I miss(ed) Vinayagar Chathurthi

I wake up on a nice Sunday morning happily at 10:30 am. In fact, I was even glad that I woke up early that Sunday, even more glad that I needn't cook that day cos we were visiting one of our friends for lunch. So, I still kept stretching in bed, cos it looked like there was not much to do anyways by waking up early. Next to me my husband was talking to his parents in India and I was half listening to the conversation and half asleep (no no no... I was not doing the evil act of spying or anything. I was just there and you know, how sound waves cannot be stopped and so they just hit my ears) . And I heard him talk about Vinayagar Chathurthi and 'What was special' at their end.

My brain woke up with a start, 'Wait, a minute... Did he just say Vinayagar Chathurthi!'. I woke up instantly and shouted 'When is it?' . He said 'Today.. Well, it is almost the end of the day in India.' I then barked at him for not letting me know earlier. I immediately called my mom and asked (well, I couldn't bark at her) her why she didn't tell me and I was kind of cursing the whole world for not letting me know. I was angry at everyone because I was actually angry over myself for missing the day. You must be wondering, 'Why so much tension? What if you had forgotten? It is ok'. But somehow I couldn't make myself feel that way. I felt utterly irresponsible, and mostly because Vinayagar is my favourite God. I am not sure if it is 'bakthi', but His thoughts have always made me feel good. It could be because of the stories that my grandmom used to tell me about him when I was a kid. It could be because of how she taught me how to bathe the idol and decorate him with flowers at our nearest temple. It could be because I used to amuse myself in collecting different mini idols of Him. It could be because his temple was very close to our house and I used to visit him almost everyday when I was in India. Whatever be the reason, I always felt a kinship with Vinayagar and missing his birthday felt like forgetting a clsoe friend's birthday.

Then we left for our friend's place, and yes they had finished the pooja and served us kolukattai. It did make me feel better, cos atleast that instilled a sense of festivity in me but still it was not the same. Things still didn't feel like how it is in India, like how it is at home. I did try to pacify Vinayagar by making kolukattai a week later, but I messed it up too. I looked at the messed up Kolukattai's and kept thinking that this doesn't feel like Vinyagar Chathurthi at all. (Now, at this point I see a spiral - symbolic for flashback in our Indian movies, and that brings to me memories of a typical Vinayagar Chathurthi at home)

The very first difference being, I would have known it is Vinayagar Chathurthi because that would have been a holiday and all the tv channels would have been proclaiming it for a whole month. It kind of awakens the spirit of the festivity really early, with Sun Tvs special programs and new movie ads, 'Indhiya tholaikaatchigalil mudhan muraiyaga.... Thiraikku vandhu sila maadhangalae aana... Super hit thirai padam', believe me, things are not the same without hearing those once annoying television commercials. Then to add on to the proclamation of the approaching festivity would be the huge speakers that are raised in the streets, that sing Bakthi songs in the evenings. Well you must be thinking that I am happily away from those kind of disturbances sitting here, but actually I am not enjoying but I miss those really loud songs. I miss trying to study in those deafening sounds. I miss the fun and feeling of festivity.

The next things would have been how good I would feel that day. Well, waking up early and taking bath and getting ready for the pooja made me feel good. Then I would go out to get the pooja items, a small pillaiyar freshly made in the morning, a colorful umbrella for him, a small garland made from this favourite flower. While others are bargaining for a good price for the Vinayagar, I would get it for whatever price the seller asks for, and buy the garland from those kids who come running behind saying 'Akka... en kitta vaangikko ka...'., and even give them an extra rupee than what they ask for. Well, I know these are highly inconspicuous acts of kindness but it still made me feel (selfishly) good. Then back home, it would be time to clean all the Gods and decorate them, which has always been my favorite tasks to do. By that time amma would have called me for making Kolukattais. While she is trying hard to make them is the proper shape, so that the stuffing doesn't come out and also to make them as soon as possible, I would be employing my annoying creativity to create suns and moons and stars out of them. Once the kolukattais are ready, the pooja is done and then it is time for all those infinite special television shows. Dad wouldn't miss the Solomon Pappayya's patti mandram and we enjoy it too. The day doesn't end there, it is complete only after waiting till midnight when Vinayagar from the nearby temple is taken in a procession to every street and everyone waits outside their houses with their offerings for God. The glimpse of the God and whole heartedly offering what we have completes the day.

