A Friday Evening

In a long time, I have never spent an evening like the way I did last Friday. In a cozy restaurant, typical of a romantic dinner setting in a Maniratnam movie, four hot girls and one pregnant lady spoiled the quiet dinner for a few lonely firangi guests and a couple of couples that had chosen to dine in that star diner that day. Thankfully I was one of the girls and not one of the other guests :)

This place we had chosen was about 2 minute drive from where I live. So the friends came over for a quick chai and chitchat. We did consider ditching the dinner for some in-house order in party, but we decided against, because we did not want any husband to enter his home and ruin the gals-indulgence.

The restaurant had lovely décor, amazing ambience (for us), and scrumptious slices of pizza, delicious desserts and mediocre main course. However the highlight of the evening was not the food per se, but the never ending entertainer in the form of S speaking three different dialects of Tamil that R did not get a word of, and yet laughed. I think I was too awestruck to even laugh, J was crying from the laughing and as Sh did not want to upset her make up, she held herself from laughing and crying. Holding that thought, was that the highlight or was it the “P” language that S, Sh and J spoke like that was their mother tongue leaving R and I in the dark? Am not quite sure. Or was it really the pizza that the pregnant lady had for starters, main course one and main course two? Or was it all the giggles of the happy girls that drove the rest of the guests away?

But in the end it was truly one of the nicest evenings gals!

A Monday morning

Rushing out
Empty thoughts
Familiar click
Throw the bag
Shut the door
Misty mind
Blacked out
Zoom and out
Swift Slammed
Shiver and sweats
And it was over

A mid week afternoon in Bombay

My laptop had gone bust for a week – yeeah!
Though I almost lost a part of my functional arm, I quickly realized it was a blessing indeed. I spent the day exploring Bombay- something that I could not do in the last couple of months.
Stepping out armed with the camera, some cash and an umbrella I walked for about half a mile. I saw a deserted bus stand. Though I have crossed this way just about a million times I have never stopped to wonder who took buses from this depot and to where. Now I did. I walked in and quickly realized to my dismay that all the numbers and destination details were written in Hindi  or was it Marathi?
hmmpphh…. Disappointed I kept walking and spotted a bus that had a couple of people inside. Hesitatingly I asked the woman on a window seat where the bus was going. Well I was gonna board irrespective of where it was gonna go. But it would be sheepish to ask for a ticket to the conductor to wherever the bus was going. She said ‘Bandra’and I boarded the bus. So now armed with this piece of information, I asked the conductor if the last stop was Bandra, and he said ‘Bandra Depot’ in the most stern and practiced voice.


I settled in a comfortable window seat, took out my camera for some shots of Bombay. Before I could click a handful, Mr. Rain arrived to include a drizzle in the landscape of Bombay. In about 1.5 hours after multiple rounds of waxing and waning of crowd, the bus cruised into the depot. After 15 minutes of auto ride, I was in Bandstand.:) It is a beach, well technically, but nothing like the beaches that I have been to so far, as there is no sand on the shoreline here. The shore is dotted with many rock forms and couples in love alike :). I thought who would be here on a mid-week afternoon? What was I thinking? After all, there are all these schools and colleges that work at that time and the young teenagers escape the boring class rooms to a more enchanting bandstand….

Thankfully there is a Barista (and also a café coffee day) facing the sea for those like me and I sipped on my lychee frappe drink taking in the view of the Arabian Sea until my hubby joined me after work!

Ladies - do you agree?

This is a thought that I have been meaning to pen down for a long long time. Today I had another trigger. So here I go.

There is a growing certain kind of women- the kind that’s not too hung up on coy, demure and small feet.

So what has been the best present you have got from your husband/fiancé? Responses have changed from expensive sarees, gorgeous necklaces, chocolate covered strawberries (well, one can never really resist those), surprise romantic trips to the more empowering ones. By empowering ones, I mean the ones that give you ‘wings to fly’ (in one of my friends’ own words). Like a GPS for the direction challenged wife, support to pursue a hobby or a profession for wives that weren’t exactly headed that way, new gym gears to keep up the motivation etc. Well you get the drift?

