03.15 sita sings the blues

question:

sita sings the blues, a feature-length animated film and "the greatest break-up story ever told", is unique because it is:
a) set against the backdrop of the hindu legend of the ramayana
b) a mash-up of three distinct 2-d cartoon styles
c) soundtracked by annette hanshaw, a 1930's flapper and blues singer
d) all of the above

d you say? ding-ding! you got it!

i gotta hand it to nina paley, a cartoonist and the one-woman film-maker behind sita sings the blues. the reviews say it all: points for artistic direction, animation, plot, characters, costumes, music and ingenuity! some are offended by cartoon depictions of the sacred sita and rama singing and dancing and by the film 'zooming in' on a small piece of the ramayana told only from sita's perspective... totally understandable.

but i have to comment that the film got me interested in the epic of the ramayana (which until now had daunted me because of its complexity). i think this film opens up indian culture and the history and legends of the hindu religion to a whole new audience. and in a totally endearing way.

the indian-accented shadow puppets quibbling over facts of the legend of sita and rama are hilarious, and sita whimsically singing annette hanshaw's blues songs, including 'who's that knocking at my door' stole the show for me (yep, despite the fact that i generally hate musicals).

copyright restrictions are currently preventing the film from theatrical distribution... the only place to watch it is at a festival, or for most of us, online.

check out part one here (click on the HD button at the bottom to watch in hi-def):


all 10 parts here... enjoy!!

01.04 slumdog - serving up some india

i'm probably one of the last people i know to watch danny boyle and loveleen tandan's slumdog millionaire. for those who haven't seen it, there are hundreds of plot summaries online so i'll spare you.. i'm calling the film a 'classic underdog fairytale'. and don't get me wrong. the film is fantastic - but it ain't pretty.

the writers and directors have very courageously heated up the underdog fairytale formulas - creatively accomplished - and served them to us with heaping spoonfuls of spice and flavour. but when in india, how can any self-respecting filmmaker not? gory and glory alike, bombay and nearby locales like agra are captured in full colour, sounds and smell and taste even - from paan puri to outhouse excrement - all of which lift off screen right into your face.

even in the fairytale comes a moment of political poignancy: some food for the brain. i loved when dev patel (playing 16-year old jamal) is asked about a $100USD bill and leaning into a flashback he says, "it was when bombay turned into mumbai". how succinctly he manages to say that it's the US's turn to have it's way with india. brilliant dialogue.

but then we taste some cheese whipped up by whirlwind romance when the doe-eyed and loveable and latika (played by gorgeous freida pinto) asks jamal what they will live on if she runs away with him. he unflinchingly answers, "love". haha! but then again, it wouldn't be a classic fairytale otherwise, would it?

and yeah and there's some chicken soup for the soul, the film has its lessons in morality. when comparing to mirelles's city of god - another vivid and gritty coming-of-age film set in a massive slum, slumdog is a lead-by-example hero-in-the-making lesson, while city of god is a downward spiral of worst-case scenarios as seen through the lens of an aspiring photographer. both resonate well with young audiences through impeccable camera work and an ear-to-the-ground. we'll come back to the ear in a second... one of the lessons we learn is that greed can lead you down very dark paths. the other? when you want something that's good for you, go after it - the right way. but the road there even when laden with the truth - can be just as thorny as cheating, lying and stealing.

lastly, i have to comment on the likability of the film, not just for viewers in the english speaking world, but for indians alike. boyle sneaked a healthy 30% of hindi dialogue (promising producers only 10%) but it makes the film feel more realistic and likeable. apart from boyle much of the cast and crew are local - ranging from unknowns from the to very famous indian actors - and like city of god, the co-director is also a local woman. i'm interested in indians' reception. overall, i think the film delivers what most viewers long for - a believable plot, good acting, and solid direction that combine for a satisfying escape from daily reality. and it does - with much eloquence and style. one thing that is lacking however is the musical genre that indians love so much. one of the reasons i liked the film so much is that there are no spontaneous breaking out into song, except for when the credits roll (very stylishly done at that).

so that takes us back to the ear.... the soundtrack is phenomenal, with legend score-master a.r. raheman delivering a fast-paced musical pulse that matches the action of the slum underworld. m.i.a.'s tracks were a little distracting to me, but well suited to the film. i liked the stripped down version of her 'paper planes'. i would have loved to hear some nitin sawhney on the score but that's just me!

i am a little surprised that the film is being released in india so late (US release was november. the indian release, late january).

i have a sneaking suspicion that a lot of tech-savvy india has already seen it anyway via bootleg or online. or perhaps - with a film goliath like bollywood in their backyards - it's possible that slumdog could just get lost in the bolly-shuffle of 2009 releases. in any case, if you're hungry for a film that will deliver, slumdog satisfies.


