Getting plugged back in

Having spent the last month on call and squashing in  preparation for dreary exams where possible, it’s been admittedly hard to keep up what’s happened in the world.

Though it’s possible to generalize the experience and not be too off the mark, right?

-Political upheaval somewhere.

-An accident– tragic in it’s preventability or because of the number of lives claimed (I know, even one life is tragic…but you can’t deny numbers are always quoted).

-A celebrity doing something infamous or getting bashed. Or dying.

-An act of terrorism.

-Something that’s just been proved to be good for your health. Or bad.

It was still worthwhile to look through though. And while finding items under the above categories might be discouraging, the added randomness of what people do adds an element of hope to this thing called life.

Here are a bunch of articles on the New York Times website that caught my eye this morning.

The Legacy of 18 days in Tahrir square

  Even in my isolated state it was hard not to be aware of what was happening in Egypt.  TV images were hard to escape. The fuss made over American journalists being roughed up by protestors. Scenes of battles between the protestors and pro-Mubarak forces. And the eventual stepping down of Hosni Mubarak after 30 years of repression.

 What’s interesting is how this seems to have sparked off protests in other parts of the Arab world. 

 Pearl Roundabout, in Manama, saw Bahrainis adopt their own version of the uprising in Tahrir square. The Bahraini army opened fire at protestors of the  regimen under King Hamad. And the army withdrew. Only to be replaced by riot police who also fired at protestors?

 More recently the uprising in Libya that  Gaddafi’s trying to stamp out.  And again in Tripoli the army opened fire on civilian protestors.

Now, maybe I missed it but this didn’t happen in Egypt did it?

Even in China, winds of change seem to blow….with calls over various media routes to a ‘Jasmine Revolution’ and the anticipatory ‘amp’ed up police presence.

 Anyone else thinking of phrases like ‘the domino effect’ and ‘change begets change’? And perhaps a moment to think about how precious freedom really is.

  And now I’m going to move on before wondering what freedom really means. But perhaps it’s worth discussing later seeing as people are prepared to lay down their lives for it. And the question whether we really do live in freedom? Later.

The Siren Song of the Bath Toy

 Now this is joyously random. Or at least it seems random to me.  

A former teacher turned writer, Donovan Hohn, wrote a book inspired by the ‘Duck Armada’ fable. Apparently in 1992, a container ship sailing south of the Aleutians lost part of its cargo as it took a roll in the seas. 

The lost cargo being 7200 packs of bathtub toys. 

Each pack including a yellow rubber duck.

His book being titled ‘Moby-Duck’. 

I love it. How can you not?! 

His research for the book has taken him to Alaska where beachcombers have for more than fifteen years raked in the rubber duckies that floated ashore, to Hawaii to visit a floating garbage patch and to the Pearl River Delta in China where the lost toys were originally made under the name ‘Floatees’.

 I don’t know for sure but I think I’m going to read that book.  If for nothing else because I haven’t yet read Moby Dick and this sounds less onerous.

Perry Moore, Author of Book About Gay Super hero, Dies at 39

  Mr.Moore, apart from feeling strongly about the need for positive portrayal of gay superheroes also was the executive producer of all three Narnia movies that have come out so far. 

He was found unconscious in his apartment in Greenwich Village. 

“But Mr.Moore, who was gay, had a more personal mission; although he was glad that comic books had been introducing gay superheroes for some time, he wanted to see them in a better light.”

He wrote a book called “Hero” about a gay superhero called Thom Creed.

Portrait of Spy Agency leaves Much in Shadow

 James Hart Dyke was commissioned to spend a year following and sketching M16 agents in the field.  The United Kingdom’s M16, also known as the Secret Intelligence Services recently observed centenary celebrations in 2009 as the ‘western world’s longest continuously operational intelligence’. 

Are you thinking what I’m thinking?  Is there one that’s run for longer in the non-Western world?? Or am I being tangential again. 

Anyway, his work apparently still manages to preserve secrecy and anonymity while portraying M16 agents at work. 

The paintings sport titles such as “Spy passes by” , “Agent giving information to SIS officer”, “Being followed.Africa.” “Ice Breaker”. 

The painting that seemed to be a favorite at his exhibition is called “Waiting in the Hotel Room” and depicts an agent lingering tensely at the hotel room window. 

 I find it exciting….but then I want to be a secret agent. Yeah, I said it. Does it mean I can’t be one anymore?

Warm Nights, Cold Noses

 OK, I love this article and submit it for consideration to those concerned as proof that I should have a dog. Or a pig.

