Category Archives: Uncategorized

The news is reporting delayed shipments of Darjeeling tea, which could cause shortages in the West from Sept until late Nov/early Dec. It should be easy to get now, but stock up in case there are a few lean months ahead!

This delay is due to strikes/”agitation” during the peak of the second tea harvest season (when 40% of the Darjeeling is harvested each year) by the Gorkha Janmukti Morcha. The GJM is a political party that advocates for statehood for Gorkhas. Since the decision to create the Telangana state by carving up Andhra Pradesh back in July, the GJM have been more forceful in their… civil disobedience. They want statehood for “Gorkhaland” — Darjeeling, Siliguri Terai and Dooars — just like Telangana.

The Indian tea exporters fear that the Napalese will use this delay and potential shortage to steal market share…. So if you a fan of the Darjeeling, stock up and stay true!

Orisha (a coastal state in north eastern India) is lovely this time of year -the fields are green, the rivers full and everything looks lush. Here are some photos of the countryside:

And here’s the “modern” city of Bhubaneswar, designed by a German city planner after independence:

Okay, “trash” can be both a noun and a verb (trashes, trashed, trashing), so why not “rubbish”? Although it did strike me as odd when I read it as a headline in today’s New Indian Express newspaper.

The internets seem to agree rubbish used as a verb is informal or “British slang.”

PS I realise the risk in posting any grammar comments given the typos and errors throughout my own blog. Yes, this is the pot calling the kettle black.

Okay, “trash” can be both a noun and a verb (trashes, trashed, trashing), so why not “rubbish”? Although it did strike me as odd when I read it as a headline in today’s New Indian Express newspaper.

The internets seem to agree rubbish used as a verb is informal or “British slang.”

PS I realise the risk in posting any grammar comments given the typos and errors throughout my own blog. Yes, this is the pot calling the kettle black.

There is a good article in the NY Times about some recent events in India: “A Summer of Troubles Saps India’s Sense of Confidence” From what I see, it seems to be a fair summary of the factual incidents* cited, although I am no where near qualified to weigh in on the analyst opinions.

However, to me this article has one glaring omission: the tragety in Uttarakhand in June 16 (and afterward), aka “The Himalayan Tsunami” or what I’ll forever think of as India’s Katrina. 5,700 people presumed dead. Over 110,000 people evacuated after the disaster –an incredible % by helicopter, since the roads washed away and left much of the terrain otherwise inaccessible. If this doesn’t ring a bell, Google it; it seems the international press did a crap job covering Uttarakhand based on my conversations with friends in the US & UK.

The lack of any sort of disaster planning in this area widely know for religious pilgrimages in a naturally flood-prone river valley set deep in the mountains boggles the mind… It was such a popular pilgrimage that everyone presumed it would be safe. It is indicative of so many missed opportunities to prevent the accurately forecasted disaster. Meanwhile it ended up a literal death trap and fodder for show-off politicians who couldn’t get out of their own way in hampering rescue efforts (seriously: 2 politicians were actually filmed having a shoving match at an airport trying to get to rescued victims –and the photo op– first). It is so heartbreaking & tragic… And such a strong symbol of government** failing its people. From my prospective, Uttarakhand was huge news and a real tragedy that seemed to occupy — and shake — the national consciousness for weeks if not months. It certainly warranted mention in the article.

*Although I do believe everything the article cited occurred in Monsoon season rather than Summer… But I am learning the 6 seasons myself, so I won’t quibble.

**Clearly, colossal government failures happen elsewhere, too — Katrina in the US, on-going Ferry disasters in the Philippines, etc. I am just saying that in the context of this article, the author should have included Uttarakhand because it seems to have had a profound impact and, if nothing else, set the tone for the other incidents mentioned…

I visited the state library over the weekend. It’s a rather distinctive, round red building that I see whenever I drive through Cubbon Park (the “Central Park” of Bangalore). I went to take a look.

It is lovely but clearly suffering from humidity issues as there in no A/C: the vast majority of the collection has been rebound (in a drab brown that reminds me of the brown paper bag book covers we used in high school) and the laminate “wood” floor (presumably from the renovation in 2007) is peeling and buckling. But if you look up, it is glorious — soaring ceilings that remind scent of a ships hull. The library has tons of seating and during my weekend visit, it was filled with people –and perfectly quiet. A real oasis of calm in the city.

There are books in English, Hindi, Kannada (the primary local language of this state) and others I could not recognise. Many are mixed into the main collection, but there was also a special section for Kannada literature and poetry. There were no DVDs or video games that I could see.

It does not appear that you can sign books out, so I opted not to bother with the paperwork required to become a member. (The Raj left a paperwork legacy that is truly incredible… and which ALWAYS requires a passport photo or 3!)

