Sunday, August 23, 2026

The Silence and the Song

The air inside the apartment was suffocating, thick with Vikram’s voice. Two years into their marriage, Mira had realized that his meticulous perfection - the pre-planned dates, the curated gifts, the seamless charm, wasn't thoughtfulness. It was a monologue. Vikram occupied every square inch of space in their lives. Whenever she tried to share an opinion, he effortlessly talked over her, refining her thoughts and improving her sentences until her distinct voice simply dissolved. She had become a shadow, quieted into nonexistence.

When she packed her suitcase, Vikram didn’t ask why; he lectured. He paced the floorboards, cataloging every kindness he had ever performed, labeling her cold, distant, and ungrateful. Mira didn't argue. She no longer had the words, nor the desire to find them. At the door, she turned to the man who lived inside his own echo.

"Vikram," she said, her voice thin but level. "Next time, try listening. You might find there’s someone else in the room."

The divorce was easy; reclaiming her voice was not. The claustrophobia of her marriage followed her everywhere, lingering until an autumn afternoon when she sat buried in a novel at a neighborhood café. She was so deep in the text that she missed the barista calling her name.

A warm cup settled gently onto the wood before her. "Book that good?"

She looked up into the soft, attentive eyes of a stranger. Instinctively, Mira opened her mouth to apologize, bracing for the inevitable correction or dismissal. She paused, waiting for him to fill the silence. He didn't. He simply stood there, waiting.

Before she could stop herself, the words spilled out - first haltingly, then in a rush. She spoke about the novel, the unraveling themes, the slow ache of losing oneself between the lines. Suleiman, a college chemistry lab assistant accustomed to the quiet hum of Bunsen burners, didn't cut in. He listened.

In the months that followed, their café table became a sanctuary of weighted pauses. Suleiman rarely spoke of himself. Instead, he offered precise, gentle questions, giving Mira the one thing Vikram had systematically stripped away: room to breathe. Slowly, she reclaimed her opinions, her laughter, and her cadence. Between them, a delicate rhythm took hold. Mira was the speaker, finding her footing; Suleiman was the anchor, quiet and patient.

When the sun dipped and the café lights dimmed, Suleiman returned to a different kind of quiet. He unlocked his apartment door to the rhythmic, mechanical wheeze of an oxygen concentrator.

In the amber pool of a bedside lamp lay his sister, Ruqayya.

A car accident three years prior had stolen her movement, leaving her still and silent beneath the sheets. Yet beside the bed, the steady rhythm of the monitor and the faint, responsive flutter of her pulse told him everything: behind closed eyes, she was still there, listening.

The moment the evening nurse stepped out, Suleiman transformed. The reserved listener from the café vanished. He pulled a wooden chair close, took Ruqayya’s limp hand in both of his, and brought the room to life. He spoke for hours into the stillness, animated and elaborate. He painted vivid pictures of the chemistry lab, laughed through the daily drama of his students, mapped the shifting colors of the sunset, and recounted every detail of the woman named Mira who was finally learning to speak again. No observation was too small, no tangent too trivial. Beneath the lamplight, Ruqayya drank in the flood of sound, traveling to worlds she could no longer reach on her brother's breath.

It was a delicate reaction - change the medium, and the same element transformed entirely. In the afternoon light, Suleiman was the stillness Mira needed to find herself. In the midnight shadows, he was the roar of life Ruqayya needed to stay found. He was the silence, and he was the song.


Friday, June 26, 2026

20 years, one constant.. the story of Google and me.

Circa 2006, my relationship with the internet was just starting out. I vividly remember plugging in a physical telephone wire, clicking a sequence of "Done" buttons, and waiting through a screeching symphony of static and beeps from the dial-up modem to establish a connection. What followed was 15 minutes of carefully planned activities to maximize my time "online." I’d blast out two emails I had meticulously composed ahead of time in Microsoft Word - one to a Google recruiter and one to my single friend abroad. Then, I’d refresh my inbox while staring at a painfully slow loading bar, fervently praying that the friends who promised to be on Yahoo! Messenger were actually there. Twenty minutes max, and then I’d shut it all down. Internet billing was per minute back then, and exceeding a ration of an hour a week would have been financial blasphemy.

Fast forward to 2008. I was two years into my job and enjoyed unlimited internet access at work at a rising tech giant called Google in Hyderabad. But back at my apartment just ten minutes away, I still had zero connectivity. My evening routine became a game of data hoarding before I left for home. I would sit at my desk, watching gray progress bars slowly buffer episodes of my favorite series so I could watch them offline that night. God forbid a video ever crashed on a cliffhanger; I would literally flag down a rattling auto-rickshaw in the humid Hyderabad night, race back to the office, and buffer it all over again.

By 2010, the BlackBerry era had arrived. Every corporate climber at work was handed a device, suddenly convinced they had reached the absolute pinnacle of human evolution. The office corridors were alive with the frenetic, plastic click-clack of tiny keyboards as a handful of folks aggressively hammered away with their thumbs as they walked.

As the years rolled on, my personal life and technology both raced forward at a breathless, almost cinematic pace. On one hand, I transitioned from buffering videos at a desk to holding the entire internet on a smartphone; on the other, I navigated romance, marriage, buying our first home, and welcoming our first baby and capturing every moment on a device in my hand. Notably, I even managed the adventure of losing my laptop, passport, and all other forms of ID during a business trip to the US. I even managed to convince the TSA to let me catch a domestic flight from Seattle to SFO without a single physical ID, simply by showing them pictures of my identity documents I had judiciously saved on my Pixel phone.

