tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-360083232024-03-07T12:42:12.585-06:00Jyotsna's Pensive.My warehouse of thoughts.Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-29531209793335097532014-08-22T19:04:00.000-05:002014-08-22T19:04:36.874-05:00The climb down<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It was 2 PM; we were at the peak of Mt Washington. The wind had picked up, it was chilly. Hydrated, fed and bundled up; it was time to head back down. Battling the inner voice telling me to take the train back to the base, we set out to find the Jewell Trail to go to the Cog Rail base station, from where we would walk half a mile on level ground to our cars.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">The great gulf wilderness is a part of the 110 million acre National Wilderness Preservation System which provides </span><span style="font-size: 13px;">provides clean air, water, and habitat critical for rare and endangered plants </span><span style="font-size: 13px;">and animals.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cog railway line</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking along the rail line</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: left;">The trail was longer; therefore more gradual than the Ammonoosuc trail took up to the summit. It runs alongside the Cog Rail for a while above treeline; which also had some breathtaking views. It was surreal to see the tiny train chugging slowly up the mountain- a little machine in a vast expanse of rocks. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Chugging along ..</span></td></tr>
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The Cog Rail that runs from the base station in Bretton Woods NH to the observatory on the summit, was conceptualized by a businessman and investor from NH, Sylvester Marsh. His proposal to build a railway lie to the top was ridiculed by the town initially but he set out to build it by hand along with a father and son team, investors Herrick and Walter Aiken. Oxen and cattle had to haul up the materials from the nearest rail town that was 6 miles away; the average ascent is 25 degrees. In July 1869, the first Cog Rail train ran up to the top of Mt Washington. In keeping with the times, the Cog Railway has now added a fleet of biodiesel cars in addition to the steam cars.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mooning the cog" can get you arrested. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun is shining, but it was cold ! </td></tr>
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If the climb up was tiring, the climb down was even worse on the already tired knees. I promptly fell behind the group, trying to steady my quavering knees while hopping on the rocks. I thought, a lot, about going back up and taking the cog rail down; the views and the sight of the summit being so far above us cheered me on. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption">Uncurated views</td></tr>
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After rest stops and a lot of coaxing, we managed to make it below treeline; a relief to be on mud again. The rest of the descent was pretty uneventful, we ran into a few more hikers; some of them who were doing this solo ! We also saw some campsites on the way, signaling that we were close to the base. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally, back to a "regular" trail. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the end of the jewell trail</td></tr>
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3.5 hours and 4000' later, we were on level ground ! We walked the half-mile to the car, exhilarated and shocked that we made it in one piece. Spicy thai food and a lot of rehydration made us feel somewhat human again. </div>
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Recovery: </div>
Day 2 was a day of discovery : we discovered new muscles and aches that we had never known. Climbing up stairs was alright; climbing down was excruciating. A lot of stretching and tough love helped- we were out and about on day3. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">We climbed that !</td></tr>
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PS: These were not the himalayas, but I do feel a sense of achievement, since it was the highest peak in the Northeastern US. Being strong is key - the hard work with all the cardio and strength training is worth the rush standing on the peak brings. It would also be good to do some "practice runs" before - we did not, but I can see how it would have helped. Good shoes and knowing how to tie your laces properly go a long way.<br />
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Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-60258411293934204332014-08-16T09:24:00.000-05:002014-08-16T10:53:16.853-05:00Climbing Mt Washington<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I don't know when I developed a fascination for mountains - it is now an addiction that is fueled by the feeling of insignificance when surrounded by the vast landscape. The bubble that seems impenetrable everyday bursts and there is a sense of balance again.<br />
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I have wanted to climb Mt Washington in in White Mountain ranges in New Hampshire ever since I heard of it. The 4,000' elevation over a 4.5 mile hike to the summit is in moderate - difficult terrain, steep and slick in some places. The weather has a very large part to play, some rain or high winds can quickly turn a perfectly normal hike to a dangerous one.<br />
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Mt Washington is marketed as the home of the world's worst weather. I would like to call the weather fickle - especially for us city dwellers, who find it difficult to understand the effect of altitude and vegetation on the microclimate. It has recorded wind speeds of 231MPH and we have infamously driven up to the summit on a foggy day with under 3' visibility and winds gusting to 60 MPH; but that's a part of the allure of the mountain!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Warning sign above treeline; about 1.4 miles from the summit. </td></tr>
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Coming back to our glorious August day, we set out, later than planned, at 9.30 AM, to ascend on the Ammonoosuc Trail. We were a group of about 15 people that started the hike together; we quickly broke up into smaller groups as we got higher on the trail. The highlight of the hike up was a watermelon; which someone carried all the way up to the summit.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">The group, just as we started the climb<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plaques to remember those who died trying to climb up</td></tr>
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The trail runs alongside the Ammonoosuc river for a part of the way, providing some scenic relief. The first hour or so is a relatively easy hike, following which there is a steep rocky ascent that took us by surprise. I couldn't see where it ended, neither could I google the answer, which was a little unnerving to me. The gem pool, a swimming hole formed by a little waterfall is a great place for a rest. By this time, we had fallen behind our initial group and had to keep ploughing through.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnwdD4kn262GygkrnLk5YY2B4hke6rctLxWd3eXupcUWTzt32QuxG5RFQGnV7acmf67estzSxe1qWdFzNmXlU6eI0PPi0O7kQzmHXFNi_3GNpmuodW92nHQnglPJcDsLzTDte/s1600/IMG_4575.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnwdD4kn262GygkrnLk5YY2B4hke6rctLxWd3eXupcUWTzt32QuxG5RFQGnV7acmf67estzSxe1qWdFzNmXlU6eI0PPi0O7kQzmHXFNi_3GNpmuodW92nHQnglPJcDsLzTDte/s1600/IMG_4575.jpg" height="320" width="254" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gem Pool - there were people swimming and (literally) cooling their heels</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSoLJDtkuypFc4eRq6TEzf8DYbdB7sBuOZXmSxvE96E-2dFr48vKj-GnMdWRAP7Ia4rlPwTthQcB-__R9cIXCBnKoq58e89jotHr31dk_A_14oCL80YO1MBiDI3q5R3pDEiH38/s1600/IMG_4578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSoLJDtkuypFc4eRq6TEzf8DYbdB7sBuOZXmSxvE96E-2dFr48vKj-GnMdWRAP7Ia4rlPwTthQcB-__R9cIXCBnKoq58e89jotHr31dk_A_14oCL80YO1MBiDI3q5R3pDEiH38/s1600/IMG_4578.jpg" height="320" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">This was just like climbing stairs - except each riser was 14-16" high</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1YpJYB8bvBW3K0IY_G9C9qrEF4QUlMihCs3EE1VNEadS28rha4SZHwn2up0KaN7KH0PyM3uzSjiK3ePX8AyCQJCUGD9J2n9gOjvu1iMzdxEuoW6nfXCR4krmedtoin2V4LQZd/s1600/IMG_4602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a><br />
