Desicritics Category: Culture: Holidays and Observances

Cut Loose All The Flying Kites

Halima Khan — Fri, 5 Mar 2010 00:09:59 EST

Basant, a tradition in the sub-continent especially in the more Punjabi sectors has been under the wire for a while now. Every year when it is time for flowers to bloom and for spring to make its grand long awaited entrance unconsciously Basant is all everyone is thinking about. Many understand why the government deems it necessary to wage this war against the harmless kite, but everyone still wants it.

Raza Rumi in ‘Sad news: Kite-flying to stay banned’ on Lahore Nama gives a new enlightened feeling to this prevailing ban:

“Hope that this festival will come back to Lahore. We strongly protest against this policy decision. Pakistan cannot be made a safe haven for roaming terrorists and suicide bombers while the peaceful citizens are denied the opportunity to celebrate a festival that is so deeply a part of our culture.”

The News, daily newspaper in Pakistan, reports how the Police force is all set to make sure violation of this ban does not go unnoticed or unpunished. On the other hand Daily Times, another English daily in Pakistan, reports how 75% population of Punjab, the hub of basant celebrations, wants basant. But the government and the judiciary does not plan to give in to the consensus of the masses.

Basant Ban by Hamza Ahmed Qureshi reads:

“The hue and cry raised by a certain section of the society on the recent banning of Basant by the Lahore High Court compels me to bring forward my point of view.

These people mourn for the loss of a cultural event which attracted thousands of foreigners from all over the world. In the prevailing geopolitical situation, I hardly think that a bunch of colorful kites would be able to lure an already fear stricken foreigner to a death trap. Moreover this cultural loss might be a matter of concern for a handful of socialites and five star hotels but not for the common man.”

Sir, we can’t control this. “Then ban it” by Momekh does not have much reason to disagree with the general feeling when he blatantly states:

“The ban on basant is silly. Loss of life and loss of the ever-so-present WAPDA supply are not reasons at all. And here’s why: the loss of life is not because the kite-flying itself is dangerous. Kite-flying has been around for quite some time.”

However Momekh kindly goes on to explain a little on what made basant a controversial matter. Hence clarifying the real issue the authorities should be addressing instead of canceling an event so looked forward.

“The murderous streak now automatically tagged with basant itself, has been introduced through the development of stronger string. A lot of people think that it is the razor-like solution that the string is soaked in that causes the string to be a knife-on-the-loose. Although the sharpness is part of the reason, the main reason is that the string itself is very strong. There was a time, I remember, when I was able to snap the string by pulling on it with both hands. It is a typical way of checking a string’s strength – tug at it and see when it breaks. But recently, I would notice that it has become harder and harder to just ’snap’ the string. You would have to resort to either some serious pulling or just use to teeth to sever the string. It is the combination of ultra-strong string with razor-sharp solution (a.k.a. manja) that makes the string a killer.”

According to a local news source if the government set some rules and regulations which could be outlined for this cultural and traditional event just maybe entertainment could for once not be made a matter of conflict. However in the meanwhile the ban is very much there. The same news source maintained that DCO Lahore Sajjad Bhutta held that kite flying would not be permissible even at the Governor House. In conversation with media persons here on Friday, DCO Lahore said that government would ensure the ban on kites flying, if any one would violate the ban, government would take strict action against him and about Rs.100, 000/- would be fined for violators of ban.

Photography Times: Seagull in Flight

Vidhya — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 00:51:23 EST

Although not as simple as it sounds, photography is all about being at the right time, at the right place and a steady hand. This photograph of a flying Seagull showed me how hard that could be.

It was Thanksgiving, and I was visiting South Padre Island, strolling on the beaches of the Gulf of Mexico. The beach wasn’t crowded, but the hundreds of Seagulls made up for it. Camera in hand, I walked across the waters looking for the best position to catch shots of the Seagulls. I stood on Picnic benches, sat over an abandoned fishing boat, stood deep inside the waves, knelt on the white sands, all in an attempt to capture that ideal shot I had pictured in mind – a flock of Seagulls just about taking off a feet or two from the ground.

If finding the right place was tough, the tougher part was waiting for the Seagulls to fly as a flock. It was cute watching the Seagulls walk on their two little feet, but heck, I wanted them to fly. Fly, you birdie!

That was a long wait. There were a few moments, when it seemed the birds were about to take off, whilst I kept adjusting the aperture and the shutter speed and kept snapping one click after another. But none of them ever got off the tarmac.

It happened at the moment I went walking into the waves, trying to get closer to the birds. The closer I moved the farther the birds went. Anticipating a few to fly quickly, I increased the shutter speed to 1/1600 seconds. The high speed is generally good enough to freeze any object in a fast motion. It was at that very instant when one of the birdies, took off from its walk and flew towards me. Within the next second, my eyes went peeping into the Viewfinder to track the bird down, followed its flight for the next second and when it was right over my head, snapped three consecutive shots in a row.

And thus came into existence – the Seagull in Flight. I never managed the shot of a flock of Seagulls taking off – the one I originally set out to capture. Maybe that’ll happen another day, another time, and hopefully an equally steady hand.

Aperture: f/6.3
Focal Length: 90mm
ISO: 400
Shutter: 1/1600 sec
Camera: NIKON D90

Photo Essay: Hotel Russell in London

Dr Bhaskar Dasgupta — Mon, 8 Feb 2010 00:02:03 EST

In my opinion this is a terracotta monstrosity. The colour jumps out and beats you up as soon as you heave to sighting distance. Something that should be restricted to tiles and pots has transmogrified into this giant crenulated, over engineered, full of nooks and crannies and bits hanging off building. As I described it to my sister, this is a Gothic monstrosity which seems to be a combination of a mad Ludwig Castle, the Lubyanka Prison and the Adams Family Mansion. As it so happens, the building with about 380 rooms was constructed in 1898 by the same firm which was also involved in the building of the Titanic. I am surprised that this building hasn't sunk as well, but apparently the ballroom has similar fittings as that of the Titanic. I did not get a chance to go inside the hotel, but from outside, I think it looks really weird. The architect was Charles Fitzroy Doll. It was bomb damaged during the second world war, but has been restored now. But enough of history, lets get to the photographs.

As you come around the exit of Russell Square Tube Station and then turn left to go to the British Museum, your eyes are drawn to this Lubyanka Prison look. This is the back end of the hotel and I ask you, doesnt this look like a prison? All manky, leprous, with mould growing and worse – green slimy moss hanging off the ledges. At the far end, you can see a square tower, apparently this was modelled after Italian plaza towers. It is just bizarre to see this strange building with various bits almost like bolted on.

