What a woman. She serves as the Asst. Prof. of Pediatric Cardiology at the Jayadeva Institute of Cardiology in Bangalore and man, she knows her stuff. More importantly is the way she carries herself. She is the kindest most motherly cardiologist I've ever come across. She even has a twinkle in her eye. She's the type of person who's presence is felt as she walks into a room.
To the left of her desk is a table full of dusty awards that she pays little attention to. They are unnecessary for her job satisfaction. She does her work with the greatest joy and as a professor she trains her students really well in a tough love sort of way.
Its unsurprising that she did her residency at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. I thought it was cool that she wore her saree underneath her white doctors coat. I was also impressed by her Aum ring tone. She is a devout Hindu.
She is simply a saint. She has found joy in life through serving others with her well tamed proficiency in complicated medical science. She is definitely an inspirational character who's lessons I will not forget any time soon.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
The Raj meets The Taj
It goes without saying that the Taj Mahal in Agra, India is hands down all that AND a bag of chips.
My eyes have never beheld anything as beautiful and tremendously romantic.
My entire journey to India led up to this moment. All of the struggles I faced here dissolved. My mind was fixated on absorbing the magnificence of the Taj.
I was overwhelmed. I didn't expect it to be as great as it is. The complexity matched with simplicity was too much for me to handle.
My time here is complete. I can go home.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Early Return: July 23
Due to some unexpected things at home (nothing serious) I will be returning to California on July 23.
I am not looking forward to leaving India but I have to admit that I am looking forward to some upcoming things at home: brother's wedding (7/24-29), AUM camping trip (7/31-8/3), family retreat (8/3-8), Olympics (8/8-24), etc.
My life will be back to normal on August 9th.
Time to hunt for a job.
-----------
Currently I am in Delhi. I went to see the Taj Mahal yesterday and will be visiting the Ganges River and Himalaya Mountains in the next few days.
I am not looking forward to leaving India but I have to admit that I am looking forward to some upcoming things at home: brother's wedding (7/24-29), AUM camping trip (7/31-8/3), family retreat (8/3-8), Olympics (8/8-24), etc.
My life will be back to normal on August 9th.
Time to hunt for a job.
-----------
Currently I am in Delhi. I went to see the Taj Mahal yesterday and will be visiting the Ganges River and Himalaya Mountains in the next few days.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Trust
Finding trustworthy strangers in India is not an easy task. It is far less difficult to come across someone who will do their best to take advantage of your vulnerable situation.
I was alone on a local bus heading back home from a day of touring Bangalore. I had only a memory of the location that I needed to get off at. It didn't help that it was getting dark and monsoon rain was starting to pour. The kind gentleman that instructed me to get on that particular bus also partnered me with a stranger who claimed he was getting off at my stop. I only had the kind gentleman's phone number written on a napkin in my pocket but I had no cell phone. For whatever reason I wasn't concerned that the stranger did not speak any English. I had to trust him.
I looked at my watch -- 5:30pm. I was told that I would arrive at my stop at 7:30pm due to the very heavy evening traffic. The time passed quickly as I discovered Bangalore (and Indian in general) is fascinating to look at from the bus window. Shortly after 7:00pm the bus stopped in the middle of the road. Apparently the route was blocked and the bus could not get to my stop. The stranger indicated that we needed to get off.
As I exited the bus I began to smile. It was dark, raining, and I had no idea where I was. An adventure was to be had.
I felt I had been on that street before. I felt that we were not too far from my stop. But then again, so many streets looked the same in India and I really had no idea how to get home.
After the bus started down the street the stranger handed his bag to another person and started to run after the bus. I figured he forgot something on the bus and would be back shortly. His friend and I waited for quite some time before the stranger returned with another bag. I guess I was right.
We started to walk. I could only pray that we were going the right direction. It felt right so I was still smiling. I was smiling up until the point that the stranger decided to veer off the main road into a darker street. I understood that he was trying to tell me that it was a shortcut. My stomach started to tremble.
I guess I should have insisted to stick to the main road or I should have phoned the kind gentleman who did speak English. I decided to follow the stranger down the dark road. I figured if he tried anything fishy I could walk back to the main road and make that phone call.
Oh, I forgot to mention I was carrying my camera bag. Throughout my time in India I have carried my camera. Its both a blessing and a curse. I've enjoyed taking lots of photos but without it I would have blended in easier. Aside from my inability to speak the local language, carrying an item of that kind of expense was a surefire indication that I was a foreigner. They knew.
