"Strawberry Fields Forever"

Vandana had organised the outing.
We were to go to a farm in the countryside, about 50 miles away from Hoboken where she and Sriram live, and pick strawberries.

Pick strawberries!
I baulked at the very idea.
I couldn't see myself involved in any physical activity, least of all climbing trees.
I struggled with visions of coconut plucking at home in Madras, where men, with dhotis neatly tucked in, ran up the palms and flung down the cocnuts; and mango plucking, where men below would hold sacking to gently collect the mangoes plucked and thrown down by men in the tree.

Vandana smiled mysteriously and promised me I would enjoy it.
The group included Vandana's parents, who like us, are visiting from India, Sriram-Vandana's friends Jaisri and Apsara, and Shyam, Vandana's cousin who is doing a summer internship at New York. Four seniors and five management types.
And so we went, packed in two cars to the farm.

It was a dream of a day, with blue skies and cotton wool clouds, and rolling hills in the background.
And strawberries growing on low lying plants, barely a foot high!
The motley group had a field day, rummaging for hidden strawberries among the low bushes.

We could pick all we could, get them weighed, pay for them and bring the fruit of our labours home.
And so we picked them, and despite creaking joints and recalcitrant limbs, I was able to pick quite a few too. The other seniors in the group were swifter and filled their little boxes soon.
The strawberries tasted as delicious as they looked, which can never be said of the ones bought from the city shops. The bigger and more attractive they look, the less luscious they are bound to be, I had discovered
But these, fresh from the vine, were rich and juicy.

A picnic lunch, with fresh strawberries for dessert, rounded off the day nicely.

Dog's Best Friend.....

This is what I saw on one of the streets of New York.
And yes indeed, if you walk your dog on the streets, as in any other place in the country, be prepared to scoop up its poop - or face the consequences.
Which explains the plastic bags dog owners carry while walking their pets.
In Seattle, one evening a strange woman knocked at our door, and asked for a plastic bag.
"I am so sorry," she said , "I forgot to bring a bag with me, and my dog has messed up the pavement."

Movies and iPhones

We went to a movie yesterday. In a way it was a first of sorts.
Though we have visited this country before, this was the first time we went to a movie theatre in the USA - unless you count the visit to the Imax theatre in Los Angeles.
From the street, there was nothing to indicate what is inside, except the lights on the marquee.
Upon going in, I was amazed to learn that the building housed 14 theatres. While I stood with mouth agape, my daughter-in-law Vandana told me that there were complexes on Times Square which housed more than 40 theatres.
Our theatre on 34th Street, was on the 4th floor, and steep escalators ran up and down
No crowds, no conversations, no agitated shouts, it was so quiet, it could be called dull. Where was the excitement, the throb of humanity, the vibrant loud thrum that accompanies the screening of movies in India, specially, Madras?
Isn't that part of the movie experience?
And I was in for a big shock when I entered the theatre - it could house barely 250 people.
We were to see 'Knocked Up', one of the latest pictures, and there were no crowds on a Saturday evening - only half the seats were filled.
In the foyer of the 4th floor I noticed 4 big posters from the old movies. Adorned in intricately designed frames, the posters were from favourites of the golden oldies - 'Gone With The Wind', 'Casablanca', and 'Godfather'. the other one slips my mind - a reminiscence of the glorious days of cinema.
I could imagine Vivien Leigh, dressed in her beautiful robes and flashing jewellery, hanging on the arm of a dashing Clark Gable, entering the theatre for the premiere of Gone with The Wind, amid the clamour of star struck fans.
On one of the huge landings was a bench with a larger than life Simpson family seated in full splendour - an indication of present day favourites.


But people haven't really changed. The crowd - herd?- mentality persists
The crowds that shun the movies have not disappeared - they have only moved on.
Earlier in the week I had read in the New York Times about people who were waiting in line for the iPhone to be sold. On Thursday we saw pictures of people who had taken up spots in front of Apple Stores to buy the iPhone, from Wednesday evening, to buy the phone on Friday at 6 pm when the sales would begin.

How crazy, I thought - Lord, what fools these mortals be, was what rung in my ears. But my husband was not satisfied with the reading - he had to see for himself what he calls the 'Sivaji' of New York and check out the people who would wait for two days for a hand held device costing almost $500. On Friday evening at about 5 he was in the city with Vandana at the flagship Apple Stores on Fifth Avenue.
And there he saw the queues of people which went beyond three blocks - people just waiting to buy the phone.
And there was the media with cameras and mikes, talking to the people in the line. And Starbucks was giving away free cups of coffee - product placement? - while someone was giving away bottles of water.