Well, I do agree that one needs to go silly and crazy and indulge once in a while. You would be considered boring otherwise ;) After all, no one gifts their girl friend a GPS on their third date, whereas chocolate and strawberries would be in. However in long standing relationships, IMHO, the need to feel empowered outweighs the need to feel pampered.

Well, would you agree?

The Goan experience!!

Rain danced around us playing hide and seek, more seeking than hiding, ugh, in our 3-day Goa trip. The vacation was officially over yesterday and we are touching reality. The experience was surreal, looking out into the rains that were as relentless as the waves hitting the beach behind our resort. Nevertheless at the first sight of rain slowing down, we donned our brightest blues and oranges that were packed for a Sunny Goa into the beach for a breathtaking picture session. Right after the rains, the waves still hitting huge tides and clouds teasing to come down pouring any moment, we hurriedly tried to make the most of our time- had an awesome couple of hours of the beach. The vast expanse of the ocean has always enthralled me; the sheer power and tirelessness and this time was no different. Except that it was my very first encounter with the Arabian Sea. Unconsciously I was always comparing and contrasting with my own marina beach. This one much smaller, with coconut trees on the shores was a much different spectacle I must say. In that aspect, it was also very different from the NJ beaches- Sandy Hook and Cape May and probably closer in comparison to the Portland beaches of Manzanita and Cannon, may be the west facing has something to do with it?

After the brief pause, Mr. Clouds again showed its might. As I sat on the balcony of a simple Udupi restaurant watching the rain and sipping Chai, I wished that time could be frozen forever. Indian Chai is best at the local shops rather than the multi star resorts. I remembered the morning chai that was served along with the breakfast in the resort. It was prepared for the firangi palate, almost black and flavorless. Soon after, we huddled back to the warmth of the resort suite.


Next day, braving the incessant showers, we took the city tour bus to take a south Goa sightseeing tour – so much unlike us. The first stop was to see the Old Portuguese mansion and museum. Pretty low key I would say if you have seen any of the mansions of Newport, RI. However what stood out was the generous ventilations that looked into beautiful gardens. The insides are pretty Spartan with furniture more functional than aesthetic. It included a little handicrafts museum showing the lives of yesteryear Goans and their livelihoods – wine making, pottery making and of course fish delicacies. Then we stopped at a couple of temples – these are reconstructed after the originals are destroyed by the Portugese invasion. One of the characteristics of the Goan temples is the Lamp tower or Deepmal or Deepa Stambha. Another characteristic is the Dome above the garbhagraha- probably a Mughal influence. St. Francis church is a major landmark in Goa, where the body of St, Francis is kept even today; he died in 1552. The architectural grandeur was apparent.
After a brief lunch stopover, we headed to Dona Paula, essentially a suicide point where Dona and Paula ended their lives. However the rain gods intervened and made the best spot of the day drown in its celebration. We witnessed the heaviest downpour at this spot. Except that there are no pictures, it truly was a breathtaking experience. Then the bus stopped at the Miramir beach to announce that it is the dirtiest beach in the state and that all the industry pollutants join the sea at this point. I wonder why! The last stop was at an aquarium, where the various sea flora and fauna were kept in captivity. Again, we aren’t great fans and hence could not wait to get back to our resort to unwind after a whole day of outing.

The third day was the highlight of the trip – nay the rains did not stop, however we decided to confront it head on, on a motor bike. What a pleasure?! On a Pulsar, under heavy downpour, with neither direction nor destination, we aimlessly rode on the deserted long stretches of roads, greenery on either side. Too bad there is no coastal road. However, we just kept going, until we got worried about the petrol in the tank. It was one awesome ride of our lives. We were reminded of our Martha’s Vineyard moped trek in September 2008, though the weather was much better then. Once again, the evenings were well spent with Jacuzzi, magazines from the resort library and plenty of football.

Any Goan experience is not complete without the mention of cashews. Apparently even wine is made out of cashews. We had sumptuous dinners every evening at the resort. Goan style pancake is a rolled pancake with the typical “poornam” (coconut and jaggery sweetpie)stuffed in it. The highlight was Bibinca, a layered pastry like dessert made out of maida, coconut, cashews etc. Was delicious!!

One of the most relaxing trips in a long time- simply because we had nothing to do thanks to the rains!!!!

Since we bade bye to Hyderabad.....