[update jan 11 - slumdog won three golden globes tonight! best score (a.r. raheman), best screenplay (simon beaufoy) and... best film. really great way to recognize all who were involved with the film and pump up india for their theatrical release next week... congrats are in order!]

select scene from the film... enjoy!

09.23 the swastika, a hijacked symbol

so i was reading some "fashion" blog this morning - rare for me - and came across a post blog called "zara swastika bag" that immediately caught my attention. as a girl who likes a good bag, i was a little excited to see it adorned with the ancient symbol of peace and prosperity.

i looked at the bag and noticed immediately the swastika symbol on the left side.

as i read the comments on the bag-blog, i recognize how the pain that the symbol would cause to jews in the west, where the bag was to be sold. but i was a little struck how nobody recognized that there are also hundreds of millions of indians, in particular hindus, buddhists, and jains live in the west as well. to this day, they still use the swastika for peace, prosperity and good luck.

in fact, the swastika was used all over the world, pre-dating christianity in europe, in native american tradition, and even as far back as the bronze age. only in the last 80 years has it come to mean something entirely different, all thanks to nazi propaganda.

but this "symbol hijacking" was no mistake. the nazis intentionally took an emblem that was used by non-germans on the most holy and celebratory occasions and turned it into an icon of racism and horror, obliterating or reversing its original meaning and turning the world against the people (evidently non-german people) who had been most known to use it in the first place.

in the west (and perhaps also among america-followers living in the east), the swastika's original beauty and true meaning will forever be marred by thoughts of the nazi regime, white supremacy, racism and the holocaust.

because of the commotion it caused - and to avoid the even more commotion it would have caused, zara, spanish retailer and the purchaser of the bag have pulled it before it hit stores.

chances are, the negative connotations of the swastika will be doomed to follow us for years to come.

ironically, the bag is kind of cute.

07.31 reintegration

i just found my old notebook from my trip to india... i wrote this while on my way back to canada... and reading it now just makes me want to go back!!

going to india was like removing the vaccuum seal.

ffffftp!

off it goes... and you breathe. you expand. you feel something in the air.

india touches. it is absorbed.

india... once known, will never leave you.
it's the muslim call to prayer before even the sun wakes
the flash of a woman's eyes as she mentally chastizes you for baring your calves
the smoke billowing from an offering to a god of mythic proportion
the poverty in the streets, the desire to earn a decent living, the need to survive
the constant yearning for something more grand, more meaningful than what you've got

india is like an eternal movement....
all set to a bollywood film soundtrack

you can leave, but india never leaves you.

07.14 clickety-click, marriage trick

ok... so i haven't posted in a long time... but there are reasons...

i work hard and i play hard... and then there is the thing about all the indian weddings to attend. they are 4-5 days long each... mehendi parties, sangeets, chundadi and other ceremonies, the weddings themselves (and it's very common to have two, especially to satisfy both families if it's an interfaith wedding), and receptions... thinking back to december 13th in india (there were 36,000 weddings in dehli that day!!) many of them were arranged.

i have told this to people before (they may still think i'm nuts, but) to me, arranged marriages have a bad rep.

probably because they are confounded with "forced marriages", where parents choose a partner for their child based purely on family connections, caste, class, and social mobility created through the match. the match is usually made before the kids turn 10 years old! when it's time, they get married. no excuses.

conversely, the "arranged marriage" is a lot more civilized: the match uses the same selection criteria but the kids are introduced to each another, spend time together and ultimately get to choose whether to marry each other or to "veto" each other! there is some major pressure there, but who lives without pressure?!

when i tell you i'm ok with arranged marriages, most of you think i'm koo-koo. but to explain: the idea is for the parents to make the best possible connection in terms of security and family ties for the family, for their children and their futures. i understand that. and.... in my personal example, i get along with my parents! i like them. we don't always see eye to eye on everything. but i know, if we lived in a culture where arranged marriages were the norm, given the choice, my parents would choose very well for me.

of course, i say this, hoping they aren't reading this post! at least i hope not!!

check this out! if only it could be this simple!