Then came the gray hairs, team switches, and a massive cross-continental move. Suddenly, we were walking the very same streets and sharing the same experiences as the characters in Silicon Valley and The Big Bang Theory - shows we used to watch in awe on questionable streaming sites back in India before the true streaming revolution arrived. Before we knew it, we stopped taking large-format mental snapshots and started capturing terabytes worth of our wild adventures on the cloud. Personally, we navigated the road from visas to citizenship, bought a home abroad, flew on a plane piloted by Ajith, ran into actual brown bears in the wild, survived a global pandemic, and welcomed our second child after a whopping nine-year interval.


Snapping to the present, the world is unrecognizable from the one where I started my relationship with the internet and my relationship with Google. Dial-up is history, phones are flawless sheets of glass that we barely even use for talking, and we are actively weaving AI into the fabric of human existence. Yet, only one thing has remained an absolute constant for me: waking up every morning as a Googler.


In a world where change is the only true certainty, Google has been my anchor. So even after two decades, I take none of it for granted: I still pinch myself when the elevator doors open, I hear the familiar hum of the office, and I walk to my desk. It might sound clichéd, but I am incredibly grateful for these 20 years of luck, grit, and grace that got me here and kept me here. As the world continues to spin faster than ever, I’m hoping to hold onto the most valuable thing I had back in 2006: a beginner's mindset.
.......
PS: Vint Cerf, recognized as one of the fathers of the internet and famous Google employee recently celebrated his 20th Google anniversary at 83. Sharing one of my favorite pictures from Google - the selfie I took with him as we collaborated on a project back in 2017 ❤️

 

Sunday, January 11, 2026

Patriarchy, Phulkas, Paychecks and everything in between: The 5 Indian Gen X/Y Men...

After 20 years of navigating the corporate corridor and social circles dominated by men - I’ve noticed a pattern. The higher middle to upper class Indian family man from the 60s to 80s is currently in a fascinating, sometimes messy, state of evolution caught between the "values" of his father and the "vibe" of his Insta / LinkedIn feed. Depending on his personality and how much he’s unlearned, he usually falls into one of five categories described below.


Note: These are frivolous broad urban archetypes and recurring patterns observed by me to invoke conversation and humor, so I have deliberately kept it light, airy, decent not ventured into deeper areas of psyche and behavior (which is not uncommon unfortunately)


Saturday, January 3, 2026

On my mother in law...

My mother-in-law Maniammal Devakumar passed away on November 20, 2025. For 2 weeks after her passing, I had so many reflections crowding my mind, but nothing concrete that I could write down. Finally when my sister-in-law wrote a moving tribute as her daughter on Facebook, I was able to anchor my thoughts as the “perspectives of the daughter-in-law” 🙂
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As an individual...

My MIL was, without a doubt, one of the most disciplined people I’ve known, and I don't use praise lightly. She adhered to her daily routine with an almost sacred commitment. If you observed her for a day, you could map out her precise actions by the clock - her bath time, her meal prep time, her phone calls time, and her afternoon nap time.

She was also incredibly resourceful and fiercely independent. Since my father-in-law passed 18 years ago, she managed life on her own terms. She handled the marriage of both kids, navigated countless medical appointments, multiple hospital stays, her personal finances and overseas travel with confidence, minimally asking her children for help. She made 20 long-haul flights back and forth from US post her retirement all the way up to 2025. Of those, Ajith and/or me accompanied her the first, third and last time while every other time she flew solo. She had a reliable contact for every need - auto drivers on speed dial and relatives and friends within reach, knowing exactly who to call for what. She even knew when to reach out to my parents in Kolkata for things they would best assist with! 😄

She was just smart! If people gave her advice she did not agree with, she never argued, she’d listen but ultimately do what she thought was right. A funny anecdote on her smartness - One day my mom and MIL were both standing in front of a shelf of sarees. I was describing to my mom in Bengali which one to pull out. My mom was confused, but my MIL, who didn't speak or understand Bengali instinctively reached out and pulled out the right one. We all laughed at how she followed my Bengali directions faster than my bong mom 😛

MIL was superb with interpersonal relationships. She kept in touch with everyone, some yearly on birthdays, some monthly, some weekly and some daily (as though on schedule!). It was only after she passed that I realized that her regular messages to her daughter and some close friends were a clever alerting system: if people didn't hear from her, they knew to check in. (No more hate for ‘good morning’ messages, people!). She had a lovely close group of forever friends in Chennai and also created her own group of Bay Area friends from her yearly visits! She maintained a healthy relationship with my parents staying in Kolkata with them for weeks, visiting them with her friends and going on trips with them without needing me as a go-between!

And she loved to socialize with just about anyone. During her US visits, her happiest days were when we had visitors at home or we were visiting someone. All our friends have interacted with her multiple times and when she'd be back in India, she'd ask about everyone by name, genuinely curious about their whereabouts. Once we were at a camp at Larsen Volcanic National Park, and two heavily tattooed men on humongous Harley Davidsons rode up to the cottage next to us. Next thing I know, my MIL had made friends with them and was posing for photos with them and their bikes to share with her friends in India! 😬

When Taanu was born, Aunty was born as a grandma. Though she struggled initially to adjust to a new relationship dynamic, they quickly developed the most magical grand parent-child bond, much like the one I treasured with my own grandmother. All the way up until 2025, every time MIL visited from India, Taanu would move her pillow from her room to her Paati’s room and camp there for the entire 5-6 months she stayed. Paati had a gentle, patient, and friendly way with children; she managed all 4 of her grand children effortlessly, without ever resorting to coercion. They adored her easygoing nature and gentle affection.
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As a Mother-In-Law…

MIL and I first met in 2007; DH and I got married in 2010. It was not an easy adjustment for her - a Hindu, Bengali, non-vegetarian, non tamil speaking girl from out of town for her Jain Tamil vegetarian son from Chennai! At first, she secretly hoped the fling would pass. When the relationship was here to stay and we met multiple times, she once gently suggested I consider turning vegetarian. I half jokingly replied, "I could give up my fish if you could give up your dosa, Aunty!" That set the record straight and it never came up again! She quickly adapted to value our "odd combo," and we built a rhythm that weathered years of living harmoniously together.

