Mah Momma is teh BESTEST

Today is the day my mother retires from 22 years of service at one central government institute. I don't know how many years she was at the one before that, and consequently how many years she's been with the central government in total. Anyway, as the only family representative in town I've been going to her various farewell parties. Sitting there, and listening to all the uncles and aunties talk about her, how long they've known her, the things she's done, etc, I almost burst with pride.

To begin, how many of us can even assimilate the idea of working with the SAME people for twenty-two years? The mind boggles. We congratulate ourselves for surviving 22 months. Or at least, I do. The sense of community and camaraderie that comes from working with the same people for that long is something else. For me, removed by one degree from these people, my memory of the past 22 years is peppered with stories about them - melting solder on one uncle's desk, drawing trees on someone else's blackboard, begging for computer paper to scribble on from a third, and so on. I remember antakshari sessions, and practising Hindi, being quiet because Amma's boss was in his room, going to flag hoisting at least once a year, demanding egg biryani from the canteen, going to Numaish with Amma's friends, and heaven know what else. For Amma, who's gone on field trips running into multiple months with these people, and has spent a significant part of every day of her life all these years with them, it must be something else entirely.

What I take away most though, is just how special a person Amma is. On the basis of science, and marking sites and setting instruments all over rural India, she has reached out to people of every imaginable type and forged these strong bonds of friendship that have reached out and embraced us as well. Her first boss was saying last night, that he remembers the first time she went to the field, they were nervous, because she was the first woman to do this kind of work (a fact she's always forgotten to mention), and the first night she didn't turn up at camp they were panicking so much. She turned up at 9, indignant at the questioning of where she was, and dismissed all the worrying and fears. She then went on to take care of all of them in the field he said. One story he told is, for me, representative of who my mother is. In the wilds of Gujarat, in her flannel shirt and jeans, burnt black by the sun, at a time when letters and occasionally telegrams were the only way to communicate, and they took their sweet time getting there, she's sitting in a jeep, with all the drivers, helping them write letters home.

That's my mother: comfortable with anyone, always reaching out to people who are generally at the fringes, careless of appearance and stereotypes. She has the largest, most generous heart of anyone I know, and its door is always open. She's blunt, brutally tactless, very far from emotional or gooey, but the immense strength of her affection will show itself in the letters she'll help you write, or the wife she'll take to hospital. I have never known anyone quite like her, who gets along effortlessly with anyone, from anywhere, in any language, of any age, and at any time. She has that rare and valuable ability to put people at ease instantly, and inspire loyalty and admiration that know no bounds. Half my own friends have adopted her - and come to visit for HER birthday. She is ready to take anything on, and her interests and abilities are so varied that I get a little tired out just thinking of them! She refuses to entertain the idea that women are weaker or less than men, and in a decidedly non-feminist, non ideological way. I cannot remember a time that we have waited for my dad, or not done something because there was no male presence. It was only later when in college I encountered feminism that I realised that Amma is that rare thing, a non-feminist feminist! She believes that anyone can do anything, if they want to hard enough. And she planted that belief in ourselves in both me and my sister - something for which I am so grateful.

Today, I sit here and think about this brave, intelligent, hilarious, generous woman, without whose presence my life would be so very boring and dull; to whom I have to talk at least once a day, if not three times when I don't live at home; without visiting whom I'm grumpy all week; for whom I'll wake up at 6am and blearily exercise; and I am very grateful to have been blessed with her as my mother. I think that if I can ever be half the person she is, my life will have been well spent.

I love you Amma, way to go!

Mahiatus

Well. I was sick and then travelling so needed small book, and while sick started on Banker's Ramayana, so the Mahabharata's been on the back burner. However, tonight will resume.

Book Reviews: Guns, Germs and Steel

I quite like Jared Diamond; I'm fascinated by evolution and evolutionary history; and when I started this book in a friend's house in Delhi, I almost wept when I had to put it down.

Cut to last week, when I finally resumed the book. The first part, where he talks of food production and its connection to development, is fascinating, especially when he first introduces it. He does a great job, taking small steps and leading the reader every step of the way. I loved how he explained the development of writing, the development of disease and it's connection with animal domestication. I was tickled by the chapter names.

But then he goes and explains everything again. In the same chapter. And then once more for good luck. And ends with a summary at the end of the chapter. I felt like I was meant to be a retarded 15 year old. Which is not a nice feeling when I'm reading an interesting non-fiction book.