What a journey has it been? This last month, since we packed all our stuff into nine little boxes to Bombay! Since then we have time swapped our lives across Chennai, Madurai , Gangtok, Darjeeling, Bangalore and Tirupati. All along we have lived off suitcases – eeck! Always carrying laundry :(

Finally it is bliss to settle in a home which has my whole wardrobe. There is this t-shirt of mine, which is black, which is not very surprising, which creeps into my luggage trip after trip, destination after destination unfailingly. As much as I love the shirt, I hate to live off a subset of my clothes. At all points in time, I want access to my whole wardrobe only to pick the same t-shirt time and again:) This can happen now….

Today I am happy because I have something that resembles a home, and a decently equipped functional kitchen. I am happy my stuff from Hyderabad arrived in one piece and it was such a pleasure to just see all those things that I haven’t seen in a whole month! How materialistic am I? :(

Anyways, here is the detailed account of my Himalayan pursuit. After about 48 hours of train, plane, bus and van and sitting through a Bengali movie (called the Japanese wife!) to get a feel of true Bengali culture, we were finally in Darjeeling. The van dropped us off on the street and pointed to a building that was perched on top of a small hillock and said that was our hotel. While we were still taking in the panoramic valley view; we were confused as to how to reach that hotel with our luggage? At this point, a woman of about 50 years talked to us in broken Hindi that she will find a way to bring the luggage to the hotel and struck a deal. We were still perplexed but said okay. To our complete shock and embarrassment, she neatly packed about four suitcases on a crisscrossed rope and slid one edge of the rope like a head band on her forehead and started walking up the hill with the weight weighing her back down. We were simply dumbfounded. Human labor is just too cheap in India. We were about four of us each about half her age together spent Rs. 80 to shift the labor of lugging our own luggage on to her. I was truly ashamed….

And the next two days we spent ‘sightseeing’ Darjeeling- Mirik lake and Sunrise@ Kanchenjunga both of which refused darshan due to cloudy weather. Of course then, we went to patel points including Peace Pagoda, Ghum- the highest (7407 ft) railway station in India, costumed photo shoots in the tea plantations :D Funny experience!

The third day, we set off towards Gangtok. On the way, we decided the test the waters of Teesta! We got on to a raft and did what was called ‘white’ water rafting. Except for about two or three rapids, water was hardly ‘white’. It was more like an enjoyable boating on a sane and serene river.

Gangtok was more beautiful than what we had imagined - clean and upscale. Apparently everyone in the state of Sikkim gets free education till twelfth class and also given a loan to buy a taxi and taught driving if need be. And tourism is expensive here. Every city taxi is an Omni and adheres to weight limits. Without luggage only four people are allowed to travel in one taxi. Small shops and businesses have their earmarked districts and they all seem to be doing well. We observed an insane number of salons and spas in this area. The fine for littering is heavy and looked like people respected those rules.

Local culture was interesting - visiting local points of interest including Hanuman Tok, Ganesh Tok, Himalayan Zoo, Do Drol Chorten (a stupa) , a flower garden. We also enjoyed local cuisines - Thuppa a certain local noodle soup dish was particularly delicious.

And then the highlight was the trip to Baba mandir and Tsongo lake. Simply stunning views. Fairly snow clad and comfortably cold weather up above 14000 feet; awe inspiring mighty mountains- definitely a moment to cherish. A little above the famous Tsongo lake is the lesser known Manju lake which was no less beautiful. On the way back especially with needle like flurry falling outside our windows and land sliding traffic jams ahead of us, the snow covered yaks in the backdrop of fresh layer of snow on the lake water was such a pristine picture. Our cameras did not do justice to the splendid spectacle. Apparently the roads leading up to these points were opened only on that day after being closed down for about 10 days due to bad weather and earlier landslides. The rescue operations were still on. The people that guard the borders are true heroes. So it wasn’t exactly a safe journey; a tiny slip and you would be in pieces. However it was the fitting finale to a very enjoyable trip to the Himalayas. Thanks to the wonderful bunch of friends that made the trip possible and more pleasurable!

On the way back, we spent one day in Kolkata. We are still trying to figure out why?! Gardens around the Victoria museum and a buggy ride outside the Victoria museum, Saurav’s restaurant on Park street together may be can try and answer that question. However the culture of Kolkata lies in the maddening crowded streets of Bade Bazaar. The heat quotient made us opt out of shopping, however the rest made up for it!

