SAINT KV & SAINT CHARU - THE NEW MISSIONARIES

Scenario: Indian meeting Indian.

Nina: Hi I am Nina - nice to meet you. This is my husband R.

Great, so you studied in Saint Patricks, I am from your sister school Loreto Convent.

R: Hey ... And I am from Saint KV.

My husband is from a public school in Delhi - Kendriya Vidyalay (KV) - actually a great chain of schools managed by the central government. Lately however he has started referring to his school as Saint KV! Missionary complex?

Was speaking to a Xavarian friend the other day (studied from Saint Xaviers, Calcutta), and he too had a story. During his college days in India, the boys from Saint Xaviers were attending a fest in a state sponsored college. On being approached by a group of boys, the Xavarians introduced themselves. And immediately, the group that had approached them said that they were from Saint Charu - Charuchandra College, Calcutta!

The gaping fish and baby goat

On our visit to India last summer, word got around that Mia likes fish and Anna prefers chicken and goat curry. And, every home they visited, aunts, uncles, grandmas, great grandmas..... they were lovingly served with their favorites. In a few days though Mia and Anna were ready to become true vegans.

An aunt might have been the reason.

She had prepared several courses of fish for Mia, and even saved for her the prized fish head - a bit on the gigantic side. As Mia sat at the table and looked at the gaping head swimming in gravy with eyes in a glazed stare, she had a hard time keeping her snacks in. And then Aunt N sat next to Mia and gave her a hug. She said that the curry was delicious as the fish was taking in great gulps of air in the basket when uncle had it all chopped up. The blood was clean and red. Tear drops rolled down the face of my 9 year old who was and still is in love with the little mermaid and her flounder friend.

The same story was repeated at my uncle's home, this time with the goat and Anna. Apparently the goat was a baby, all soft and tender (perhaps trotting daintily on green pastures - why they skip this part I will never know) and Anna did not touch any kind of meat in India for the rest of her stay.

When The Panda Of Lord Jagannath Came Calling

The Panda of Lord Jaggannath met us at the Mayfair Resort the day we arrived in Puri. He was dressed in white Kurta Pajama (pants and tunic), presented us with a calling card, a gentleman and a true professional.

The next morning he was waiting for us at the reception of the Mayfair Resort at 8:00 a.m. sharp. Unfortunately we were late as some members of the family were enjoying the delicious complimentary breakfast served on the airy terrace overlooking the sea; being on a fast I was embarrassed by this display of the stretchable time but Bulu Panda brushed aside my apologies. And as we waited in the reception for the rest of my family, he narrated the following story.

When the idol of Lord Jagannath was commissioned by the monarch of Puri, the solitary artisan selected for the task, requested that no one be allowed to enter his workshop in the temple till the project was completed. But the king and his wife, with typical human impatience forced open the door wherein the artisan vanished into thin air and the idol of Lord Jagannath was left incomplete. Moral: haste makes waste, let the family eat in peace.

On our way to the 11th century temple, we asked Bulu Panda to accompany us on the rented three wheeler (it's called auto-rickshaw or just auto in India), but with a humble smile he pointed at his motorcycle. I have nothing against motorcycles but somewhere in my backward mind I failed to associate a man of god zooming on a motorbike. And along the way I saw other Pandas wearing Dhotis flying by on their "mobikes". Now, if you think about it, actually an easy and practical way of commuting to work. Cheers for Harley Davidson and it's lesser known brothers and sisters!

On one of my earlier visits to the temple as a child, my uncle had refused to pay for the services of a Panda, and was cursed with "tokay jomay libay"/ "the god of death will claim you". His answer was: "Tokay-o libay ekdin, charibay naa"/ "the god of death will also claim you one day, no reprieve". However, Bulu Panda being a notch modern than some of the other Pandas, gave us a memorable tour of the temple, explaining the history, architectural details and some of the modern aspects. Incidentally the Sun-God of Konarak is now housed in the Jagannath temple, and where the other deities are all barefoot, the Sun-God dorns a pair of high boots.

Now, if you ever visit Puri for the sake of Lord Jagannath, or maybe the architectural stuff , or even for the pristine beaches; and if you need the services of a Panda, do call Bulu Panda for a comprehensive tour of the temple. His number is on the scanned image of the calling card.

