Tunkis
of moods, stories and ideas
Friday, May 04, 2012
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Fractals
All the same obsessions domino their way back to occupy my mind again: Dreams, memories, humor, patterns and death. About a week ago my world was shaken. My cousin sister got into a terrible accident and is still unconscious. And while she lies there dreaming, carefully treading away from death, the rest of us hold on tight to memories, hope and humor.
Today I was going through old emails and found a mail my cousin sent me two years ago. She was excited because she had just found her diary from when she was in Holland. She was very very young – seven or eight. In her mail to me she transcribed one of the diary entries that caught her eye. The mail said:
Shonu monu! i was cleaning out some of the shelves at home today and I found this diary type of thing our teachers made us keep in class 3 when I was in Holland. Look what I wrote!
"On Sunday I remembered when we were in India on that night when we were going to Maastricht. I was very very scared because I didn't wanted to go to Maastricht, but I wanted to stay with Shonu. Afterwards I opened my colouring book and why do you think I cried, because I saw Shonu's colouring and, I did forget about Shonu, but then I remembered who Shonu was, and, I cried and cried, and then I lay in bed crying louder and louder. Afterwards I sent a letter to her on a piece of paper which had a cat on it because she loves cats she also has one her name is Shadow. Her name is Shadow because our shadow's always stay with us and Shonu wants her cat always to stay with her."
(oh and the funny thing is that the title of this so called story is- 'a happy happy weekend' hahaha)
What is strange is that on reading this I realized that I too had forgotten T and this mail brought back a flood of memories. Then I remembered who T was, and I cried and cried, and then I lay in bed crying louder and louder.
Funny how these things work. The first time I had read T’s mail two years ago, I had laughed at how cutely silly it was that she had ‘forgotten’ me so quickly as a kid.
But memories have a way of working in strange ways where often people, places and time get exchanged – and we get moments like this which is a memory within a memory within a memory.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
the hour-glass of day-dreaming
Monday, March 15, 2010
The disease of forgetting...
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Monday, August 03, 2009
On waiting...
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Learning by teaching
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Interesting lives
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
On Lingering
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Snails...
Monday, September 15, 2008
health
I am wondering if I’m turning into a cry baby.
One of my courses has me studying and reading an online blog - a new method of user research in which participants maintain an online daily journal and share their life, their views. This particular study was on understanding notions surrounding health and food choice.
While this may sound very dry, and I must confess I felt pretty weighed down after being handed 500 pages of research data to read, but this stuff has me crying every few pages.
People can be so candid and honest in faceless environments... perhaps in the past year I’ve had so few "real conversations" (as in I don't remember the last time I had a lump in my throat after a conversation with a friend). Suddenly this influx of truth and unadulterated emotion and confession has me choked!
People were so forthright and honest with all the details of their life - the crazy little problems that bugged them everyday, dilemmas surrounding BIG challenges in their lives, very sad moments, moments to remember... stories about having to care for their little child who is suddenly very ill, caring a family member with a mental disability, the death of a close friend, cancer, pregnancy, eating when upset, eating to celebrate... etc.
The lives of these people seemed 'closer to the ground'. And I definitely do not mean this in a bad way. I mean I realized that since I have not had to deeply care for another person/creature and take care of anybody on a daily basis, my daily/life goals are mostly oblique. Nothing seems too scary or too urgent. Time is always on my side, and I rarely feel that I actually have something to loose. Motives and reasons for my daily actions are luke-warm.
And so I cried.
Not out of sadness but a strange relief.
We really aren’t as selfish as we are taught to believe we are... we actually perhaps function much better when we need to take care of someone (anyone, even a pet)
And then I cried again, because I missed Shadow.
Which brings me back to the beginning...
Monday, July 07, 2008
washing the mud off my stripes
And many times I just lied brown. I told people that my mother was an INDIAN from Trinidad, and that I was in fact completely Indian. I learnt the rules – that I could never correct people's English, but everybody could correct my hindi. I learnt that people who 'hated' fair skin, were good people, and people who hated dark skin were bad.
But its been some time now …
I now introduce myself as part Trinidadian. I talk about my grandmother who was from Canada. My accents not changed a notch… and I want to go back to India, after seeing a bit more of this side of the world.
Cause i do owe 'this side of the world'. This one year here HAS changed something very deeply. this was the first time when i introduced myself as Indian, i didn't have to explain my color, or make excuses for it, i WAS what i said i was. It even struck me that if i said i was American, if ANYBODY said they were American, it would be accepted without a blink of an eyelid, without the need for any explanation of color of skin. there might be undercurrents that i don't see, but there is a difference, - prejudice is not a subject of pride. and once i didn't have to fight to be seen as an indian, another door opened in my mind... my real roots. I didn't feel the need to lie anymore. No more excuses, no more fudged history.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Caste: CAR
The Caste System of India has been replaced by the Car System in
Stay with me, this makes sense.