You walk on and see one of the side entrances. It has all kinds of strange stuff hanging off it. The panel above the arch says Russell Rooms and the date 18 on the left column and 98 on the right, meaning that this was constructed in 1898.

Very sad looking cherubs on the left and a strange looking sculpture on the right. Looks like a cherub emerging from an exploded sea shell.

Then you keep on walking and your eyes fall on this strange balcony with slender columns with hardly any space between the columns and the wall inside. So it will be almost impossible to walk on that balcony. So is this for the window washers? Surely it's an overkill to have this over sculpted nonsense? The balcony also has a frieze running on the top with shields representing various countries.

By this time you have come to the corner of Bernard Street and Russell Square and you notice a distinct change in the building - the architecture changes, the stone changes, the silhouette changes, everything changes. It is almost like somebody else made the corner, no continuity at all.
Turn the corner and you see the silly balcony extending down the front.

Here’s the front of the Hotel. Now I ask you. Just look at it. It has square frontage, it has round frontage, it has roundels, it has ledges, it has statues, it has shields, it has a balcony, it has round bright green copper triangular Dutch roofs, it has French chateau triangular roofs on the side and then it has couple of limp flags hanging. Welcoming? I think it is about as welcoming as a dank dripping cave in Siberia.

Out of the blue (or terracotta even), there are four statues of four British Queens, sculpted by Henry Charles Fehr, looking glumly down at the street and at the guests who are entering the hotel. Now why on earth would you suddenly hoist these up to look down on your guests? I have no idea. It is not like they stayed at this place or they will be entertaining the guests or anything like that. Very bizarre. And then besides the dirty and dusty look, they are covered with anti pigeon mesh nets, which makes them look even more jaundiced and miserable.

This is at the top of the arch. Its a representation of the Royal Coat of Arms of the United Kingdom with a lion and a unicorn.

The top of the arch has a representation of the shield itself with a bunch of supine lions. Although why on earth are the lions and unicorns being rude and sticking out their tongues I dont understand.

The row of shields which represent various countries continues around the front as well and were designed by W.J Neatby although they are now a bit ragged and miserable. Plus I am sure most of the nations represented would have long since gone or merged or something after the series of wars, boundary and political system changes in the 20th century.

Keep on walking to the end and peek around expecting things to get better, but they do not. Same old. Same old boring miserable looking building. With the juxtaposition of the winter trees, it really really looks gloomy.

See the perspective? its dark, dingy, over engineered, small windows, and just looks hugely gothic and ghostly.
Is that the end of surprises? Nope, there are four busts of British Prime Ministers along a line. Now why on earth would you have something like this? Very strange. So would I stay in this place? No way, Jose. But I never thought that I will hate a building, but this comes close to it.
Here is the full slide show

Do You Believe in Santa?

rads — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 08:44:16 EST

In my opinion, Religion is and should be personal. For the longest time, religion was confused and mingled with rituals, and I did not particularly care for the religious aspect of it, as I'd rather be left alone than to follow the numerous strictures and disciplines that the rituals dictated. I learned to separate the two after a bit of thinking and I vividly remember 9th grade summer being quite the enlightening one. Fortunately for me, I landed in a family that subscribed to my views to a large extent. Letting me be and decide what and how I treated God and allowed His presence into the family, was and will always be the grandest right given to me as a daughter-in-law.

I studied in a Catholic institution all the way. From Kindergarten (UKG) to 12th grade. I wore the same white uniform with red tie, white canvas shoes, and with red ribbons in my hair from 1st class to 12th class. All school mornings started with school assembly, prayers and all lunch breaks ended with "O Father in Heaven".

I have attended mass on many occasions while in high school (6th grade to 12th). The Chapel's 2nd bench on the right of the altar has felt all possible expressions a teenager could possibly feel. Kneeling at the pew numerous times to look up at the Holy Cross, I've spoken with God and imagined His comforting reciprocation that my imagination could dream up. I wonder sometimes if that's where my brain has synapsed all those dialogs and alleys of possibilities that I now use in my words all around? But, I digress, so my prayers pretty much followed either one of the paths:

Exams

Freedom

Not necessarily one relating to the other or following the other, but completely and mutually exclusive. I did rather well in my exams(for the amount of time I spent time with my class notes, I just paid attention in class and daydreamed the rest of the time), so there was no need to escape from them. Freedom from the binds, rules, regulations, customs, traditions and expectations. Sometimes even God is forced to give up and even He can't do much once we are born humans I suppose.

Oh well.

So, when I was asked the question "Do you believe in Santa? Or when did you stop believing in Santa?" I obviously couldn't really answer the question, since we never really celebrated Christmas, except for going to mass along with my other catholic friends at school. There was always the lone star that hung in my neighbor's front porch, and the carols that got broadcast over the TV and the PA system down the road.

The Holidays and Christmas took on a new meaning when I got my first 5 foot Christmas tree in a box at Brico in Brussels, in the cold rainy winter of '93. I spent all weekend setting it up in the apartment near the large life size windows that overlooked the street 3 floors below. Novel good times, extending to buy a gift for the husband while tracking the tram down and venturing out by myself armed with my rusty French vocabulary and the map. Europe is so much more beautiful, festive and commercial-free than US is when it comes to the holidays. The spirit truly touches and fills the unexpected stranger's heart.

My children knew at different times that Santa really doesn't exist in the sense that he may or may not exist, but surely the person who gets you the gifts are your parents/uncles/friends. Fortunately for me, and I am unclear at this point how or even if either the husband or I ever consciously went about directing the train of thought, but my children have never really been gift-greedy, or have craved or wanted any particular thing. No, it is not indifference or irreverence that I speak of, it is the subdued acceptance of whatever that comes their way. On occasion it has caused a bit of dilemma on what to get them, and we take our chances. As with chances, the probability has always been 50% and that has indeed been the case, wherein certain boxes are never really opened, and the kids themselves offer it to be given away to the charitable organizations that we support on a rotating basis.

However, somehow giving's always been easier, or more natural. What one has, one gives. Warm apple cider to the carolers, the box of brand new legos we don't use anymore, to hardly used woollen jackets, to the teachers who don't teach them anymore, and to the friends who are more family than family is.