As we walked along the 'shortcut' I forgot the way back to the main street. Dozens of scenarios flashed through my mind. None of them positive.
After a half an hour of walking through dark streets, through fields, through the unknown we came through to another main street. Whew. The strangers pointed the direction in which I should continue walking. I was unconvinced and one of them started walking in that direction. I followed him and fifteen minutes later a huge sigh of relief overcame me. At 7:45pm we were finally at my bus stop. I emptied the money from my pockets into the stranger's hand. It wasn't much but it was all I had.
The strangers could have lead me anywhere. Anything could of happened. I was so grateful that the right thing happened- I made it home safe and sound.
I'm glad that there are good people out there.
I was alone on a local bus heading back home from a day of touring Bangalore. I had only a memory of the location that I needed to get off at. It didn't help that it was getting dark and monsoon rain was starting to pour. The kind gentleman that instructed me to get on that particular bus also partnered me with a stranger who claimed he was getting off at my stop. I only had the kind gentleman's phone number written on a napkin in my pocket but I had no cell phone. For whatever reason I wasn't concerned that the stranger did not speak any English. I had to trust him.
I looked at my watch -- 5:30pm. I was told that I would arrive at my stop at 7:30pm due to the very heavy evening traffic. The time passed quickly as I discovered Bangalore (and Indian in general) is fascinating to look at from the bus window. Shortly after 7:00pm the bus stopped in the middle of the road. Apparently the route was blocked and the bus could not get to my stop. The stranger indicated that we needed to get off.
As I exited the bus I began to smile. It was dark, raining, and I had no idea where I was. An adventure was to be had.
I felt I had been on that street before. I felt that we were not too far from my stop. But then again, so many streets looked the same in India and I really had no idea how to get home.
After the bus started down the street the stranger handed his bag to another person and started to run after the bus. I figured he forgot something on the bus and would be back shortly. His friend and I waited for quite some time before the stranger returned with another bag. I guess I was right.
We started to walk. I could only pray that we were going the right direction. It felt right so I was still smiling. I was smiling up until the point that the stranger decided to veer off the main road into a darker street. I understood that he was trying to tell me that it was a shortcut. My stomach started to tremble.
I guess I should have insisted to stick to the main road or I should have phoned the kind gentleman who did speak English. I decided to follow the stranger down the dark road. I figured if he tried anything fishy I could walk back to the main road and make that phone call.
Oh, I forgot to mention I was carrying my camera bag. Throughout my time in India I have carried my camera. Its both a blessing and a curse. I've enjoyed taking lots of photos but without it I would have blended in easier. Aside from my inability to speak the local language, carrying an item of that kind of expense was a surefire indication that I was a foreigner. They knew.
As we walked along the 'shortcut' I forgot the way back to the main street. Dozens of scenarios flashed through my mind. None of them positive.
After a half an hour of walking through dark streets, through fields, through the unknown we came through to another main street. Whew. The strangers pointed the direction in which I should continue walking. I was unconvinced and one of them started walking in that direction. I followed him and fifteen minutes later a huge sigh of relief overcame me. At 7:45pm we were finally at my bus stop. I emptied the money from my pockets into the stranger's hand. It wasn't much but it was all I had.
The strangers could have lead me anywhere. Anything could of happened. I was so grateful that the right thing happened- I made it home safe and sound.
I'm glad that there are good people out there.
Identity of Sir Naipaul
I was napping on a concrete floor during the afternoon. I was in a remote village approximately 250 km from Bangalore in the middle of Bandipur, an Indian National Park. From my perspective the floor seemed to be pressing hard against me, though I felt it should have been the other way around. I decided the feeling was poetic. I was only pushing against myself.
I had just finished reading the beginning of a book 'India: A Wounded Civilization' by VS Naipaul, a Trinidadian born Indian like myself. Reading this book in India is haunting. It really is like reading about me. His account of India mirrors my own experience even though the book was written 32 years ago. He is very critical of the country but the following struck a deep chord within me:
"India is for me a difficult country. It isn't my home and cannot be my home; and yet I cannot reject it or be indifferent to it; I cannot travel only for the sights. I am at once too close and too far."
I decided that I would like to meet Sir Naipaul. I feel that he would be able to tell me about me. He would tell me what its supposed to be like to have lived a life as a Trinidadian born Indian living abroad. He would explain how he coped with appearing to be Indian yet feeling disconnected from India.
From what I hear about Sir Naipaul, he would tell me to be me. His reputation as a Nobel Prize winning author defines him simply and yet completely as V.S. Naipaul. Would he tell me to define myself simply and completely as Rajiv Ramdeo? Perhaps that his solution to having a complex identity and perhaps that is exactly what enables him to be outstanding.