Some youngsters asked my husband if there was a carnival or celebration going on, and he enlightened them. Another one wondered if the release of the latest Harry Potter had been advanced.

What impressed him, said my husband was the kind of people waiting in line - they could be anyone, he said, a doorman or a finance analyst.
Some of them were ready to, in fact had been waiting to, sell their spots on the queue before the shop opened at 6 pm. Others said they had planned to sell them on eBay, and even Craig's list - an online shopping place for selling and buying used goods!!!

Vandana says that iPhones are going at $ 950 each on eBay, average price. so one can guess what the doorman types were doing there.

And on the dot of 6, the store opened to make the first sale of iPhone

A trip to Toronto

It was a brief trip to Toronto from New York.

My husband and I wanted to visit our daughter-in-law Jaisri's parents who live in Mississauga, near Toronto. That she was there with my son Sankar and three year old granddaughter Arundati was an added incentive.

Just for two days, and it is only an hour and a half by air from New York, where we are now with Sriram, our second son. The thought of seeing Aru again after almost three weeks was exhilarating, and we looked forward to hearing the gems which she constantly lets fall. We had said bye to her in Seattle, from where they have since wound up and were in Toronto en route to London, their new home from next week

Only an hour and a half, and it is not going to be all that bad, I thought - even if there is the security and immigration to be got through, since Toronto lies over the border in Canada.

We left home with Sriram at about 7.30 am and took the train from Hoboken, which lies across the river Hudson from New York, to 33rd Street in New York. A 10 minute ride. Technically Hoboken is in the neighbouring state of New Jersey, but geographically, it is as close to New York as you can get.
From 33rd Street Sriram put us in a cab, and we went to LaGuardia airport. A nice long ride, which took us across the busy city. By 8.30 we were at the airport, and after a quick check in (we only had overnight bags), we went to the gate where our flight was to take off.

Even security checking was smooth. I, wearing a sari and the mandatory jewels of a Madras Mami - earrings, mangalasutra, bangles and other jewellery, always bleep alarmingly when I pass through the security gate. And now I am used to various security female personnel patting me down and frisking me - always very polite and indifferent of course. Some suggest that I remove my bangles, but I have found that it doesn’t help; I still bleep.

The lady this particular day looked rather like an Indian to me with her colouring. She was very pleasant and after asking me where I am from, went on to tell me (all the while checking me for hidden bombs and incendiary materials) that she loved our culture, loved the lac bangles of India ("Where do they make them?"). She told me she is from Ecuador, and that many mistook her for an Indian, because of her colouring - black hair and dark skin.
She also told me she wanted to visit India and waved me in.

Once at the gate, we settled to board the plane, which was due to leave at 10.30 am. And according to our boarding passes, we would be in Toronto by 12.15 pm. At 10 am, an attendant came along and told us that we would be boarding at a different gate, and would we go there. This meant another security check. I groaned.

And sure enough, this time too this Mylapore Mami bleeped, and waited for a female personnel to check my person. The woman who came to check me was the opposite of the previous one - she was rude, rough, wore no gloves, did not pat me with the back of her hands as they usually do when they come to our chests, and did not give me the mandatory alert, "I shall now pat you with the back of my hands". Trust me, every other security officer has said that. And after that she opened my overnighter and messsed up the couple of sarees and blouses that were in there. Utterly unpleasant and uncouth - and she was of Indian origin.

She also pounced on my husband's hand baggage, and threw out his hair cream and moisturizer, without giving him a chance to find out why, thought the contents were less than the allowed 3 oz.
Travellers may make mistakes because the rules are not clearly mentioned anywhere regarding what we are allowed to take on board in our hand baggage. Usually all personnel are perfectly patient and helpful. This crude behaviour on the lady's part was a totally new experience to us in this country. (On the other hand, on our return flight I noticed that there were very clear instructions on what we could take on board as hand baggage.)

Anyway we settled down to board, and to our dismay found that the flight was delayed - from 10.30 to 11, then 11.40 and finally 12. We were called to board at 12 noon, when actually we should have been preparing to land at Toronto!

We assembled at the boarding spot and found that we were in front of a door marked exit. We looked at one another questioningly, and followed the queue, out on to a sloped passage, which led - not to the airbridge as we imagined it would, but right out into the open!
There we were shepherded into a bus, which after along 10 minutes took off. And on we went on an un-guided tour of LaGuardia airport, on and on, right up to the hangars. Just as I was beginning to think that we would probably go right up to Toronto, the bus stopped.