For those of you who listened to my rants about the demise if the Dewey Decimal at Nyack Library, you’ll appreciate this twist of fate: the State Library has over 250,000 books (or 2.5 lakhs in local lingo), but no catalogue!

A taste of home for Sunday dinner: shrimp etoufee. I was able to find everything needed, although the celery was quite a challenge. Celery does not seem to be a common ingredient in India; I’ve only found it at a few stores (and it is comparatively more expensive than you’d expect). In fact, the etoufee was supposed to be Saturday night dinner, but we had a minor celery setback…

I bought celery and I started chopping it, but I had to step away to deal with something. In the meantime, my maid/cook — in a misguided attempt to be helpful — threw out the “sticks”, as she called the stalks. But she did set aside the leaves in a bowl. Sigh. I had to wait until I could get back to the fancy grocery to pick up more celery, because I was not about to make Cajun food missing 1/3 of the Trinity! It was worth the wait 😉

PS My new Indian cookbook explains that the Indian Trinity is garlic, ginger & onion.

To be honest, I don’t know if that is the proper greeting. However, today is Varamahalakshmi Vratha — a festival day, when married women seek favors from Lakshmi for their families.

Varamahalakshmi Vratha is a “devi” or goddess day, in honor of Mahalakshmi — the Great Lakshmi. I though Lakshmi was the goddess of money & fortune. Apparently, she’s the goddess of prosperity in all regards — material, spiritual, knowledge, etc. — not just money. (I confess, I was suffering under a stereotypically American Capitalist misconception!) AND she’s the embodiment of Love — another Aphrodite. (I acknowledge the mixed metaphor.) She’s the “consort” of Vishu and you can often see her image in idols and carvings at his temples.
Here’s the happy couple, which I photographed at Somnathapur:

Here’s a relief of her between elephants, seated on a lotus, which I photographed at Gomatesvara:

Mahalakshmi will shower “varas” or boons on those who observe Varamahalakshmi Vratha on the full moon day of Shravana (um, today, I guess). According to religious text (i.e., the Skanda Purana), Lord Shiva stressed the importance of Varamahalakshmi Vratha to his wife Parvathi. This is an especially popular festival in Southern India, where I live. I am told ladies clean their homes, take special baths (Where? There are no bath-tubs in most Indian homes!), get dolled up in their jewels and worship idols of Mahalakshmi — including images that people make from coconut and turmeric paste — by chanting and saying her “auspicious names.” She has 108 such names, and collectively the chanted list is called “Lakshmi Ashtottara Shatanamam.” I found a whole range of people chanting her names on-line (since I have no idol of my own and I don’t know the chant, this is as close as I’m getting today): from this clear, sweet voiced lady to these manic priests drowning the idol in flowers. As the links show, the images of Mahalakshmi are decorated over-the-top with flowers, jewels, etc.
City Market Wholesaler (last week)

C was telling me about this festival and he cautioned me about the inevitable shortage of flowers that would result. As C predicted, the “Times of India” has reported a “soaring” demand for flowers and fruits. That City Market I visited last week, with the wholesalers, well it reportedly sold out of flowers — hard to imagine! And that despite the flower price gouging that is known to occur in the run up to festivals. The Jasmine I normally buy for Rs.10 a “hand” was being sold for Rs. 35! Needless to say, I am currently jasmine-less. I figured it mattered more to others this week so I opted out of the flower-buying insanity. Not to mention, the Gerber daises I got last Friday are still going strong (albeit never as fragrant as the Jasmine).

I think I need to go put some jewelry on now… you know, to honor Lakshmi and all because my family could use some varas!

Today is Independence Day, aka “I-day”! It is the 67th anniversary of India’s freedom from the British Raj. For so ancient a culture to be such a young country is hard to wrap your head around. Cheers to young (ish) democracy!

By the time I turned on the TV news around 7:30am, the Prime Minister was already giving his I-day speech from the Red Fort in Delhi. It sounded a lot like a state-of-the-union address: percent economic growth, food security initiatives, warnings to Pakistan, etc. As the camera panned the audience, you could see all the troops at attention; a section of the audience dressed in all white, all green, and all orange, arranged like the flag; and various dignitaries in different states of alertness, ranging from rapt to asleep. (Seriously, if you are one of the only white dudes in the audience, and you’re important enough that your presence is required at the Capitol’s I-day celebration, then PLEASE do not fall asleep –it’s not a good look on national news! Your bright whiteness and western suit make you jump off the screen among the sea of Indians, you HD-sleepyhead!)