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06.24 nelly doing lata

this was my favourite song when i was a kid. i'd sing it *everywhere*...
it was a highly popular song by lata mangeshkar (she and asha bhosle are sisters) - just ask any indian person on the planet born after 1970 and they will know it. ok, except for the dunce in the first row in this video.

nelly does it very well, despite mixing up "baanayaa" (created) with "bhulayaa" (forgot) and only knowing the first couple of lines.

lyrics:
kabhii kabhii mere dil mein
khayaal aata hai
ki jaise tujhko banaaya
gaya hai mere liyee

my attempt at rhyming while translating...
sometimes the feeling from my heart
crosses through my mind
that you have been created
to only be mine


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06.03 khadi - the fabric of freedom

eight minute film that is worth every second... slow start but picks up suddenly.



ancient knowledge always amazes me...

05.27 of tiffins & telecoms

here's a lil excerpt from an e-mail to patrick on 01.13:

i got a chance to chat with a lunch delivery man the other day. these guys are incredible - deliver like 10,000 lunches each day. they get all the orders straight too. could you imagine if you had that kinda service in north america?

the tiffin men were incredible. patrick tells me it's their six sigma rating (fast and efficient). they were studied by multinational courier companies, who couldn't replicate their service levels. what's also interesting is their business model. each tiffin delivery man and each tiffin assembly woman is a shareholder in the company. it's in each employee's best interest to be efficient and exact. let's see if ups or fedex can match that.

it's because of cheap labour, and a huge workforce of largely poor and hungry which that india has been catapulting onto the world stage for the past few years in terms of business reach. arrey! national pride is lost to the savings from offshore labour. i once called air "canada" customer service, to get "rose" (aka 'rosina' from india) on the other end... not so canadian after all, eh? even the organization i work for was using a consultant who wanted us to outsource our fundraising calls!! i read in the times in india that two of the world's biggest companies: walmart and airtel (the world's largest telecom company) were signing a partnership.

but this progress comes with downsides and risks.

the economic divide is widening too fast. i was in a downtown mumbai dessert place with abbas one night. they wouldn't let a woman come in because she looked poor... just one of many times i witnessed bad class action. in most circumstances, a paying customer is always welcome. now india's rich (many of whom are not even indian) are getting richer, while the rest are left to their own devices. beggars even have become choosers. they will often pass up food and just ask for money.

what is scarier is the potential risk. the amount of foreign investment in india is at an all-time high. meaning that a large and growing proportion of india's population is reliant on this foreign interest. but how long can this last? it's only a matter of time before india's workforce gets up to market, and when that happens, well all that foreign dough goes out the window and back home. leaving india's workforce in a lurch.

but for now the boom boom is india and india's where it's at.
check out the hindu business line article, in which jayati ghosh reports on the amount of foreign direct investment into india. the numbers speak to india's incredible labour force, from to tiffins to telecomms. oh, did i hear someone say re-colonialism??

05.26 the algoza: two-timing on the flute

i love this because he's not only playing two flutes at once, with different finger positions (we love that!) he's also inhaling and playing at the same time!

consider me "snake" charmed.

05.01 salima's kitchen diary

so i've started 'cooking lessons' with my mom... kinda like wok with yan but it's more like karhai with mum.

i may be a bit biased, but my mom is the greatest cook ever. this is why i have learned everything from grilled cheese to lasagna, but have never studied the art of indian cooking. no matter how well i did any dish, my mother could always do it better. and without instructions.

so on my path to perfection, i've finally decided to learn from the master, mummy-ji! only thing, she's a terrible cooking instructor.

see, my mom does not believe that there are two parts to cooking: gathering/preparation and cooking/assembly. rather, a pot with oil goes on the stove, max heat. the cupboard opens, she calls out the name of an aromatic spice. i locate the appropriate jar. i must measure it from the jar into the palm of my hand, with each of the spices she calls, successively dumping each handful into the pot when they reach the perfect measurement... and regardless of whether it's a few cinnamon sticks or a few fists of jeera powder going in, she always says sweetly each time, "juuuust a peench!". so much for measurements!