Ashamedly I must admit I didn't finish it. Yesterday, in the afternoon, something snapped. I AM NOT A RETARDED FIFTEEN YEAR OLD I screamed as I slammed it down on the table. I get your point Mr. Diamond, I do. All seventy-five times you made it. Also, the Andamans are part of India.

On Reading

Following on The Bride.

I have often wondered if this reading thing wasn't entirely a good thing. Now I know this isn't true of everyone, but I for one find myself severely restricted when it comes to film, because I like to read so much. For one thing, something in me rebels by not having the freedom to imagine things - watching a movie is so passive. When I read a book I can imagine all sorts of back story, and paint in the leaves on the trees, and the creases on someone's face. Take a very recent example, when I watched Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief. I read and LOVED the whole series, and was horrified and repulsed by what Hollywood did to it. Granted, the oversimplification of the story and the complete removal of any complexity to characters or psychology was expected, as was the massive edit - the movie is essentially about 50 pages of the book. But what I hated MOST of all was how they dressed the gods. And how Poseidon looked, and Grover. Essentially, having spent so many years tapping into the internal magic of my imagination, I resent having that freedom taken away from me in movies. And this is a hundred times worse when it's a serious film, or something brutal about life etc.

Ok digression over.

I always have a book on me. Usually, when I travel, i carry one book per day, and get very upset if I don't meet my targets. I even lugged the hard cover edition of Wolf Hall all over Delhi in December, because I wanted to finish it! The Mungi was not pleased. In Goa, I refused to get into the water because I needed to finish Empire of the Moguls. I twitch as i walk past Landmark, and have never yet been able to leave a book store with one book. I even eat lunch alone a few times a week so I can catch up on my reading. I wish I took public transport because then I could read; and absolutely ADORE train journeys for all the reading I can get done.

I wonder why the reading doesn't feel like it's spilled over into writing though...

Green Revolushun

This morning, reader greeted me with this post form The Bride. Of course I had to do my own!

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on the context, I don't live in HK, so I can't do the calculation thingy. My workplace has one of those though and I usually come out in the 90s of the percent green footprint. (Wow that makes no sense.)

The things I do that I think make a difference:

1. I never open a tap on full, unless I'm filling a bucket in a hurry. I'm pyschotically anal about no drips - my maid will be happy to testify about how many times in the two hours we share the house in the mornings I will summon her to close the leaky tap properly. I have even asked her, don't you have a water shortage where you live, where do you think it all begins! Big houses who waste water! It still makes me twitch to see how people do the dishes in the US, with about half a bucket per mug. *shudder* This probably has a lot to do with acute water shortages as a kid, which meant summer baths were in half a bucket of water, which you then used to flush the loo. 
2. Point#1 probably links to why I rarely take more than 10 minutes in the shower, if that much. Am proud to say I can still clean self, this includes two washes and one conditioning rinse when I wash my shoulder-blade length hair, in one bucket.
3. I'm crazy annoying about putting off lights and fans. Poor BBot has received irate texts messages about there not being a switch elf who will turn the fan off after he leaves. NF has the habit of leaving lights and fans on, and now whenever I wake up in the middle of the night I do a little circuit of the house. Yeah, really.
4. I used to take public transport when I lived in NY, where it was efficient, reliable, and useful! I also walked a lot. Unfortunately this has not translated to my life in India - but I do drive a diesel car with no emissions that gives me 18-20 kilometres to the litre of diesel, so I'm not doing too badly. I also insist on not taking more cars than necessary - cos most of my friends live in the same area, when we go out together sometimes we end up with a car per person almost and I can't handle that. Course this means I spend a lot of time steaming gently cos I'm always 10 min early, and BBot is always 10 min late, but it's still worth it.
5. I wish we could recycle where I live. We have some sort of recycling service where my parents live though, and my mum is very big on the little-dustbin-for-vegetable-waste-to-put-in-the-compost-pit, so there's that. I also re-use most plastic take out containers, and use plastic bags from the grocery store for the garbage bins. We also use old wine bottles for water in our house, and I always carry a water bottle, thereby not having to buy bottles/use paper cups.
6. I have a one-tissue-per-meal rule. Seriously. Very rarely does one really need more than one tissue per meal, and sometimes when I see people use 5 at a time just dotting the corner of most of them lightly, I start to twitch. I also use sponges and cloth towels, not paper towels, and if its absolutely necessary to use paper - old newspapers. (There's one way the internet will never kill them!)
7. Switch off plugs when they're not being used, especially if they're plugged into chargers.
8. Am vegetarian, so yay! Hee.
9. Print on both sides. Am fiendish about this, and have actually been seen going fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK when I hit print without checking the settings. Luckily we have a shredder right next to the printer, and the shreds are recycled so I feel a titch better. I also bring paper waste from home and stick it in there.
10. Am lucky that I hate yellow light and love white light, so left to myself all lights would be energy saving. 
11. I never wash clothes hot, even when I lived in the US! I did use a dryer though, boo. But here in India, where there's ample room for clotheslines, and lots of heat and dry air, I don't.