I called her 'Aunty,' and we were both clear that marriage didn’t instantly make us mother-daughter like is believed in many indian cultures including mine! I had my mother, and she had her children. But it didn't diminish our bond either. Our relationship wasn’t overtly cute or mushy, nor was it fake, strained or superficial like the stereotypical saas-bahu sagas - we were like partners with common assets and mutual respect and got along better together under one roof than I would perhaps with my own mum 😂

In the kitchen, we had an organic division of labor on regular days. When we hosted guests, especially for a South Indian meal, we would plan together. If we decided on 8 items, she'd volunteer to make half while I made the other half. MIL would send me a grocery list on Whatsapp and start on her cooking a day in advance (since her ability to do much in one day was limited). There was one time when she was done with her entire share of cooking while I was yet to start and asked if she could take over my set too. I gladly delegated and gave her all the credit for the sumptuous meal. Likewise, she would openly praise my south indian cooking skills in front of everyone and was especially pleased when one time I invited all her bay area friends for dinner and cooked a meal for them.

If she had an unfulfilled bucket-list item, she would let me know, somehow believing it had a better chance of being fulfilled if I caught onto it. Whether it was about visiting temples on all special occasions (birthdays, anniversaries), or going to a particular gold shop on an exceptionally crowded day (where others would refuse), or seeing the Niagara Falls, the Grand Canyon, or the Taj Mahal, or Rajasthan, I feel fortunate that I was able to chase down many of her desired destinations over the years. My special memories are from when she saw/experienced snow for the first time in July 2017, or when she was beyond excited to be at the Niagara falls and when she pushed herself extra hard and walked double, probably triple her capacity to explore New York downtown in July 2019!

She loved going out. In the US we always picked houses close to a park just so she could walk there easily in the evenings, often with Taanu in tow. However, if she did not get her park trip for a few days in a row (mostly because it was too cold for her), I would call from work and ask - want to go out? She was eveready for this and as I would pull up the car into the driveway early evening, she'd be dressed and waiting post her afternoon nap and tea! Our outings weren’t fancy: sometimes just getting groceries, picking up the kids from school, driving to a class, visiting the temple, going to the park, or shopping followed by dinner. In recent years, besides the frequent South Indian restaurants, she developed a particular fondness for Radhe Chaat. There, we’d split two or three different stuffed parathas and a bowl of Shrikhand for a simple, hearty meal with the kids.

I always worried about her very fragile health and proclivity to fall violently sick over the most innocuous ailment. She appreciated me nursing her back to health after her near death encounter of 2012 and several hospital visits since. However, during her US visits, my fear peaked due to the unreliable healthcare system here specially for a visitor. I would constantly monitor what she ate in my characteristic bossy style. If she resented it, she never showed it to me directly 😉
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This is toooo long a eulogy already (and I know you've moved on!) and yet I have so much more to say! How do I write in brief about a person I shared a huge portion of my adult life with under the same roof - spent most time with right after my husband and daughter...But I must stop now! 

In parting, Aunty, I am glad you are reunited with Uncle up there - I hope he's buying you flowers to match your saree as you both ride to the beach on his bike! I am truly grateful to God that you were active until the very last week of your life and experienced a peaceful passing without prolonged suffering surrounded by all your loved ones. I always worried about being far from my parents and you during a crisis. It must be your good karma that ensured we (your son, daughter and family) all received the right signal in time and were by your bedside to say our goodbyes while you could still see and hear us. Your daughter and son definitely, but Taanu and I needed that closure as well. I will always remember you for your wisdom and promise to keep your legacy alive by keeping up the beautiful relationships you introduced me to and recreating the signature recipes I learned from you. Rest in peace. ❤️

Thursday, January 1, 2026

2025

2025 was a sobering year. It taught me, more than ever, that very little is truly within my control. The only thing I can influence is how I show up—keeping my humility, my humanity, and my humor intact for whatever remains.

On Humility

I have always maintained that life has been kinder to me than I ever imagined it would be. Not a day goes by where I don’t marvel at the life I have: a loving family, a dream job, a beautiful home and more. When I look closer, I realize I am a lucky recipient of good fortune. I could have just as randomly and easily been born into a different family, a war-torn country, or a persecuted minority and living a nightmare instead of a dream. Also, even good fortune can turn into fate in a single stroke. What I "possess" is not entirely of my own doing so it is not something to feel entitled to or smug about. It is a gift held in trust and humility.

On Humanity

Because I know how fragile my own "good luck" is, I want to move through the world with a deeper sense of humanity. It’s the simple, golden rule: What would I want to receive if the tables were turned? It sounds easy, but when life gets in the way, it’s the hardest thing to remember. I’ve found that whenever I start to lose perspective or forget my privilege, the universe has a way of grounding me.