spices jam together in the pot, heat still at max, the intoxicating smell filling my nostrils... there are no ingredients on the countertop. i must bring tomatoes and onions from the fridge, dice them in seconds flat and dump them in the pot, before the spices burn.

there is always a time when the cupboard opens, and more "pinches" of the same spices get added to the pot. further confounding any attempt at measurement.

next i'm asked to retrieve veggies from the fridge, wash them and cut them directly over the pot, pronto. "um. mum. should we turn this down?" "no, bettah, it's okay." so again i'm wondering how all this happens without anything burning. but somehow the stuff cooks nicely and tastes great. by the end of it, my notes look like grade 11 algebra class. i need to bring the video cam out to the next class.

so far, i know how to make a killer curried spinach, curried shrimp, and an amazing eggplant curry. i'm so-so with veggie pilau, and want to try my hand at roti.

it also helps to know what the names of things are. sometimes she'll ask me to get "rai" out of the cupboard... and i'll be like, "ok is that mustard seed?"....

i found a pretty decent glossary in mamta's kitchen diary;

a few chosen translations here:

English Hindi
Amaranth (leaves or grain) Chauli, Chaulai, Chavlerr, Chowli, Chowlai
Anise seeds Saunf, Patli
Aniseed (see also saunf) Vilayati saunf
Asafoetida Hing or Heeng
Basil Tulsi
Bay leaf Tej Patta or Tez PattaBetel leaf Pan or Paan
Betel nut Supari/Chali/Chalia
Black Cumin Seeds Kashmiri Jeera, Shahi Jeera, Kala Jeera
Camphor Kapoor or kapur
Caraway Siya jeera
Cardamom Green Choti or green Ilaichi/Ellaichi
Cardamom Large-Brown or Black Illaichi/Elaichi Bari/Badi
Carom seeds Ajwain
Cashew nuts Kaju
Chilli Mirch
Cilantro Dhania
Cinnamon Dalchini or Darchini
Clarified butter Ghee
Clove Lavang
Cobra saffron Nag-kesar
Coconut Nariyal, Copra, Kopra
Coconut oil Narial ka Tael
Coriander leaves Hara dhania
Coriander leaves (English word) Hara Dhania
Coriander, Cilantro Dhania, Kothamalli
Cumin Jeera
Curry Leaves Curry Patta, Meetha Neem, Kari Patta
Dried ginger powder Sonth
Fennel Saunf, Moti (Shatphool or Dodda jeera)
Fenugreek leaves, dry Kasoori methi
Fenugreek Seeds Methi dana
Garlic Lahsun
Ginger Adrak
Ginger Powder Sonth or Saunth
Green cardamom Choti Ilaichi or elaichi
Hemp Bhang
Honey Madhu
Indian ice-cream Kulfi
Indian Wok Karahi
Juice Ras
Lemon Nimbu or Neembu
Lime Nimbu or Neembu
Liquorice Mulahati or Mulethi
Mint Pudina
Mustard seeds Rai or Sarson
Nigella or Onion seeds Kalaunji
Nutmeg Zaiphal
Oil Tel
Onion Pyaz
Poppy seeds Khas khas
Rose Gulab
Safflower Kusam or Kusumbo
Saffron Kesar or Zafran
Saffron Coloured Kesari
Salt Nimak
Sesame Til
Star Anise Anas phal
Sugar Shakkar
Tamarind Imli
Thyme Hasha
Turmeric Haldi or Huldi
Vegetable (generic) Sabzi
White pepper Safed mirch
Wok Kadhai

04.10 badi macchi, the whale shark

i just watched an incredible film called sharkwater last night...

the shark trade is a scary, scary thing. in the film, surrounded by sharks who nuzzle up to him like happy dogs, torontonian rob stewart, director of the film, reveals the shocking reality. only 5 deaths each year are attributed to sharks. ten times that are attributed to elephants. in fact, sharks aren't interested in eating people, they predate dinosaurs. they are docile and highly intelligent creatures possessing more senses than humans do. the oldest living predator on earth, and the most important predator in the sea, sharks are critical to the regulation of plankton, responsible for 70% of the earth's oxygen production.