At this point my flashback spiral gets cut, with my husband saying, 'Its ok da. The kolukattai's taste good. They are just a little out of shape'. I smile and I say to myself that I am not going to miss this day next year and I am going to get my Kolukattai's right next time. It would be the closest that I could get to celebrating Vinayagar Chathurthi in US with no speakers, so suntv, no fresh mud pillaiyar, no colorful umbrellas, no erukalam poo maalai, no solomon paapayya, and no processions!

Love is inspite of Differences

They were walking peacefully on the shores of the Atlantic; the breaking waves gently gracing their feet. It was the perfect time in the evening, when the hues of dusk hasn't completely faded and the moon is already up in the sky. Still wet form her earlier fun in the beach she is wrapped in a cozy towel while they walk hand in hand; no words exchanged but listening only to the unexpresed ;) conversations of the heart.

As she feels the gentle breeze hit her face and gently blow up her curls , she takes in a deep breath and wishes, that this moment of their togetherness would last forever. He gives his hand a gentle squeeze and a secret smile escapes her lips. At about the same time as if the same breeze had an effect on him, he thinks 'How great would it feel to drive a Hummer on this beach? Those powerful wheels should be able to get him drive along even a little further in the water than they are.' This thought excited him and he turns and smiles at her. Encouraged she gets closer and into his arms into his arms, and he gives her a gentle squeeze. Now, she could no longer contain her curiosity and asks, 'What made you smile?' He innocently and still excited by his recent thought replies 'I was thinking of riding a hummer along these crashing waves.' Slightly disappointed that he didn't share her feelings, she simply nods and smiles.

A little further along their walk, they decide to build a castle of sand. She gets all excited and plans to build a very pretty pricess castle, like the one in fairy tales, like the one in Disneyland. She starts by raising the tallest tower of her castle, while suddenly she realizes that he is digging a deep trench all around it. 'What is that for?' she inquires. He replies by saying that trenches are always built around castles for protection during times of war' 'War??? Why would there be any war. Fairy lands are always peaceful and happy..Whoever did mention anything about any war???', she thinks to herself, but says nothing against it. Suddenly, the mood of the evening had changed on her. A rush of thoughts and emotions go through her mind. 'God! We are so different. We seem to want completely different things. I am not sure how things are going to work between us. It all seemed so perfect in the beginning, but now everything is changing.'

Absorbed in her disturbing thoughts she was absent mindedly making the stairs and pathways to her castle. Suddenly, he hugs her from behind and excitedly says, 'Look! The trench is done and I have got water flowing through it as well' At those few seconds of being wrapped in his arms, she realizes how protected and so well taken care of she felt around him. And here she was obsessing over the change in the building plan of her sand castle, while in fact, he had only added his protectiveness to the castle as well. She realizes how she still is a special person to him and abandons her silly thoughts and excitedly starts building a bridge over the trench. She adds neat little fences around the trench and the bridge and completes its look. They stand back and proudly admire their creation for a while. He feels so accomplished and smiles and hugs her. She hugs back thinking "Love is not without differences, Love is inspite of differences."

"I Believe."

"I believe. Do you believe? Or, may be you just don't wish to believe, or you think believing is nonsense. "

Alright ... alright. Enough of my cryptic stupidity. Here is yet another blog-post, that derives its inspiration from yet another movie (gosh...I never knew that I was drawn so much by movies). This time its the movie 'The Polar Express'.

Those of you who have no idea what the movie is, continue reading... the rest can skip this paragraph. Well "The Polar Express" is a animation movie about this kid who like many of us acts smart, and says there is no Santa Claus and does not believe in any of those mythical characters related to Christmas. On the night of Christmas Eve, he is awoken by a glittering train that stops righ tin front of his house and he steps into it to be taken to the North Pole to see Santa Claus, or at least that's what he was told though he still didn't believe it. On reaching the North Pole he finds thousands of children who had been brought there by this train and the place was so filled with merriment and excitement about seeing Santa Claus and receiving their Christmas gifts. The clock struck 12 and the sound of Santa's sleigh and tinkering of bells was heard by all... all but our little hero. He wondered why this was happening to him and when every body was able to finally catch a glimpse of Santa, this guy is still not able to see him. Now he gets desperate and disappointed, and there he wishes he'd be able to see Santa. He closes his eyes and says "I believe he exists", and all of a sudden he was able to hear the tinkering bells of Santa's sleigh and opened his eyes to see Santa standing right in front of him. Then he is safely brought back home and is back in bed to wake up for a whole new christmas experience. He and his little sister run to the X-mas tree to open their presents. The movie ends with the kid and his little sister jumping in excitement for they were able to hear the tinkering of bells, while their parents retort by saying "They do not hear anything." (I apologize to the writers, directors and producers of the movie or anyone who knows the story, for screwing up any facts in this narration, but I guess the essence of the movie captured is right.)

