When Giri becomes Gary !!!

Recently, I came across an advertisement for a position with a very anglicized name. The requirement was a perfect match, so I called the said person and I was sure I had reached a wrong number because the person at the other hand sounded very South Asian. Talking to the person, I realized that the job was for a very South Asian multinational company.

I have nothing about any South Asian company or person as I am one of them, but to have to change one's name so that it can be accepted by whomever they want to impress is not good. I am not sure, why they think themselves to be unacceptable. It is understandable that most people will not answer a call / mail from a person that does not seem familiar. But, to change one's name is not in good taste. Now, if someone does answer that email and realize that they are not what they are, will it not affect their reputation much more than being truthful.

I am sure, most people will really appreciate anyone who is confident in himself/ herself in their own skin.All you need is to be a hard working human being. Worse case scenario, the first call may well go to the voice mail of the person you are trying to reach but, if you are persistent in your efforts and state your case confidently and sincerely, your language, your name , your religion will all fade away and you might even make a headway.

So, Giri please go back to being Giri rather than Gary. Your accent and your insecurities will give you away and you definitely will have a candidate who is as good as you in concealing his identity and his qualifications . Good Luck!!

All the World's a Stage

All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. William Shakespeare

Qui sera sera

I wonder how some people get all the support and understanding in the world.Even when they are well past their prime, what they say and do seems to have support.Sometimes they act so immaturely, yet people find excuses to support them.

On the other hand are people who have never been supported - all their lives and it continues well past middle age.Family members may sometimes questions how one can live a life and not raise their voices against oppression. But, it is these same people who oppress you. Bullies that oppress require the gift of gab--a way to manipulate a situation to their convenience. These people use the choicest words to subdue the victim. You see, they know the victim inside and out and can feel the weakest point to hit."Freedom is the right to live as we wish" was the quote for the day! I wonder how many people enjoy such a freedom

Qui sera sera- whatever will be will be

In Memoriam

Today marks the one year anniversary of my uncle's death according to the Tamil calendar.It took me a year for the news to sink in.To me, he will always be the most handsome man who loved his wife dearly, sitting in his chair;quiet, observing the world -an armchair councillor.He died without changing the world.But,he changed me.

He was a great human being,with a very sensitive side to him that nobody saw. He craved company, attention, acceptance which he never got till the end.All the expectations left him bitter and pessimistic.To me, he seemed like a lion ,chained and caged.Unable to do anything with all the natural tendencies he is born with.All his aggression controlled and not allowed to break free. He died and he took with him all his desires and hopes-unable to express, unsure of whom to trust,unaccepted.

Human beings are so fragile with " chinna chinna aasai"... small things make them happy....a hug, a genuine smile, a heartfelt word, a feeling of being wanted, accepted,clicked a photo with. Yet there are these same humans who refuse to pass on what they have themselves.

Mr. T.G.S was just like that, he wanted people to talk to him , listen to him- his advice, he always wanted to protect me,teach me, wanted to be invited to events and accorded the respect, elders in a family get in most Indian weddings .

Although man is born alone in this world he is always born into relationships and is always known by his relationships and one should expect that he would love to contribute to those relationships.But, if you just treat him as a relation but yank all the contributions,( especially to a person like T.G.S who did not have children of his own,nor many nieces and nephews and also being the youngest in his family of two brothers...) he must have died a thousand deaths- wanting to share the wealth of knowledge he must have had ,but being forced to keep quiet as there was no body to listen to him.

Athimbs, I know you and I have seen you in your most vulnerable state.You have changed me so much that I am constantly alert to others emotions.I wish that my prayers affect the circumstances of your next birth so that you may live your life to the fullest, and enjoy every moment of it.