To give something and see the person's face light up, in surprise, in happiness, even puzzled on occasion, but always pleasant, is receiving.

I had earlier written about "giving" and how it comes naturally to a few. Whether we do it because it's expected of us or because we want to give, the nature of the act is expansive in its reach. By giving, one touches the person's heart, in an intimate way that drives a special and singularly private conversation and bond between the two. What happens after is irrelevant, but at that moment, it is precious and sacred even. A graciousness that can heal as much as bring on a heady giddiness, changing perspectives on the possibilities out there, to create new ripples in a quiet mind.

I don't receive very much. I've stopped thinking about why or if am worthy of it. It didn't matter for a very long time, as I really have very few wants. It's been a herculean task to name something, when someone on teh rare occasion asks me "what do you want?" I am not sure if it's perceived as a sign of low desire, or of exaggerated independence, or even maybe a snobbishness. It is none of the above. Perhaps I am not used to being asked, maybe my brain cannot visualize into artifacts of whatever my desire is. I am not above it all, and am by no means a content Buddha. I am a raw human being, a full blooded woman, and a child at heart, full of unspoken wishes, wants, most of simple in nature and of low monetary value. It's the small things that create the happiest of moments. Yet, somehow, to verbalize them has been impossible.

I am a giver, and I give in a selfish way. The kind that gives me more pleasure and the only return I expect is for them to share the excitement with me. Friday saw me standing in line at the PO (automated center, what with the snowstorm holing us in for the full weekend) for an hour (there's a longer painful story) to pack a bag of Belgian chocolates, some boorelu and a sketch I drew. My only hope is that it is received with as much happiness as was put into it.

So when I signed up to do Filmi Secret Santa at Beth's, I was excited about the whole concept of playing the role of "secret santa". Needless to say, it didn't dawn on me that I was also going to be at the receiving end of another "secret santa", until I got a youtube video of a Belly-dancing number as a surprise! It took me by surprise and so strongly, that I laughed and laughed heartily. Since then, I have gotten 2 more little surprises (gifts) in my inbox, and I am thrown into hysterical happiness. They aren't grand or personal, but there is thought in them, and there is this excitement of getting a surprise that has taken me over!

Now I know, how it feels to be at the receiving end of surprises and little thoughtful gifts. It's addictive. The happiness, it's addictive. How fortunate the pampered are?!

So now you see, when someone asks me "do you believe in Santa?" - I am going to say - "Yes, I do".

Santa isn't this one jolly round old man from the North Pole, that's just a symbol. Santa's in each of us. I am a Santa to someone, and my Santa sends me little links and pictures, through an anonymous email id, and each of us have played the role of Santa to someone dear and someone far off, a stranger too.

At the end of the day, Santa is that embodiment of giving in each of us when we reach out to another. Whose Santa are you gonna be these holidays?

Bad News at My Doorstep - Surprises After a Target Shoot

Ruvy — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 08:26:50 EST

A couple of weeks ago, I got a call at night. The conversation was in Hebrew but since most of you reading are not familiar with the language....

"Ruvy?" The fellow sounded familiar, but I couldn't place him.

"Yes?" I waited.

"Ruvy, we have target practice scheduled for next week. You have a choice between Monday the 7th and Wednesday the 9th."

I sighed. I really didn't need this. The target practice was to make sure I could still carry the M16 I use on guard duty for the village - which is now, for me, the effort to stay awake in a patrol truck between 02:00 and 05:00 in the wee hours of the morning. If I didn't go, I wouldn't be able to carry the weapon or go on patrol, and another 250 shekels would be added to my monthly taxes to the village of Ma'ale Levona. When I get rich, I won't care. In the meantime, I go on patrol.

I turned all this over in my head. I was busy on Monday. I had a meeting in Jerusalem to try to figure out what my oldest son, who is leaving high school, would do next year. On Wednesday, we was supposed to be in the south of the country for "parents day" at the pre-military academy our younger son is attending.

"Nu, Ruvy? What should I put you down for? Monday or Wednesday?" The security officer of the village, Itzik, like most Israelis, was extremely impatient.

"What time does it start?" I asked him. "About 17:00 - like last time," he answered me. Last time, I waited for hours for the idiots to get started. A pig in molasses moves faster than the IDF when it comes to working with civilians. Even the Israel Police are more efficient!

"Where will it be?" I asked, half knowing the answer. "It'll be in the same place as last time! Where else will we have it?" he expostulated. "Nu? Which is it already? Monday or Wednesday?" he continued to press. And I continued to dither. "I'm busy both days, Itzik. You sure this will be in the late afternoon-evening?"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure!" Itzik answered, his very short fuse nearly running out on him.

"Alright, Itzik", I relented at last. "I have a meeting on Monday morning in Jerusalem at 10:00. I can probably catch the bus leaving from Jerusalem at 14:00. So put me down for Monday." On Sunday, I got a formal notice from the Security Officer of the village saying that I was registered to go on Monday to target practice, pursuant to our conversation the previous week - at 14:00. The notice said "transportation is you own responsibility."

On Monday, I went to the meeting with my son, and after some haggling, we agreed to register him with National Service, where he would do "volunteer" work in lieu of not serving in the IDF. We were to come to another meeting the next morning, where he would meet with a Jerusalem coordinator of the National Service. We took a bus to the Central Bus Station, from whence my son would go home, and I would take a different bus at 13:00 to the village to the mitv�H - the target practice. I still had no idea how I would get home to Ma'ale Levona.

I got off at the village specified, and walked around some, asking directions for where the target practice was held for villagers who had to do patrol. There was a kid walking around with the same puzzled "am-I-in-the-right-place?"expression I must have been wearing, and together we progressed to a large field, about the size of a soccer or rugby pitch. At one end of the field was a shelter against the wind and the rain, and at the other was a sign in Hebrew - 25 meters.

We had indeed arrived. It was the place where target practice was done. It looked like the place I had gone to last year, and there were spent shells on the field.

The kid sat himself down with a notebook, pencil and paper and started working on some school problem. I watched him absent-mindedly. I should have brought a notebook or book along myself, but I had been in too much of a hurry to catch the 7:30 bus with my son.

The kid sitting on the ground looked up at me, "at� m'dabér angl�t? "Do you speak English?"

Joy! Rapture! Of course I speak English! I wouldn't have to crack my jaws or stretch my poor overworked brain on Hebrew! "Yeah, I talk English," I answered him. The kid continued on in Hebrew.