Things I could do more:

1. Carry my mug when I got to get coffee!
2. Carry bags to the supermarket - though I do recycle the bags, I think they're less biodegradable than garbage bags, so it might be better to just buy garbage bags and carry cloth to the store.
3. Fly less. There was a time when I loved trains so much, and was so broke I never took planes. But now, especially since I end up going places that are more than 14 hours by train, and become impossible to do on weekends, and have acquired frequent flyer miles to give me free flights, I can't remember the last time I took a train. Bad MinCat.

Anything else?

Blogshetra: Away we go

The Bride and I decided to read the Mahabharata, together and in different countries. She's done this before, only that time she chose Joyce's Ulysses. *shudder*

We're also probably going to end up reading different translations, given the fact that here in desh I have access to whatever I want. Mine is Kamala Subramaniam's, and she (The Bride, not Kamala) is still deciding.

So last night, after dragging all and sundry to Landmark to acquire said book, and acquiring about 6 more in the process, I settled into bed to begin reading.

First off, I'm always nervous with translated books, especially if they are originally in a language very far removed from Latin, Greek and the Germanic languages that are the foundation of English. It really does become about interpretation, and then I often wonder how the original is. I found, for example, that W. S. Merwin's translation of Neruda's "Tonight I can write the saddest lines" is quite bad, because he Englishises the structure so much that I feel that much of the charm of the original is lost, since a lot of it lies in the inversions of word order etc. This problem is a million times worse with Indian languages, so I was very happy to see, when I began reading last night, that KS manages to keep the complicated structures and cadences of what I imagine is a chanting, sonorous, oral tradition alive. It may seem a bit...strange, because the sentences are often abrupt, and there is very little active voice, and way too many words - but that's just how I think it would be in Sanskrit. Of course, my Outer Stickler is dying to rewrite the translation for an audience more familiar with traditional English...but I can keep her in check.

The story began very simply, and very much in the way my Grandma's used to when we were children, and I slipped into it immediately. It also ran very quickly, and after Bheeshma spent several years several times over to raise various princes and marry them off and do everything but 'spill his seed' to further the dynasty, I have reached the point where he has successfully married Dritharashtra and Pandu off to Gandhari and Kunti respectively.

I expect tonight's session to be a titch more exciting, and definitely enter into those parts of the story I am familiar with (I had no clue who Devavrata was until the word Bheeshma appeared. Also, it annoys me that I don't know the meanings of these words and names - any ideas where I can find out online?)

P.S. Will post extract for Bride to read and put her out of her misery of not knowing what it reads like in this translation.

I'm trying REALLY hard

In an attempt to start writing again, here is TIME's Top 100 novels of all time from 2005, which I shall now assess and see how I measure up to it. Then I'm making a list of the books I'm going to try and read in 2005, and then maybe write about them. Though why I must choose to do this while I live in HYDERABAD, forget about India, I dunno.

Also, The Bride and I are co-reading The Mahabharata, like she did Joyce! WooOOt!