But even inside the awe inspiring temple only sheer agility will help you dodge the sticks that some of the other pandas crack on your head (blessing??? - I am not sure why). And my 9 year old was thrilled to see the scores of monkeys, some even cradling babies hanging from the high ledges of the temple.

Jai Baba Jagannath!

An American Bengali's car ride in Kolkata ..... Returning after 14 yrs to the country of my birth

Friends had predicted that India would come as a shock …. after a gap of 14 years. However things were more or less the same, except for the frequent traffic jams, more malls and access to all things foreign, sushi, and loads of flyover/ over-bridges.

In Kolkata, the cars or taxis lacked side mirrors or had them folded…like out of sight. Actually nobody needed them as our driver patiently explained, when I opened up a folded side mirror. In the absence of lanes, and in the presence of these super expert drivers, side mirrors were obsolete items, delicate appendages that were sure to crack if another vehicle squeezed by.

After numerous roller-coaster rides, I have now developed a healthy respect for all Kolkata drivers. No amount of squirming in my seat or a heightened pulse helped me as our car went through a single road without lanes but accommodating six vehicles in a row. Our driver took us through bumpy shortcuts where I prayed to mighty heaven for a second chance at life; and my heart tried to leap out on a sharp “U” turn in a one-way road, an amazing effort to bypass traffic, and expertly dodging all speeding vehicles hurtling towards us.

“Praise Him with ringing cymbals, praise him with crashing cymbals, let every living creature praise the Lord”.

And He did indeed preserve me, as He preserved the young man on a bicycle, and that scraggy dog trotting by the road side, and the tiny child on a motorcycle, without a helmet, clutching on to his daddy's shirt.

Realization and fact - all Kolkata drivers can drive anywhere in the world and driving in Manhattan is a piece of cake for them. Moreover they could even help James Bond maneuver his mind-blowing escapades in a four wheeler.

Admiration apart, the thing that cheers me up after each car ride is the sondesh (Bengali sweet delicacy - yessir I have this sweet tooth!) and a glass of chilled water with which Maa greets me. In the U.S., I let myself in with a key, tired after endless driving and the back and forth stuff, grab a glass of water and get on with the chores. Here, Maa’s smile brings a smile in return, and literally the floodgates of my smile-chest open. So what if the ride has aspects of a roller-coaster? Hurray for our drivers, the lost side mirrors and the Bengali sondesh. I sure am enjoying the summery monsoon here in Kolkata. Love the way the cars swoosh through the knee high waters.

“CHEERS DADA”

P.S. But please do not underestimate the Delhi drivers. On a jammed road, as we patiently waited in our car, I saw some smart autos speeding by on the sidewalk, followed by equally smart motorbikes. Say, how come this idea did not strike you .... putting the sidewalk to good use?:)

Comfort In Overseas Communication

Mom, Nick walked today.......his first steps,... Mia did good at school...... Anna has grown an inch.....Mom, I feel lousy.....tired of doing things on my own, he works such long hours....Hey Dad, howz the movie?..... I loved it...yes, yes, I am keeping up the exercise routine..... Mom, "R" took me out for a surprise lunch today...

And always there's that voice on the other side of the telephone, soothing....encouraging...sharing my sorrows and joys, asking me if I had breakfast...celebrating our little triumphs....

The caring voices .... thousands of miles away, but a part of my daily life here in the States. The voices will always be there - right? I cannot imagine a routine without them.

American Born Confused Desi? - Never!

Most Bengalis like other first generation immigrant families live in a cocoon. From time to time we emerge from the fuzz to interact with friends and people from other cultures .... and then re-enter the familiar cocoon. A vacation in India, some travelling, then back to the states and our cocoon..…it is as if we have always lived here….. with the very same people.

It’s a world within a world. Friendship, politics, little hurts, make-ups, celebrating holidays and milestones, elaborate Bengali meals when the families meet…..all within the cocoon….carrying on a lifestyle that originated in our homes in India. Just for the first generation Bengalis though, the second generation usually makes the outside world their primary home.

Some folks in India, refer to our kids as American-born-confused-desi (desi: ethnic..Indian from India!). But I have yet to observe any confusion whatever in the second generation about their identity. These amazingly resilient kids know exactly who they are. And they are not suspended somewhere in the middle of two clashing cultures as commonly perceived back home. Instead, they have assimilated both ways of life into one hell of a smoothie, the best of both worlds!