"Can you help me with what I'm working on here? It's all in English, and I'm having trouble understanding..." I didn't waste time answering him. I walked over and took the paper from his hand and looked at it.

It was in English alright. But I didn't understand a single sentence. The kid was studying electrical engineering, and he wanted me to translate the problems he was working on. English I know. Electrical engineering? Forget about it! I didn't know the technical terms and couldn't translate most of them for him. I did translate one or two terms here and there and was about to give up altogether when I noticed a sheet of paper translating a whole series of terms from English to Hebrew. Like most Israelis, he hadn't bothered to look at the sheet.

I held the sheet in front of his face. "Use this!" I told him. "I don't know the technical terms, but this sheet will give you the help you asked me for."

I showed him the various terms he needed to know, and the vast majority of the terms he wanted were there. He returned to his book - and I returned to my ennui. A 6% solution of cocaine to inject in my veins would have been appropriate at that point.

We had arrived at 14:00 - the time specified on the sheet I had gotten in the mail - and still we were the only ones there. It was going on 15:00. I dialed up the Security Officer on my cell-phone.

"Nu, Itzik, where are you? Was this canceled after all?" I asked, glancing a the clouds that seemed to get heavier and heavier with each passing hour.

"I'm on the way," he answered. "Don't worry." Typical Israeli bluff and bravado.

By the time he had arrived a few minutes later, a whole bunch of others had also, so the first order of business was praying MinH�, the afternoon prayer. Then we waited some more. Suddenly a HUMVEE appeared with some soldiers in it. First it drove down to the far edge of the field, where some kids (soldiers) took out about 8 targets to shoot at, and set them in the ground. They left a whole series of small boxes at the corner. Ammo. Then the HUMVEE came by to the shelter and the same soldiers unloaded four small plastic items that unfolded to become long benches for us to sit on. Then, they took out a large table on which they set cakes, and a large container containing hot water. Teabags and coffee packets were also provided. You would have thought that this was a kidd�sh after synagogue on Shabb�t instead of target practice.

Itzik handed me an M16 and an empty clip. It is the standard banana clip that holds 30 5.56 mm bullets, the standard ammo of the M16 used here. It didn't register in my head immediately that the clip was empty. I checked the weapon to make sure there were no bullets in it.

A whole load of people who live in Ma'ale Levona had arrived, and I saw my possible ride - Barry. I didn't waste any time, and asked him if he had a spot in his car for me. He did! Suddenly, even though the clouds were descending lower and lower, the day was a lot brighter and sunnier for me. I would have a ride home!

The actual target practice was somewhat anti-climactic after all that waiting. There were two sessions - one where we shot 20 bullets standing, kneeling and prone, and a second session after dark where we shot ten bullets in any position we were comfortable in. It was beginning to rain when we shot at night, and I rushed through the routine and returned the weapon, and empty clip to the Security Officer and rushed onwards to see Barry already in his car ready to leave. It must have been 17:10 or 17:15 at night. A long day - and finally on the way home in the pouring rain in the Samarian mountains!

That is where the story should end. But it didn't end there.

Traveling up the road to Ma'ale Levona from Sinjil at 17:30 in the evening, the vehicle I was riding in was confronted with and the road blocked by two Israel Police vehicles. After some discussion, the police agreed to move the vehicles and allowed the vehicle I was riding in to pass. Traveling from there to the main road into the village, I could see a long line of traffic backed up on the main road. The following is reported live as dictated to my son, Shim'on, who typed this as I spoke.

At the entry road to Ma'ale Levona there is a tremendous road block. There are border guards in full combat gear, there are police, and Yassamnikim (SWAT team) in black. The main road into the village was blocked with stones and we ran over them at 17:40 this evening (7 December 2009). Fortunately the vehicle was not damaged. It is impossible to enter Ma'ale Levona at this second. The presence of police, military vehicles, and the stones in the road seem to indicate that there either is or has been a confrontation between forces of the state and the residents of Ma'ale Levona. This is confirmed by the presence of a large number of residents at the gate of the yish�v (village). A barrier of rocks is slowly being removed from the roadway and we are progressing home. Walking into the village, I was stopped by a kid who wanted to make sure I live here.

That is from the article I wrote for Blogcritics Magazine on the confrontation at Ma'ale Levona that had been taking place all afternoon while I was wasting my time at a damned target shoot!

Looking at the road leading to Ma'ale Levona I was wishing I had a laptop or notebook computer with a WiFi connection on it. I was staring at a news story, and was pissed off as all hell. Finally, it hit me to call up my son and dictate the basis of a newsflash to him, one that I could fix up when I got home and file. So I dialed him up, and Shim'on did me proud. He opened a Word document and typed what I told him to, and then typed in observations of his own.

When I got home, I sat down at the computer and began to work. There is no rest for the wicked.

Life At Sea: A Fortnight Later - Hurricanes, Casualties and Paranthas

Gauri Warudi — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 10:37:32 EST

Hurricanes, casualties and paranthas

Nov 9, 2009

Two weeks back we were in Galveston and boarded the ship the following day. Time flies, of course.

Now I’m in rewind mode. These past 2 weeks have been totally relaxing. I’ve probably never seen so many films, done so much of light as well as meaningful reading; getting those amazing books was the right decision. Commentary on the Bhagwad Gita by dad, Dr SG Mudgal, Translation of the Brahmasutras (also by him) besides of course the Upanishads, (a commentary by Eknathan Eswaran) and Sri Sri Ravishanker’s book - a wealth of reading, when one needs to refresh and rejuvenate one’s mind and spirit.

Of the films seen, I enjoyed God Tussi Great Ho and also Yeh Mera India - the latter although jingoistic is positive and the former is totally enjoyable as well as preachy. Which gets me thinking. What exactly does an audience look for in a film? For, both these films flopped, particularly the latter. Similar seems to be the case with Billu. I thought it was enjoyable, except for the numerous songs—yet I believe it didn’t do well at all at the BO!

Hurricane Ida has wreaked havoc in El Salvador, I hear, and has continued her trail of destruction down the gulf. The sea is tremendously rough and we’ve been rolling and pitching all through the night and through the day. Apparently this weather will continue for another 24 hrs at least.