Most of us, especially the geeky ones overshadowed by technology and the philosophical ones who are so lost in figuring everything out, are like the little boy. We just do not want to believe in things because their is no fact, or concrete evidence behind them or just because it sounds so childish and stupid or very simply because, we have grown up and we just know that it doesn't exist (even worse are the ones who believe but do it secretly for they do not want to look stupid). In being so we miss the small joys and the little thrills of life. We get overly analytical or overly skeptical of even the simplest things.

To all those non-believers out there: just shed your halos of wisdom or your fake masks of knowledge just once, and feel how pretty things get when u become a believer. You don't lose much (in fact, you lose nothing) when u think there is a protective fairy taking care of you. Just the thought of it, actually makes me feel good and cared for. You don't lose much, when you believe that there exists a world of magic where things just happen with the whisk of a wand. It only stretches my imagination and kindles my creativity (And btw, I love HARRY POTTER!). You don't lose much when you believe in miracles that are one day going to wipe out all misery and fill the world with joy. It only fills my heart with hope and makes me eager to be a part of a better tomorrow. And when you feel over stressed on a day, it is ok to call out to your favorite genie for help. It will only make you feel better and confident when you know that you have some help to get you through your tasks. (I could go on in a different direction at this point, but trying not to get into religious arguments... but I guess you get my point ;))

So let your imaginations go wide, unleash the child in you to feel excited about things and know that it is ok to "Believe" if it makes you feel better about yourself and about this life and everything about life. And for all those lazy bums who think that a fairy is going to take care of their work and a miracle would happen and magically finish up all their responsibilities, I wish to say "BELIEVE RESPONSIBLY!"

Ruby & Me

Well... from the title you can make out that I am yet another highly sentimental soul who cried over Marley's death in the movie "Marley & Me" and when words can't express enough of my grief I resort to writing a blog. (Pls don't think that I am using my blog as a 'Mourning Ground'. I promise my next blog will be on a happy note.)

Ruby (a white pomeranian pup) came to our home when she was about a year and a half old, as her previous owner didn't care for her anymore. Even though she was a very cute pup she was not my favourite because of her angry snarl and her unfriendly bark. I can describe her as a pretentiously serene pup with a highly intimidating air. I preferred our other pet Julie (a chocolate brown labrador) who on the other hand was a pretentiously intimidating (she was huge with a brilliant bark) dog with a highly serene air. My dad used to say that, the new place and the new people actually scared Ruby. A child myself I retorted by saying "She doesn't seem to act like she is scared. It looks more like she wants to scare us." Needless to say that, I kept myself as far away from her as possible.

As days passed, she became more adapted to the new place. She became less unfriendly, but she was the funniest little thing. We used to have a huge fenced area surrounding our home (veterinary university quarters), and a lot of people would be found walking around, like college students, staff, veterinary hospital visitors and workers. Ruby would bark at everyone who walks by. She would start barking from the beginning of the fence (she would be inside the fence and they outside it) at someone who dared to walk close enough to it, follow them along the fence barking till she reaches a point where she cannot follow them anymore. Then she would go back again to the beginning of the fence and start the same with someone else. It was so hysterical and she had amazing energy. She would never get tired.

There is a reason why I decided to make this blogpost "Ruby & me" rather than "Julie & Me" though I used to like Julie a lot. Now... No laughing at what I am about to say, but this is true. "There was good chemistry between us". As Ruby grew she became less weird and she was strangely very attracted to me. It was like she knew me and she was utterly devoted to me. We were like the nursery rhyme "Mary and the little Lamb", just that instead of a lamb it was a dog and instead of Mary it was me, and of course I didn't let her follow me to school (now it doesn't sound too much like the rhyme, after all these exclusions) . Ruby knew the time I came back from school or college. Even if I were late by several hours she would not leave that place till I am back home. And all this waiting was just for a pat or rub that I would give her once I returned. She even cried when I cried and gave me a shoulder to cry on when I needed one sometimes. When I studied she was always by my side although I had a annoying way of studying very loudly as if I was lecturing someone. Ruby always was a very attentive student during my lectures :). I would look her in the eye when I recite and she would continue to look back at me even if it was the most boring subject. My mom used to say "May be the way you study sounds like dog-talk".