the scary truth? only 10% of the earth's sharks remain. and they are in danger.

why?

largely due to the chinese delicacy, shark fin soup. i compare the soup to diamonds, a totally fabled luxury. falsely believed to contain healing powers, shark fins (and other parts) sell for a ridiculously inflated price. the soup sells for $200 per bowl, even though the fins have no taste whatsoever. chicken and pork are the flavouring agents. sharks are hunted around the world for their fins, a billion dollar industry, and a deathwish for anyone wanting to make a film exposing it.

i did a bit of digging and found that in india, shark liver oils are being used to preserve boats.

i found this good article about another film made about the shark trade - in india. the article is entitled, of sharks and bigger sharks, about mike pandey's film, shores of silence, nominated for the green oscar at the wildscreen 2000 festival:

The gut-wrenching film documents the slaughter and trade of whale sharks on the Western coast of India. And Mr Pandey is the first Indian film-maker ever to focus on a large marine species. ``The film which was shot under extreme conditions took almost three years to complete and aims towards creating policies to support a ban on the killing and trade of whale sharks in India as well as finding sustainable alternatives for the fishermen,'' says Mr Pandey.

...as a 10-year-old boy he had sailed from Africa to India by ship and throughout the voyage he was mesmerised by huge creatures that swam alongside the ship. ``Now nearly 40 years later, while shooting a film on coastal India in Gujarat, the memory of those creatures urged me to look for them again. I travelled all along the Gujarat coast asking fishermen if they knew of the badi machhi, the whale shark.''

But what Mr Pandey and his crew saw made them shrink in horror. And what started as a feel-good film on these gentle giants would turn out to be a tale of blood and gore. Hundreds of these sea giants are butchered on the shores of Western India every year. There is a great demand for shark meat and fins in South Asia. The oil from their livers is used to waterproof boats. Shaken by the senseless killings, Mr Pandey decided to make a feature film on these creatures. As the crew filmed in the area and met local people, the magnitude of the problem became clear.

Though the prime concern of Mr Pandey and his crew was the conservation of the shark, they saw a different aspect of the dilemma that ran deep into other issues concerning mainly the socio-economic status of fishing communities.

Shores of Silence makes an impassioned plea for the setting up of a whale shark sanctuary. Given the frequent sightings on the Gujarat coast, these waters are of international significance and declaring them as a sanctuary would help protect this vulnerable species. Fishermen could augment their income by doubling up as tourist guides for visitors eager for a shark sighting.

Mr Pandey is in his elements when he talks about what should be done to save whale sharks from perishing at the hands of mankind. Says he, ``The ocean is relatively a new horizon for humanity. Management of marine resources at this point is critical to avoid abusing what mistakenly appears to be a limitless resource zone.'' ``Man,'' he says, ``has interfered with nature's delicate balance. We have ruptured the system and if it continues, we may pay the price with our own extinction.''

copyright © 2001 indian express newspapers (bombay) ltd.

original article here

sharkwater is in theatres now. go watch it.

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03.30 history of the world

sometimes i scour the internet for information about weird things. before i popped a dvd into my laptop, i randomly googled "condensed india history" and came up with A Condensed History of Everything.

876 CE: Some Indian invents the ZERO, making math homework even more difficult and frustrating. At this point in time, Christian Europe is home to the most degraded, least advanced, most backwards-ass civilizations on the planet.

i had no idea an indian invented the zero. or that the zero was that old!

....and now i'm thinking to myself: i never did find the condensed history of india.

03.25 from mississippi masala to new york namesake

i just came from watching mira nair's the namesake.

if her name sounds familiar to you, it should. she is the director of the highly popular films salaam bombay, mississippi masala, and more recently, monsoon wedding.

i had forgotten how visually stunning that film was. tonight was no different. nair blended incredible cinematography with a solid cast, a very realistic - and all too relate-able - storyline, and a brilliant soundtrack courtesy of none other than the man himself, nitin sawhney.

the namesake is the story of a young newly wed indian couple starting life in new york together, having two children who grow up as new yorkers, who in turn learn about their parents' culture as non resident indians. i was drawn into the story of their son gogol (also known as nikhil), who learns so much about his parents after a visit to india and the major life events that follow.