The Ammonoosuc trail leads to the Lakes of the Clouds hut, which is a Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) hut. It is a welcome warm break, with hot soup, chocolate chip cookies, restrooms and plenty of fellow hikers for company. <br />
<br />
About a 1/4 mile below the hut we reached a beautiful outlook, with dramatic panoramas of the white mountain ranges and waterfalls cascading at different angles. The climb up form here on was slick and steep, requiring us to be on all fours quite often, thanking our stars that it had not rained enough to make the rocks slippery. We also got our first view of the hut not too far from here, which was encouraging.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzNeuqjAXtFkcQb3sIQWIe_OLrFS2TRG7ZTev4Lqqr9UBVya4pPKsF4-WsZ3iFcDOGZ3XHvbbY4bCmqEYq96-qh7EANlKHbFvBL78Wi8jF4MnbvHhZfM4Zh9gAdOPGGT5s3BC/s1600/IMG_4591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzNeuqjAXtFkcQb3sIQWIe_OLrFS2TRG7ZTev4Lqqr9UBVya4pPKsF4-WsZ3iFcDOGZ3XHvbbY4bCmqEYq96-qh7EANlKHbFvBL78Wi8jF4MnbvHhZfM4Zh9gAdOPGGT5s3BC/s1600/IMG_4591.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was not a lot of water, but it was refreshing to touch and see</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlT-vISW21_OZDKC3RNFowDlkuQt6GhNDqTE-5IECpjVbOdmOnfw2mMreJueIwtslGbALQedr9-MlzteWcb_E_nTtSWuQFO8ELXiisIHhvIrj8ol7lYCOxC-3O33k7lzxe6X07/s1600/IMG_4593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlT-vISW21_OZDKC3RNFowDlkuQt6GhNDqTE-5IECpjVbOdmOnfw2mMreJueIwtslGbALQedr9-MlzteWcb_E_nTtSWuQFO8ELXiisIHhvIrj8ol7lYCOxC-3O33k7lzxe6X07/s1600/IMG_4593.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I felt like a seal - soaking in as much sun as possible while sitting on the rocks</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1YpJYB8bvBW3K0IY_G9C9qrEF4QUlMihCs3EE1VNEadS28rha4SZHwn2up0KaN7KH0PyM3uzSjiK3ePX8AyCQJCUGD9J2n9gOjvu1iMzdxEuoW6nfXCR4krmedtoin2V4LQZd/s1600/IMG_4602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1YpJYB8bvBW3K0IY_G9C9qrEF4QUlMihCs3EE1VNEadS28rha4SZHwn2up0KaN7KH0PyM3uzSjiK3ePX8AyCQJCUGD9J2n9gOjvu1iMzdxEuoW6nfXCR4krmedtoin2V4LQZd/s1600/IMG_4602.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">About 1/4 mile from the hut - it only took us <br />
about 20 minutes of hopping and crawling on rocks <br />
to get to the hut from here. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxGDM9G91ChX4atoOf8bu_XKO5wVBsg6z15ELt6VuQM90KsTYzjXc6lQWj3xoH3dgz2NWCQ-2LSpPn7pdVdiYh9YCeTem4p3DiksNreL0lyCaRHlhqqcuS5Drv128R2IIZnYms/s1600/IMG_4603.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxGDM9G91ChX4atoOf8bu_XKO5wVBsg6z15ELt6VuQM90KsTYzjXc6lQWj3xoH3dgz2NWCQ-2LSpPn7pdVdiYh9YCeTem4p3DiksNreL0lyCaRHlhqqcuS5Drv128R2IIZnYms/s1600/IMG_4603.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was also the beginning of the alpine zone that I was fascinated by</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The hut was built in memory of two AMC members who were climbing up Mt Washington to go to a meeting at the Summit House. They encountered bad weather and didn't make it to the top. The hut was initially a wooden hut built at the spot where William Curtis had died. Allan Ormsbee perished a little further up the trail. Intended as a "place of refuge" and intended to be uncomfortable for campers; it has not evolved into a stone hut that can accommodate 90 people and is a comfortable place for a break.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5d2mwbGLkPbDXyWTGD5pV8Eu5u__ngdv_uJITcHAT0eViqiFTirZ3vCJmgoOVNOlV3SLfXes30Re33d6s7PiuWYBEIuMMFl-y2DCgPzap-0jjYgf1b8A46Usb07zWDlZ5YA7/s1600/IMG_4633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5d2mwbGLkPbDXyWTGD5pV8Eu5u__ngdv_uJITcHAT0eViqiFTirZ3vCJmgoOVNOlV3SLfXes30Re33d6s7PiuWYBEIuMMFl-y2DCgPzap-0jjYgf1b8A46Usb07zWDlZ5YA7/s1600/IMG_4633.JPG" height="275" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lakes of the clouds and AMC hut as seen from trail above</td></tr>
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The hut is unconnected by road or rail, and the only way to get supplies in and out of there is to carry them on the back from the summit, where they are delivered by road. The staff, called 'croo' walk up and down effortlessly multiple times a day carrying supplies in and trash out from the hut. Their effortless hike with these large loads on their back made our task seem just a little easier !<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_ZdYucWBjr-8w5u4EoNR3XPTmtgmnVW1HccPTvBZcxIRTIBVYLoAy0fFi5Sr_k3B5PGRaLqJ58H4R0hHHJCKWvNXzVzfkLPxJHM-YT7_tqaRVuARp1e7lomUOcLzeUOKSkOs/s1600/Packer.LoriDuff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_ZdYucWBjr-8w5u4EoNR3XPTmtgmnVW1HccPTvBZcxIRTIBVYLoAy0fFi5Sr_k3B5PGRaLqJ58H4R0hHHJCKWvNXzVzfkLPxJHM-YT7_tqaRVuARp1e7lomUOcLzeUOKSkOs/s1600/Packer.LoriDuff.jpg" height="320" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">pic courtesy: nationalparkstraveler.com</td></tr>
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After a long-ish but much needed break at the AMC hut, we hiked on up, powered by the sandwiches we had carried with us and chocolate chip cookies baked in the hut. It was encouraging to see the observatory on the summit, but frustrating to see how we needed to take a circuitous path to get there.<br />
<br />
We were now above treeline and the hike was essentially hopping on rocks, surrounded by alpine vegetation. Magnificent views silently cheered us on; the ominous looking dark clouds ensured that we didn't waste any time looking. The temperature had dropped into the high 50s ( considered very warm for the mountain), and the wind had picked up (~15 mph: very normal) ; we added on the thermal layers.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr-a2WVzWWNZ-14R5QrKIoc7po_v95xMdvChNsbCoJQ4nx1mfuGPHnMwEv1KcowGmQUFn2eLPZNTVL9Qih92NomGvxzSt8QwScjaS5U278dZGdnELuCmNKHFPQ2G30BpnJ11jK/s1600/IMG_4610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr-a2WVzWWNZ-14R5QrKIoc7po_v95xMdvChNsbCoJQ4nx1mfuGPHnMwEv1KcowGmQUFn2eLPZNTVL9Qih92NomGvxzSt8QwScjaS5U278dZGdnELuCmNKHFPQ2G30BpnJ11jK/s1600/IMG_4610.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It looked like this when we left the hut</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-5cjvAh_75YGYX69x90_HitIusdrcGQn89mHnyXQjcWJU95XXAZvlURqT1HkCOfqTgT9zH3BZ2YI2H4gDMvBskhc8gsqIYchlrcfkEbpeobkPZwwV_pBt4dOV1-Zm3M7VhyphenhyphenL/s1600/IMG_4620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-5cjvAh_75YGYX69x90_HitIusdrcGQn89mHnyXQjcWJU95XXAZvlURqT1HkCOfqTgT9zH3BZ2YI2H4gDMvBskhc8gsqIYchlrcfkEbpeobkPZwwV_pBt4dOV1-Zm3M7VhyphenhyphenL/s1600/IMG_4620.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The clouds were starting to gather</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHTpSZXIcFk2mjYfPoLCE0seEd3kWamCeR8BrLVaUkmAAFUTWG8gICkjSCP8tXmrGvPP4iUsM5zTsbIu58IiR1UyyoBh5GOFGPXFM9CWvrw6MvOAEAVofXb_IAnPakQwbrXz2z/s1600/IMG_4629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHTpSZXIcFk2mjYfPoLCE0seEd3kWamCeR8BrLVaUkmAAFUTWG8gICkjSCP8tXmrGvPP4iUsM5zTsbIu58IiR1UyyoBh5GOFGPXFM9CWvrw6MvOAEAVofXb_IAnPakQwbrXz2z/s1600/IMG_4629.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ten minutes later, it looked like this<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhryhmd9jgN-u3cRnyv-5a8eJvOZfvbVUcx6hjQJw6gDyEVvFTDLajdGk7URCBPnOyRnhl6MmxFM_ZGqM4IGeWpk50SFRVxZBrsguIIZ2Rm8c3GqYT3JP1rX6LI3pgx23gVH1sq/s1600/IMG_4630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhryhmd9jgN-u3cRnyv-5a8eJvOZfvbVUcx6hjQJw6gDyEVvFTDLajdGk7URCBPnOyRnhl6MmxFM_ZGqM4IGeWpk50SFRVxZBrsguIIZ2Rm8c3GqYT3JP1rX6LI3pgx23gVH1sq/s1600/IMG_4630.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">These ominous looking clouds made sure we didn't slack on the last leg of the ascent.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
