Abstract Chatter


The randomness that is
March 28, 2016, 12:37 pm
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The aroma of filter coffee and uthapum sprinkled with cashews and coriander on a weekday morning now feels like home.

Globalization is real. American music, movies, and references are inculcated in everything– from India to Thailand.  The beats blasts in every restaurant, club, coffee shop, and rickshaw. With Netflix now streaming almost world-wide, I can’t even begin to imagine the influential force our pop culture will have.

Missing home. Is it weird that I’m in India and still miss World Market? Maybe I need to unsubscribe from their mailing list. In about a month, we’ll be headed back to the US to see family and friends iA. Pretty excited about seeing familiar faces and having some delicious food. What is it about good food that just. centers. you?

Our nanny asked about this sunscreen (not knowing that it was sunscreen), and asked why we have a bottle to kill off all the lizards. IMG_5815

Thinking about Maslow’s hierarchy of needs and how I’m constantly hovering around the top tier. So blessed to have every other need met. Being grateful and counting my blessings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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This winter
January 22, 2016, 1:24 pm
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Chennai, India this winter:

Where the scent of jasmine, incense, and cow dung are equally ubiquitous.

Where women let their hair down in todays 89F January weather.

Where the ever-so-common jasmine gets substituted with marigold.

Where wearing shoes are optional.

Where teaching a toddler animals and the noises they make becomes an easy task because dogs, cats, birds, monkeys, 12615630_10107115021656440_4351940634171016184_oand cows grace our sidewalks and streets.

Where parcel, takeaway, box, and “to-go” can either be understood, or not understood depending upon the tone and accent in which they are said.

Where the smiles are grandeur.

Where pomegranates are rich in hue.

Where samosas are piping hot and lassis are just. right.

Where love is in the air.



Collaborate and Listen
October 27, 2015, 11:58 am
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No idea why this is the tile of my entry– I just can’t seem to get this song out of my head. $1 says you know exactly which song I’m talking about without saying another word.

The support after posting my last blog has been touching. And it’s made me think about all the things to be thankful for. Despite being shafted, I can say that most of my experiences in Chennai have been refreshing. In what other community would people call you over to dinner (twice), while your husband is out of town so you can eat while they watch your baby, or provide you interviewing advice at the drop of a dime, or give you expensive eczema cream to try out, or let you borrow their car while they’re out of the country, or offer to babysit in case our housekeeper doesn’t show up so you can go to an interview, or follow-up to make sure baby E is feeling ok, or invite you out on play dates? The list can truly go on, and it’s only been three months.

12184136_10106801937823950_3078459527845982246_o

Bollywood pole kinda morning

Sure, I needed a moment to vent. Needed a space to validate my emotions. To acknowledge that it’s all part of a natural cycle. Not having a support system or your family around brings about it’s challenges, but I’m forever grateful to have these folks around — making this transition just a little bit easier on us all.

I hope to pay it forward in any way that I know how. Now that I have my bearings (kinda) straight.

“Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful.” –Buddha



Feeling feelings
October 16, 2015, 12:33 pm
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It’s just one of those days. But maybe, I just needed one of these days. Tried on suits for an interview and still haven’t been able to fit into my pre pregnancy clothes. I’m so very far from that goal. Damn you, carrot cake.

Tried to find a new dinner spot, and went the address that was listed online but alas, it was nowhere to be found. Wandering the streets in “full and full” traffic as we breathed in exhaust fuming from the cars and tuk-tuks. With no lunch, all I wanted was a nice dinner. And to find the place easily. It’s days like these I wish I could communicate with people. To ask for directions, to ask for the nearest known addres12140085_10106764575997350_4217371576734353640_os so we could make our way to the restaurant. None of this happened so we wandered into one of our usual spots. I had a crappy salad with (bone-in) chicken. It was my first salad here, and all I could think about was who this chef was that decided to make a salad with bone-in chicken… I miss a good, fresh salad.

And just feeling defeated as you see everyone else around you adjusting well. With their permeant cars, drivers, cooks, and nannies. I hope someone comes along to help me take good care of my sweet baby E. Whoever it is, will feel so loved. Because that baby can love.

Three months into our life here in Chennai, and I feel like such a downer. But, maybe three months in, this is where I am meant to be. Looking forward to the higher parts of this roller coaster.



Sitting here with nothing but my thoughts
October 1, 2015, 10:34 am
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Roads of Chennai

Roads of Chennai

Our long weekend is here. It’s Gandhi’s birthday on October 2nd. A champion of nonviolent civil disobedience.

It was interesting to read the following excerpt from Gandhi, A Spiritual Journey: 

There is no such thing as “Gandhism”, and I do not want to leave any sect after me. I do not claim to have originated any new principle or doctrine. I have simply tried in my own way to apply the eternal truths to our daily life and problems…The opinions I have formed and the conclusions I have arrived at are not final. I may change them tomorrow. I have nothing new to teach the world. Truth and nonviolence are as old as the hills.

I would typically be more excited but husband is away gallivanting through the streets of India. So here I am with Edris for a few days. I’ve fed him, gave him his milk, played “Goodnight Moon” and put him down to bed. That was an hour an half ago. So here I am just sitting down with my thoughts, scrolling through Facebook, reading random titles of random articles on twitter acting like by reading a title, I’ve become an expert on the subject.

The "pushing rickshaw with your foot" is a thing!

The “pushing rickshaw with your foot” is a thing!

Today, I saw a rickshaw driving pushing another rickshaw driver with his foot. Let me see if I can help to visualize this. Imagine two rickshaws – one almost in front of the other. I say almost because there are no lanes, so you tend to be more perpendicular than straight due to all the traffic. The rickshaw driver in the back was using his leg, that’s right– his leg, to push the rickshaw in front. I imagine this went on for a while. It was kind of brilliant. There’s so much more force in this method than trying to push it with your hands by foot.

How privileged am I to be feeling hopeless as I read the stories of refugees in Europe and elsewhere. …sharing pages on Facebook, praying for them from a distance, reading their stories and tearing… With any privilege comes obligation, and I don’t think I’ve met mine.