On Humor

Often I keep coming back to Rabindranath Tagore’s words: সত্যেরে লও সহজে (accept the truth with simplicity) from his poem বোঝাপড়া that has become my North Star. Crude translation of one verse ...

Not all were made to your size
Nor were you made to fit all,
Some push you to the edge
While you get some to play ball-
But why must there be
So much of stress and aching?
If you reach for it the right way
Bliss is there for the taking.
The dawn’s light still feels sweet
The sky still stays as blue
When death comes, suddenly it strikes
That Life is the better of the two.
For whom the tears flowed
And without whom nothing seemed right
Now it seems even without
The world glows no less bright.
Tell thyself today,
Whether the truth be stormy or breezy
Let it on your mind sit easy.

I’m striving for that simplicity and humor. I want to be the person who doesn't default to offense, who assumes the best intentions, and who can still find a reason to laugh when things go sideways. The underlying truth is really not complex unless we make it so...
|| The Hard Truth ||

2025 tested my resilience multiple times. It brought near death misadventures, health scares, family crises, the deep ache of losing a family member, and repeated trauma from these. Every time I thought I had just weathered one storm successfully, another wave struck, knocking down my confidence. It showed me that no amount of resilience is "enough" if fate is set against you and it reminded me that when everything else is falling apart, my humility, my humanity and my humor could still be strong anchors ⚓.

Pura Vida, 2026. Let's try this again.

Friday, September 25, 2020

In memory of RBG, don't give up the good fight- woman are still a minority!

If you are part of a minority group, any minority group, you have a responsibility to affect change for your community for all future generations to come. Nobody could have taught us that better than Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

To be truthful, I did not know of her as much until after her death. Now the more I read of her, the more I want to learn and the more my eyes well up with tears rioting for release. To think that this woman, this diminutive soft-spoken woman made such fundamental changes to what we take for granted today is nothing short of confounding. Without her work (link) as part of the US Justice system

- state funded schools in the US could choose to not admit woman
- bank accounts or mortgages could no be held by woman without a man co-signer
- equal pay for equal work for woman and men would not have gotten better
- pregnant women at the workplace would not be protected
- same sex marriages would not be a reality

These are all the things I take for granted today thanks to this woman's groundbreaking contributions! This woman who cared for her newborn daughter and husband suffering from cancer at the same time all while attending Harvard herself and typing papers dictated by her husband for his academia! This woman who herself suffered 5 bouts of cancer and underwent chemo and radiation therapy without missing a day on the bench even at an advanced age of 67 and beyond. This woman, who, even in her death, makes history for women as the first woman to lie in state at the US Capitol after 34 men have had this honor in the last 160+ years.

All of us women, all around the world, must honor her legacy by doing our part in taking this crusade for equal rights forward. Not all of us can be legends, however a crucial step for womanhood each of us must undertake is to believe in one self, in one's ability to be an equal player at home and beyond and to not let anything deter from that faith. Covid has pushed woman's liberation back 20 years with far reaching social and economic consequences from mass unemployment and from the need to provide in-home childcare the burden of which falls disproportionately on women. However, this is not the time to give up - this is just our first of 5 cancers and we must forge forward, with more resolve than ever before! Women must participate in decision making, women must be independent and women must insist on equal rights at home and beyond, with parenting and economic contributions shared with men. 

Let's not give up on the good fight! Let us all, in our small ways, be part of a history where our daughters and granddaughters can look back in disbelief that there was once a world where equality was not a given.

Sunday, October 27, 2019

An ode to Kali, my inner goddess!

When Durga and her assistants struggled to destroy Raktabija the demon due to his ability to repeatedly clone himself with every drop of his blood, the furious goddess summoned Kali!

Kali is said to be the anger that burst from Goddess Durga's forehead. Once born, the black goddess slay all the demons she came across, stringing their heads on a garland around her neck. It seemed impossible to calm this most powerful form of shakti so the mighty Shiva eventually stopped her by lying down in her path.

Kali is a most unconventional woman, with knife dripping blood and a skull-topped staff, decorated with a garland of severed heads and a skirt of dangling arms; with a deep red lolling tongue and bloodshot eyes impetuously slaughtering and devouring evil, dancing with one foot on a collapsed Shiva...she is every bit the antithesis of Parvati!

Even in domestic matters, Parvati calms Shiva, counterbalancing his destructive tendencies while Kali provokes his mad, antisocial, disruptive nature. "It is never Kali who tames Shiva, but Shiva who must calm Kali!"

Kali reminds me that in a world of dignity for all, there needs be no patriarchy or matriarchy, male chauvinism or feminism, beautiful and ugly.

Kali reminds me that women need not doll up to portray their sexual appeal; or unequally take on the role of the keeper of the house or nurturer for the child- women should be an equal force within and without taking the world by storm with their inner strength, slaying the demons along the way and standing tall radiating their inner beauty.

Kali reminds me that truly honorable men would not hesitate to lay at their women's feet... Shiva the protector of the universe softens Kali's wrath amidst her frenzied victory dance by surrendering to it. Their relationship here illustrates the interaction between the benevolent and the destroyer, not the man and the woman. They portray the Yin and Yang of creation, the power couple of universe that grabbed gender bias by its balls!



Thursday, February 14, 2019

Perhaps this is as good as it gets

I am not able to get over the deep burden of sorrow that heavily weighs me down some days!

Today is Valentine's day- so much joy and celebration for many people and yet so much sorrow for so many others. 40 soldiers were killed in Kashmir today by terrorists- what must their spouses feel? What memory will Valentine's day invoke for them the rest of their lives? India will retaliate and yet some more people will die- does it matter which side the people dying are on? The loss that those left behind feel- is there any way to fill that void? Does war victories help diminish the pain?