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About 45 minutes and .6 miles later, we were at the top ! After the initial exhilaration of having made it and taking in views, (we had never had a clear day on our previous two trips, these were the best views from the summit we got); we went into the summit house which has restrooms, tables, a snack bar and (of course!) a souvenir shop. There was a long line to get our picture taken at the summit sign, we were joking that there needed to be a separate priority line for hikers.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI5H9e0bcfVIfy7Ldt_UmDF1UWOuA6TXGW8V8L4bWB9Ajl3R2xNhqLGemBn8u1TFfKpX_lFY9BeLnKP0DeFM5AOX6bbBgBu9gqg9SmXlSZzb3vExSK6lps6lYVW64vwduY4zTQ/s1600/IMG_4639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI5H9e0bcfVIfy7Ldt_UmDF1UWOuA6TXGW8V8L4bWB9Ajl3R2xNhqLGemBn8u1TFfKpX_lFY9BeLnKP0DeFM5AOX6bbBgBu9gqg9SmXlSZzb3vExSK6lps6lYVW64vwduY4zTQ/s1600/IMG_4639.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the summit</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tbmOUNY4lqLLyo6vGtQ5fZ0YkP4LQrZp0k056BvM-S69H2UGP4bUCwa-R96shtE3dcPl8dT7a5c1TLLXXP4Eqr05AYuz0-XvVmHmYEMyhkcQwTN5_zGMTQtny2i5vSfYyfM7/s1600/IMG_4636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tbmOUNY4lqLLyo6vGtQ5fZ0YkP4LQrZp0k056BvM-S69H2UGP4bUCwa-R96shtE3dcPl8dT7a5c1TLLXXP4Eqr05AYuz0-XvVmHmYEMyhkcQwTN5_zGMTQtny2i5vSfYyfM7/s1600/IMG_4636.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was fascinated by the Alpine vegetation - plants and flowers in the most unexpected places.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We didn't spend a lot of time looking at the views from the summit - this was more about the journey than the destination. After some hot tea, a lot of water and a souvenir magnet, it was time to head back down.More about that in the next post.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnyOC3XpLJFpe6Fxj6je7FjMOfvydT4oi6eggZrHAQzocoPGeIAxfhwdnKkSFY8zoWreXCkX-Ru5T7nkpX8ZHxhXdHBH3a_ox4dfKrN1cZoPbvTo5EhyphenhyphenaGGc6e4iSx9C68u4V/s1600/Mt+Washington-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnyOC3XpLJFpe6Fxj6je7FjMOfvydT4oi6eggZrHAQzocoPGeIAxfhwdnKkSFY8zoWreXCkX-Ru5T7nkpX8ZHxhXdHBH3a_ox4dfKrN1cZoPbvTo5EhyphenhyphenaGGc6e4iSx9C68u4V/s1600/Mt+Washington-16.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The watermelon ! PC: fellow hiker</td></tr>
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Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-19244033449392078872014-05-12T16:16:00.000-05:002014-05-12T16:16:58.306-05:00Car- Free Living<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
For the husband and me, it was not a cool lifestyle choice. We couldn't afford it. Plain and simple. <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://static.lolyard.com/lol/car-vs-bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://static.lolyard.com/lol/car-vs-bike.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy : multiple websites on the internet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Living in Somerville, MA and struggling with finding a parking spot, keeping track of third thursdays, distance from street intersections, finding your shoveled parking spot being taken by someone else and numerous parking tickets for rules we didn't realize we were violating, we decided to call it quits and sell the car.<br />
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<a href="http://static.lolyard.com/lol/car-vs-bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<div>
We had a newfound sense of freedom. We replaced our old bikes with new ones good enough for commuting, used the T to go to places we had never been before. We even used the commuter rail ! Our radius of activity was limited, but it gave us the opportunity to explore parts of the neighborhood and try activities that we never did before. We started frequenting neighborhood coffee shops and restaurants, inadvertently supporting local businesses. </div>
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We did rent cars to go on trips, or use zipcars to go outside the city, but the trips were infrequent. Our legs got stronger, carbon footprints smaller. We felt good. </div>
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<div>
A little over a year later, things changed. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My commute every morning</td></tr>
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We needed more space and to travel with his visiting parents. As friendly as Boston (and close neighbors) is to car-free living and traveling , the rest of the North East is not. We had two options : spend a lot of money (with no tangible returns) on home and car rentals, or bite the bullet and move to a suburb and buy a car. </div>
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We chose the latter, decided to move. While house hunting, our criteria for looking for places to live was centered around being able to bike to work. We would have to buy a car, but wanted to keep as much of our daily activities car-free as possible. </div>
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We chose Arlington, MA. Close to the bike path, but hassle-free resident parking. Between us, we still bike 90+ miles a week. The car goes to grocery stores and to visit friends and family on weekends. We are strong, our carbon footprint is happy and small.<br />
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P.S. I should preface this by saying that I grew up in India, where public transport or walking is a way to escape having to drive in traffic. Our family also tried not to use the car for more than what was absolutely necessary. I lived in the largest city in the US without public transport for 2.5 years. Also without a car. Being car-free in Boston was probably not as hard for me, especially since I was finding it more and more difficult to justify the effort and expense it took to maintain an aging rarely-used car. </div>
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Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-31895285069759168362013-04-24T19:14:00.002-05:002013-04-24T21:13:41.453-05:00Catharsis<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 15.454545021057129px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 15.454545021057129px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 15.454545021057129px;">And then, just like that, on the day that the marathon "crime scene" opened to the public; the weather was perfect. The perfect amount of blue in the sky, the perfect little fluffy white clouds, the perfect amount of warmth to be out, the perfect amount of breeze to move the wind chimes. It was almost like it was reflecting the energy of Boston. Of hope. Of strength.</span></div>
Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-21669020826189775482012-07-25T20:30:00.000-05:002012-07-25T20:30:45.587-05:00Oprah Winfrey's India<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In an interview with Barkha Dutt, Oprah Winfrey, you said that she wanted to show your audience a "broad picture" and connect to the heart of people. You unfortunately missed one important group - your hosts.<br />
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While I agree that you are an American talk show host who deals with celebrities who might not hesitate to bare all, you were dealing with real families, real people and real emotions during your interviews. People whose lives will not change by your interview. It is insensitive to be invited to a person's home and comment on what it is lacking and ask them intruding questions about their personal lives. No one wants to be reminded of their misery. It would have been wonderful to talk about how well a 11-year old girl held fort and acted as the translator. </div>
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It is also rude to comment on people's habits. Yes, we eat with our hands, just like you eat a sandwich or a slice of pizza. Yes, we have animals, we have birds, we have people in our country - just like you do. And no, we don't all look the same - all you need to do is to pay attention. We do speak english, along with multiple other languages.</div>
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As you might have learned, the Western way is not the only way of living. Not everyone needs a shower head or forks. Some people are happy living the way they are. </div>
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I understand that it is difficult not to want to see the stereotypes. After all, that is all the media feeds you. But, you being Oprah Winfrey, we expected better. We expected you to work a little bit harder to understand the customs of the people you are visiting, and to shed the (unintended ?) "holier than thou" attitude. NO, having a saree made for you or wearing a kurta doesn't qualify. They play right into the hands of the myopic Western view of the East. We are a country of perseverance and strength. Of diversity and of sympathy. Of tolerance and understanding. Of contrast - so stark that it shocks us sometimes. </div>
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Yes, we have our problems, but who doesn't ? Yes, our problems are probably a lot more complicated than a lot of others' but do you realize that we are 65 years old ?</div>
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You tried, but like multiple people before you, you failed. It is impossible to "experience India" (to use your own words) in 2 weeks. Trying to understand us and our country is like being in a relationship - you only get out of it as much as you put into it. Your show packaged the India that people want to see - not the India that is. It did nothing more for people to understand Indian culture than "Friends" does for the rest of the world to understand American culture. Which is why, I know, that someone in spite of watching your show will still come up and ask me if my family owns an elephant. </div>