1. The Adventures of Augie March: Saul Bellow nope, might want to
2. All the King's Men: Robert Penn Warren nope
3. American Pastoral: Philip Roth nope, but I read another one by him, sort of what if Lindbergh had become President, and it was frankly, boring.
4. An American Tragedy: Theodore Dreiser never even heard of this one
5. Animal Farm: George Orwell but of course
6. Appointment in Samarra: John O'Hara nope
7. Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret: Judy Blume many many, MANY times
8. The Assistant: Bernard Malamud nope, no clue who he is
9. At Swim-Two-Birds: Flann O'Brien ditto
10. Atonement: Ian McEwan the trailer of the movie bored me so much I shudder to think of watching the movie let alone reading the book!
11. Beloved: Toni Morrison in college, and I LOVED it. SO MUCH. What a genius writer.
12. The Berlin Stories: Christopher Isherwood nope
13. The Big Sleep: Raymond Chandler I think I read one of his novels once, but was too young. Stick this on the list.
14. The Blind Assassin: Margaret Atwood I have either read this or it has sat on my shelf for ages taunting me. I think it should go on the list either way! Had her poetry in college, and loved it; also read Cat's Eye, I think, and A Handmaid's Tale.
15. Blood Meridian: Cormac McCarthy *shudder* I feel like I've read something by him... (yes I am hopeless at remembering authors' names) Sounds a bit bloodthirsty for me, but maybe it can go on a waiting list.
16. Brideshead Revisited: Evelyn Waugh Always wanted to read her because of glancing references in Wodehouse. On the list she goes.
17. The Bridge of San Luis Rey: Thornton Wilder See, just for San Luis Rey, I'll try reading it.
18. Call It Sleep: Henry Roth nope
19. Catch-22: Joseph Heller Yes, but can't quite see the brouhaha. Did read it in one sitting though, so must have something.
20. The Catcher in the Rye: J.D. Salinger Yes, and man was it boring. Sorry. I think I was too old, plus I don't really identify with self-destructive irresponsible types... yes yes high horse.
21. A Clockwork Orange: Anthony Burgess *shuddershudderpuke* Never made it through the movie or the book. Quite happy to never try again thank you.
22. The Confessions of Nat Turner: William Styron whoooo?
23. The Corrections: Jonathan Franzen whaaaa?
24. The Crying of Lot 49: Thomas Pynchon I feel like this guy is famous for a butterfly thing. Or not, his wikipedia page reveals that I am unlikely to like him. "Thomas Ruggles Pynchon, Jr. (born May 8, 1937) is an American novelist based in New York City and noted for his dense and complex works of fiction."
25. A Dance to the Music of Time: Anthony Powell nope
26. The Day of the Locust: Nathanael West nope
27. Death Comes for the Archbishop: Willa Cather nope (why have I not heard of any of these people???)
28. A Death in the Family: James Agee nope
29. The Death of the Heart: Elizabeth Bowen nope
30. Deliverance: James Dickey nope
31. Dog Soldiers: Robert Stone nope
32. Falconer: John Cheever nope, but I did read a lovely short story in college. Now if only I could remember what it was.... heh. On the list.
33. The French Lieutenant's Woman: John Fowles Somehow I've never liked the objectification inherent in that title...still, waiting list.
34. The Golden Notebook: Doris Lessing nope, and totally want to.
35. Go Tell it on the Mountain: James Baldwin wait....like a baldwin brother?
36. Gone With the Wind: Margaret Mitchell Many times. Much adore. Takes a twist of the kaleidoscope to see the good in it, and not dismiss it as "romance". I was blown away by the tapestry she weaves around the story, of the South, the Civil War etc.
37. The Grapes of Wrath: John Steinbeck nice. depressing as hell. but brilliant read that paints a beautiful picture.
38. Gravity's Rainbow: Thomas Pynchon see above
39. The Great Gatsby: F. Scott Fitzgerald read it in college and was most bemused. I don't think I ever got the poignance of it, just seemed a bit like Wodehouse, only in America, not as funny and rather more risque. 
40. A Handful of Dust: Evelyn Waugh see prev
41. The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter: Carson McCullers say whaaa? Also, I'm torn between wanting to read it cos a Boy wrote it and choking on giggles because a Boy wrote it. Waiting list methinks.
42. The Heart of the Matter: Graham Greene Ah Graham Greene. I read the one about the Catholic priest on the run in Mexico. Something and something. Or is that the Faulkner theme?
43. Herzog: Saul Bellow hrfxt
44. Housekeeping: Marilynne Robinson Again, it tempts me, but I think it's probably about some deep crisis in suburbia, not chicklitt. Waiting list
45. A House for Mr. Biswas: V.S. Naipaul See, I tried to read Among the Believers and it was horrible. Naipaul just seems like such a whiny, patronising bitch. Really. I think my horror has a lot to do with early exposure to some non-fiction of his.
46. I, Claudius: Robert Graves LOVE LOVE LOVE. Anything by the man. In fact, I think it's time I re-read this one and it's sequel. On the list to goes!
