Thirty minutes before our bus was to leave from Jaipur, we realized that we should have notified the Foreign Registration Office of my departure, as per regulations. Salil rushed off to get the necessary stamps…

Fortunately, he made it just in time for the bus. Having to haul all of my luggage alone signaled to me that I needed to do some lightening up. The small bag I was pulling kept wobbling to and fro, partly because of the pocked road and partly because I had packed it unevenly with over a kilo of gul kand on one side! It turns out my medicine is not the most travel-friendly as a result of its weigh. But I’d rather be healthy & deal with the heaviness… At least I have moved on from being a snack mule (I used to have to bring lots of food with me, in case hunger struck at an inopportune time).

The stamped papers turned out to be unnecessary, since the border control didn’t ask for them. He did, however, ask if I was traveling alone (and his eyes seemed to ask, “Why?”). He wasn’t shy to ask why I didn’t have kids, and to offer his condolences for the lack thereof (“That’s too bad!”). It’s no wonder that the lady who did my metal detection told me, “You look strained.”

After my normal wait to board as late as possible, I found myself behind a very well-dressed, Euro mother-daughter duo, the latter of whom was eagerly tapping away on her Blackberry with her boarding pass stub in her mouth for verification—the steward joked, “Are you hungry?” It turned out they were in my row, just across the aisle.

As we were getting ready for takeoff—switching off all devices and uprighting all chairs—the daughter was talking on her phone. Another steward repeated numerous times, “Madam, please turn off your phone now,” which she proceeded to ignore until her mom whacked her and confiscated the phone. Though she must have been at least 18 or 20, she burst into tears which didn’t dry up until well after take-off.

Once we arrived in the Zurich airport, I set off for the chapel—my chosen spot to do my Isha Yoga practices. Although I asked for directions, they only led me to the wrong side of the wall. I stopped in a pharmacy to ask again; I was reminded of how I used to love spending what could have been hours, perusing all the European healthcare products which seem so much more sophisticated and interesting than items one might find in a CVS. The employee told me the chapel was in fact just on the other side of the wall, but to get there I had to go outside of passport control (again).

On my way, I spotted the mother-daughter duo, happily doing their duty-free dance. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity; here they are, stuck in cycles of contradictory over-communication and consumption of which they are probably unaware. On the one hand, the daughter is so hooked to her Blackberry, but most likely has very poor communication with her mother, who is prone to violent outbursts. But yet they seek some connection, which they find through shopping, until the thrill wears off. Repeat.

Then there’s me, seeking free wireless. The information desk lady laughed and explained that nothing is free in Switzerland. But I had the last laugh—I found free samples of chocolate in the Lindt store just beside her desk!

I have a fiery heart

Yet, I take little pleasure in the fact that I will leave for an almost-annual visit back to the US. It feels so weird to think about going. I do want to see people, but it always brings up so many issues that I’d rather not deal with.

It feels like going back in time. Ironic to say that, considering that it’s so much more technologically advanced than India. But for me, and my personal chronology, the US is backwards!

I’ve not just left behind the people and the places–but more importantly, the parts of myself that I wanted to shed. Emotional baggage starts surfacing again the moment I think about returning.

It’s like I’m caught between two poles, neither of which is a perfect fit. I have to be the chameleon…

I like to travel light

Here’s a little story from my husband which he loves to tell but can’t take credit for because I’m sure he got the story from somewhere else. It goes like this:

A man who was about to enter the pearly white gates of heaven was greeted by an angel. The angel said, “I will grant you one wish. Anything you want will be yours. What is your wish sir?” The man knew exactly what he wanted and didn’t even hesitate to answer the question. He said, “I want zillions of dollars.” The angel looked at the man and smiled and said, “Your wish is granted.” Then, poof, she disappeared and the man was left all alone in heaven with zillions of dollars for eternity.

Be careful what you wish for. Do you really want zillions of dollars, or do you want what zillions of dollars can buy you. The pursuit of money for the sake of it only will lead you down a dead end street. There’s nowhere to go after that.

The post came at a good time, as we are trying to do some financial planning for our future goals. I used to want to completely avoid thinking & planning, it made me so anxious. My fears have subsided and I’m more able to think practically.

I didn’t necessarily think of money as dirty, but I saw so many really messed up wealthy people and I associated the two as inseparable. Instead, I saw myself as having values which didn’t coincide with the pursuit of money.

The only problem with this is the danger of resentment which sometimes creeps up on me. I can’t understand how some people in India can have so much while most have so little… But this is a global issue which can only be solved through a complete shift in consciousness.

Not all of Jaipur looks like this...

Recently, I keep starting out my posts with numbers. Perhaps it helps me to establish the landmarks, to measure my success on this uncharted path. For me, these three years are the longest ever time that I’ve been settled in one place since I graduated from high school in 1999. I’m discounting the four years of college because I moved a lot from year to year.

True, I haven’t been in Jaipur for three years straight, either. I have left for at least 2 months every year to visit family, and last year I was hardly home since I spent almost half the time at the ashram or travelling. It’s probably the only way I could’ve survived.

Nonetheless, three years with my stuff in the same apartment, with or without me. Three years of having Jaipur as home base, ready for me when I return. Three year of having pigeons as my closest neighbors.