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Having said that, I appreciate some of the sentiments that you echoed at various points during <a href="http://www.ndtv.com/video/player/ndtv-special-ndtv-24x7/my-life-has-been-a-taj-mahal-ndtv-s-oprah-exclusive/221764?vod-related">this interview </a>with Barkha Dutt, your heart and intentions are in the right place. Actions, however speak louder than words, and your actions, unfortunately told a different story. </div>
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A note to my fellow Indians : all of us (including me) need to lighten up about how the West perceives us. There is some truth in what is being said, we just need to look beneath the layers of fluff that it is packaged in ! </div>
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</div>Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-90758322878359606542011-08-30T12:07:00.002-05:002011-08-30T12:09:33.822-05:00What is the best book you have read ?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="60" id="lbo_frame" scrolling="no" src="http://letsblogoff.com/badge.html" target="_blank" width="200">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Your browser does not support iframes.&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">I used to watch a quiz show on TV growing up where the mascot was a (book)worm, who would come in saying "A book is your best friend". I was sold on that idea and grew up believing that was true. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">In some ways, it was. I read a lot, loved that my father drive 45 minutes on a Sunday to take me to one of the best libraries in town. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">As an architect, I now like books with pictures more than books with words, but I will try to make a list of the books that have impressed me over the years. I should confess, however, that if you give me a list of top 100 books everyone must read, I will do poorly checking off that list. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Favorite kids book: </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">When I was 3 and couldn't read yet, my mom would read out this counting book to me about pom pom bunny preparing for his birthday party. I had made her read the book to me so many times that I knew the words by heart. I would sit there by myself, reciting the words out loud, turning the pages at the right time. I forget the name of the book, but it started like this : </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">"Pom Pom bunny is writing a letter - Please come to my birthday party, it said. How many letters are there? There are 10 letters." </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Favorite toddler book: </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">I loved the "Little Golden Books" The Poky Little Puppy, The Fox and the Hound and Bambi were my favorites. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">My pick : <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Little-Puppy-Special-Anniversary-Golden/dp/0375839208/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1314722231&sr=1-1">The Poky Little Puppy</a> </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Favorite elementary / middle school book(s): </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">This is more an author than a book. I grew up reading everything Enid Blyton. From the mystery and adventure series to the Naughtiest girl and finally when my tastes started becoming more girly, St,. Claires ; she kept me entertained, informed and left me with a strong desire to travel to England and live in the English countryside.<br />
My pick: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Blytons-Malory-Towers-Collection-Second/dp/B003W60O3M/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1314722121&sr=1-2">Malory Towers</a> series by Enid Blyton</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">High School books: </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">I was a confused kids. My reading choices will tell you that. I would read Nancy Drew, Classics Illustrated, Sweet Valley and did the typical Jeffery Archer , Robin Cook and anything else I could lay my hands on. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">My pick : <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Kane-Abel-Jeffrey-Archer/dp/0312942729/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1314722007&sr=8-1">Kane and Abel</a> by Jeffery Archer. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Grown-up books: </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">If I was confused in High School, I am worse now. I will try to pick some books that genuinely impressed me and left me thinking. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Million-Little-Pieces-James-Frey/dp/0385507755">A million little pieces, James Frey</a>. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">It is a semi-fictional autobiography of a 23-year old guy through alcohol,drugs and rehab. Immensely powerful because it is bereft of any self-pity or excuses. It is blatantly objective and honest. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Namesake-Novel-Jhumpa-Lahiri/dp/0618485228/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1314722794&sr=1-1">The Namesake , Jhumpa Lahiri</a></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;">An amazing story about the Indian diaspora in the US, and their identity crisis. The story is narrated in aw way that endears you to the characters and leaves you thinking about how to define home, family and identity. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Thousand-Splendid-Suns-Khaled-Hosseini/dp/159448385X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1314722977&sr=1-1">A Thousand Splendid Suns , Khalid Hosseni</a><br />
A story of two generations of women in Afghanistan, oppression, terror and the Taliban. It is a story of a male-dominated society, of friendships and hope, of betrayal and the struggle to survive. It is a beautiful portrayal of Afghanistan before the Taliban and how their policies affected the daily lives of people. A beautiful book about human spirit. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/India-Calling-Intimate-Portrait-Remaking/dp/0805091777/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1314723823&sr=1-1">India Calling, Anand Giridhardas</a></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">First generation American citizen, NYT columnist goes back to visit the land his parents left decades ago in search of a better life and understand his roots. His book is an objective commentary on the state of the country now and his views on the future direction it will take.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Snakehead-Chinatown-Underworld-American-Dream/dp/0307279278/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1314723848&sr=1-1">The Snakehead , Patrick Radden Keefe</a></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Another of those narratives, this time about the Chinese mafia in NY Chinatown. It is the story of how one woman almost-single-handedly managed to transport an entire district of China to the US illegally and help them lead a better life. It is also about perceptions and how a most-wanted fugitive in one part of the world is a most-revered figure in another. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">And, of course. Atlas Shrugged. Before I am accused of blasphemy, let me mention The Fountainhead. Although I might not agree in principle to the underlying message of these books, it is the idea of power and changing the world in these books that impresses me. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Check out other participating posts :</span></span><br />
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I am both terrified and thrilled by thinking about 20 years hence. I can only hope - life hands me lemonade; and not make me hunt for the lemons. I can sweeten it, still lemonade would be nice.<br />
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I am 26, have a masters degree in architecture and care for the planet and the less fortunate. I have also been unemployed since I graduated, for the last 8 months. In 20 years, I hope to be doing something that unites all three of my passions. Of course, I hope for world peace, healthcare and food for everyone in the world and an end to poverty, but lets be practical here.<br />