This morning I took the metro to Field Marshal Manekshaw Parade grounds to see how Bangalore celebrates. (Since it’s a holiday, C has the day off!) I read in the paper that it was best to arrive early to get through the security checkpoints and secure a seat in the public grand stand. Public seating seemed to be my only option since I am not a Freedom Fighter (!!!), veteran, VIP, or VVIP (seriously, VVIP is a real category! Not just something made up by a Kardashian!!). It was standing room only once I got there.

When I arrived things had already kicked off and the grounds were filled with children/pre-teens in military like uniforms. Some wore sashes with school names and others seemed to be boy and girl guides (boy scouts & girl scouts). Those poor kids ended up standing around for over an hour, although we had good weather — overcast and slightly cool.

Next came speeches, all building to the highly anticipated 9am raising of the “tricolor” (national flag) by Karnataka Chief Minister (Governor) K. Siddaramaiah whilst an IAF helicopter was supposed to shower the crowd with flower petals. The speeches seemed increasingly passionate, the last speaker before the Chief Minister included some sort of call-back/chant and the crowd took the bait and hollered back enthusiastically. Most of this was in the local language, Kannada, so I don’t know what they were saying but it generated a lot of good energy. Then the MC came over the speakers to introduce the Chief Minister… but wait, no. He said that we were awaiting the arrival of the Chief Minister. And everyone sat back down. And waited. Seriously, the whole program came to a grinding halt. Talk about a buzz kill! (I do love that no one actually said the Cheif Minister was “late” — that phrase was artistically avoided.)

Finally, he arrived. (How can you be late when petals are to be dropped from a helicopter!?!?!) He started to raise the tricolour then there was a grand pause and the delayed helicopter arrived. The crowd cheered insanely! The helicopter dropped the petals like a fire fighting helicopter drops water: one giant bucketful. And since the grandstands were covered with cloth roofs, none of the petals actually reached the crowds. It was rather anticlimactic (although I confess I may have had unrealistically high hopes for the airborne petals!).

Next the Chief Minister inspected the colour guard & kids from a pope-mobile-like-vehicle. Then he gave a 45min+ speech. This was the CM in the pope-mobile as he got close to our section:

After that there was a lot of goose-stepping by the troops and entertainment (signing, dancing, etc.) from school kids. I had bailed out during the speech, but that allowed me to get some good photos from the metro:

While crackers (fireworks) are used for lots of occasions in India, they are not associated with I-day here. Also, there are no barbeques or picnics. All in all, I’d compare it to a Soviet-era May Day (with more people, less weapons) crossed with a US-style Memorial Day, but all in all very different from July 4th.

I noted the rousing patriotism expressed through marketing– e.g., I-day themed TV commercials, newspaper ads, even this ground art outside a local restaurant:

Jai Hind!

Bangalore is home to many non-natives – both domestic and international “expats,” if you will. The IT industry draws people from all over India (and the world) here for work. When I first moved here, I joked that no one I meet was actually from Bangalore – everyone moved here from somewhere else. And everyone is very nostalgic about their home city/village: the food (almost always the first and foremost things people talk about from home), family left behind, the pace of life (faster or slower than B’lore) and the climate.

I was speaking to someone from Kolkata (formerly, Calcutta) who was talking about how great their weather was – none of the same/same constant temperatures of B’lore but rather all six seasons. Six? Six (6) seasons?

Apparently, the six seasons are: (1) spring, (2) summer, (3) monsoon, (4) pre-fall (aka “early fall” or “fall”, depending on tthe translation), (5) fall (aka, “late fall” or “pre-winter”) and (6) winter. I crossed checked this new-found knowledge with others from Kolkata, because I was still a little suspicious. It appears to be true. When I asked, one lady waxed poetic about how the skies of pre-fall are materially different from the fall skies – entirely different types of clouds and quality of light; “the air itself changes” between pre-fall and fall. Pre-fall is apparently a very short “bridge” season, but it is a welcome relief after the heat and wet of the monsoon season. The pre-fall enthusiast also explained to me that it was akin to what the Americans call “Indian Summers” [as in Native Americans] – but a more reliable, proper season, rather than a random occurrence. I found that description to be the most helpful.

I was told at a cocktail party that a famous Indian poet was rumored to have had 6 houses in India, one located in the “perfect” spot to epitomize each season. Reportedly, the poet could visit each home and draw inspiration from nature at her best. Sadly, I cannot recall the name of the poet. (Tagore? Whenever someone mentions an Indian poet at a cocktail party, it’s often Tagore….) I tried to see if the internets knew about this seasonal poet house situation, but they proved to be ill informed on this matter. (Too poetic for such a mere binary world, I guess!) Thus, I cannot confirm the cocktail-fueled rumor. But it is a nice thought.