That apart, the home made food and dear family took good care of us in the last month..... :)

When is the next vacation? :D

A life that was!

Dedicated to all the lady-spouses at ISB who have enjoyed and endured this last year!

Nostalgic it is….
But this is not a totally unfamiliar feeling. I was getting nostalgic about the first few days at ISB when many firsts happened. First time I stepped into the atrium, first time I went in search of the bookstore, first time I searched for a rest room in the academic center, first time I met my neighbor P, first time I met someone who was having breakfast by herself and the conversation sparked immediate friendship. Many firsts and everything took me back by a year.

In about a week from now I am going to be out of here. This is also not an alien emotion. I felt it exactly a year ago while moving out of our apartment overlooking Hudson and while we took off from the Newark airport with no return ticket. Yet what is different about now is that we have always known that this day would come and exactly when it would come. We always knew ISB was a temporary phase of life, and that we would have to say bye-bye to the beautiful campus, refreshing night walks, wonderful studio and all the nice housekeeping staff that made our living in Hyderabad so much more pleasurable.

What we did not know was that the friendships formed years after childhood, years after school and college would still mean something and letting them behind was going to be difficult. It has been an amazing year of forging new friendships, friendships of a different kind, with the kind of people that are from an entirely different culture and geography. Strong bonds of friendships are usually formed at the tender age of innocence or the confused age of adolescence. IMHO, most of the adult life relationships tend to be more business like and judgmental. But here at ISB, I was made to rethink my opinion as there was something common amongst us all spouses, something unfulfilled and some shared pain that made a lot of us feel connected in some way or the other. It was the first time for many of us to have so many married women as friends. It was not an uncommon event to share our pretty personal qualms with other spouses here.

The common vein was mostly the overworked husbands and of course the famous mother-in-laws. I am not sure how lasting these relationships are, but I am certain its one of a kind that rings a special point in our lives back in time.

Hampi- Fascinated & fatigued!!

Two days later, here I am still alive from a trip that was both exhilarating and exhausting. The journey started in high spirits. Ten of us cramped in a cabin of a train played mafia. Between the first two games, mafias and villagers got even and were well fed to a delectable spread of dinner with cuisines from across the country. When we did realize that the whole compartment save us was trying hard to sleep, we hesitantly closed the session for a short night’s sleep. A woke us up at the ungodly hour of 5 am and said that the train was running ahead of time. Amidst skeptical looks, foul breaths and empty water tanks in the train, we passed the most difficult 40 minutes of the trip cursing A.

Checked into our rooms; we had a relaxing morning coffee. Overlooking a scenic and rustic garden interspersed with little cottages, under a cool early morning sun that was still making up its mind to peep out or hide back in, we lived our life rich :) (Now, that’s a term I picked on the trip thanks to a certain Laadanandji) Soon after that, complying with Indian Standard Time, we were ready by 8am for a 7:30am call at the breakfast table. That’s the convenience of being in India eh?



Treating the tummy to steaming idlys, toasts and corn flakes, and indulging ourselves to a few quick shots under the camera, we left promptly for the day’s sight seeing. In the first stop, we saw a partly restored monolithic statue of Lord Narasimha. There is a Shiv ling next to it. I wonder if this was the age when Shaivaites and Vaishnavaites lived in harmony with each other.

As the sun ascended in the sky to scaring heights, we were sheltered in an underground temple that housed some more Gods. The guide narrated the story of Kannapa Nayanar – see pic.



Sun continued its ascension. And we continued to brave the heat. The Zanana enclosure- the harem for the royal and the dancing women housed a center courtyard where various cultural compositions were played for the amusement of the kings and the queens guarded by eunuchs on three watch towers around the area. Architecturally advanced, these open air courtyards had the effect of an Air Conditioned auditorium due to the water lines built within the structures.

Another interesting observation is the communion of Hindu and Muslim styles in these structures. Vijayanagara kingdom was really a religiously tolerant empire that employed a few thousand Muslim soldiers in its army. They were eventually defeated by an insurgency from within on the face of a rare unity of four deccan sultanates against the empire. For some reason instead of taking control of the region after conquering the army, they plundered and reduced it to a ruinous state which is only partly restored to this day.