Which brings me to my current status…accidentally casual, er casually accidental. Oh! See what an accident can do to one’s typing skills too?? Its actually accidental casualty! Oh yes, that I’m accident prone is well-known, but that I’d be the first victim of the ship’s rock-n-rolla wasn’t so obvious; but well, there I was, going for a post-dinner walk on the bridge and what happens? The ship decides to do a little jig at that precise moment when I was trying to open the heavy metal door and my toe gets stuck under the darned thing - ouch! It hurt— it also bled like there’s no tomorrow. A brief flutter and panic and I’m all bandaged and ready for action again!! LOL!

Nov 10, 2009

Today’s a new day. The weather is improving, the sun’s shining bright and hopefully Ida’s bid farewell.

I’m no gourmet, but it seems my limited culinary skills are being put to test and enjoyed/approved by the young officers on board. Home sickness perhaps? Which is the reason that they all jumped with joy when we announced that Methi paranthas it would be for dinner last night…With so much of ‘kasuri methi’ packets lying in the store and chief cook having limited use for it, I suggested the recipe for paranthas he was only too happy to learn something new. “You want me to assist you Madam?” he asked politely. Oh yes! And there we were at 3 in the afternoon making a huge heap of ‘em paranthas. Now, was it a hit or was it?? Gives me the courage (LOL!!) to teach him a few other things from my limited culinary kitty-bag…:)

More Reports From The Sea

Gauri Warudi — Sun, 8 Nov 2009 01:28:50 EST

GOLDEN SUNRISES, WEATHER REPORTS AND MAILING RECIPES!

Nov 7, 2009

It’s such a beautiful morning. There was just a hint of golden light peeking thru the curtains when I woke up. That was that! I jumped out of bed, cos I couldn't let such a picturesque sight get out of hand. The sunlight was just daring to crack thru the dark clouds which were passing by. Lo and Behold! I got such an amazing series of pictures - collector's items, really!

I log on basically to chat with my boys, catch up with friends n family and update my blog. I find Kartik online and guess what? He wants me to send him the recipe for pithale, a Maharashtrian delicacy (LOL!)

Yesterday was another new experience on board. The drill was advanced to Friday instead of Saturday. This is a requirement on all ships; that fire drills and boat drills be conducted every week, in order to remain prepared in case of any eventualities. The surprise yesterday was the oil spill drill. It was something worth observing and learning from! Then followed the fire drill. It was very different from last week's, for sure. This time it was a mock fire in the paint locker. The crew reacted precisely and I saw people wear their fireproof rig and gear up with the extinguishers etc…then followed the boat drill which was pretty much routine.

Amongst the few books that I have carried there’s this really fascinating book, Wisdom for the New Millenium by Sri Sri Ravishanker. An amazing read, really. Things that one has already heard and read a dozen times over have been reiterated here. And yet it is so wonderful to read. Sri has his way of explaining, narrating ideas, concepts, fundas. I could go on and on. It’s a must read, no doubt. For those who find it hard/boring/time consuming to read the Gita or the Upanishads, this is a very reader friendly book. Worth its weight in gold no doubt. Deep concepts explained in a rather fun manner in everyday parlance. The other book by Sri Sri which is fun to read is “God Loves Fun”….

The crew wants a party tonight too, I hear. I guess they love their tambola games, LOL! And why not. Being away at sea far away from family and friends, everyone needs some excitement and entertainment. These are small thrills.

The ship has a system with a software installed about weather changes; which gives an update every couple of days or as is requested by the individual vessel. The report last night warns of foul weather and a cyclone warning about 300 miles away from where we are anchored - this place is known for cyclonic weather. Galveston and around. Remember Katrina??

If reports are to believed (and yea, these we can, unlike our Indian met Deptt)we will have bad weather on Monday, perhaps!!

Ahhh well. That remains to be seen, huh?

Life On The High Seas

Gauri Warudi — Fri, 6 Nov 2009 12:14:40 EST

Nectar here we come!

What’s it like? 15 years? It almost seems as if time has stood still where ships at sea are concerned - obviously, what else can we expect?? The sea’s the same, ships are similar - just people change!

But let me start from the very beginning. I’d been preparing for this voyage for almost a year now. Ever since Kartik started his applications for courses abroad and I knew now would be the time for me to join Dilip on his voyage, once Kartik went away. Almost everyone knew of my intended voyage! The background work had been going on for months now and sooner than we knew Kartik had flown off to UK and we assumed(rather we were told) that we too would fly out by the first week of October. However we were in for a surprise when we learnt that our departure was postponed by almost three weeks.

Yet, when the time actually came I still went into a tizzy and got the creepies and anxiety pangs. Oct 23rd we are all packed, reach Mumbai and ready to take off when we hear that our departure has yet again been postponed by a day(further extended by another again)…a friend said, “Relax, enjoy your stay in 5 star comfort”…hey all that’s fine, but once one is mentally prepared to take off, it gets rather irritating to keep waiting…

However, on the flip side, while at The Orchid, Mumbai, on the morning of our departure, we had a pleasant surprise- on our way down to the lobby, who should greet us but Mr Vithal Kamat himself! Here we were, stepping into the elevator, and a churidar-kurta clad, bearded, bespectacled gentleman greets us, saying, “Hello, goodmorning…welcome..I’m the President of this hotel. My name’s Vithal Kamat.” And even before we could react or catch our breath, he continued, “Here’s my visiting card…I usually catch people in the lift so they can’t run away from me,” he adds with a chuckle! We were caught unawares and didn’t know how to respond…he continued talking and guided us towards the duty manager’s table asking him to present us with his book and a couple of copper glasses( a gift item from the hotel!) The book penned by Kamat himself, titled Idli, Orchid and Will Power is a translated version from his original Marathi “Idli, Orchid ani me” It was still unbelievable that we’d actually had a bump-in with the man himself.

Anyway coming back to our departure, Oct 25th we finally headed for the CSIA, to board the flight to Doha and then on to Houston. it was fine up to Doha, but on to Houston it was one long never ending 15 and half hour flight! No major complaints. At Houston airport things went off pretty smoothly, and soon enough we were met by our driver and were on our way to Galveston, where (we were told by a rather minimal speaking Afro-American driver) we were to stay at the Holiday Inn Sunspree Resort for the night. “O 800 tomorrow,” he said like a school headmaster, while telling us about our pick-up the next morning

Tired and waiting to knock off, we however had to pay heed to our gastronomic needs too, huh? The front office dude tells us with a nasal twang, “Dinner’s closed, your agent didn’t tell us about it…however there’s a deli about a block and half down the road, where you could pick up some food,”…..A block and a half away??? Crazy?? We weren’t in any physical condition to even think about trudging there…nevertheless, Dilip convinced him to order pizzas for us; and by the time we had dinner and slept off it was well past midnight; but boy! How we slept.