I had just finished reading the beginning of a book 'India: A Wounded Civilization' by VS Naipaul, a Trinidadian born Indian like myself. Reading this book in India is haunting. It really is like reading about me. His account of India mirrors my own experience even though the book was written 32 years ago. He is very critical of the country but the following struck a deep chord within me:
"India is for me a difficult country. It isn't my home and cannot be my home; and yet I cannot reject it or be indifferent to it; I cannot travel only for the sights. I am at once too close and too far."
I decided that I would like to meet Sir Naipaul. I feel that he would be able to tell me about me. He would tell me what its supposed to be like to have lived a life as a Trinidadian born Indian living abroad. He would explain how he coped with appearing to be Indian yet feeling disconnected from India.
From what I hear about Sir Naipaul, he would tell me to be me. His reputation as a Nobel Prize winning author defines him simply and yet completely as V.S. Naipaul. Would he tell me to define myself simply and completely as Rajiv Ramdeo? Perhaps that his solution to having a complex identity and perhaps that is exactly what enables him to be outstanding.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Rocket Man by Elton John
She packed my bags last night pre-flight
Zero hour nine a.m.
And i'm gonna be high as a kite by then
I miss the earth so much i miss my wife
It's lonely out in space
On such a timeless flight
And i think it's gonna be a long long time
Till touch down brings me round again to find
I'm not the man they think i am at home
Oh no no no i'm a rocket man
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone
Mars ain't the kind of place to raise your kids
In fact it's cold as hell
And there's no one there to raise them if you did
And all this science i don't understand
It's just my job five days a week
A rocket man, a rocket man
And i think it's gonna be a long long time...
Saturday, July 5, 2008
An Uncomfortable Tap
Tap tap tap tap. An eerie tapping.
What is that noise? Its a young girl trying to get our attention. She's tapping her fingernails on our car window while we're stuck in traffic. Its dark out and its beginning to rain.
Tap tap tap tap.
What does she want? She's trying to sell us some things made by her family. They are poor. The driver rolls down the window and asks her if she goes to school. Selling items on the road is how her family makes money. Her parents need her to do this for the family. She does not go to school.
This was the third time I felt chills through my body from such tapping.
The last time was on the train from Pune to Bangalore (a 21 hour trip). This little boy with no shirt on and a string for a belt was on his hands and knees on the train floor with a hand broom sweeping all around. He stopped at each row and tapped his hand on the seat to ask for money. If you didn't look at him he still stayed there and tapped louder. Man- that was pretty bad.
The first time was horrible though. It wasn't just a noise. I was in a market in Pune. Toren was shopping for gifts for his family. I felt a prod on my leg. A nudging. I wasn't sure what it was. I looked around to see that it was an old lady in a wheelchair. She was poking my leg with the stub of her arm that was wrapped in a cast. OH MY GOODNESS. That was a VERY uncomfortable feeling.
These people that tap, they are just trying to say "Hey you. You person with money. Look at me! Don't ignore me- Don't ignore the poor!" They force us to face the uncomfortable reality that there are millions of people who must resort to begging. Things need to change.
What is that noise? Its a young girl trying to get our attention. She's tapping her fingernails on our car window while we're stuck in traffic. Its dark out and its beginning to rain.
Tap tap tap tap.
What does she want? She's trying to sell us some things made by her family. They are poor. The driver rolls down the window and asks her if she goes to school. Selling items on the road is how her family makes money. Her parents need her to do this for the family. She does not go to school.
This was the third time I felt chills through my body from such tapping.
The last time was on the train from Pune to Bangalore (a 21 hour trip). This little boy with no shirt on and a string for a belt was on his hands and knees on the train floor with a hand broom sweeping all around. He stopped at each row and tapped his hand on the seat to ask for money. If you didn't look at him he still stayed there and tapped louder. Man- that was pretty bad.
The first time was horrible though. It wasn't just a noise. I was in a market in Pune. Toren was shopping for gifts for his family. I felt a prod on my leg. A nudging. I wasn't sure what it was. I looked around to see that it was an old lady in a wheelchair. She was poking my leg with the stub of her arm that was wrapped in a cast. OH MY GOODNESS. That was a VERY uncomfortable feeling.
These people that tap, they are just trying to say "Hey you. You person with money. Look at me! Don't ignore me- Don't ignore the poor!" They force us to face the uncomfortable reality that there are millions of people who must resort to begging. Things need to change.
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