Prismatic Life

Someone recently asked me what my experience of Durga Pujo is in this country. Which made me want to compare it to my memory of it when I lived in India. Memory is a funny thing. My brain searches it's many nooks and crannies and brings up events that sometimes seem to be from somebody else's life.

I realized that not all of my Pujo memories were happy ones and that some of the negative memories influence my relationship to this season, even today.

The happy memories have to do with food and family and anticipation that this Pujo will be different from previous years. For many years we went to the only Pujo in Bangalore for many years. There are now 15. I got to wear a new outfit for every morning and every evening of the Pujo I went to. By the end of it I had 8 new outfits!

The afternoon bhog (lunch) was a ritual that we all looked forward to, even though it meant standing in line and pushing with crowds to find a seats together. Community folks served up khichuri, tarkari, chatney and mishti from buckets onto sal patta plates. My mom very thoughtfully brought spoons for us so we could sift through the piping hot food though we always ate with our hands. On Dashami it was dinner of dal, pulao and aloor dum that brought the food extravaganza to a grand close. But everyday also brought a steady stream of Bengali snacks--singara, chop and luchi ar cholar dal.

As a child I also looked forward to the one day a year that I was allowed to stay up the whole night. On the night of Nabami, jatra (epic plays) started at 10 pm and was followed by a Bengali movie that went on to the wee hours of the morning. And on at least one Pujo day, the family ritual was to watch the latest Bollywood formula picture.

It was all wonderful but everyday I dreaded going to Pujo. I didn't know a lot of kids there. None of my friends from school were Bengali and I was a shy child. And it was at Pujo, I realize now, that I was first exposed to the ideas of caste and class. There were children (and adults) who were special and I was not one of them. They wore different clothes, hung out with each other in their cliques. They were perfect little cultured Bengali kids who could recite kobita and Tagore and dance like Anonda Shonkar's dance troupe even at that young age and were part of the "in" crowd. Even though I was generally a reasonably well adjusted child at school, I was never comfortable amidst the people I was supposed to have the most in common with.

And Pujo today brings back those memories. In a lot of ways it's not a big deal, Pujo comes only once a year and I have moved on to find Bengalis that I like (I married one!). The situation strikes me though as one that faces Diaspora communities. In Kolkata, Pujo seems like it is for everyone and there are enough people among one's family and friends that one can find one's place in it or hover from one to another or choose to stay invisible. But here (as was the case in Bangalore), we are all thrown together asked to get along because it appears that we all come from the same place. However far you travel and try to bury the roots that you don't want holding you down, these are dug up quickly in places where your last name and where your house is in Kolkata can betray everything about you.

That being said, like a true Bengali, the promise of good food has always helped me overcome these other issues!

December is a tough month.I am always overwhelmed by the fact that another year has passed.

It is colder on my bike--my ears ached in the chilly breeze this morning. I hardly ever ride my bike back anymore--it seems too dark and cold. It is flu season and everyone around me seems sick and it feels like I am always on the verge. To make matters worse, I have to study for the exam--if I can pass it this time, the torture will end. And it becomes really difficult to take great pictures in the gloom of winter.

It is also when I get to go home, to India--yes I live in Berkeley now, that is home. But somehow the annual pigrimage to the motherland always seems like a homecoming. And it always feels too short, too rushed, too quick, too happy and suddenly too sad--when I have to leave.

Until I get back into the full swing of things...I wanted to share photos from our trip to Portland, 4th of July weekend. I have always wanted to go and A did not need convincing since it is the home of Powells bookstore! We had a wonderful time. It was beautiful and sunny. And we went everywhere on public transit and walked A LOT

We walked throught the park blocks, saw all of Halprin's fountains. It was so great to see people come there--adults and kids alike, in their swimsuits, ready to splash around. The Keller was popular, the Lovejoy not so much. We didn't have time to also go the newly revitalized Pearl district. That will have to be another trip.

Looking on, originally uploaded by barnali.

We did go to the Saturday market, which was interesting. The weird thing though was that they had a performance stage there with a couple of kids performing--singing and dancing. And I thought, oh how nice, local programming for the market. Except, it turns out that it was sponsored by Disney radio and all the songs were from Disney movies and sung like Disney characters. It felt really commercial and cheap and exploitative. There was no escape from it and the sounds pervaded the whole atmosphere of the market.

But to end on a high note, one of the best things we did was meet up with one of A's friends who had just moved back to Portland. It's true the locals know the best places! My favorite was this wonderful street intersection he took us to. This was a thing I am sure you would appreciate even if you are not one of us landscape architects.

And there is more--see photos of this wonderful street instersection, the topography of a beaver, plants growing in a toaster, an old fashioned barbershop after hours, a Rumi bike rack.....

So in the past month, I have actually had people asking about my blog. And I know A really wants me to write. And I do too. So here I am. It hasn't been quite a year since I stopped blogging but it is never to early ;) to start again.

I could muse further about how putting yourself out there can be really tiring but it can be healing too. In some ways it is a body of work that I often go back to and say--"wow, did I say that?" or "oh my god, did I say that?"

I hope, you, my dear friends will find time in your busy lifes to indulge me and my thoughts....

It was a dark night. And usually, the route I take on my way back home from work is silent and deserted. But tonight was different, it was Halloween. There was a buzz in the air. Around me there was the scamper of little feet, of vampires and ghosts, of bunnies and cats and princesses and knights. The buzz was the sound of children, out on the streets, looking totally adorable and scampering around tricking and treating. And there were adults out there too.

That night, it seemed as if Pied Piper had had a change of heart and brought the children back to their homes and the sound and sights of those young years was in the air again.
*sigh*

Spark a show about the bay area arts scene is one of my favorite shows on T.V. I don't always catch it but when I do I always learn so much and often discover new things. This time, it was these doilies that caught my eye. I didn't really know what doilies are and in case you are wondering too, a doily is a a small ornamental mat, usually of lace or linen.