Valentine's day 12 years back is also when my father in law passed away. Every year this day brings profound sadness to my mother in law and imagining myself in her shoes, I feel deeply sad as well.

Back to today, with a heavy heart I dropped my daughter to school and was driving to work- there was a beautiful rainbow in the sky. As I looked at it, the well inside me broke and I started crying uncontrollably over the steering wheel for those who lost their loved ones. Will they ever look at a rainbow again and feel joy?

I came to work and I work at my desk- but I am sluggish and disoriented. I go get coffee and stop at the bathroom. There I run into Marian Croak. (Aside: I recently read about her to my daughter. Marian was named the 2014 Black Engineer of the Year award and FireceWireless Most Influential Women in Wireless. My daughter's been such a fan that she wanted to talk about Marian in her class when she was the historian for a week and responsible for reading history snippets. While I could not explain to my daughter what VoIP means, which Marian is credited to develop a lot of, I told her this women invented the infrastructure that supports the video chats with her grand parents in India and she has been in awe!)

Marian is so so sweet! I told her my daughter is her fan and she so very humbly said I should introduce them if I ever bring her in to work :) I took a picture with her to show my daughter- surely that will spark joy for her this Valentine's Day!

The world is full of horror and beauty in equal measures. There must be some balance and some meaning to all of this in totality. 

''And still this emptiness persists
Perhaps this is as good as it gets
When you've given up the drink and those nasty cigarettes
Now I leave the party early at least with no regrets
I watch the sun as it comes up I watch it as it sets
Yeah this is as good as it gets''

Friday, July 13, 2018

Bear Encounters at Katmai National Park, Alaska!


"A beary beary scary experience at Katmai!"
Written by the friendly: Ajith Kumar (my husband)

Katmai National Park is one of the most prominent destinations in the world to see, observe and photograph Brown Bears (aka grizzlies). These are some fearsome beasts that need to be treated with a lot of respect as they are very temperamental and could go curious to furious within seconds.
This American national park is only accessible through air from Anchorage and number of entrants into the park is highly regulated. Brown Bears roam freely here and the visiting humans have to walk through the woods for a couple of miles (without any protective enclosures) to access the Brooks Falls Platform where the bears congregate to hunt the abundant sockeye salmon fish.
Early July 2018 we visited the park (husband, wife and 5 year old child). We transferred from Anchorage to a small unpaved airstrip in Kulik. We were accosted by thousands of mosquitoes on arrival before boarding our float plane for a short flight to Brooks Camp where the bears abound. Landing on an unpaved runway and flying on a float plane were both firsts for us, but more adventure awaited at Katmai.
After landing at Katmai we proceeded to the National Park Services visitor center for a quick orientation on etiquette to follow during our visit. This was an important session as the tips provided came in very handy later that day. We were told that we were highly likely to share the trail to Brooks Falls with bears. The rangers made it very clear that bears were not to be messed with (especially if its a mother with cubs) and a respectful distance (50 feet for bears alone and 100 feet for bears with cubs) should always be maintained at all times. More importantly, no running if you are accosted by a bear as that would kick off its attacking instincts and prompt an attack. [Read more here]


With palpable nerves we commenced our walk through the woods. In disposing off the food we had carried in, we took some additional time and the companions from our flight were long gone into the woods. So it was just the 3 of us and the single track leading us to Brooks Falls. We crossed a small bridge, met a friendly ranger on the other side and proceeded along the trail (with bear scat littered) confidently after a report of no bear sightings in the vicinity. We chatted loudly and sang songs to alert nearly bears of our presence and keep them away as per the instructions. However, as we rounded a corner we saw it...
A mother with 3 cubs about 50 yards away, purposefully striding towards us on the human trail. Not another soul in sight! We cautiously turned around and looked for an escape. Luckily the path we were walking on had a fork to the left and we saw a National Park Service jeep parked there. We hastily made our way there (the jeep was of course locked) hoping that the bears would just continue along the straight path and not take the fork. Well, of course they had to take the fork as well. We felt like sitting ducks - the worst possible combination of coming face to face with a family of sows. Within moments the bears were right next to us while we stepped further to hide behind the jeep. Shaon kept talking in a calm voice so as not to startle the bears and to alert them to human presence in the vicinity. The bears were only about 10 feet away from us when the mother briefly paused in her stride to look directly at us (we were completely frozen in fear) before sauntering on her way along with her cubs. I was able to get a hasty shot from behind, blurry because of my shaking arms.

We waited a few minutes before heading back to the main path. None of us, daughter included, would even heave a sigh of relief until much later. We were well and truly spooked and daughter wanted to get on my shoulders immediately (understandably so). We had another mile to walk to get to the safety of the platforms. F**k!