Memories

It was just an ordinary day. Sending the kids off to school..I lit some incense as part of my daily prayers and that was when my day changed. The fragrance of the incense reminded me of my summers in Madras,the prayer room, my happy carefree days of just doing nothing,the whole house full of cousins running around in their own world.The old cook who made delicious food hour after hour for such a huge family. The maid who cleaned all the dirty dishes. The white shirts,the revving of the numerous scooters, the clickety click of the typewriter,the spiral staircase, the tiptoe past the office..My mind was now running ahead with images and memories and Raja's songs didn't help. Each year, a new hit, a new cousin and dancing and songs for the newest member of the clan.Life moved on from those idyllic summers to marriage and kids. All the old memories seem to have just crumbled and crashed. Cousins don't talk and aunts don't talk. The very basis on how I had built my life seem to have been pulled off from under my feet.I felt alone in a new world which was more hostile. Learnt about how all along everything had been a farce , while I was a fool living in an imaginary dream world. My dream had burst and I was searching for my mom.
Smell,what a powerful emotional stimulant.My kids are making their own memories and I truly hope that theirs is much more solid and strong.I pray that their dreams become reality, and they can share it with their parents!!!

Jai Ho?

I have not watched Slum Dog Millionaire, but what I have heard of the movie, I learnt that a negative side of India was shown. It might be reality, but when it is shown to International markets, reality takes a different meaning. Just as murders and violence are a part of every nation what people see or hear is what people think.

Let me make it clear, if someone had seen the New England winters, in their mind it is always Winter when you talk about New England. They are not aware of the beautiful Fall , the eyecatching leaf colors,nor are they alert to the coming of the much awaited Spring , the reddening of the Maple trees, the spurt of green leaves. It is only in New England that you see and differentiate the four seasons. But what if the avalanches,or only the observatory atop Mount Washington was shown to people around the world, people will definitely wonder how humans can live in such areas.

Most of the Indian movies have not done justice to India-from Bond's Octopussy to Slum Dog Millionaire. I have been asked so may wierd questions about India :How can you speak English so fluently is the most frequent question asked of me and in the few minutes that I get to speak to them , it is very difficult to explain that English is used in almost all officialspeak even though Hindi is the National Language.
Most often someone would have told them of a custom and I get asked if it is true--India has so many States and languages that the customs of one person may not necessarily be that of everyone else.
Someone recently asked me if wild animals roamed the streets of India.I have also been asked if there were departmental shops in India- wow!! what a picture to carry of India and it is extremely difficult for me to explain that we were as civilised as the rest of the world- that we have supermarkets and fashion houses,highrises and bungalows, beaches and lakes, gardens and zoos where the wild animals are securely locked up, we are educated and an extremely capable nation. One of the oldest Democracies in the world she lost a lot of important discoveries to the countless invaders that looted her.

India cannot be expained in a paragraph , she must be experienced. She is rich and unique from the Himalayas to Kanya kumari . From the Arabian sea to the Bay of Bengal.Every where you go, you will fnd the culture, language, the dress, the people, the food, the climate different .I still cannot say I know India because of her vastness.

But, all of my rants and ravings about her being denigrated by thoughtless movie makers out for a few bucks are just that - rants 'cos she was there centuries before me and will continue to be there centuries after me. I did not make her, she made me and she knows how to take care of herself, 'cos she has survived for so long....

History Is Made

Tuesday, January 20th 2009, history was made in the United States of America. Barack Obama, an African- American became America's 44th President.I watched him speak publicly the first time in Boston for the Democratic convention in 2004 .It feels like watching your own rise up the ranks.Tears were welling up my eyes as I watched the inauguration.The euphoria among people, the HOPE... hope of a better tomorow. It was humbling to see and hear people hanging on to hope. Hope that someday something good will happen to them, to think about so many people who might have struggled to see a day like that. What were their thoughts when they died? Were they worried for their sons and daughters?How could so many generations live on hope. I had goosebumps when President Obama watched the parade of the American service men. What a turn around from the days of the segregation, to be saluted .

Just like the generations of Red Sox fans who wished and prayed for a win for 86 years. A win in a baseball game you say, but unless you are a New Englander, you don't understand. I have even seen obits promising a Red Sox win.Hope that the dead will somehow influence a win from the "other world". I am not even a native, but it does rub off on you as well.

Hope is what keeps us all alive. Hope for a better future,hope for a house, hopes for your children ,hope....a small four letter word but one that helps us move forward.

And then you pass on ..... but you leave behind Hope for the next generations.