Laura Splan's doily designs though take this very domestic item to a whole another level. Her designs are all based on the structure of various viruses. The first image is of the Herpes Virus, next to it, the dreaded HIV and then the common cold or influenza virus and the last one the once infamous SARS virus.

I am not quite sure I can explain in words why I like them. I think that the beauty of the result coupled with the subversiveness of the inspiration just appeals to me. The art has an innocent side but on closer inspection and education about it reveals a darker side.

Her other work also has similar qualities. She make pillows cases with blown up images of human skin, paints traditional looking wall paper designs with her blood (you need very little blood to do this) and creates interactive digital artshowcasing scars. Some of it might make one queasy but for me it is about acceptance of the human body, flaws and all and its abs
traction and elevation into art.

Last month my blog got a ton of comments, which should have made me happy, except that they were all spam-- deep spam. If you missed seeing them, below are a couple reproduced for your and my amusement. What did I do to deserve this?!

"emistry.com As we shall see, the concept of time has no meaning before the beginning of the universe. This was first pointed out by St. Augustine. When asked: What did God do before he created the universe? Augustine didn't reply: He was preparing Hell for people who asked such questions. Instead, he said that time was a property of the universe that God created, and that time did not exist before the beginning of the universe."

"emistry.com I should think it is possible for reason to partially subvert faith; this would happen if, for example, there were a really good argument from premises evident to reason for the denial of something central to faith. That is what people who urge anti-theistic arguments - the argument from evil, for example - are trying to come up with"

"emistry.com The State is not 'abolished', it withers away."

Sept 3rd-5th: Off to Mammoth Lakes. I can't wait to be in the gorgeous outdoors. And to spend time with Miles, Krisztina, Bryant and K's family. Thanks K for inviting us!

Sept 3rd: One year Wedding Anniversary (anniversary of our civil ceremony). Yeah! It has been a blast so far. I love you A.

Sept 3rd: Mukundan is ONE year old!!! He was a cutie the last time I saw him. We can't make his big birthday celebration but we hope see him soon. I love that we share our wedding date with him.

Sept 5th: Teachers' Day

Sept 5th: Also the last day to donate to Work an Hour.

Sept 5th: Labor Day. Holiday. Yeah!!

I have dance class in the City these days. I usually carpool but this last Sunday, I ended up taking public transportation--BART and then the 38 bus. The 38 bus is the most excrutiating bus ever--stopping at almost every block. On the way back, as the bus trudged along, it caused my mind to wander, aided by my stomach, which had only seen a banana that morning.

I called A to see if maybe he was interested in Thai brunch at the Thai Buddhist Temple in Berkeley. I could see myself probably geting there by 12.30, which would not be too late. But A was too caught up in cleaning the home and wasn't sure that he would be able to make it. Hmm..maybe I should go by myself. That red beef curry and and the taro root fritters are so yummy. But then should I get off at Ashby and then get on BART again so I could get my bike at Downtown Berkeley? I guess I could get off at Downtown and ride my bike to the temple. But I wanted food sooner and having gotten food wanted to be home soon too.

Let's see maybe there are other places that are closer. I could get off the bus at Embarcadero and go to that deli across from the Hyatt that has the yummy falafel and shawarma. The food there was really delicious and cheap when we had stopped there with my parents after going to the Zakhir/ Sachdev concert in the City.

But then there was also Tu Lan. Should I walk over there? But I go there more often then other places, so may be not this time then.

So if I wanted Mediterranean food and wanted to get home quickly, I could go to Truly Mediterranean. It would be on my way home and I could even eat while walking my bike. But A thinks their food is overpriced and not that tasty. It would be worth going in to see their new cool mural though.

I guess I could go to Bongo burger. I have been dying to try their lamb kebab burger.

Or I could go to Top Dog next door and get a cheap fast hot dog that I could also eat on my way home.

If a buger is what I want, then maybe I should go to Oscars. It would be on the way. But then it would be messy and I would have to wait until I got home to eat it.

Hmm...Hello Croissant was also on the way. I have never tried their lunch, maybe I could pick up a piece of lasagna. But I didn't really want lasagna.

I could get my meat and have it too if I went to Gregoire. Their lunch sandwiches are so yummy and more reasonably priced than dinner. But that would mean adding in some waiting time.

I almost get off at Ashby BART. But a friend's message saying that he is going to Viks make me rethink that. I get off at downtown, call the friend, get a voice mail. So I dump the Viks idea.

I almost cross the street to go over to Bongo Burger but turn back halfway.

I am also craving spicy Indian food. So I decide to hold my craving until later that day. A and I are going to a concert at I-house. Maybe I can convince him to go to Nan and Curry after.

I get on my bike and ride home.

p.s We don't end up going to the concert, so no Nan and Curry for me! But aren't I lucky to live in a place that has so many kinds of food in thought's reach?!

I have always loved chocolate and been suspicious of people who don't.

Scharffen Berger was my first heavenly introduction to REAL chocolate--more chocolate, upto 82% chocolate and less other stuff.

When I took their factory tour I was amazed by the chocolate dust on the overhead ducts. That was also the day I discovered their chocolate sauce. My vocal love for it prompted people at work to give 6 bottles of it as a wedding present!!

Today I find out that Hersheys is all set to swallow our local Dark-Chocolate Maker. I have found other chocolate that makes me HAPPY but still no subsitute for the chocolate sauce. SB will always have a special place in my heart for opening up the world of good chocolate to me.

This news has spurred quite a discussion on Chowhound including tips for where to get the best chocolate. Enlightening and comforting.