It was in April 2007 that we came here. I want to be able to say something very insightful about my experience here, a neatly packaged byte of wisdom. But in my stupor of disbelief that I’ve made it here this long, I’m struggling to make much out of it.

Actually, perhaps the real motivating force behind writing this post, behind even the realization itself that I have been here for that long, is that we are most probably leaving Jaipur. I hesitate to give more details because that deserves its own post. But the impending departure certainly has made me recognize how settled I’ve become here, and dare I say it? Attached.

To be honest, I can’t think of things off the top of my head that I particularly like about this place, but to do Jaipur some justice, I will put some effort in and make a list:

1. Central Park
2. seeing Nahargarh Fort from my window

Ok, the list idea is pointless. It’s sounding horribly negative, which has nothing to do with Jaipur in itself–it’s more to do with my own perspective and judgements.

While now I can say that I’m in a positive frame of mind, much of my time here has not been spent in that way. Furthermore, I can say that I’ve come to terms with my previous negativity, and have reached more of a state of acceptance of life, of being here, all the pros and cons included. It’s been a sacrifice, but has held certain advantages. They’ve pretty much cancelled each other out.

Pros include low cost of living, nice apartment, being close to in-laws, being close to Delhi. Cons: difficulty in going out (weather & logistics combined), weather, lack of social circle, weather, being close to in-laws, weather…

Dear Jaipur, you’re too hot and I can’t think properly. You’ve made life difficult for me, but I forgive you.

Afrin & Tony stopped by Jaipur for a brief (less than 24 hours!) visit on their  parental Golden Triangle sightseeing tour. I don’t get many visitors here so it was a nice change. It’s always interesting to hear an outsider’s view of the place you call home. I become more aware of my own judgments and beliefs about this place, as opposed to the newcomer’s sense of awe and openness.

Coming from Mumbai and Hyderabad, Afrin is used to going out alone at night, after 10pm. I barely go out alone at all, let alone at that time. She called me once she was out, asking if it was a bad idea. She ended up being fine and nothing happened, but it’s interesting how much caution I have developed. I have basically restricted my own mobility, and claim that it’s because of the culture, or climate etc. Yet, I can actively choose whether or not to go with or against the norm.

We spent a lot of time discussing the weather, more so than the average ice-breaker. Oh, ice sounds good right now! Yes, the weather is slightly hard to ignore. It’s amazing how humans have adapted to all climates…. Surprisingly, Delhi was hotter than Jaipur yesterday and broke the record–47 degrees!

It’s always strange for me to tell the story of how I ended up here, as if the sum of the steps gives some explanation. And yet, it also allows me to see how far I’ve come. Even though it was difficult at first, now it seems like the person who lived through that was not me…

With the growth of Indian cities, people are out at all unnatural hours. But this song, written in 1931, brings up the point that before, no one would have ventured out except…

Why Englishmen? They would have had important things to do, like run a government! Conduct business! Otherwise wield their power over Indians!

This post is inspired by having to go out today at noon in the 44 degree heat, and dedicated to the courageous tourists who manage to sight-see against all odds.

I my niece will be more fearless than me when taking to India’s roads!

Via Blank Noise.

Besides the horrible way this article refers to the actresses, I just wanted to highlight that two upcoming films will be featuring women on motorcycles, and here’s what they have to say about it:

“Riding a bike was liberating. It was something I always wanted to do — it’s feminine, fiesty and fun. The thrill of speeding and the wind gushing in your face is a freedom of a different level,” says Minissha. She’s peeved that Hindi films don’t show women riding heavy bikes. But Kareena Kapoor isn’t complaining… [and] told BT, “It was a great experience.”

Minissha now wants to do more of such riding. “In the western world, not only are women truck, bus and taxi drivers, but a lot of them ride heavy bikes for pleasure. From Pamela Anderson to Halle Berry to Charlize Theron, they have all shown their biker attitude on the silver screen. Why shouldn’t Indian women push their speed limits!”

See my longer post on women riding motorbikes.

The fact is that women in most countries are expected to be compassionate, nurturing, and to put their own needs aside on a regular basis. In most Third World countries, a woman’s primary job is considered to be homemaker and mother. Few ever have the opportunity to pursue an interest, much less a job or career. If a woman is not compassionate, she is considered a bad woman. Even in more modern societies like Japan, women are still supposed to make their husband and children the primary focus of their life. For this reason, many Japanese women are deliberately delaying getting married, since they know that once they do so they will be expected to stop their career and make homemaking their major occupation. The same is true in many Middle Eastern countries and in India.

In my practice I have worked with many Middle Eastern and Indian women whose own mothers were pressured into getting married. Far from being compassionate, they describe their mothers are harsh, critical and impatient. Sensing that they may be the same way with their own children, they resist getting married. But they receive so much pressure from their families that they usually give in. They end up not only sacrificing their own lives (many would prefer to have a career) but their future children’s lives as well since they find they cannot emotionally connect with their children or that they take their anger and frustration out on their children.

This links to my recent UV post where I referred to the idealisation of sacrifice, and when it is forced everything goes awry. In theory it sounds nice, but actually we all have hopes and dreams for ourselves which often do not fit with society’s expectations for us. So the cycle of suffering keeps getting perpetuated…