We just had a very narrow scrape with 4 grizzly bears (a mother and 3 cubs) and had made it out unscathed and still had a mile to walk up to the Brooks Falls Platform where we would be safe from stray, uncontrolled encounters. My daughter had gotten onto my shoulders with a scared expression and while we humored her, she nervously giggled and kept repeating how now she was a 'scaredy cat' - I should have told her that it made 2 of us in fact...
We made it back to the fork in the road and continued along our way. As we proceeded further the path narrowed in to a single person trail with heavy undergrowth on both sides. We were still all alone and continued talking loudly among ourselves so as to alert a bear to our presence. We approached another bend in the road and Shaon whispers urgently in to my ears - BEAR!
This one was jogging straight at us - oh god, now what! At the interpretation center, they had told us that after a mother with her cubs, the next most dangerous thing to possibly encounter could be a bear running at you - it is angry and needs to take it out on someone/something. However, there was a slight difference as this one was jogging. It appeared that it had some place to go and it was making haste to get there faster. They had told us - get off the bear's path and step into the bushes. We duly did that. The jogging bear was approaching us and we were literally only 4 feet away from it when it paused, gave us a cursory glance and proceeded along its way. We heaved a sigh of relief while our daughter let out a loud whimper this time - this was too close! The running bear paused and briefly turned towards us, eye to eye. Shaon kept talking in an even voice and helped calm our daughter. The bear lost interest in us and went on its way. Whew!!!
By this time I was shaking in my boots. We were deep in the woods and had no choice but to proceed to the platform. After a walk for another 15 mins with heart-stopping turns around a few corners, we finally saw the blessed gates and quickly got on to the platforms. On arriving we reported our sightings to the forest ranger after finally finding our voice and went on to the platforms to observe the other hunting bears from a safe distance and height.
We had to go back though at some point. All the 3 of us were too nervous to go back on our own and looked for other company to get back to the interpretation center. We found 2 other friendly souls walking back and tagged along with them. One of them even had a bear spray canister (which I should have carried myself if I had planned better) and we made it back safe and sound back to the interpretation center.
The intervening period on the platform would have to be one of the most engrossing wildlife experiences we have ever had as we saw the aplomb with which the bears were fishing and the most dramatic sight of a salmon jumping straight into the jaws of a waiting bear. We even saw 2 of the dominant, resident males almost come to blows over fishing rights before better sense prevailed and they both stood down to fight another day. You can find some of our videos here, here, here and here.



The national parks service has conveniently located a webcam just below the platforms so anyone with a decent internet connection can see live the activity as visible from the platform. You can see it here:https://explore.org/…/br…/brown-bear-salmon-cam-brooks-falls

Tuesday, July 10, 2018

We are only as old as we like to believe

One thing that repeatedly amazes me about the US is its senior citizens' willingness to not let age be an inhibitor for anything. This feeling was hugely enhanced on our recent trip to Alaska where I ran into multiple extremely up and about older folks!


Our bus driver in Denali National Park regaled the ~45 tourists on the bus with stories from her 18 years of riding people around the park. The bus ride was ~200 miles and officially 12 hours long but it lasted 15 hours because she was too intensely passionate about ensuring everyone had a good time and got the best pictures of nature and wildlife.She had started her day at 3 in the morning and was going to drop everyone off and head home by about 10 pm. And she'd often mention her 4 kids and many grand kids with equal affection and candour. She was more than 60 years of age and I could swear I could do with a lesson or two on being high on life from her. Mind you, unlike in India she was single-handedly responsible for the bus and tourists as driver, conductor and guide!! 😇


Then there was the 80 year old yellow cab driver from Israel who could tell us the price of every house on the way to our BnB in Anchorage... he had an idea for a supposedly million dollar GPS business for yellow cabs in Alaska if my husband was willing to partner with him. 😆


I also remember fondly that really old super cute gentleman on the Denali bus who ran to the Park Ranger to get a stamp on his National Parks Passport like he was a 5 year old. His excitement was palpable even at the end of 12-13 hours of bus ride and hikes! And the Park Ranger himself... Clearly one of the senior most in service at Denali (70 or so of age) - guided us through the Kantishna district hike and gave us presentations about the history and stories of the land like it was his first demonstration- the pride with which he lugged around his 2 bags full of historical exhibits and the authority with which he told the tales of the land brought vivid images of the difficult times and mining heritage of the place for all of us. Age wasn't a factor in his sprightly gait nor was it limiting his ability to provide everyone with an experience they'd forever cherish!


But I digress! This is really the story of Jim and Judy, our extraordinary hosts at Judy's Touch of Class BnB at Anchorage, Alaska.


My husband prefers the privacy of hotels while I love the element of socializing that a BnB provides so usually we split our vacation stays into a little of both. In Anchorage I booked the first 2 days at this BnB that is the house of Jim and Judy, house where they've spent 57 years of their marriage and raised their 3 daughters (currently married and settled elsewhere in the US) and now often entertain their 13 grand kids.


They were high school sweethearts, met in Grade 10 and dated 7 years before they married. I quickly rounded up that they were in their 80s! They have this large beautiful home of which they rent out 3 rooms to have company of Alaskan travellers not because they need the money but because they have this otherwise huge empty house that can be put to good use and they love to host and enjoy the company of travellers.


Jim offers to pick and drop his guests to and from the airport and downtown any time of the day and Judy makes an amazing hot breakfast (although their website only mentions continental) as guests gather around the breakfast table and mingle. The house is beautiful, full of heirloom knickknacks and weathered goods, quirky sign posts and gorgeous upholstery and is immaculately maintained by the residents. The three guest rooms have 3 themes - Rose , Lavender and a Nautical suite (in the basement) and each is a treat for home enthusiasts such as I. There are some amazing picture frames as well - of Jim and Judy's 50th wedding anniversary recreating the wedding cake from 50 years back alongside that of their wedding picture from the era of black and white. There is another of them wearing matching clothes with their 13 grand kids - ranging all ages from 20 to 1 (several of them adopted and equally loved)

From Judy's BnB


Jim is so so funny I was tempted to recycle his jokes as my own and Judy is warm and gracious. She shared with me that she suffers from some fairly serious age-related ailments but none of it seemed to take the slightest away from her immaculately ironed shirt or the tasty hot breakfast she served or the 10ish ice cream bins they laid out for my daughter and us post dinner. During the day Judy was hard at work with a huge project  underway in one of the rooms- she was sorting through hundreds of family photos, cataloguing them and pasting them in scrap book pages to preserve the memory of their good life.