The Holiday Inn Sunspree Resort is a sea-front resort and is a pretty sight, the first thing in the morning…it wasn’t day-break yet, but one could see the sea and the beach in the dim lights and it was amazing….. “breakfast is from 6 am onwards,” front office guy(Kevin, I think that was his name) had told us. So like obedient kids, we were ready for breakfast by 7 am. The night was wearing away and a very pretty dawn awaited us, as we sat in the glass front restaurant, munching on bagels with cream cheese (for veggy people like us, the choice was limited!) and sipping coffee. The guy at the restaurant was a genial old man, in his mid-60s perhaps who chatted us up a bit, since we were the only people in for breakfast then.

Breakfast done and check-out finished with, we were on our way to Santa Fe, where we were to board a chopper to reach the ship. It was a 35 minute ride and an experience of a life-time. As we went over the US Gulf, I was excited as well as tense - all the Grisham and Denker novels ran thru my mind, imagining worst case scenarios - hahaha. But no untoward incidents took place and presently the chopper captain was like “Maersk Nectar, Maersk Nectar, helicopter here…landing in about 5 minutes”….wonderful!!

There we were and I went shutter happy clicking pictures from all possible heights/levels/angles…gawsh!! Finally here I was, on board Maersk Nectar and this was to be my home for the next four months!! There’ll be more notes coming now, and am firm I’m gonna make the best of this chance given to me.

The first week on Nectar

No sooner had we landed than Dilip was on his way to take over from the off-signing captain. We reached the Captain’s cabin (cabin? It’s a goddamned suite for Chrissake!!). While Dilip got busy with his work, I got into conversation with Deepa, the captain’s wife. Their l’il girl Disha, took to me as if we had known each other for ages!

Deepa took me around showing me the various decks, the mess room, the galley and other places, while Disha clung to me for dear life. God, some things don’t cease to amaze me!

So while Dilip got busy familiarizing himself with the ship and the people, and taking over from Capt Kirupakaran, I kept myself busy nosing around the cabin and its contents…this suite is a luxury really - opening into the Captain’s office, it leads into a day room and then the bedroom. The day room is huge, with a coffee maker, a fridge, DVD/VCD player, TV, music deck and LOADS of space, these supremely fancy yet comfortable TV chairs and what-have-you.

The returning heli flight got delayed due to some technical hitch and Kirupakaran and family got a bit delayed; so a quick lunch and the problem sorted out, they bid goodbye to us and then it was just us settling in and occupying our spaces for our stuff!! Haha, really funny, how I made myself completely at home, calling a certain drawer ‘mine’ and taking control of it!!

The evening went off in a flurry, what with dinner being served (all meals are buffet) at 6:00 PM and then a walk on the aisle/wing on the deck).

Day 2-

Rested plenty with almost 10 hrs of sleep, I woke up quite early and after a nice cuppa, got ready to begin the day - daylight comes rather late, at around 7:00 am…beginning with a good healthy breakfast, I sat down to watch one movie I’ve been longing to watch, Frost/Nixon. Man, what a film!! Perfect in every way. Although I’d say Frank Langella’s resemblance to Nixon wasn’t perfect, but his histrionics left me spell bound! Superbly crafted and scripted, small wonder that it was nominated for the Academy awards, yet I wonder why MILK beat it, will have to find out, because I haven’t watched Milk. It seems as if Nixon is gonna come outta my ears, what with me having watched All the President’s Men on the flight from Doha to Houston - geez!

“There’s a gym on the ship,” Dilip had told me and Deepa repeated the same. Eager to see the place, I ventured in there. Quite well equipped, it has the basic cardio machines and I am quite content with it - I worked out today for about 25 mins to the music of MJ, one of my fave singers. I tried out the tread mill and the rowing machine…wow! Felt good; and then went right ahead and had a cheese sandwich!! Sheesh! Aahh well, but I guess I’m going to be walking and exercising quite a bit over the next four months, so I shall allow myself the occasional indulgence!

As I was going towards the gym, Chief officer Manish came telling me that they had caught a shark!! Holy Christ, a shark?? “Yes, Ma’am, we’re going to let her off once we show it to Captain,” he announced, so once I was done with the gym and Dilip awoke from his slumber, I went right down to the 2nd deck and took pictures of the hapless baby - she wouldn’t let the bait go out, so it had to be cut off from the line; and then they threw her back into the waters.

The sea was quite choppy; there’s a swell and Dilip explains that had we not been loaded or had we been on a smaller ship (Maersk Nectar is a 3.5 lakh ton ship) people would’ve started getting sea sick oh for small mercies!!

Day 3:

The sea continues to be rough; in fact by the afternoon, they suspect that the anchor is being dragged and they may have to take measures to secure it/put it back in place. Engines are ready if need arises for the ship to be moved and the anchor picked up and dropped again - mercifully there’s no need.

But, as I sit keying in these thoughts, the ship is shuddering a bit-perhaps the anchor will have to be moved? Let's see.

I have been spoiling myself silly, watching films, reading and oh yea, doing some work—like laundry etc!! And I thought I wouldn’t have to lift a finger…hahaha…I reckon its good I have to do some minimal work, otherwise, I’d lose practice and find it difficult when I reach home after 4 months!

If I liked Frost/Nixon yesterday, Sankat City today got me MAD! Grr, why do people make such senseless films? It almost seemed like a diluted and stupider version of another senseless film called Hulchul ( yea, that Priyadarshan film) A huge amount of talent wasted…Kaykay, Anupam Kher - what were they thinking? Chunky Pandey and Rimi Sen - well, the less said the better. Ahh well!

I've been reading Vithal Kamat’s Idli, Orchid and Will Power I don’t think I’m too impressed. Maybe I expected much more. Although it is inspiring, the narrative does not flow smoothly.

Oct 30, 2009

It’s a week since we left home. The sea’s been rough all night. Ship’s been rolling and it felt as if we were being rocked in a cradle! Although it was pitch dark outside, I could see the rain beating down on the port hole and clambered out of bed to capture it on my camera. The sights are all so new, I am shutter-happy all the time.

In the middle of the night, the 2nd officer calls Dilip for some thing. I barely note this and am back into deep slumber for a while. At 6 am though 2nd officer says its raining heavily and visibility is barely 5 miles…that’s when I clambered out of bed….