i have to say that the lead female in the film, ashima (played by tabu), was outstanding. she reminded me of my own mother. a certain type of indian woman has this unwavering grace, a type of elegance that transcends time and place. my mom has that same quality and it made me appreciate the film even more.

go see it. trailer:

03.16 books on the brownside... back!

i've been doing some reading and am resurrecting "books on the brownside", a commentary i used to write on indian literature. although i think i only had about three entries...

so here's the fourth!

the latest i've read is arundhati roy's the god of small things - a brilliant novel that takes place in ayemenem, a village in the backwaters close to kottayam and alleppey, where i stayed in kerala over the holidays.

roy is a bit of a genius.

her writing style is very dense, making the reading a bit distracting, but through the story filled with drama, class struggle, sex, murder, and a lot of the local language of kerala, malayam, she is able to provide the reader with historical, social, economic and political context of the area. this was a welcome read as it helped me understand kerala's communist past, the noticeable absence of homeless in alleppey, and the contrasting high suicide and literacy rates (as commented on in god's own country).

it's a classic micro-macro story, where the struggles and stories of three generations of the Ipe family are direct results of the framework of the social structures in which they are forced to live. it describes caste clash mainly through "love laws": who can be loved, and how, and how much.

the thing i didn't like was that roy kept the deep dark secret until the end. but her style and descriptiveness kept me going. it's a tragedy, yet a major comment on feminism and colonialism. india has its own problems, but the solutions have to come from the inside, not from colonialisation, indian self-hatred, and india's ridiculous love and unconditional acceptance of the west.

i totally identified with ammu and rahel, the two central women characters. they refused to accept the oppression that was served to them, and as indian women, acted contrary to society's expectations, of course bringing on the harsh but expected punishments from their oppressors!

after completing the novel, i felt a bit drained and so the geek that i am, i read this great dissertation on the book from the university of utrecht. it explores colonialism, feminism, politics and the literary style of the book. of particular interest were pages 7, 11, 13... despite a few flaws, i highly recommend it. only of course, after reading the book itself.

goes well with keralan tea, nitin sawhney and a long hug afterwards...

four stars
handy dandy study guide

03.01 bollywood dance craze

last night some high school students from lawrence park high put on a benefit for the NGO i work for. it was a dance night called "urban", featuring dance and music from urban centres around the world. among these were nairobi, paris, and yes... mumbai.

the indian act was near the end of the night. my curiosity was piqued when i caught a glimpse of lycra-clad girls with brightly coloured sequins and jingling bells giggling on their way backstage.

well it was a bolly-hit.

500 teenagers and lucky chaperoning parents in the uptown toronto crowd screamed and shouted and moved their bhangra-shoulders to the bolly beat. the girls on stage were even incorporated the indian head wiggle (ihw) at one point! the kids went wild. the parents went wilder. it was an eye opener for me. i had no idea that bollywoood dancing was that popular. it always seemed so cheesy to me: the bollywood dance numbers on saturday morning television hindi films was (is?) as required as a morning chai. i cringe and laugh watching lovers dancing around in the park, raising one eyebrow at one another and coyly hiding their faces with sari silks. [oh, and the 'let's get our faces as close together as we can without actually kissing - the hallmark of the bolly dance sequence]. it was either that or the sound of fake taamashaas (slaps) and punches in the compulsory bolly-brawl scene.

funny enough the bolly dance thing really is a bit of a craze. today i was on BBC and came across this "in pictures" section... it's about bollywood dancing catching on like wildfire in yorkshire, uk. who knew it would get so hot?

01.15 worlds apart

i have neglected my ipod in india.

there were so many fascinating sounds that kept me alert, alive, aware.. i didn't need the ipod. actually i didn't want it.

coming back to toronto was not easy. i should mention that my father, in tarzan style, sprained his knee jumping from a wall a couple of days ago. i know: he's almost sixty; what is he doing jumping. i know. i know. but boys will be boys. so he jumps. sprains his knee and because of an old soccer injury the thing is now the size of my head. seriously.

does he go to a clinic? a doctor? a healer? um. no. would tarzan go to a healer? no. this is the thing about boys. i know they say that women are irrational (they even coined the word "hysterical") , but when it comes to ego, men's ability to think logically evaporates. and they are left with a cantaloupe for a knee, hobbling in and out of cabs to get last minute stuff done...