 A study by the CDC approximated that between 14-62% (?) of the 165 million dogs and cats in the United States sleep in beds with humans. The physical contact with “an unconditionally loving animal is an emotional balm”. Anyone else ready to fess up to feeling destroyed at the scene in I am Legend when the dog died in Will Smith’s arms? Or when Marley died? OK, tangential…I get it.

 Anyway, apparently it isn’t just limited to dogs or cats. The article talks about a lady artist, Kathy Ruttenberg who sleeps with Trixie, her 16 pound Vietnamese pot-bellied pig.  It is said that Trixie is a ‘great cuddler’ if one lies still. However, it must also be said Ms. Ruttenberg has black and blue marks on her body. No doubt to attest to reprieves from Trixie’s sharp hooves, for the times she does not lie still.

 So maybe I won’t get a pig.

Though a teensy 16 pound pig…doesn’t that pull at your heart strings just a little bit? I don't know...I just loved Piglet the best. Or was it Eyore?

But I can understand the logic behind all of this. For the 6 years I lived in Bangalore my dog Pepe always slept in my bed. And it was the most comforting thing ever. Four years later and I still haven’t gotten used to him not being around. And I miss it…even the times I woke up dreaming I was drowning just to find his lip flap covering my nose.  Or the times he jumped on my stomach in an attempt fuelled by unrestrained joy to find out who was at the  door.

  I respectfully reassert that I need another dog. 

There are more but I’m tired of writing. Gasp. Yes, I’m a wimpy blogger. 

I guess what I want to say is, sure, sometimes we know what we’re going to find in the news. Different places and people fitting into the same general ‘slots’ of news.  But don’t tell me it isn’t possible to find hope in these stories. Because if you don’t, you miss what these people are doing. There’s sadness for sure in some of these stories. But there’s also a hint at the uncontrollable, irrepressible force of life.  That’s reason for hope is it not?

 

Making the most of it

We thought we were going to spared a harsh winter because there wasn't sign of snow till Christmas and I almost missed it.
 Starting after Christmas weekend we've been getting one snow storm after the other. I think using the word 'pummeled' would be apt. Being in a job that needs you to get into work inspite of the weather doesn't help!
 However, it is pretty inspite of the inconvenience and when you look at the pictures while you're warm.

On the way from the gym to the cafe

BlueBack Square

A tree encased in ice

The same tree

Snowy parking lot

View from my window during one of the first storms

View from the hospital

Pattern on my windshield from freezing rain

Snow swirling around a street light

After trudging through the snow to my door

 So, it's pretty in its own way isn't it? 

Il dolce far niente....

I confess. I’m going to muse based on a movie line. Not from an original thought. Not even from a book that I’m reading. From a movie. So, recently I watched Eat Pray Love.  I didn’t even read the book!

The movie wasn’t great but it was nice because it allowed me to transport myself to warmer, friendlier-feeling locales. My favorite bit of the movie was the part in Italy… colorful language enhanced with ‘gesti’ , meals savoured slowly and with friends and il dolce far niente..the sweetness of doing nothing. I don’t think it literally or at least not always pertains to doing nothing. I believe, and I hope I’m right, its about not getting swept away without paying attention to what’s sweet in life. To know how to live.

  

The question being….can you savor ‘il dolce far niente’ wherever you are or do you have to live somewhere which allows you to do so? That I honestly don’t know yet. 

Interesting experiences in a normal week

1. I was introduced to the term ‘magnificent monotony’.

I have so much to say about ‘The ‘Ragamuffin Gospel’ but it’s going to have to wait till I’ve highlighted things, scribbled on it and then thought about it in total. It’s an odd book to read while doing cardio at the gym but it’s the only time I stay in one place these days. The problem, though, is so often the sentences or truths in it are so powerful that it literally stops me in my tracks. Result: Almost getting thrown off a treadmill or falling off an elliptical machine! No injuries so far though.  Anyway, the second chapter is about the ‘magnificent monotony’ of God’s love for you. Unchangeable, immovable love, that you can’t jeopardize or lessen because of your actions or failings.  And in this case the sheer monotony of this love is anything but boring.