There’s not been a dull moment hitherto. Weather keeps changing all the time and there’s something fascinating happening every moment…..the day’s just begun!

Oct 31st 2009

The sea has been so calm, the sun has come out and it’s been a beautiful day so far. We had a fire drill and boat drill today. For the first I just had to go to the bridge, but for the boat drill I had to go down to the main deck and join the crew and officers. Go thru the exercise of putting on the life jacket and await while the officers and men lowered the life boat….ahh well, one more experience in my kitty!

While I waited on the bridge, for the fire drill to be over, I saw some dolphins dancing on the starboard side of the ship…a mother and baby perhaps??? Yesterday too, as we were leaving to go down for dinner, 2nd officer Abhay calls in to say, “Captain there are a few dolphins on starboard side, perhaps Ma’am would be interested in seeing them?” Oh yes ofcourse I was!! I ran up the stairs to see them from the bridge wing and tried to take some pictures; but the fellas were too fast for me to be captured!!!

There’s a party being arranged tonight….just an introductory kinda thing. No drinking of course, just games and stuff. People look forward to such events!!

Our cabin: It had been a tiring 24 hrs and more and wasn’t surprising that I knocked off at 8:30 PM!!! Something I’ve never done in the past 10 yrs perhaps!!

All in all I know I’m in for a luxurious holiday…gearing to watch lots of films and do plenty of blogging…there’ll be more coming, watch out!!

Of drills, dolphins and calm seas

Nov 1, 2009

We set our clocks back by an hour last night, so got an extra hour’s sleep!! Went down to the galley to teach second cook (a Fillipino) how to make ‘upma’ I guess I managed to make a decent version of the stuff…lots of unknown/unfamiliar factors, beginning with the quality of the ‘sooji’….aahh well. Now it remains to be seen how the people like it!! Hahaha… Oh but the Fillipino cook really cooks up nice Indian stuff - hats off to him!

Last night we had a few rounds of tambola and yours truly won a small prize of $7!! Small thrills. Back home, I’ve always been unlucky in tambola.

Nov 2, 2009

Ahh what a bright and beautiful day it is today! A long day too, I think…..lots to do, much to key in and more.

As I sit here, I wonder about the wonders of technology. What with the internet, it seems as if we haven’t gone away from home! One has gotten so used to being connected with people, the few days in between that were incommunicado, seemed like ages. Now that we have the internet on board (albeit intermittent) life has returned to normal..(LOL!). Fascinating to say the least. Here I am sitting on the ship, 40 miles inside the US Gulf, and yet constantly in touch with the whole world….if that’s not amazing then what is??

Enough said about the wonders of technology…..I must confess, I stand corrected on the Vithal Kamat book…now that I’ve read every word, sentence and page of the book, I have to admit, it is a hugely inspiring book. My earlier opinion was perhaps rather premature??? Having said that, I also have to reiterate, that the book could have done with better English and a keener editing. Too many typo errors and grammatical mistakes. For a scribe such things don’t go unnoticed!

It’s Guru Nanak Jayanti and Tripurari Pornima today. The moon is full and beautiful! Early in the evening, she had risen in the East and as dusk came on, the changing hues of the horizon and the sea, in that reflected/refracted light, was simply awesome. The reflection of the moon on the sea in the darkness of night, created a very dream like image with the shimmering surface of the waters lending the magical touch to the picture! Naturally I was shutter happy and managed to capture some beautiful sights…..every evening I’m out either on the deck or the bridge wing, looking for the fascinating colors of dusk (dawn isn’t possible, as I’m not much of an early riser!)….life sure is different and one takes a very fresh look at Nature.

Films, galleys and dream homes

Nov 3, 2009

It’s a week today, since we came on board. Days seem to have just flown by. It makes me think about how the next 15 weeks will go by. Perhaps we will continue to remain here, anchored off Galveston or sail off elsewhere. Who knows? Any which way, it’s a relaxed time for me.

While taking an early morning walk on the deck today, we saw different types of little and medium sized birds hopping on the deck, keeping us company…a partridge like bird, a sparrow(??) and of course sea-gulls and swallows are always there, but later in the evening. These little early birds reminded Dilip of such visitors on board when they sail. He narrated how these birds sit on the foremast or on the bridge wing and move with the ship, but a few days later are found dead on the deck…lost their way, left behind or hungry!!!! Such is life and such is Nature!

That brings me to a typical day on board the Nectar--

Wake up by around 6:00 am, freshen up, have tea and go for a walk on the deck. By 8:00 am, get ready for breakfast. Then the day's all mine to read, watch films, surf the net, blog, chat until lunch time that's 12:00 noon.(We have net access on ever alternate day). Again all afternoon relax, gym at 3:30 PM, relax, walk on the bridge wing maybe,and then dinner at 645pm. Post dinner its again reading, writing, walking and then watching film with Dilip if he is free from his work. or then lights out by 830 PM!! Can't believe am actually knocking off so early...wonders never cease, now do they??

Nov 4, 2009

“Maqsad bagair zindagi ka koi matlab nahi hota,” says Victor Banerjee to little Tahaan. I just watched the film Tahaan by Santosh Sivan A very touching film, about misplaced ideals, and end of innocence; there’s a positive end to it all though, but I wonder is this reality? Nevertheless, what the old man tells l’il Tahaan is so true. We have to have a goal to reach, aim to achieve-otherwise life becomes meaningless - am I getting philosophical? Maybe!

The second officer signed off yesterday. He was going home after 6 mths and you could see the excitement on his face while he was leaving. The new guy came in with plenty of goodies like DVDs and magazines and stuff - small joys for people who are here on board without much to look forward to by way of entertainment.

So last night we tried hard to watch at least a part of two really horrid films (from the freshly arrived DVDs. LOL!). Quick Gun Murugan and Do Knot Disturb. Good Lord! I wonder why on earth do people make these films and who on earth finances such disasters!

Out of the newspapers the second officer got, we had this huge heap of issues of the Houston Chronicle. It was fun reading the local news and also looking at the various sales and related stuff announced thru a pile of flyers and sales mailers!!(typical of all US papers)

I got some cheap thrills going thru the realty pages. Dream homes being sold at varied prices. Ranging from $200,000 upwards!! Oh to own one such house!

At the same time, I read an article about various homes lying vacant due to forced-eviction of people who have failed to pay back their loans. These homes are in shambles and are being maintained by some alert and aware neighborhood youngsters in a bid to keep the realty price in check! So much for dream homes, huh??