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I believe that the rich / poor divide is going to grow. It will be a survival of the fittest, and competition will get intense. Today's technology will become obsolete : kids will wonder how we survived without gizmos (you remembered things -really ? what do you mean you didn't write to everyone - you TALKED ?) Technology will start ruling architecture, we might see entire sections of the building 3D printed. LEED will be a part of the building code - wait - buildings will be blobs. Architecture will start becoming blobitecture - blobs will be self-sustaining independent living systems. People living in the blobs will only socialize with the people in the blob; therefore becoming independently functioning entities. Kids will think cows are a type of food and sparrows are found only in zoos. Villages and small-towns will become unheard of, with cities growing to 4 times their current size.<br />
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In the midst of all this mayhem, there will be a group of like-minded professionals who still find beauty in purity and simplicity. People who cared about the past, people who care about the future. People who do not think that technology is the answer to everything - people who want to help. People who believe that if we looked outside, we will find the right answers.<br />
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I will be among those people, hopefully not having abandoned my dream of becoming an architect because the world didn't have enough money to hire me and people wanted blobs, not buildings.<br />
I hope.<br />
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A participating Lets Blog Off Post.<br />
The table below is a list of the other posts in this series.<br />
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</div>Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-53355476730255815972011-07-05T20:50:00.000-05:002011-07-05T20:50:03.662-05:00Traditions - Lets blog off<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Once every two weeks, the blog world unites to blog about a common topic. The topic this time : "What traditions do you keep ?<br />
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I cant think of traditions without thinking about my roots. I was born in a city called Chennai in Southern India, where my parents grew up and went to college. However, we lived in different places until I was 5, and when it was time for me to attend regular school, settled down in a place I consider home, Bangalore.<br />
In India, traditions (religious and cultural) vary from state to state. Although we have a lot of national holidays that are celebrated by the entire country, the way the religious festivals are celebrated widely differ, sometimes even falling on different days. There is always a set of conventions that each family follows, each fine tuned to suit their individual preferences.<br />
Growing up, my family always celebrated all the religious festivals that our family traditionally celebrated at home, but with a local flavor. One thing common between all of them was food, new clothes and sharing - a tradition I still continue to maintain.<br />
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Of course, moving halfway across the world changes things. Living in a different timezone and following a different cultural calendar is confusing, add to that being married to a guy whose husband's family follows a slightly different cultural calendar ; and things are seriously complicated.<br />
One tradition I still continue to keep through all of this, is the one I was raised with - celebrating all festivals with a local flavor. The number of occasions has increased - from 1 to 3 different sources, but I'm not complaining ! <br />
I cook traditional meals for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thai_Pongal">Pongal</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diwali">Diwali</a>, bake a traditional fruitcake for Christmas, complete with dry fruits that have been soaked in rum for a week. Considering that my family here is too widespread to visit, thanksgiving is the time to celebrate with friends who have become family here. <br />
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So I guess I should say that the only tradition I really keep is amalgamation !<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU5cxxxi0roRXqEkv379slbTQdQLRRoCtvpFesbj6B6KElx3TyhuoLiOsjzVGzUhR-gFfvuA0RnpaZJSV5bKIf-rRIkum6WOb9aSl7d6bR3GtoiCtJ3DQyyX3QO15FqjmehCpE/s1600/pongal-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU5cxxxi0roRXqEkv379slbTQdQLRRoCtvpFesbj6B6KElx3TyhuoLiOsjzVGzUhR-gFfvuA0RnpaZJSV5bKIf-rRIkum6WOb9aSl7d6bR3GtoiCtJ3DQyyX3QO15FqjmehCpE/s320/pongal-01.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Here's a list of other participating posts:<br />
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</div>Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-19207038027159735592011-06-21T10:04:00.000-05:002011-06-21T10:04:55.880-05:00Relax and recharge<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Relaxing is stressful. To find the perfect thing to do to feel your best the next day stresses me out ! <br />
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The topic of this blog made me start thinking about relaxing, and how the concept has changed for me over the years. .<br />
As a kid, relaxing meant running around, trying to dodge homework and playing imaginary games with imaginary people. As a teenager, all I wanted to do was curl up with a book, shut off from people and the world. I am a TV snob, and tend not to like most of the things I watch, so that stressed me out too.<br />
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Somewhere between my teens and my tweens, I developed a love for the beach. Although I cannot go lie on the beach for hours together, its too passive, I loved the sound of the waves and the moonlight bouncing off the waves especially on a full moon night. <br />
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Now on the wrong side of my twenties, I think relaxing is mental; and about food. My favorite thing to do after a stressful day is to cook. The coming together of the dish, the intermixing of all the different flavors and sometimes contradicting tastes to come together to appeal to a larger audience is magical. Top it off with home made dessert, and I am ready to go !<br />
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I am also a page traveler. I love traveling, especially through books. The idea of being in a foreign land, where no one knows you and you know no one is thrilling. I am happiest when I have some travel / guide books around me and I am making notes for all the touristy things to avoid and the non-touristy things to do! Of course, actually going to the less visited places would be the icing on the cake, but that is for another day ! <br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="60" id="lbo_frame" scrolling="no" src="http://letsblogoff.com/badge.html?guilty" target="_blank" width="200"><p></p></DIV></iframe></div>Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-66388371506818576752011-04-21T21:14:00.000-05:002011-04-21T21:14:40.365-05:00India Calling<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">by Anand Giridhardas. <br />
I havent finished reading it yet, but this is something I would recommend. <br />
It is a first generation american's account of his return to his parents' homeland and his understanding of the changing dynamics and energy of the country. It is strong without being depraving. The first ever book in recent times that has made me sit up and face the facts.<br />
(It took me a long long time to accept Aravind Adiga's "The White Tiger" ; anything slightly negative puts me behind a veil of denial from where I finish reading the rest of the book). <br />
I am making a conscious effort this time not to go behind that veil, mainly because of my fear of losing the experience of the journey. I hope the rest of the book is a good experience. Will update soon !<br />
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</div>Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-34848831120883717552011-04-11T17:00:00.000-05:002011-04-11T17:00:08.791-05:00Dear Sachin (the man we all want to be)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Thank You, for the World Cup victory. Yes, thanks not congratulations, would reflect how a vast majority of us feel. We have been given the opportunity to witness what is probably one of the most poignant moments of our lives. Grown men (and women) cried, people danced on the streets, atheists prayed, rational people succumbed to superstition and we rejoiced. All those sleepless nights of people all over the world (especially in the N. American continent), waking up in the dead of the night to watch, all the lost productivity, all the arguments, the emotional roller-coasters were all worth it. For that, a big thank you. <br />