47. Infinite Jest: David Foster Wallace Something about that title makes me wary... Waiting list
48. Invisible Man: Ralph Ellison nope
49. Light in August: William Faulkner nope
50. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe: C.S. Lewis like 50 times? Much prefer the Voyage of the Dawn Treader myself.
51. Lolita: Vladimir Nabokov meh. Really overrated, either for scandal or for anything else. The one Nabokov I really liked was called Laughter in the Dark
52. Lord of the Flies: William Golding Never read it. Always had it on the list. 
53. The Lord of the Rings: J.R.R. Tolkien 13 times I think. Give me The Hobbit any day.
54. Loving: Henry Green whaa
55. Lucky Jim: Kingsley Amis Lord. I've always heard this name, and then Martin Amis of course, and I think I've read him being scholarly about something in my Literature course...but...do I want to read him? Votes anyone?
56. The Man Who Loved Children: Christina Stead Ooooo sounds interesting. On the list, if I can get hold of it.
57. Midnight's Children: Salman Rushdie done. Meh. Well, actually lovely book. but then I read a few more and realised that Mr. Rushdie, much like Sr. Márqeuz has one book to be re-written many times...
58. Money: Martin Amis see above.
59. The Moviegoer: Walker Percy I like the name of the book, and the name of the author even more! Shall try and read if I can get my hands on it.
60. Mrs. Dalloway: Virginia Woolf Ugh. Yes, I've read it. Self-obsess much anyone? I do, however, want to read and/or see The Hours.
61. Naked Lunch: William Burroughs Hee. Deffy want to read.
62. Native Son: Richard Wright no way.
63. Neuromancer: William Gibson Not read, want to read - on the list
64. Never Let Me Go: Kazuo Ishiguro Have tried to read many times...but fall asleep. Shall try one more time.
65. 1984: George Orwell read, and liked very much. Funny, I prefer dystopias to utopias.
66. On the Road: Jack Kerouac never read, allus wanted to. On the list.
67. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest: Ken Kesey Have started many times. Will put on waiting list. Maybe.
68. The Painted Bird: Jerzy Kosinski nope
69. Pale Fire: Vladimir Nabokov not really, unless Acrosticus vehemently recommends.
70. A Passage to India: E.M. Forster Lordy...Maybe next year. I think this year is heavy enough with the Mahabharata and Ramachandra Guha's history of modern India.
71. Play It As It Lays: Joan Didion nope
72. Portnoy's Complaint: Philip Roth NO
73. Possession: A.S. Byatt NOOOO
74. The Power and the Glory: Graham Greene Oooo! That's the one! Not bad, I think I might want to re-read it with my more recent appreciation of the history of Mexico.
75. The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie: Muriel Spark no
76. Rabbit, Run: John Updike nope. Read a short story, possiby a book of them, and quite liked it. Also like title. So on the list.
77. Ragtime: E.L. Doctorow not read, but I LOVE the name and the title. If-I-Can-Get-It list.
78. The Recognitions: William Gaddis never heard of it
79. Red Harvest: Dashiell Hammett He sounds familiar, but. nope.
80. Revolutionary Road: Richard Yates Lemme make it through the movie awake first...
81. The Sheltering Sky: Paul Bowles Nope.
82. Slaughterhouse-Five: Kurt Vonnegut YESYESYES! Ah I ADORE this man, shall read Cat's Cradle as replacement.
83. Snow Crash: Neal Stephenson no
84. The Sot-Weed Factor: John Barth no
85. The Sound and the Fury: William Faulkner o lordy, no!
86. The Sportswriter: Richard Ford nope
87. The Spy Who Came in From the Cold: John le Carre never read him, though my dad has em all. Shall stick in on the list for lighter reading.
88. The Sun Also Rises: Ernest Hemingway Have read Farewell to arms, and the Old Man and the Sea. Toss it on the list.
89. Their Eyes Were Watching God: Zora Neale Hurston Er...don't know how to react. Votes either way anyone?
90. Things Fall Apart: Chinua Achebe Yes indeedy, and the other three in the series, plus other ones by him. Quite liked it.
91. To Kill a Mockingbird: Harper Lee Lovely lovely lovely, of course. I'm probably the only girl I know who didn't want to be Scout. Though I might name my next puppy that.
92. To the Lighthouse: Virginia Woolf *brrrrr* no.
93. Tropic of Cancer: Henry Miller nope
94. Ubik: Philip K. Dick Been dying to read him, but am open to other recommendations by him.
95. Under the Net: Iris Murdoch My parents had one of her books, The Sea The Sea, and it always seemed so strange and scary and yet boring. Waiting list.
96. Under the Volcano: Malcolm Lowry Wikipedia leads me to think that's a yes. If I can find it.
97. Watchmen: Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons Eeeeeep no. I've tried. And even seen and quite disliked the movie.
98. White Noise: Don DeLillo Haven't read, putting on waiting list
99. White Teeth: Zadie Smith *SHUDDERRRRRRRRRRRR* nevermore. I actually finished it cos The Roommate loved it so much. But. No. Never. Again.
100. Wide Sargasso Sea: Jean Rhys Awwww read in college alongside Jane Eyre. In fact, fairly sure I did a seminar on it or something. Quite lovely.