The unacceptable aspect of having such a faithful all-time following dog was I cannot play hide and seek. All that my brother had to do to find me when I was hiding was to let Ruby out of her shed and follow her till she traces me down through her senses. I used to hate her for that (but, now it is all so funny and quite endearing at the same time). I never understood why she liked me so much. I wasn't the one who fed her, my mom did. I wasn't the one who took her out, my dad did. I can't remember petting her for more than a minute a day or even noticing her when she was looking all eagerly at me.

She passed away when I was away from home. I felt bad when I came to know of it, but I didn't shed a tear (How insensitive of me!) . I didn't miss her incredibly either, though I was at a slight feeling of loss. But it was this weekend while watching this movie that it all came back to me. I remembered Ruby through every scene of the movie and at the end of the movie when I cried I wasn't sure what I was crying so much for. Was it for Marley or was it for Ruby. It made me feel like I could have reciprocated her love a little more than just those occasional pats and rubs and study sessions. I wasn't near her when she passed away, but I wish I was there to make her feel better. I wish I had cried a little over her grave. I wish I hadn't taken her love for granted for though I might have several other pets through the years, I know that no other pet would cry when I cried, jump happily when I was happy, study long hours with me, wait tirelessly for me when I am late from work or be faithfully by my side always.

Why it is called what it is called....

After much deliberation on what to name my blog I finally settled on "Unexpressed Expressed". When something took so long to decide it is only fair that I wish to express what went into the decision. So here I go: Expressing the Unexpressed ......

I can already hear some voices mumbling, "Who is stopping you from expressing? You are a free person. Do what you want. Speak out your mind." Well, to the ones asking, "You are not stopping me, nobody is stopping me. (Here comes the age old expression!!! ) It is not you, its me".

During my early stages of life, in those 'ages of innocence' ;) when you don't think a lot about things (other than for those things which you considered so important then, but seem too silly even to mention right now), I hardly used to express my views. Sometimes, I used to doubt if I really had any views on my own cos I was so used to keeping quiet and following the code of conduct that school, society and family has already established. It actually made me feel proud, for I am, in fact, a very 'proudy' (dictionary.com says this word doesn't exist, but I am going to stick to my desi English) person. I considered myself as a very patient and tolerant soul, open to all views and obedient to all laws. And so I thought, that I was built that way, raised that way and remained that way without wondering why I was that way.

Then a change of scene/location, I am in US all by myself, I am faced with totally new situations to make decisions every day.No longer a protected and guided lamb, where my thoughts were overshadowed by a guardian. I suddenly seem to no longer be the person who agrees to all that is being said around her. I had specific opinions about things which I expressed freely. I began defining myself. I liked what I was defining.

Then again a change in scene/location/responsibilities/life, and all of a sudden I am married, back again in family life. Now, you can see where I am getting to isn't it? Should I become the innocent lamb or the 'Miss. IKnowWhatIAm'? First I didn't think I had to decide anything. I am what I am, so will remain what I am and will express what I think, or thats what I thought. And there was nothing really preventing me (atleast explicitly) from staying that way. But thats not how it works when you are in a family, with the one that you love the most. Opinions differ, arguments build and eventually hurt remains. The silent lamb began surfacing again. I then realized why I was that way in my early days of life. I realized that I had opinion about things even then, but it went unexpressed for a purpose. I simply wanted to be accepted by my loved ones. It is the feeling of wanting to make them feel that you agree with them. Now, I liked the reason I gave, but it felt like I am not being myself? Isn't it like I am covering up who I truly am? That's when it dawned on me that, the 'silent lamb' is the person I am - a person who wants to be accepted by her loved one.

Alright, I have sounded angelic enough already. I have portrayed myself as a sacrificing soul who curbs her right of expression for making others happy. Well, that doesn't sound like me even to myself. Here is the demonic side. The other bitter part of the truth is, I do not express my views because very plainly I am not open to an argument. Yes, I can't take it when someone says I am wrong. The fear of being shot down (plus, the anger that comes with it "How dare you disagree with me?"), not knowing how to defend my views and of course, the need to be accepted together put how much I expressed in check. I began redefining myself, and I liked what I was redefining.

But can a woman keep mum about what she thinks... noooooo.... atleast, I can't, especially after knowing what my view of things are. I somehow have to get my point across and also, get it across without being shot down.... so, there is no better way than through a blog - which is called what it is called.