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Also thank you for not getting your 100th 100 in the final. I know that you will have plenty of opportunity to do it in the future, and I hope that when you do get it, it will be significant to the team's success. By leading the way all through the tournament but not playing the key role in the final, you have proved to the cricket-loving Indian public that the team is in good hands. We were still suffering from a big 4 hangover. That is fully cured now, thanks to Dhoni and Gambhir and Yuvi leading the way in the final.<br />
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Finally, a big thank you for being you. We respect your straight drive as much as we respect your personality. We hope our children will grow up to be as calm, level headed and sincere as you. We hope that they will not let success get to their heads and have the same work ethic as you do. We hope that they will have someone like a Sachin Tendulkar to emulate while growing up, just like we did.<br />
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Best wishes,<br />
a fan.</div>Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-72937319110782482472011-03-31T09:47:00.000-05:002011-03-31T09:47:21.669-05:00The thin line between smart puns and distasteful jingoism<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">India defeated Pakistan to be in the Cricket World Cup Finals 2011. The social networking world (at least for people from the subcontinent) has been a frenzy of activity with people posting newspaper articles, status updates, comments, discussions, strategies and analysis before / during and after the match. It all made for some interesting reading (for us) and some annoyance for some others (who don't follow cricket and wondering why this word that sounds like the name of an insect has taken over your friends' pages). <br />
Facebook, twitter and other social networking sites have given people a chance to express themselves in ways that we could not have imagined before. However, it has also made people believe that one can get away with saying anything. Comparing a cricket match to war, bringing politics and mythology into it, using profanities and attacking the opponent's culture does not show your support for your national team, it just shows your lack of character. For every 'retweet' or 'like' you might be getting, have you thought of the people whose sentiments you might be hurting ?<br />
Attacking the opposition's culture will not help your team win. Cheering them on will. Hate messages on social networking sites does not make you more of an Indian than anyone else. However, it makes you less of a human being. <br />
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</div>Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-64460930444872186982011-03-17T18:08:00.000-05:002011-03-17T18:08:52.656-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5bPogUvK-dZ26vnzKgnAkcZLiXmmw7TvaHQgmA7GeTOb5iZKK5W2ZLjvwbCV08XA_9PpHgKbX8XshS9ELal4PeoIX_ePyA743y9BQg1YykSGDiX8ge9C3T0JwDNGoduFDciQL/s1600/japan-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5bPogUvK-dZ26vnzKgnAkcZLiXmmw7TvaHQgmA7GeTOb5iZKK5W2ZLjvwbCV08XA_9PpHgKbX8XshS9ELal4PeoIX_ePyA743y9BQg1YykSGDiX8ge9C3T0JwDNGoduFDciQL/s320/japan-01.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During a time that everything seems dark, all we can do is focus on the bright spots that seem to appear from nowhere. Wishing hope and courage for the people in Japan to recover from this calamity. </td></tr>
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</div>Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-35522623013148222162011-03-05T15:52:00.000-06:002011-03-05T15:52:28.727-06:00Where you live shapes who you become<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I recently started exercising again. I have always been doing it, on and off, after college. Initially, I did it because my parents wanted me to. After I moved to the US, I restarted after the first year because I felt it was a shame not to use the facilities we were being given. I joined group exercise classes, and it felt great to try something new and make new friends.<br />
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Although I can wax eloquent on the health benefits of exercise, weight loss has never been a reason for me to exercise. I do it because it makes me feel good. Physically, mentally, emotionally. (Yes, if you are my parents or brother or husband, you know why being emotionally fit is important - more to them than to me).<br />
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My recent foray into the world of work outs and conviction to stick to it is for a completely different reason (yes, the fact that I have paid money for a whole year has something to do with it too). For the first time, I have a reason to be fit and more active. I want to be able to run / bike along the charles river in the summer; I want to be able to run in the cold on the sidewalks like all the people I see on the street. I want to be able to hike for hours and feel good about it. I want to be able to bike to a far-ish picnic spot, lay on the grass all afternoon and come back biking in the evening. Also, sometime in the (more near than far, I hope) future, I want to be able to run at least a 5k.<br />
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The fact that the outdoors are much more accessible now has inspired me. Which brings me to believe in the title of the post, "where you live shapes who you become".<br />
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P.S. In the process, if I have nicely toned abs and calves, I wont be complaining :)<br />
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</div>Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-81748146144959056052011-02-27T23:26:00.000-06:002011-02-27T23:26:47.828-06:00ICF 2.0<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I blogged about being an Indian Cricket Fan or <a href="http://jyotsnasivaguru.blogspot.com/2007/03/being-indian-cricket-fan.html">ICF</a> 4 years ago, during the last world cup.<br />
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Since then my active involvement in the game has been waxing and waning. More waxing of late, since I can spend time actually watching the match rather than have to listen to interrupted commentary while working.<br />
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I have also been observing the newer brand of ICF : the transplanted ICF<br />
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The basics remain the same, you are still subjected to high levels of stress, lessened productivity and mood swings; just compounded by the fact that you have to wake up at unearthly hours to watch the match.<br />
Cricinfo is bookmarked and always open on your laptop.<br />
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The hour before the scheduled start of play is spent in frantically testing and finding a *working link*. *Working link please* becomes the most used phrase on IM during this time.<br />
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You groan with the same agony when the link stops working as you do when an Indian wicket falls or a catch is dropped.<br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">You are excited about day/night matches being played in West Indies and South Africa because it is during normal waking hours. Even if they are insignificant matches that you wouldn't normally watch. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Within 10 minutes of the match ending, 8/10 of your friends have fb status messages and tweets that have their analysis of the match, there are about 20 comments and 30 'likes' to every status message.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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You try to explain to a Rangers fan why you are so passionate about a game that *lasts 5 days and has tea breaks*, but cant appreciate baseball.<br />
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Every tournament final is as important as the superbowl. The debates about the state of Indian cricket are almost as passionate as the debates about politics at every Desi party you go to.<br />
