Jayamma

Jayamma is our maid servant. She is the only person who can listen to my mom's constant nagging and has a perfect understanding.Inspite of everything, she is our maid servant for the past 15 years and still going strong. She is the only person who can listen to my mom day in and day out and still continue with her job as though nothing happened.At the end of the day, my mom is also happy with her. There is one Jayamma in every household in India.When I was small, in Trichy, we used to have Thailamma , another Jayamma. Word has it that she once saved my life. When I was 6 months old, it seems I fell from a height of 5 feet and was breathless. My sister ran to Thailamma shouting.." Kuzhandai moochu vida mantegardhu" ..She came running to my rescue , did some tricks and got me breathing alive again. If not for the resourceful Thailamma, wonder what would have happened. She used to run to the bus stop with my sisters' lunch box when they left in a hurry. We had Janakiamma who used to call my sis "Khema"( for Hema) and I was the "Sofa" (for Shobha) .What a fun that was.....I sure am proud of all those Jayammas and their patience, resourcefulness and plain niceness.

Are these innocent questions?

After recovering from my jetlag, I decided to go for a walk and enjoy the banglore weather. My mom took me to the park that she visits everyday . It was like all the other parks in banglore but filled mostly with old people, who are increasingly becoming aware of exercises for good health. The first round, I got introduced to a few of my mom's walking mates who were relaxing in a corner bench and gossiping to glory. More than the walking, it is the gossipping that brings them to the park like moths to a flame. On to the second round, when I was introduced two of my mom's mates who sounded very happy to see me...having come from the US and all...:-). While crossing them during the 3rd round, I was suddenly hit with a barrage of questions. The first one started with a statement.."Oh ! You look so young , Are you married?" . With a polite smile, I nod my head. "Oh really! Any kids?" . I answer that with a shake, which indicates "no". You guessed it right,..the next question was "How long have you been married?" .By now, I am getting a bit irritated , but still answer it with "6 years". They answer with "Wow! So, are you around 35 or maybe 30...You look like you are only 22" . Now, do I consider that as a compliment or is it necessary to let them know my original age. By now, I am thinking ...."Are these innocent questions ? Why would anyone want to know my age or if I have kids? How does this affect their life in any way? ...Before I could answer them, my mom just pushed me away and we carefully pretended to be very busy when we walked past them for our next two rounds...I knew I was very much in India that moment...Where else can you find people showing more interest in your life than yourself....

Organic?

Knowing my organic fad, my dad was all prepared to get me organic veggies & fruits for my visit home. We went to check out this place called "Namdhari" who proclaim that they have organic stuff. I walk in the store, see some fresh apples and get really excited .On closer look at the stickers, guess what, they are all imported from USA and that too California..Go figure. Wonder what's organic about it..My resourceful, beloved dad immediately walked to the counter and asked him about the fruits. The swift-minded salesman had a readymade answer that only the veggies were organic. On asked why there were no labels indicating the organic variety...he goes," Namdhari means organic...everything is organic here" Wow..what an answer..All the products there were from USA..Wonder if organic's synonymn with "made in USA".Anyway, I picked up just brocolli,which I couldn't get anywhere else...and decided to get real organic food from the local market..

An exhausted landing..

I landed at Banglore two days ago , all thrilled and excited to meet my parents and sister's family after 2.5 years .The excitement of going home was further affirmed when I could feel the heat at the airport even at 4:30 AM . On to immigration, where I was treated with a fixed stare from the INS guy, who didn't even acknowledge my "thanks" with a smile , but rather gave me a blank look and handed me the passport.I knew I was in India and somehow, it felt good too. I was one of the first few to come out of the aircraft ,having had the privilege of sitting in the very first seat in the economy class. With a big stupid ,tired grin on my face, I ran to the baggage claim , found a porter who was eager to help me. Hmmm...these porters are good.They can easily figure out people who need help and try to cash in . The understanding among the porter clan is excellent and they pick out customers without any interference. My happiness ended right there. Inspite of coming out first, my baggage was one of the last few to come out..Am I lucky or what? I was standing in the baggage reclaim area for an hour, staring at the belt where some of the baggages were going in loops again and again for want of someone to pick it up.There was a sandal and a brassiere in the belt , which I was forced to watch go through multiple rotations . There were a handful of us who were enjoying the scenario and making fun of it.I took my camera out to take a picture and was about to click when I realised that photography is banned in the airport. Thank God ! Wonder how people might have cashed in on that. Anyway, all the others went their way wishing me luck with my baggage. AND THERE IT WAS !! I shrieked with delight and shouted to the porter to pick it out before it goes to neverland...On to the customs, who got suspicious and wanted to check out my baggage and asked me about all the gifts that were inside , picking them out in the XRAY machine.It was all in negative and only black and white. It was more like a game...3 people surrounding the machine, figuring out what those items were..One guy goes.."I know thats a watch ,for sure!". I answered with a polite "Thank you for that information..I actually was not sure if it was a watch when I bought it". After 23 hours of travel, and 1 long hour of looking at a brassier in a conveyor belt, I couldn't identify most of the items in my suitcase...Finally, taking pity, the guys let me go...and I ran out to meet my beloved dad and sis......And then it hit me!!YES!!I am Home !! This is the only place where you can find a sandal in the belt, where people are not artificial nice and where people try to encash everything.....Hooray !!