We got out and were guided to a small plane - I think it would have seated about 45 people.
As we were about to climb the steps to board the plane, an attendant appeared and took away all hand baggage, which was bigger than a laptop or a woman's handbag. Ours, with the food packet meant for snacking on the plane almost disappeared too. But we managed to pull it out just in time. Flights here don’t provide you with snacks or eats gratis, and we find it wiser to carry our own little back up.
Sankar had asked for aisle seats for both of us, so that we could have easy access going in, even though I prefer window seats. Imagine my delight when I found that I had a seat that was both.

The actual flight took only an hour, with a very pleasant captain announcing the airline's apologies for the delay.
The season of delays continued after immigration and customs (no checks at all!) at Toronto airport, when we had to wait for a while to be met - Sankar had missed the exit to the airport and lost his way!

By the time we reached home and sat down to a heavenly lunch cooked by Jaisri's mother, it was 4 pm!

Almost 9 hours after we had left home.

A BREAK FROM ROUTINE

All the leaves from the tree in front of our house have fallen.
Tight buds have begun to appear on the branches, dangling down in slender streamers.
I may not be around when it blooms for that one single day, the annual 'oru naal kalyanam'.
We are packing our bags to visit our sons for a while.
My husband and I are excited about seeing Arundati, my granddaughter, who will be three in June.
And we are not at all sorry to leave the hot humid, sweltering city for cooler climes.
But oh, I will miss the yellow blooms when they appear, with not a sign of green on the branches anywhere.
And we will also miss the mango season this year!
And the stones thrown by enterprising youngsters from the street, and the secret raid by our neighbours.
No mango tastes as delicious as a stolen one.

MAN'S BEST FRIEND?

Can there be any two thoughts on this – who should we spare, the child or the stray dog?
With the stray dog menace rising steadily, and incidents of attacked children numbing the public mind, this is something that has to be resolved at once.

A four-year-old schoolgirl was attacked and killed by stray dogs in Coimbatore, about a couple of months ago; and more recently stray dogs have killed children in Bangalore.
In the suburbs of Chennai too, stray dogs are proving to be a menace, and there are apprehensions that tragedies similar to the ones in Bangalore and Coimbatore may occur here.

Animal lovers and activists can protest all they want, but surely the life of one child or person is more important than the protection of stray dogs that pose so much danger!
Definitely the stray dog menace should be curbed, and if they have to be put to sleep, so be it.
Do we not dole out capital punishment to murderers? Are dogs special?

Will the vociferous activists, pleading for humane treatment of the strays, take some home and look after them?
It is easy to say bring them under the anti rabies vaccination and birth control programmes.
Is this a practical or practicable solution in a country like ours, where medical treatment and preventive programmes are not available to so many human beings?
This is a country where culturally the dog is an animal to be scorned. We are not like the affluent (and mostly lonely) Americans who take their pet dogs out to walk, armed with a poop shovel and cover.

The problem has to be faced and solved rationally with a cool head, and decisions come to – is it to be the human being or the dog?

See:
http://www.hindu.com/2007/03/20/stories/2007032019590500.htm

A Hurley burly wedding

I just can’t understand it.

A never before heard of businessman, Arun Nayar, and an over the hill British actress, Elizabeth Hurley, decide to get married.
So what is the excitement about? The media, both print and electronic, just doesn't seem to have enough of it

Neither is she at 42 a young nubile bride, (though she is undeniably beautiful) nor he a dashing young bridegroom.
The actress has been through more than one connection (to use a euphemism), and the businessman, too, must have had his share. Oh yes, one learns that he was married to an Italian model. . . though to be fair, since he hasn’t been in the limelight as much as the actress, his activities on that front may not have commanded much attention.
Not only have they been through previous marriages, but they got married in England just recently to one another.
Now they come to India and get married all over again in Jodhpur in a colorful ceremony glittering with festivities, with an unbefitting display of opulence.

Sure, private lives are private, and let anyone marry whomever, whenever, however, anywhere.
It is the unwarranted attention and importance given by the relentless media to our sensation hungry public that amazes and puzzles me.
Inappropriate occasions given incongruous attention.
The media ladles it out, and the public laps it up.

It is a vicious circle of the media and the public – they want it, we give it – they give it, we take it.

When and where does it stop?