This slew of structures though architecturally superior, was aesthetically average. The ornate designs and minute carvings were missing. One of the other temples, the hallmark of Hampi has musical pillars. Apparently, the carnatic swaras could be replicated by tapping on these pillars. There were also certain pillars that could create the sounds akin to an instrument. The highlight of the day was the sunset view. From the uneven rocks across the plain ruins we could see a brilliant ball of golden yellow slowly losing sheen and sinking for the day. The sunset I thought progressively sped as if in a hurry to flee from the throngs of people marveling in the spectacle.

In sometime, we were back in the resort for a dip into the swimming pool. Though it seemed like it was relaxing, the moment we got off the pool in the late evening, we realized we were really exhausted for the day. We had a fairly quick dal-chawal type dinner. I was probably asleep in less than thirty seconds after eyeing the bed.

The next day dawned early, but beautifully to a hubby-ordered chai on the verandah of an exquisite cottage with the most delicate warmth of the sun. This is such a simple and a primal pleasure that everyone could indulge in every morning, day after day. Yet we usually choose the cozy bed and a lazy sleep. I wonder why?



That day, we decided to be more sensible in our sightseeing escapades, so we settled for a visit to the Virupaksha temple followed by a slow and soothing boat ride across the Tungabhadra. The best part of the day was the ten of us taking an auto ride together with the men doing the acrobatics and women getting squeezed and cooked in the heat. Quite a bonding opportunity :D When the sun was directly above our heads and when the sun screens and water bottles were getting emptied at the same rate, we decided to call it a day and headed home to a game of Pictionary and random rants nestled in a cool room.


After sun down, A & I had our first experience with a camel ride and with Rajastani food. Both the experiences were unique and satisfying. Thus ended our two day sojourn to the heat capital of South India.

In these two days we managed about 1000 pictures from various crazy angles, permutations of people, and combinations of coolers and caps. Why compromise on our little treasured keepsakes?

Lighten the stress!!

Scene: At ISB
Context: Placement season

Gal1: my husband found a job yesterday. Am so relieved!
Gal2: Cool congrats. Happy for you guys! My husband is not placed yet, it is quite stressful for us. Where are you guys moving to?

Gal1: Calcutta
Gal2: oh no!

Gal1: why? Calcutta is not so bad?!
Gal2: OMG! I hate Calcutta.

Gal1: why?
Gal2: because my in-laws live there….. that would be more stressful. Stress of not finding a job is manageable! You made my day!

Rest of the gals: ha ha ha
One guy in the scene: a face that says “don’t know where to look and how to react”

Travel-planalogue

Well, there is an upcoming travel plan. If everything goes as per plan,(well, we all have been taught to show reverence to nature when talking about the future :D) we will be one of the living witnesses amongst the ruins of Hampi. Yay!


ISB in all its glory of being the 12th best B-school in the world did its bit in being a great environment for the spouses on campus. May be if the ranking framework factored that in, ISB could be a whooping first- who knows?! Anyways, almost all our outings in Hyderabad have been with a bunch of friends. My two year old niece can count only till 2 and she can count how many times, my hubby and I have been out by ourselves :D The other times, our romance (?) has been graciously checked by our fond friends who love to hangout with us ;)

So Hampi is another such tour coming up! Apparently it is so ruined, that it can engage us for 4 days, but we would have to pick and choose the most ruinous parts to finish the scene in 2 days and 1 night. Wanna know another highlight of the trip? We are gonna have to walk a lot! Of course I am excited for A, his only overworked muscles are on the fingers thanks to keyboard and now he might just have to work other muscles too.

Can’t wait!

p.s. All our friends who love to hangout with us – we love you!

To God

I dreamt
I hoped
I failed.....

There is still hope
And faith
Your dream is better for me
Show me Your dream
I am waiting

Merry Christmas From Hyderabad!

Under the star lit skies
Reflected off the moon lit pool
There is joy in the air

With Santa behind you
Tucking neat presents under the tree
There is joy in the air

Hubby honey baking
A Christmas cake
There is joy in the air

Darling kids singing
Christmas Carols
There is joy in the air

Happy families skating
On the sheet of white ice
There is joy in the air

Serene Sunrise
On a misty winter morning
There is joy in the air

Wish you a Merry Christmas!