2. I was challenged to reach out to new people by my friend Joel.

 Joel is one of the Lagans. The Lagans deserve a separate blog. For now, they’re an extraordinary family that ‘adopted’ me into their midst two years ago when I was at the lonely beginning of this New England sojourn!  Joel has the most amazing ability to walk up to absolute strangers and become friends with them in a matter of minutes (it’s how he became friends with me). This is a huge thing, especially in New England where its people are often as frosty as their climate (it’s a generalization I know but there is some truth in it).  Funnily enough I find myself starting to exhibit this trait of guardedness that I found so distasteful at the beginning. Yesterday, I met up with Joel and he introduced me to a new friend he had made while walking beside him on the sidewalk. The friend was a young man from Kenya of Indian descent. We had an interesting conversation. Interestingly the guy did admit that he initially wondered if Joel was on drugs or had an angle. Because that’s how unusual it is for someone to come up to you and make friendly conversation here. And I walked away yesterday wishing I could do the same. So I said hello to a stranger at the coffee shop today. It wasn’t the smoothest  conversation but it was something. And hey, I’ll get better at it.

3. I just noticed I’ve started making funny faces at myself at the gym.

I joined the gym (NYSC at Blue Back Square in West Hartford), a little over a year ago. It was prompted by my trip to Uganda, where starchy foods served by a matronly German woman resulted in a considerably ‘well-fed’ appearance.

 I found it funny when the denizens of NYSC would ‘regard’ themselves in the mirror. I loved that I could practice somersaults on the exercise mats and no one even spared me a glance. Everyone was just so involved in looking at themselves. Even if they were just walking to the water fountain.  I smirked inwardly.

  I’ve lost some weight though over the last year and while it literally is nothing to write home about I think I’ve also toned up a fair amount. So it was with some chagrin I realized I was doing the perfunctory water fountain walk between sets and  checking myself out in the mirror. Plus I’ve taken to wearing sleeveless T’s like the vast majority. Sigh. Burn. Hence the public confession.

4. Today I saw a little champ dance it out during worship at church.

 I go to church so infrequently. For a variety of reasons. The crazy hours and schedule of residency. When I do go the experience is so novel and exciting. And moving. And simple truths seem ground breaking and distantly remembered. That I realize may not entirely be a good thing. But we had worship at the beginning of service today… as usual. And this li’l guy, 6 or 7 years old, was just clapping his hands and dancing with complete abandon. It was glorious!

5.  I remembered people at different places in the world can see the same moon.

 There was a full moon yesterday, which was beautiful and I remarked about it while crossing the street in West Hartford with friends yesterday. I didn’t exactly get an enthusiastic response though.  But I stared on, mesmerized by how beautiful it was. Caleb Lagan, out in Simsbury, made a Facebook comment saying that he was outside his house watching the moon through the night. To which Tina, my shona, in India commented saying she had seen the same lovely moon earlier that day when it was night in India. Now I knew this….that it’s the same wherever you are in the world…but I had forgotten it. And it was nice to realize I looked at the same beautiful moon as my sweetheart two oceans away!

6. I bought a new coat from J Crew.  

I love it! However, I look like the Michellin Man in it. It’s functional and not really pro-fashion but it’s so comfortable. It’s my attempt to stave off winter’s numbing effect. It’s like walking around in a duvet!

I love this jacket! You just want to hug yourself!

Tell me these gloves are not cool?!

Also I insist on wearing these neat gloves I bought from Cusco in September all the time. My friends think I look like a dork. I think they’re cool! My fingers are free so while my hands are warm, I can actually do things like write…or use a key!

7. I did a one arm Aú at capoeira this Saturday!

 The Aú is one of the central moves in capoeira and is like a  cartwheel. Like a cartwheel. Not a cartwheel. Like one.  And before I started capoeira, the concept of cartwheels, somersaults, backflips, walking on my hands were so completely foreign to me  But I’m learning to do them! The one arm Aú is a variation where just one hand makes contact with the ground. I couldn’t do it a couple of months ago and hadn’t tried again till this Saturday and I could. Isn’t that an awesome feeling when you can suddenly do something you couldn’t?!

8. I have officially been named Godfather of Aarti Elizabeth Thejus.

 I called my friends Bobby and Numa over the weekend and heard little Aarti cooing in the background. I was pretty set that I would be Fantastic Uncle John that she could come and hang out with to get away from Bobby going on about Chesterton or Lewis (though I love Lewis myself) or Amartya Sen. I’d be the cool one from our generation. Bobby asked me if I would be Aarti’s godfather. So I have to trade in Fantastic Uncle John for Venerable Godfather John. Drat…now I have to be wise.

The Ragamuffin Gospel

I picked up this book as part of Barnes and Noble’s  “Buy 2, Get the 3^rd FREE” gimmick.

The message of outrageous grace and unconditional acceptance is breaking the hardness of my heart.