At the top are the Cars:
This is a powerful class, and believe that all resources are meant for them or should be given to them as Dakshina.
2nd tier are the Motorized Two Wheelers:
This is the warrior class. They charge bold and brave past most obstacles. They take chances, and often are prey to it. However, as they aspire to the Car class, they too tend to believe that resources are MEANT for cars.
3rd tier are the buses
This is the trader class, the vast majority of people. They suffer many hardships but are resigned to their fate. They believe that the only way they can escape from the cycle of daily acrobatics of jumping off moving buses, transversing through moving traffic after being dropped in the middle of the road; is by moving up the chain… they aspire to buy a bike some day.
4th are the bicyclists:
This is the service class. They have no power, no right to space. They occupy the leftover space on the road. Each turn/change of lane is a life threatening event, and in the actual event of death, it is presumed that it WAS in fact the bicyclists fault, for BEING on the road that is meant for cars to begin with!
Recently a new system was introduced in
A system introduced because everybody undoubtedly ASPIRES to rise to the Car Class, and our roads can not hold that many cars, if we build more and more roads so that all cars could be in the various levels of road, the air would not be worth breathing.
The reaction of the car owners to the BRT was very similar if not IDENTICAL to the upper caste reaction to the ‘reservation system' introduced also not very long ago. While it IS the rise in the number of CARS, not buses causing the increased traffic congestion, car owners find it impossible to accept that they need to sit in a traffic jam consisting of cars, while buses move relatively freely. This reaction is almost amusing seeing that even if the BRT was NEVER introduced, these cars would be sitting in a traffic jam of similar duration in a matter on years ANYWAY owing to the rise of car ownership. So if the BRT has pre-empted the traffic conditions 2 years hence while still providing a way to get from place to place, one would expect a welcoming reaction…. But car owners would rather NOBODY get to their destination if they can’t.
So, back to my earlier comparison, the Upper caste/ Upper class seem to believe that all resources are primarily THIERS for the taking and everybody else must be grateful to receive the leftovers. Any attempt to equalize distribution goes against the very nature of the caste system ingrained as FAIR!
http://thecityfix.com/media-and-car-owners-take-on-brt-in-delhi/
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
18 to 63
Girl you gotta make things happen
or things will just keep happenin to you….
She said:
You come here young at 18, and
Blink, you’re 63
All those things you collected
You just give them out for free
I couldn’t sleep when I got here
The sirens drove me nuts
Do people really manage with
No Ifs and buts?
But then I slept so soundly
That I woke up just right now
45 years are over
And I still can’t figure how
Girl you gotta make things happen
or things will just keep happenin to you….
Well, I had just moved to Chicago,
and I wanted her rocking chair,
the sirens weren’t my problem ,
but my apartment was pretty bare…
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Ma'am
There are books you put down knowing you’ve changed
There are people that you meet, people you know that MAKE you. You would not be the same you if you hadn’t met them.
Today is a sad day. My school history teacher passed away. And I am so far away from anybody who will understand how sad this is.
Its strange. There is comfort is knowing that that somebody is there SOMEWHERE in this world, even if you never meet them again. And to know they are gone is comfort removed from a strange place…
A close friend who wrote to me telling me about this is about to go to Japan for 5 years to do a PHD in Japanese, another close friend who I wrote about this to is doing her PHD in history, all my closest friends are from my school are out there somewhere still studying… I am here, so far away from the world I know and love, to study. And I KNOW that Chitra Ma’am probably changed the course of all our lives.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Friday, March 07, 2008
turtles all the way down...
Friday, February 29, 2008
confession
I am intrigued by my growing need for blogging every now and then… its like a form of confessional behavior that I never imagined I would subscribe to.
Why I call it confessional is cause of the way I treat this space... no big secrets being let out, - no. By confessional I mean that I treat this space as a mood and meaning tracker. Unlike a personal diary this space gives me the feeling of something ‘bigger’, and a feeling of a degree of anonymity. Probably most of the people that read this blog are people that do know me, but every once in a while there comes the unknown reader.
This got me thinking about this whole need for ‘confession’ and something ‘bigger’… it sounded too much like the way people feel about god. Its probably an outrageous parallel… I know.
But I sat and thought about this for a while. Confession is a crazy strand of communication. Its with ‘nobody’, and with no expectation for a reply. I don’t blog to create an open source solution finding attempt at my life’s problems… many of my blogs end with questions, but I don’t expect answers.
So what is it about externalizing thoughts that is an end in itself?