at the mumbai airport, i order him a wheelchair. he doesn't realise it but that wheelchair man is coming for him. that's his wheelchair. he scowls. looks at me. i grab his camera bag and lead him into the chair by the elbow. once seated, he shrinks to the size of me. i suddenly feel a pang of empathy for him. he's getting old. my mom, on the other hand is radiant.

i order a roomy seat for my father. the flight is long. and delayed. at heathrow, there is no wheelchair ready and we have 1 hour to connect. near-impossible with security checks. somehow, we and our luggage make the connection. once in the plane i finally pull out my ipod and float into sweet oblivion.

reality check comes at toronto pearson international arrivals. it's 1am. after collecting our immense baggages, i head over to my father and his wheelchair attendant is in a heated discussion with her coworker about a third coworker. i hear the words "fuck" and "bitch" and think to myself... so this is what reverse culture shock is all about. after waiting for about a minute while the two gossip like teenagers i ask the woman if i can take my father. her eyes bulge in reaction, as though i grabbed her boob on a packed mumbai train or something.

i smile.

...it is possible to recognize anger in this world, to understand its sources, without getting angered yourself...

still smiling i pull an ipod bud from my pocket and put it in my left ear.
i pat her on the shoulder and with a little indian head wiggle turn toward the exit, "chalo!".

and of course she follows.

01.14 poverty

poverty taught me a lot in india. i have not experienced ultra-poverty first-hand but before leaving for india i heard a lot about it. i was actually afraid of how it would affect me. i was constantly warned about beggars and touts. people complained about them nonstop, saying how they are everywhere, persistent, annoying. bad for your peace of mind.

question: if you were utterly broke, hungry, with only the clothes on your back and no one to turn to, would you ask for help, or would you curl up into a ball and die from pride?

hmmm?

exactly. that's the spirit that makes me love india so much.

a quick word on dukaans...
i've been to indian shopping malls and large westernised department stores. miserable places. nobody cares whether you buy something or not. there are too many staff and if you ask for something, they might pause to look at you. and then continue talking among themselves. juxtapose this with the man whose family depends on what he sells that day. if he sells nothing, his kids go hungry.

i'd support him over a department store. any day.

we should stop judging. people end up in situations. some enter into poverty. so many are born into it. i'm just gonna say this: in india you will get asked for stuff. you may even get tricked. you will use your common sense. buy stuff if you want it. don't buy stuff if you don't want it. look at what's going on around you. but do not complain about how annoying people are because i will have no sympathy for your privileged ass!

try giving away your last rupee to the lady who lives on the sidewalk. it's a great feeling. and it will mean more to her than it does to you.

ok enough rant. check out these kids. we gave them a bag of pakoras and money to buy milk. of course, they kept asking for more:) whether or not they "scored", it really doesn't matter...

01.12 love

pyaar, mohabbat, ishq... all mean the same thing. love.

i was just thinking about the man of my dreams.. and must comment on expressions of love in india.

in pondicherry, over lunch with three friends, vik, hari and patrick, this topic came up. they were annoyed at the "hassles" that single female travellers (sfts) in india inevitably had to deal with. it wasn't obvious any time i was hanging with my parents or inside hotels or going around with drivers. i've been pretty lucky. but there were moments...

tibetan bowl massage, my lady?
i had asked raja, a lousy squat pondi shopkeeper, about some tibetan bowls i saw in his shop... a trained healer, raja decided to "show and tell" me their powers with an impromptu tibetan vibrating bowl massage in the store. cool. at first. but in minutes, good vibrations turned into a pervy groping session à la pepe le pew. just to be clear: he was groping me, not the other way around.

the risky business of mumbai trains...
rather than a nice, neat "grope and run" on the street, today i was full-up fondled in a man-packed mumbai train. i felt fingers mashing up my left boob, and noticed a dude's left hand, which he had snuck across his chest, peeking from behind his right bicep, rubbing me up. sensing the laser rays from my pupils burning a hole in his knuckle, he quickly removed his hand.