Jim is also an active pilot, owning his own plane and ever willing to provide his guests a flight tour weather permitting. For this summer, they had one of their grand daughters visiting and in charge of housekeeping - she was an absolute sweetheart as well and my daughter had the best of time playing football and pool and whatnot with her while exploring the nautical suite [Check out Trip Advisor Reviews here]


My husband and Jim after taking a ride on Jim's plane


On our second night, we bonded with another senior couple that were visiting from New York. They were retired and well travelled and had many stories to share as well of their children, grand children and life.


Staying at Jim and Judy's was one of the 2 high points of this trip! Besides my awe and wonder, Ajith (who I said prefers privacy) was also absolutely enamored by our hosts, their personality and spirit. And they left such a deep, deep imprint on my 5 year old's heart and mind as well that she constantly mentioned how she misses them over the next few days!


We cannot decide how long we live, but it's certainly upto us to live it well. The level of independence, alertness and mobility Jim and Judy demonstrated despite obvious ailments, made me want to be them.


In India, where I come from, there is a constant awareness of 'old age' right around retirement which is mostly around age 60 and beyond that there is a sense of dependence on children and helplessness without them that I am being increasingly led to believe, is often more psychological than real. Do you agree life can be way more rewarding if we forgot our age?

Sunday, April 22, 2018

4 tips to being a better parent to a teenager or young-adult


Parenting teaches us new lessons at every step of our child's life. While it may seem counter-intuitive, a large number of parents tend to struggle more as children grow, with a high degree of estrangement happening between parent and child as child gets to young adulthood. It was a prominent feature in my early adulthood years as the child and now I hear some of my older friends with grown children lamenting this has been their plight as parents, despite best intentions. My child is very young but as an offshoot of the conversations I have been having, I wanted to learn more about this matter to be better prepared for my future. Here I am sharing a gist of some of what I thought, heard, read and learned. I would love to enrich this summary of that with additional inputs, so please share feedback...


One would imagine it's easier to deal with an adult (or semi-adult/quasi-adult) kid. Adult to adult, it's all reason and common sense and should be so simple! And yet, we could not be farther away from the truth. Young adults and mature adults have very different perspectives. Ultimately, one is venturing into brand new territories while the other has been there, done that and wizened from their experiences and mistakes. Also, with changing times, the definition of right and wrong is constantly evolving so what may have been the best solution to a situation 20 years back, may not be the righteous path anymore.


As parents we often tend to be deeply protective of our children (well, duh!) and sometimes we show our protectiveness through an abundance of either
  1. correcting, cautioning or reprimanding children for (what we think is) wrong behavior or
  2. getting worked up about (what we think is) wrong and expressing our anxiety in big and small ways
While these work quite well for small children, parents need to exercise extra caution with older children as they branch out to a life of independence on their own. Tact needs to be the keyword in every interaction.


Deep concern and involvement in the child’s matters are absolutely golden parenting moves, you must think. Who if not a parent will look out for the child and help them even before they step into 'trouble'. If not for this, what good is in being a parent? While the emotion is fair, sometimes we get carried away with our urge to over-protect. Unfortunately for everyone (including these children) some mistakes have to be made for certain lessons to be learnt. Not everything can be taught. Some allowance must be given for children to experiment with their lifestyle choices, operate in the grey, stumble into the dark, recover from the shock and brace for life!


By being over-vigilant, as parents we tend to push the child away and make them unwilling to share their unformed or uncertain ideas and their deep, dark secrets. More than the fear of making a mistake or taking an uncertain step, the child is weary of the parent. Our anxiety or intense reaction is what they want to avoid most of all, not by not doing what they want to do but by hiding it away from us. So what should we parents actually do??


First, Build trust
As a parent, we are better served if our kids come to us no matter what and confide in us. If they tell us what's on their mind and what they may be struggling with we should help them by being approachable. So encourage that relationship... Take away the fear.


Second, Listen and Ask
When they come to you at their weakest, listen and then comfort. Hold back on the urge to provide direction, to jump in and fix things for them right away. Ask them if they need anything from you and if yes, ask how they'd like to be helped? Wait for them to articulate if they are looking for just a listener or guidance or more specific support. Don't assume. If they trust your motivation as a friend, they'll ask for your advice. If they suspect you are being an over-protective or angry parent, they'll recoil. If they have benefited from your deeper involvement and appreciate it, they'll say so. If not, stay put. It's ok, you cannot live their life for them, at least not always. So restrain the urge to jump in and save the day!


Third, Judge Not
Don't try the I-told-you-so approach ever, that is the worst of all the moves that furthers estrangement. Trust me, the child knows... Say it in your mind if you must! You do not need to rub it in. Also remember, you have had the advantage of being them (the child) before you became the parent. You have been in their shoe but they haven't been in yours. Cut them some slack. To quote Dumbledore from Harry Potter, ‘Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young’.


Fourth, Don’t Panic
Portray a sense of calm strength no matter what. If you are a nervous puddle yourself or are easily excitable, mostly anxious or quickly angry, your adult children will not confide in you. Even if you truly are that way, for your child's well-being, mask it and try to act put-together. They will want to save you the trouble if you are prone to anxiety and will want to deal with their mess on their own leaving you in the dark. If you want otherwise, prove to them from as early in their life as possible that you are the pillar they can lean on. This is an action that needs to start right away of you are a parent, no matter how old your kid is!

