realize that personally the happiest achievement for me in 2022 is to get a handle on my health. After the rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis in May 2021, I was shaken to my core and struggled to envision a future full of physical freedom. Thanks to the relentless believers in my support system, some quiet and some vocal, now I find myself playing tennis and traveling continents. Inside the Ranakpur temple, yesterday I found my mind dreaming of scaling Machu Picchu to see the Inca citadel in Peru sometime in near future. I have harbored that dream since my childhood since I read about it in the Adventures of Tintin comic books. But I am a realist and since the scare last year, I couldn't give myself permission to dream of big travels until I could prove it to myself that my body is ready for the rigor. And I think I am ready.

India does this to my soul every time I visit. I feel proud to have been born here. I feel overjoyed when my son also feels the vibes of India. Yes it is dusty and overcrowded, but it is also authentic, pragmatic and gives one a huge sense on continuity---from the ancient grandeur to the modern ambition. I am fortunate to be able to step into a new chapter of my life while visiting India with family.

The name of this blog is "Detritus." The word itself evokes the image of ruins and in my mind it signifies emergence from the ruins too. While visiting the centuries old ruins of the Chittorgarh fort, two hours from Udaipur, I kept thinking how apt the lyrics of that famous song from the movie "Guide" (1965) are--"Aaj Phir Jeene Ki Tamanna Hai" (thematically translates to "My soul has awakened again.") The song was picturized at Chittorgarh. Art imitates life and life imitates art in the detritus of Rajasthan!!




Thursday, August 4, 2016

Between Two Countries and Me

This is the week when I have the glorious luxury of picking any book up and start reading it from any random chapter, or any random page. The bar exam was last week, and the real slog at work starts after I come back from my vacation. So I shortlisted two books that have been on my mind—and on my table—for long: “Between the World and Me,” by Ta-Nehisi Coates [no brownie points for guessing what the inspiration behind the title of this blog is], and “The Partition of Bengal: Fragile Borders and New Identities,” by Debjani Sengupta. Both are rich not only in their immediate narrative, but in their context also. I did not want to read these as my ‘escape reading’ while I was jamming my head with myriads of rules to be memorized for the bar exam. Now that I have the freedom and mental capacity to read something ‘deeper,’ I found myself faced with a unique problem—which book to read first?



I first picked up “The Partition of Bengal,” mostly because of the fact that the author is a very dear personal friend and relative, whose scholarly work I have always admired. But after reading a chapter on colony fiction, I realize my reality is far removed from the days of India’s partition in 1947. In contrast, with the very current conversation on race in this politically charged election year in America, I felt the urge to enhance my understanding of America's racial history by reading “Between the World.” [I will be honest—the very manageable size of “Between the World” at 152 compact pages with decent sized-font had its lure, compared to the 250 standard-size pages and extremely small font of “The Partition.”] Since then, I have been literally toggling between the two books, and it feels totally natural! I do not think I am disrespecting either book by not reading one continuously from start to finish before reading the other. And in a strange way, this act of toggling explained so much of why I fly off to India twice a year, even though I love being in California.

I have grown comfortable with my hybrid existence as a person who has lived almost exactly half her life in India and the other half in America.

In the last few years, I have traveled to India every six months, the immediate reason being spending time with my aging parents who were becoming increasingly fragile for travel to California. Now that both of them are gone to a different world, I have no immediate necessity to ‘visit’ them in India. I could have chosen a country that I have never visited before for a post-bar pamper-trip. But I am going to India again, to brave the sweltering heat. This time I am going to India not necessarily for the specific people who are related to me, but for the people who make India what India is. Just like I am one of the people who makes America what America is.

And oh yes, I am definitely packing my two books in my carry-on luggage for my in-flight and airport reading.

Timeless

 A few days back when I was cleaning up my personal email inbox, one particular email caught my attention. It was from my esteemed former co...