Btw, In Hyderabad we have White Christmas!
The sun scorches you until you blanch white!

Memoir of R2I

How long is the blog due?!

ISB is beautiful. Hyderabad is enchanting. The growth I see around the city is remarkable. I am truly happy to back! Back to the city where the old and new live in harmony.

The many new malls that have been added to the landscape showcases the young money flooding around here. Stand in IMAX and you could be in Hong Kong, there is absolutely no difference. Wealth is splurged with no reverence. Right from Ratna Deep to City Central, goods and brands from the consumer country USA rule. Even the guarded secret of Durgam Cheruvu is highly commercialized. It is one rich city is a really poor country. Anyways, I have to applaud the corporation for having maintained clean parks, roads and safe pathways. Of course, my experience is highly limited to the “shuttle route” that ISB bus takes ok, that means that we don’t own a personal vehicle of any kind. Right now, not adding to the carbon footprint!

Life at ISB has been a delight to say the least. Except for the constant scare of snakes, and all kinds of wild reptiles, insects and may be even boars it is the place to be. The luxury of hiring a house maid! Wow! Without sounding condescending, I should say that this is the best part of being in India. While India is largely poor, I also have to admit it is largely lazy. Hence good workers in this part of India continue to impress me, right from the auto rickshaws, house maids to chai wala, they seem to have good work ethics and I really respect them for that. Touch wood.

My job here entails me to interact with a few people from the academic circle and it is quite an experience. The hours are awesome. The work profile is quite unstructured and the hence the scope of learning is way better than what an industry job offers. Besides, there are a zillion things on campus to do. Fitness workouts, Spanish classes, public speaking sessions, yoga, magazine publishing and photography – there is just not enough time to do all of these. Plus, I have made some dear friends that make the place even more endearing and enjoyable.

In all, exactly three months after I set foot outside the United States, I am not disappointed. While the emotional attachment to the first life I had as a home maker raises its head from time to time, I think I truly enjoy the transition back to my home country! There is definitely no regret! R2I is here to stay!

On a different note, I am glad India lost in the world cup! Hope this gets A off the couch!

Going back to India for good ..

4.5 years - thats how long I have been in this country as a student, as a wife, as a H1B person in the American workforce, as a New Yorker, and more. There are a million relationships I am leaving behind; taking only the memory with me in the next few hours, in the 20 hour flight back to India, back to my home.

Its quite a conflict of emotions running right now.

R2I

In what seems like a whirlwind of time, the last four plus years has zipped past me in a myriad of eat outs, cooking, schooling, working, travelling, moving, losing, gaining and smiling!

I am not sure if the feeling of leaving the coveted United States of America has sunk in yet. Those days that unfolded with long lists of words from Barrons remain agonizingly fresh in my memory. Life got fast forwarded and the circle is drawn. I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything else in the world.

My experiences are truly enriched by the people I met here, the ones that reshaped the course of my life, the ones that turned me from being ignorant to informed, the processes and systems that made living seem so much easier on the surface and so much scary down under. The jobs that always swayed above quick sand, the economy that swelled and plunged, the hurricanes that left people thinking beyond, the elections that played politics, the winter that leaves one cold and numb – it all added to the multitude of perspective.

So many reminiscences flash down the memory lane, faster than I can consciously think. I can’t record the emotions that are running through me right now- the entire gamut from excitement, joy, poignant, uncertain, insecure and bloody shit scared. Sometime I am sane and think straight, but most times my emotions take the better of me and I get lost. I seek guidance from my sources of strength (read I pray like I have never before). And then I feel a little sure and certain, however I realize I am so human and falter again.

However in the grand scheme of things, I am definitely looking forward to the suspense in the life forward.

God, stay with me!

A fresco painting

Apparently this is a popular subject for many paintings in the 15th century times. It shows the mythological giant man carrying a child across the river. It was his job as summoned by the elderly people of the town in his pursuit of reaching God. He was a 12 feet tall man that wanted to work for the most powerful being in the world. After spending many years with the Satan, he realized that God was more powerful than Satan and started his quest to see God.