Disclaimer
While tips sound easy and fancy, every child is different, so is every parent and hence every parent-child relationship is unique. While the above ideas may generally hold true, there is a lot of allowance to be made for the personality of the child. For example, as against the guidance with #2 above, some kids may naturally crave more direct involvement even if they don't say so... hence it is also important to watch out and adjust accordingly. Seasoned parents seem to suggest that a trial and error approach helps them arrive at the most tdeal approach for their relationship!


Some helpful books on the related topic








Monday, February 19, 2018

Respecting choice, celebrating being independent and living it up!

D= daughter, H= husband

This was a long weekend (Monday being a holiday) with the husband away camping at Death Valley National Park. Daughter and I were welcome to join but this time I wasn't in the mood for adventure that involved hard work so while he set off before dawn on Saturday morning, daughter and I snuggled in and snored.


Husband's weekend set-up at Death Valley

When we woke up, late and rested I felt the panic need to whip up a a meaningful weekend to make up for D missing out on the outdoor adventure. We started with sitting by the balcony in the golden spring sunlight while I massaged her hair with warm oil and ate our breakfast. Daughter also sorted her new snowflakes toy by colors in preparation for her playdate later in the day. We then set out to make some brown sugar raisin oatmeal cookies, a monthly mother daughter activity (Pro tip: I use whole wheat flour instead of all purpose flower and half the suggested sugar to improve on the healthiness of the recipe. This and a glass of organic whole milk is D's regular breakfast before school). D's contribution to the preparation was reasonably higher this time- she even cracked the eggs herself :)! Once I was satisfied with the dose of Vitamin D and life skills for her, we set the cookie batter to cool and went to shampoo our hair.

My late morning coffee and me, happy to chill :)

By the time D's school friend arrived for their playdate at 2, we had finished bath, lunch, some matching nail art and setting the house in respectable order. Over the next 4 hours as the kids turned the house upside down (of course!), I had the chance to nap a little, cook a wee little and generally catch up on some alone time.

Matching nail-paints for D and me!

At 7 after the other kid left, we set out for a pre-planned sleepover at my friend's place. There I got the much needed dose of adult conversation for sanity while D played with their 1 year old happily. We went to bed at around 12 am :O

Next morning we woke up late and explored my friend's backyard, picking lemons, discussing life hacks and and gorging on yummy Indian breakfast. Closer to the afternoon we left their place and proceeded to the city library. D read 2 books to me while I read 3 to her, picked a stack of 15 more and left. We went to Target (store) to shop some essentials, shopped way more than needed and while I left with guilt, the daughter hummed along happy with her new acquisitions! We proceeded to partake a late lunch of mom-daughter favorite Panda Express noodles, Orange Chicken and Honey Walnut Shrimp.

D picking books at the city library
D and her absolute favorite American food!
We came home to some household chores until it was dinner time. I had been secretly nursing a migraine all day and by now I decided I had to pop a pill. I made a quick but healthy scramble of eggs, split lentil and veges (to compensate with vitamins and protein for the junk during lunch) before daughter joyously hit the sack. I patted myself for going through 2 days with a 5 year old with no screen time and no whine! Hence as obvious, I settled to binge on Netflix with some chips and cold coffee to reward myself.

Humble dinner- my veges only and D's veges-with-egg-cheese-lentil

Monday morning after breakfast we were both invited to daughter's best friend's place, she for playdate, me for catch-up and lunch with the mommy! The morning drifted away in laughter and over delicious grub and when I got home in the evening, husband had just come back from his desert expedition full of clothes to launder and adventurous stories ;)

...........................

As I contemplated later in the night, I realized that the long weekend was a breeze even with H away. There was a time I'd sulk every time he'd go on a trip by himself (even if it was for official work) and the days would stretch endlessly until few years back a switch in my mind flipped. I realized that I did not need to be so dependent on him to fill all my time. I should have interests of my own and alone time too can be fun. By then I also had a lovely little baby who was growing up faster than I liked. I realized that spending quality time with daughter on my own could be transformed to magical memories with both planning or spontaneity, so, while I love time we 3 spend as a family, him being away at times does not need to be dreadful. I would feel myself accomplished if, when my daughter grows up she thinks of her mom as independent, loving and fun. There are few things as rewarding as a mom-daughter relationship, hence it should be exploited for all the benefits to both ;)

When H is away, to make these occasions count, it's absolutely mandatory to be independent. Having a car to self, knowing how to drive, having my own friends and interests and chores I can run and hobbies I fancy has been crucial. This is not arrogance nor is this selfish, it has just been a great way for me to live while I let him live. And while at it, we truly thrive.

These are times to catch up on some fun girl bonding actions- fashion, art, craft, shopping. These are times to fulfill cravings with food H does not necessarily enjoy and to renew the excitement in the marriage with space and trust!

Building my network and investing time, effort and thought into it has been such a blessing. I am lucky to have a group of close friends I can lean on. They did not magically appear in my life. I try to offer up babysitting time or other help to folks close to me so when I need, they reciprocate gladly. The benefit to this is, in case I feel overwhelmed or underwhelmed parenting on my own, I can quickly reach out and get support. That knowledge of the dependency net itself contributes to deep psychological safety and keeps my spirits up.

When husband came back today, I was terribly happy to be reunited but also equally happy to share mine as he shared his! We drifted into the busy work week ahead, me feeling strong and independent and rested while he felt energized and quenched from living his dream and thankful for my cooperation...