This morning, it was decided that tonight’s dinner would be Idli-sambar-chutney…no, it wasn’t an impromptu decision - actually, hua youn ki, almost 2 dozen coconuts had been called for in the ship’s provisions list. Now, no one had a clue as to what was to be done with them, ‘cos you see, if the coconuts were broken, how does one use them, since there was no coconut scraper on board! Now that’s a genuine difficulty ain’t it? So the chief engineer got a scraper made, and then began the planning of how and who would scrape the coconuts? Well, to cut a long story short, they asked me if I’d prepare/teach Chief cook to prepare sambar and chutney. Well, why not? So there we were, getting ready with all the raw material, masalas and what-have-you. Chief cook insisted I should teach him and he’d make the chutney himself.(This dude has a great deal of interest in his work, I must admit most Indian cooks wouldn’t do their work so passionately)

Well, that’s how we went about it. It was a great hit…cook prepared wonderful, fluffy idlis (the instant mix kind) and the sambar and chutney simply added to the joy! All in all a nice dinner…finished off with some nice cinnamon cake.

Now, how can one hope to stay fit and fine? No amount of walking and gymming is going help, I say! Phew!

Do Festivals Mean Anything Any More?

Manasa Pamaraju — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 11:27:09 EDT

I love the fact that I was born an Indian and the only country which has maximum number of festivals celebrated and moreover one gets holidays for them too. Festivals do make life very colourful and Diwali probably tops them all with Holi coming in second for me. There is a lot of hope, excitement and activity all around you. The definite thing is one misses this fervour when one is away from India. Diwali is never the same, even if we do celebrate it with other Indians in an Indian temple. I feel what we miss is the family and close friends more than the activities related with the festival.

After all, these festivals were an occasion for family gatherings and coming from a family that is quite obsessed with gatherings, I am one for get-togethers, especially on important festivals. But, other than this, a festival doesn't mean too much to me personally. Yes, there are some rituals and pujas to be performed. Diwali and Ganesh Chaturthi are probably the only two for which I do that; but what about all the others? I love decorating my house for Diwali and arranging the little pandal for Ganesh ji at home. But many other festivals have lost their prominence and relevance in today's modern setup, at least in the cities, with fast paced lives and hardly any time for others. I think that they are probably still prevalent in villages where life primarily revolves around agriculture.

This Diwali, I was in two minds. What with all the smoke that comes out of the firecrackers should I really be spending money on crackers and two what is Diwali without them. After all it is just one day in a year. All the pollution that the festivals cause makes my heart bleed. So do the extravagancies of Ganesh Chaturthi and Durga Puja and so on and so forth.

I feel that with the changing times, we should revamp the way in which the festivals are celebrated. Maintaining the essence of a festival is crucial for continuing our age old traditions and customs, but extravagance can be curbed in order to preserve our fast depleting ecology. For example, one can decorate the house for Diwali and light beautiful Diyas, but curbing on the extravagance of excessive fireworks would do us all a lot of good. Else, we will neither have a culture nor a planet for our future generations.

All said and done, I hope all of you had a great Diwali and wish you a lovely year ahead.

Sand Art

rads — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 08:15:20 EDT

Here I am talking specifically about welcome signs drawn outside of doors in India. The kind that is unique, original and takes different forms, the symbol of our culture and the fascination it invokes in all who lay eyes on it.

I speak about : Muggulu (telugu) Kolam (Tamil) and Rangoli (hindi)

My mom has a large collection of different kinds muggulu (kolams/rangolis) back home. Every year, as the festive season approached, she'd open her book up and brush up on them and practice on stolen sheets of paper from our note books. I remember her being very possessive about her collection. She did not share her designs with anyone, nor did she allow us to flip the pages without her permission.

There were all kinds.

Dots circled by squiggles and dots connected by lines.

There were no dot designs too.

Then, there were designs with even number of dots and the odd numbers. Some went all the way to one, while some stopped short at 3. Some had a pattern to them.

15, 13(2) 11, 9(2), 7, 5- she'd pencil the top of the page.

There was an order to all those squiggles that wound serpentine in and out and dodged the little islands of rice flour. Yes, there would be a once a month purchase of Kolamaavu or Muggupindi - a mixture of calcium and /or chalk. It was heavy in texture, and fell thickly across the wet earth. There was a knack of letting the flour flow smooth and even as one drew lines and curves in the wee hours. It was a special treat when my mother would allow me to try my hand at it. The smaller tinier lesser traffic doorways was given to me. To practice and I would.

It was a special joy to see the white powder fall ever so gently as my index finger and thumb would clasp a tiny bit and move within half an inch over the wet floor, leaving a white trail behind. The one that would form boundaries and create mazes for the ants. The ones that the ants would feed on eventually to make their way across.

Am sure there's an interesting history to why this little art started and how it evolved. I should perhaps go read up on it.

In the meanwhile, I wanted to ask this. How many really serious muggu/kolam/rangoli folks are out there today? No, am not talking about competitions and filling the boundaries of these shapes with colors and flowers alone, but some serious pattern drawing? In this day and age when nights and mornings have merged to one with busy schedules and the space that's reserved for this artwork has been taken over by cycles parked outside, or the narrow alleys that have been created by apartments spilling over? The last time I was over, I saw little hurried dashes in place of beautiful intricate sparkling art. It was disappointing.

On special occasions such as Diwali, Navaratri, Ganesh Puja, or Varalakshmi Vratam day, or Ugadi, I try and do a small colorful muggu outside our front door. It's with colored sidewalk chalk, not rice flour. Sidewalk art at its best.

I use whatever colors I can salvage from the tub from munchkin's corner in the garage. It feels good. It feels like a home when I have that spread outside. People who come home have always remarked (and some with an amused snicker) on how I can remember and continue to keep up a failing tradition, here outside India.

I shock folks occasionally and invariably get a kick out of it. It's entertaining, correct? How else does one spice up a suburbian life, with three kids (I'd love to say a dog, but if I do, that would make me husband-less, so I refrain) doing the mundane soccer mom thing?

So my quick to pull out of the chalkbox, apart from drawing a padma:

is this squiggly one:

It's 7-5-3-1 and it's really very simple.

So you tell me, do you do an occasional Kolam/Muggu/rangoli outside your home? Special occasions? Do you personally know how to draw a couple? From memory? Is there favorite? Have you stopped doing it? Why?