As he was a Giant man, he helped people cross the river by carrying them on his shoulders. Anyways, as you might have guessed, carrying this kid made him so physically exhausting and the river turned unusually violent lending the child to reveal himself as the infant Jesus.



Hence he got the St. Christ(opher- meaning carrier).

Anyway apart from the mythology apart, this painting is done in the fresco technique by the famous fresco master Domenico Ghirlandaio. In this technique, pigments are mixed with water and applied to the fresh plaster made on the wall. As the plaster sets, the chemical reaction makes the plaster become part of the wall. Also, since the painting can only be done on the fresh plaster, the artist has to divide his painting into sections and plan to finish each section in one sitting. This division can usually be made out on a close up view. Fresco paintings have to be transported along with the wall that it was painted on.

Did you notice a flaw in the painting?
Look at his legs above and below water. May be in the mythological books, light does not refract on the surface of water ;)

Dagon primordial couple

It is a couple carved out off a monolithic rock – the man and the woman symbolizing equality and complementing each other. The figurines look very alike except for obvious physical differences of the sexes. The woman holds a baby in her back symbolizing her role in the society as the pro creator while the man holds a quiver on his back denoting his role as the provider and protector. In this culture, the equality of sexes was important and hence the figures are even made to look the same height. Another distinct feature is the degree of bilateral symmetry making them each a part of the whole bringing about the integrated and harmonious union of man and wife.




Also the couple is seen sitting on a stool which has legs indicating their ancestors as a way to acknowledging the importance in making them who they are. The interpretation of this piece speaks a lot about the culture and society in that day and age in Africa.

Aristotle with a Bust of Homer

The king of Spain commissioned Rembrandt to paint “a philosopher”. This generic commission left Rembrandt with a great deal of freedom to choose his subject. His end product was an oil-canvas painting showing three subjects connected by a deep philosophical thread.

Aristotle, the greatest philosopher of all times is seen standing with his right hand placed on a bust of Homer and his left hand on his hip touching the heavy gold chain that he is wearing. The interesting aspect of the painting is the third character in the painting, Alexander the Great seen hanging in the form of a pendant from his gold chain.




In the Iliad, Homer explains the many rules of the game of life, the decisions and their consequences in practical life scenarios. Aristotle, the teacher and a contemporary of Alexander gifted him a copy of Iliad that became one of his prized possessions. With these seemingly fragile connections, one of the interpretations of the paintings is that Aristotle by placing his dominant (right) hand on Homer and by placing his inferior (left) hand on the golden chain symbolizes the nobility of Iliad and its teachings in comparison to the smallness of power and wealth of Alexander and his invincible kingdom.

While the intent of the artist can never be proved, and part of the plan was probably leaving the painting for possible interpretations, I found this interpretation very profound and insightful.

Time and again, I am touched by the wisdom that history has left for us.

MET

Finally fighting the inertia and the cold, we went to the Metropolitan museum of art, New York today. It hosts magnificent pieces of arts from across the globe bringing bold histories to the new york city.

Some of the exhibits really picked my interest – it brought my artistic perspective to the fore ;)

More blogs to come on this topic.

Hudson water landing !!

If you haven’t seen the news, here it is -

I was at work when I came to know of the incident. I felt weak and shiver positively ran across my spine. And then I followed the news and was in relief and in awe of the phenomenal rescue efforts. Time and again, New York does not fail to impress me. If such mishaps have to happen in the world, let it happen in New York, because that’s where the impact is minimal –what an incredible effort.


I am especially inspired by the pilot’s reaction to the incident. Supposedly he was calm and composed, took important decisions and maneuvered the plane to land on water, like that was his daily routine. Wow! When failure is not an option, don’t you panic? Probably not!?

I don’t know how you can commend the heroic efforts from the rescue team. I am sure there are atleast 150 families who bless them whole heartedly.

If you were on-board,

It’s quite a life-enriching experience for the common man on board. It’s like having a second chance to live. It’s like you had an eternity to reflect on your past life, before you were lunged out to safety. Lastly, it’s one reality check for us to think beyond economy, losing jobs, mounting mortgages, broken relationships, and petty fights and find that common ground with that entire dissimilar unrelated people in our society.

Again it happened in New York, in my backyard. NY inspires in ways more than you know!