 I anticipate referring to this book a lot but for now…the foreword by Brennan Manning:

The Ragamuffin Gospel was written with a specific reading audience in mind.

This book is not for the superspiritual.

It is not for muscular Christians who have made John Wayne, and not Jesus, their hero.

It is not for academics who would imprison Jesus in the ivory tower of exegesis.

It is not for noisy, feel-good folks who manipulate their way into Christianity into a naked appeal to emotion.

It is not for hooded mystics who want magic in their religion.

It is not for Alleluia Christians who live only on the mountaintop and have never visited the valley of desolation.

It is not for the fearless and tearless.

It is not for the red-hot zealots who boast with the rich young ruler of the Gospels, “All these commandments I have kept from my youth.”

It is not for the complacent who hoist over their shoulders a tote bag of honors, diplomas, and good works, actually believing they have it made.

It is not for legalists who would rather surrender control of their souls to rules than run the risk of living in union with Jesus.

If anyone is still reading along, the Ragamuffin Gospel was written for the bedraggled, beat-up and burnt out.

It is for the sorely burdened who are still shifting the heavy suitcase from one hand to the other.

It is for the wobbly and the weak-kneed who know they don’t have it all together and are too proud to accept the handout of amazing grace.

It is for the inconsistent, unsteady disciples whose cheese is falling off their cracker.

It is for poor, weak, sinful men and women with hereditary faults and limited talents.

It is for earthen vessels who shuffle along on feet of clay.

It is for the bent and the bruised who feel that their lives are a grave disappointment to God.

It is for smart people who know they are stupid and honest disciples who admit they are scalawags.

 The Ragamuffin Gospel is a book I wrote for myself and anyone who has grown weary and discouraged along the Way.

                                                                                             - Brennan Manning

The little victories

  It’s odd. The cheeriest person in the room is also the sickest. Her disposition seems as upbeat as the bright sunlight streaming through the window, lighting up the many flower baskets placed there. I’ve been coming to this room every day for two weeks with not much else to offer but a smile and friendly words of inquiry.

 

  Looking around the room, one would see a huge poster with photographs of her life. A photo with her daughter … both of them staring out at you and laughing joyously. There’s a picture of her at her graduation and I wonder what she studied. Her wedding photograph … a beautiful bride beside her smiling husband. I haven’t seen the man smile once over the two weeks.

 

It doesn’t look good. The cancer’s aggressive. The treatment’s palliative.  Time’s limited.

  But she’s perky. Upbeat. She always has a joke or two to tell me. I smile at her never sure if it’s appropriate to smile at her jokes. Her mother’s in an armchair, by the window, not smiling at her jokes. Her husband, well I can almost feel his silent grief intensify beside me with each attempt she makes to lighten the atmosphere. Can you blame them though? Because I can’t.  They won’t have her in a few months.

  I see something new. I’ve seen it before. In my own family.  It happens when you realize how frail you are. When you’ve been told there’s no cure.  I notice first the bottle of holy water tucked under her pillow. I see a rosary hanging off the bed.  They’re doing what we say medically. The cycles of chemo. But they’re also reaching out to the Infinite. They’re asking for a miracle. 

 We talk about the little things. How it was good that she walked the corridor twice today. How she’s able to keep food down better today. How awful hospital food is.

The little victories. They seem to be enough for now. Day by day.

 We chat for a little while longer and I take my leave wishing them a good day. Her mother looks over, smiles and thanks me for coming to spend time with them. She has a kind face. The lady herself says “Same time tomorrow?” “You can count on it,” I reply. “Thanks for coming doctor.”

  I turn to leave.  She’s done more for me than I for her. And all I can think is, it’s just not fair.   

Ansu's wedding

So last week we all went down to  New Rochelle in New York for Ansu's wedding. It was a lot of fun. I'm not going to write too much about it. The pictures should say it all....

Group shot of the UConn resident represent!

The bride and groom

With Rina....bridesmaid

Early in the evening with drinks and eats

With Meena, who was post-call but still chipper 

Adarsh and Vanjul

With Aashir....the newest Mathur baby

Ansu dancing with her dad

Bhangra!

Everyone getting into the dancing

Vanjul and Adarsh...there was a lot of Indian music

Ximena dressed very elegantly

The girls breaking it down with the bride

Fun in the photo booth..Take 1!

Take 2

Adarsh dumbstruck after Vanjul's display of affection.

Johnny D kicked Johnny V

As many as we can fit into the photo booth!

Yeah, it was a lot of fun :)!