excuse me, i say to the guy standing on my left
silence.
EXCUSE ME - my face right in his. everyone is looking at me. silence.
PLEASE LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU. I SAW YOU TOUCHING ME.
his guilty eyes still avoid me. two other dudes claim his innocence: he can't touch you with that bag in his right hand. they continue campaigning after i explain he's got two haath and one was just on me. some old man is now yelling at the dude. bingo. yes. now i get it. sad. but true: this is what women-only sections are for. swelling with anger at this fact, and this guy's cowardice, i finally boom in his ear:
DON'T. TOUCH. ME. i consider snapping his photo right there but suddenly feel sorry for him. probably never seen a girl like me this close up in his life.

wheel you maarrry me?
in india you will get asked for your hand. that's just how it goes. even lovely old aruna from the school for perfect eyesight had been chatting to me all week, and finally asked me my last day whether i was single, would i marry a man in india, and was i ready to get married... but by far the funniest marriage proposal was on the street yesterday in bandra: "maadaam... yoo soo beoootifool, moowie shtaaar! are yoo maaaried? i will like to maaarry yoo!" he skipped alongside me as i walked, telling me he'd do anything i ask, but didn't leave me alone when i asked him to.

it's a bit of a shame, because i write all of this off, but i can see how an sft - especially western women - would get really mad. it's an adjustment coming from a society where people don't even look at each other walking down the street to a place where everyone and everything is out there, on display, and up for grabs. boobs included.

ranjith, a really decent, stand-up guy in pondi had warned me about mumbai. i remember him shaking his head, and telling me how embarrased he was. that this kind of behaviour from some indian men gives all indian men a bad reputation. sadly, he's right.

but that's india for you. wherever you turn, in a park, train, museum, peeking at you like in a bollywood flick from behind a tree, eyes burning through your salwaar, there it is: love...

01.12 floating friday

this evening we saw the floating wonder... the ali haji durga.

the mosque was built in honour of the sufi saint haji ali, a big-time merchant. he had renounced his wealth and material life in favour of his devotion to god and his meditation. the legend says that he died during a pilgrimmage to mecca and that his casket somehow floated back to this shore, at the spot where the durga is today.

the durga includes his tomb and a mosque. the whole complex is built 500 metres from the shore so you have to walk along a narrow path to reach it. today it's fine to cross because it's low tide, but during monsoon season, and high tide the walkway is completely submerged, so the durga appears to be floating away.

01.12 mmm... leafy greens

so i have a slight addiction.


i've been sneaking to the paan-wallas every day (sometimes more than once a day). i only do it when no one's looking... i guess that's a bad sign, huh?

i don't know what it is. they are just so good and so fun to eat. traditionally eaten by high-society, paan are the things that everyone can eat when out at night, after dinner at the paan-wallas. i've tried to give them to friends back in toronto and all have had the same response... they couldn't handle it! some people described it to chewing a mouthful of candied insense. yes it's true, when you eat the stuff you can feel the aroma of it swirling in your mouth and out through your nostrils. very much an acquired taste. they taste the exact same here as they do back in toronto's little india. but back in toronto i didn't have a paan habit.

paan is the indian after dinner mint... it's chewed to give you an aromatic, refreshing taste, to sweeten your mouth and breath. it's made from the betel leaf, onto which the paan-wallah spreads some syruppy lime paste, then covers with coconut shavings, dollops of sweet cherry paste, rose paste and sprinkles with little fennel seeds, anise seeds, tiny little red candies and some other miscellaneous spices and stuff. i love watching as the paan-walla's dextrous fingers wrap the leaf with all this inside into a little triangle and bam! you got paan.

my mouth is watering just thinking about them... and i've already had one today.

the thing that makes paan more illicit is the traditional method - most people have paan with betel nut shavings. some say it's not betel nut but another related seed. both are really hard rock-like things. some, like my great-grandmother, also take their paan with chewing tobacco, which they spit out. actually i think she opted for just the chewing tobacco alone, without the paan! but that dark, lovely, sweet and heavy aroma....mmmmm!

personally i prefer 'virgin' or sweet paan - what is called 'mitha' paan. it's supposed to provide good digestion and clear the blood, the betel nut has been banned back in canada because it's been linked with mouth cancer. i think it's mostly the chewing tobacco that does that, but that's just my guess. i hope a few mitha paan won't kill me!