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Joining a cricket league is your most important summer activity. You think you are an IPL player and scheme about how to join a better team next season. </div>Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-77486034711462786642011-02-24T21:43:00.003-06:002011-02-24T22:16:19.527-06:00Uncle Pai<div>I haven't written in what feels like forever. Wait, it HAS been forever. :) </div><div>Uncle Pai has had such a profound impact on me growing up that I thought it was perfect for me to restart blogging with a tribute to him. </div><div><br /></div><div>Uncle Pai defined my childhood. I don't remember seeing a picture of him ever, I couldn't just do a google image search back then, but I had this image of an average-height black-haired man with kind eyes sheltered by thick-black framed glasses with a face that had a formed smile sitting behind a desk with a pen and writing all those letters on nice paper. I was content with that image. </div><div><br /></div><div>I actually used to find science fascinating; because of the way he told us. Unfortunately, that fascination ran out when I had to face it in a real school with real teachers. I would try and get into adventures so that I could write to him to tell him that it had happened to me and see my name in print. Most of what I know about Indian mythology is thanks to him, after my grandmothers. To me he was Santa Claus, who gave us a present every week, through the newspaper man. A Santa who knew everything about everything that there is to know. </div><div><br /></div><div>I attribute my love for reading to him, he showed me snippets of an alternative universe through his books, a universe that I decided I wanted to explore further. Dog Detective Ranjha led me to believe that normal people could solve mysteries; Shikari Shambu taught me that luck can only help you fool other people, Tantri taught me that being cunning is not always being smart, Kalia reinforced my argument for the advantages of being small built. </div><div><br /></div><div>I used to have every single edition I had bought at the back of a shelf that was used to store old newspapers. Everytime the raddiwala came, I used to stand and watch my parents take the newspaper out like a hawk, so that none of my books from my precious collection were unwittingly thrown away. I would read them, re-read them and re-read the re-read comics, until my parents had to intervene and say "no more tinkle" for the week. We had to give all those "books" away when we moved. That was when I realised that I was not a child anymore and had to grow up. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thank You, Uncle Pai - for all the fond memories. I hope future generations continue to be as fascinated by Amar Chitra Kathas as we were. </div><div><br /></div>Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-66159851560125438412009-06-21T23:57:00.003-05:002009-06-22T00:05:12.663-05:00home beckons !Why i think i should go home ...<br /><br />Rangashankara<br />Driving<br />SMS<br />Sreeraj lassi bar<br />Amma pannina murungakkai rasam<br />Dyuman's "bear" hugs :)<br />Daddy-daughter time<br />Besi<br />"Moda" pani puri<br />Traffic on the streets, honking, buses and autos<br />Waking up to voices in the kitchen, hot beverages that are ready before you are, breakfast, lunch, dinner taking care of themselves.<br />Kilometers, Liters, Rupees<br />Home, room, bed - all of which i can rightfully call mine ...<br /><br />There can never be enough reasons why I need to go home. The most important is that is .. HOME.<br />mamma, I'm coming homeee !!Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-49197362268039483482009-03-29T10:38:00.003-05:002009-03-29T21:55:12.338-05:00heard.What is the first thing that comes to mind when I say India ?<br />1. Indian food.<br />2. Curry<br />3.Convenience stores.<br />4. The bindi.<br />5. Water buffaloes<br />6. Cows !<br />7. Elephants<br />8. Are you a part of Asia ??<br />9. Castes.<br />10. I'm sure they have arranged marriages there still. Is it allowed for you to marry outside your "race" ?<br />Does not really relate to the real title here, but i still found it funny that someone asked me : "have you already been "promised" to somebody ?"Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-66972187504747869072009-03-05T23:14:00.002-06:002009-03-05T23:50:26.916-06:00the web.The complexity of human relationships amazes me. It is almost like geometry.. starts with lines, and before you know it, there is an intense web that is almost-unfathomable.<br /><br />The lines in a relationship are a screen. They are also the base. The people are the building blocks. Emotion is the geometry that brings them together. It can be straight. It can be twisted. It can be simple. It can be complex. It can be apparent. It can be enigmatic. It can be aesthetic. It can be ugly. At the end, it is a simple ordering principle that life is based on.<br /><br />We are born inside a pre-designed web. A system that will hold us when we try to stick out hands out. After a while, we learn the ropes. We start experimenting, first with the nose, then with the hands and then the legs. Before we know it, we have mastered the art and are ready to break out of the web. The break-out leaves a gaping hole. Sometimes, we try to fix by trying to repair the hole so that it does not look like the outline of our body. Most times, we just learn to live with it. Leave the hole open so that we can go back whenever we want to. Hope that with time, the hole will heal itself, and look more ordered, restoring the original geometry so that it does not look so mangled anymore. Hope that with time, the hole will become a doorway, a legitimate entrance / exitway.<br /><br />Sometimes, the web fails. Thats what tests our strength. Some of us are strong enough to hold the web together and help re-weave it, some of us are strong enough to get out of the web unscathed, some a little bruised, some just cave in.<br /><br />It does not affect us so much if the web that we created caves in , because we know that we are capable of weaving it again, with, maybe a slight shift in axis or a change in the ordering geometry; but it does affect us when the pre-designed web collapses. We get so comfortable with the web that we are unable to comprehend the changes. We are not sure if we can repair the web, we might not like the changes made to it.<br /><br />In the end, we learn to live. The lines might have been truncated, twisted, some completely erased. We learn to live with the changed geometry. We become active participants in the creation of the geometry and learn to love it. That is what we all live for.Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-60125722252345553012008-11-06T16:03:00.007-06:002008-11-06T18:36:03.217-06:00autumn (because i find it funny to noun-ize a verb)The leaves are finally falling in Arlington. It is awesome, the brown carpet of dead leaves on the grass, the multi-colo(u)red trees, the dynamism that comes with changing colours every day.<br /><br />Morbid as it might sound, there is so much beauty in death. if something that signifies the end can be so beautiful, i am eagerly waiting for something that signifies the beginning.<br /><br />I was in NY for a few days a couple of weeks back. Didn't have a lot of time to go to the right places to see the fall colours, but i loved whatever little i saw.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4IVtG5P1F8Fa2Q27NoHEWR5rx86wyvOrDTHDtVUAaxyFXDUfELyhnq_GevvEDh8UOehemlJA_Mm8TpRdkyusXTI5jYvgAKYx1xAAyPkpWZ56QkUS_1VtFcnASwDBh3aX0WtH/s1600-h/NY+564.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4IVtG5P1F8Fa2Q27NoHEWR5rx86wyvOrDTHDtVUAaxyFXDUfELyhnq_GevvEDh8UOehemlJA_Mm8TpRdkyusXTI5jYvgAKYx1xAAyPkpWZ56QkUS_1VtFcnASwDBh3aX0WtH/s200/NY+564.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265691935648352786" border="0" /></a> Central Park, NY<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rX_NtMx7ZqY2RX4GGWNZczCZG169xLRRXamOivKX45nUIRojR4MOKW9zWnrdhB5NghznZgMTmCHyvUX9w61N7C_fnClRIn7o-SBvxQlka_OZpq9DCA8RjlMCgYYOaNCEJnaN/s1600-h/NY+769.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rX_NtMx7ZqY2RX4GGWNZczCZG169xLRRXamOivKX45nUIRojR4MOKW9zWnrdhB5NghznZgMTmCHyvUX9w61N7C_fnClRIn7o-SBvxQlka_OZpq9DCA8RjlMCgYYOaNCEJnaN/s200/NY+769.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265692326507542498" border="0" /></a> some arbit park, NJ.<br /><br />pics from uta coming soon :DJyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-21288645474841874952008-09-14T20:13:00.002-05:002008-09-14T21:49:34.453-05:00Transplanting 101Its been a while since i blogged .<br />and in the while that its been, i have moved to Arlington, Texas, to pursue my Masters in Architecture.<br /><br />Transplanting 101 is the lesson that they "taught" us at the orientation. It was about the old soil and the new soil have to interact and reach a balance before it can take root. It made a lot of sense to us then. and still does.<br /><br />My "experiences in America" so far have been interesting, to say it simply.<br />The first week ( half-week, rather - i got here on a Wednesday) passed in a daze - time spent with family and overcoming jet-lag.<br />The next two weeks - was spent in trying to fix a place to stay and getting used to the university.<br />Its been 3 weeks since school started.<br /><br />The first thing i noticed about the US was - "there's mosaic at the Houston airport!"<br />The second (this was when i went to walmart, and bought household supplies) - everything's HUGE!<br />The third (this was on a sunny afternoon, under the shade of a tree in front of the library) - the squirrels are LARGE. and they don't have stripes !! ( they are very cute - they look like the classic chip-n-dale cartoons, when they are biting on something.)<br />The fourth - Man, the onions are like tennis balls, and the potatoes are like missiles!<br /><br />I find it strange that one has to ask for water as a "drink" in a restaurant. I also find it strange that everyone is so friendly. ( I am not complaining - it just took me almost 2 weeks to get used to everyone smiling and nodding to me). I also find it funny that vegetarian food in fast food joints is so hard to find (Indian subs and McD's - yayy!)<br /><br />What i do love about the country, is the thoroughness. They pay attention to the minutest detial( to the point that the vegetables in most stores are 'waxed' to make them look good). There is not a single "inaccessible" space that I have come across. They value time. Theirs and others. The level of automation is also mind-boggling. There are machines for everything. Systems for everything. Methods for everything. and, a sense of humo(u)r accompanies it all. Americans can laugh at themselves.<br /><br />We have a lot to learn from this country. and I hope that we will.<br />If we are able to implement systems in the next 20 years in India, i will consider it a big victory.<br /><br />Signing off, ttyl. :PJyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-18943730123329580902008-07-08T06:17:00.004-05:002008-07-08T08:28:38.589-05:00do aane mein chaaar !<span style="font-size:85%;">Disclaimer: I love all the people that are/have helped me ... this is just to see the other side!</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Now you'll know why I am cranky, when I am!</span><br /><br />Its been a while.<br />In the "while" that its been, I've managed to get myself admitted into The University of Texas at Arlington, for a Masters in Architecture.<br />As a result of that, I have had to do a LOT of running around ; deal with Govt. offices ; talk/meet/act in ways that I normally wouldn't.<br />At the end of every "step" ; when it seemed that things had a dead end, something happened that cleared the clouds. Call it providence, call it fate, call it a divine intervention. I'm just happy that it all did - and thankful to all the people who made it happen :)<br />Now that I have less than a month to leave, apart from the usual (Will you come back ? ; will you remember us? ; When will i see you next? ; Will you come back with an accent? ; I'll kill you if you talk to me with a twang! ; Happy 4th of July ; Will you start wearing short skirts and tank tops? ; If you go away now, WHEN do you intend to get married?) ; I am also getting a LOT of <em>gyaan.</em><br /><em>Free, unsolicited gyaan.</em><br />What I thought only held good for cricket (ref my post titled ICF ..) is now good for Foreign travel also. especially if you are travelling as a student. alone.<br />One person tells you to learn to cook; another says its no big deal .. you'll learn anyway. One person tells you its no use learning; whose going to eat the junk that you prepare? Another tells you that you are doomed if egg is not among your preferred list of foods.<br />One tells you to carry as many clothes from here as possible. Another says that what you get here is not in <em>vogue </em>there; and you'll end up feeling like ugly duckling!<br />One tells you that you;ll learn to adjust to other people/ habits / cultures ; another says that it'll be near-impossible : given how finicky I am.<br />One tells you not to live away from campus another says that far aways is all the place you will get to live, initially.<br />One tells you that it is going to be all fun ; another says it'll be all work and no play.<br /><br />My response to all this:<br /><em>THANK YOU.</em><br /><em>I understand that you mean well, but no thanks. </em><br /><em>If you have anything to say that you have experienced (i can see that smile on your face, appa!) then share your wisdom... but please don't "expect" me to listen. Just as you think you are entitled to your opinion, I am too; to mine! </em><br /><em></em><br /><em></em>Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-80692228194178512122008-02-01T08:39:00.000-06:002008-02-01T08:47:12.285-06:00Quarter-life crisis ...<span style="color:#ff0000;">For the want of enthusiasm / inspiration to write something original, here's something i read, and love :) </span><br /><br /><br />Being a twenty-something...........<br /><br />It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing thatthere are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.<br /><br />You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly thegreatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don't recognize isthat they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.<br /><br />You look at wat ur studyin or ur job... and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you.<br /><br />Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't. One minute,you are insecure and then the next, secure.<br /><br />You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but staywhere you are or move forward.<br /><br />You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you lovesomeone! but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you'redoing this because you know that you aren't a bad person. Getting wastedand acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through thesame emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friendsabout the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision.<br /><br />You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself... and while winning the<br />race would be great, right now you are scared justto be a contender!<br />What you may not realize is that every one reading this relates to it.We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out. Send this to your twenty-something friends... maybe it will help someone feel like they aren't alone intheir state of confusion...<br /><br />Its called "Quarter-life Crisis." nothing is constant......except change. wats life without a few risks? keep playing the game ! Just take care and be good .. & be Honest to yourselfJyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-41888359463238556232007-12-10T12:17:00.000-06:002007-12-10T12:29:55.890-06:00continuous discontinuity"We are all just prisoners here .. of our own device".<br />This line from the famous song by the Eagles, "Hotel California" recently triggered off a series of thoughts.....<br />Amazing, to note that the feeling of being trapped, made worse by the knowledge that it is all one's own doing has been present for ages. There is no "chance" in the world. Every action is a conscious / subconscious decision by an individual, and every incident is a reaction to a decision / action taken.<br />The song also triggers different emotions everytime i listen to it. It feels like a tribute to the human spirit while being cynical about the hypocrits in all of us.<br /><br />The next time you feel like complaining, listen to the song. It will do wonders. At least, it does, to me ! :)Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36008323.post-69491253515101998372007-11-13T11:54:00.000-06:002007-11-13T12:01:33.676-06:00The elusive perfect ....What makes us do? Why are we us? Who controls the mind? Who controls the thought? What controls the action?<br />Is it the invisible pink unicorn?<br /><br />Why do we strive? What do we fear? How do we reason? Where do we understand? What do we inherit? Who do we trust? Why do we love? Why do we dream? Why do we hope?<br /><br />Who are we fighting? What are we revolting against? What is the world ?<br /><br />The answer to it all ... THE ELUSIVE PERFECT = THE INVISIBLE PINK UNICORN.Jyotsnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11283637122211353167noreply@blogger.com5