Masala Sunset

Bali Dreams

2011-12-18T12:43:00.002+08:00

Bali called me again...

I can't seem to get enough of this place...it fills my soul, stimulates my spirit to fly...

I spent a glorious month of eating only raw/living foods.

This gift I gave my body, mind and soul...will forever change the way I see food. We truly are what we take into ourselves (both emotionally and physically).

During this glorious raw food ~~diet~~ "livet", I was blessed to be able to embark on a personal transformative journey with Radiantly Alive's Vibrant Living Yoga Teacher Training Intensive.

To refer to it as a teacher training, seems incredibly insufficient. I feel grateful beyond expression and will forever cherish the spiritual expansion and delicious relationships I made during this special time.

I feel blessed and inspired to share this gift of yoga with others now. As I explore my role as a teacher, I see so clearly how I am really an accumulation of all my teachers in life, plus the light that shines within me.

"All is within." Simple powerful words from my beloved teacher, Sri Dharma Mittra.

Breakfast

2011-06-28T15:11:00.003+08:00

Yet another deserted beach in OZ

2010-11-28T12:19:00.000+08:00

Bubble Bubble

2010-10-16T23:29:00.002+08:00

Our visit to New Zealand's North Island reminded me of the power and grandeur of this earth. I can only imagine how I'll feel about the south island (next trip) after hearing dramatic descriptions of beauty that boggle the mind. Completely enamored by the north island in all it's stunningness, I feel my equilibrium that's been off kilter from city living, is back in balance.

Even amidst the incredible amount of peace you feel in this land, you can sense much bubbling activity underfoot.

As many as 48 volcanoes (I believe most are dead or dormant anyway) dot Auckland alone. Some rise quite tall and seem more like pointed "hills". From this vantage point, these volcanoes offered us magnificent 360 views on just the turn of a heel.

The locals wait for the inevitable "next eruption" which could be "anytime", they say with a nonchalant yet only slightly worried smile as if looking at the sky contemplating the time of the next rainfall.

Our good kiwi friends took us on a "tiki tour" of Auckland's highlights that would make anyone want to pack all their belongs and move to this enchanted country at once! Thanks a lot for confusing us even more than we already are, Mark. New Zealand should appoint you their prime minister of PR.

One of my favorite beaches in the city that he took us to was this little cove called Thorne's Bay. The black volcanic pumice rocks against the contrast on the blue sea and yet another volcano in the background was striking.

We enjoyed a bit of a road trip. I just couldn't get enough of the tranquility and the natural scenery which we virtually had to ourselves.

Oh yes, the reputation stands.

We walked barefoot in the super soft black sand of this awe inspiring beach where the sea crashed into the rocks, carving out deep caves. My curious legs wanted the water to take me into deep mysterious caves where the water flowed on some unknown path.

I'm sorry but I will not share the name of this place, mind you. It's a secret.

I'll leave you with an active marvel. Well, I marvelled anyway. The boiling stinking mud pool at Waitapu in Rotorua, New Zealand was beyond wild.
It's best with the volume up.

The Wizard of OZ

2010-09-28T06:47:00.006+08:00

Visting Australia right now. Can a country be any cooler?! (well, besides my beloved India, of course).

Two years of nomadic wandering and we're still searching for a place to call home. After being seduced by Sydney's climate and beauty and then blown away by the culture in Melbourne, I catch myself asking, "Australia...will you be my home?" about 100 times per day.

Thought my Indian readers would appreciate this large scale billboard on the side of a building in Federation Square (Melbourne).

Next stop...New Zealand. My curiosity abounds as I consider what we might see and what we might feel there.

Espionage

2010-06-25T13:28:00.002+08:00

I've been meaning to post some photos during my espionage days (aka: lounging on the balcony at the ayurveda hospital we stayed at earlier this year in southern India with nothing better to do than take photos of people).

The hospital houses a lovely temple consecrated to Lord Dhanwanthari (the god of medicine) which I've talked about in previous posts. It's presence definitely made a mark on my stay there. From dawn to dusk it bustled with energy...always something going on inside. Each day many interesting people from the village walk through the hospital grounds to attend the temple rituals. I enjoyed capturing moments from some of these devotees. Like this one...

"Son, just look over here into my fancy shmansy phone."

"Hmm, I wonder if those pink chappals at Lakshmi Design's are still on sale?"

"Goodness, we're quite late. I hope they still have some floor cushions left."

And...

"Honey, did you get a chance to call that super fab tailor that the Patel's use?"

"Yes, yes I'll do it...don't worry, yar. You've asked me 3 times today."

"I know, but I just want to make sure we get our outfits ready for the

Singh wedding."

"We must look absolutely fantastic!"

"I do hear that Raj is the best in the business."

"Yes, now dearest, please don't forget to tell him to do the embroidery up to here."

Flicker

2010-04-22T11:07:00.003+08:00

A faint flicker of light dances through the darkness from the direction of the hospital's temple catching my attention this morning. My curiosity takes me there. It's before dawn and I see little stirring within the temple walls. I see the source of the light that brought me here. A large metal bowl of oil with a long lighted wick. A sign tells me the flame always lives as the bowl is continually replenished.

Near the back, there are curtain-drawn rooms for the priests. I see a young priest (the same one who visits our cottage every day with an offering of flowers on a banana leaf) emerge from a room, yawn and stretch. Our eyes meet and we share a namaste. I continue my walk through the temple--my bare feet loving the cool stone floor. Watching with complete reverence, my curious heart observes an older chubby priest as he chants poojas in monotone for healing. Simply clothed in a white linen loin wrap and orange shawl, he sits cross-legged on the ground, and his body sways as he feeds the fire. An older couple sits and prays with him. A lone man also prays with them and struggles with the smoke coming from the fire, coughing and blinking his eyes. More people gradually join the group and then the kirtan begins.

All these people, coming with hope for healing whether it be for themselves and/or their loved ones. So much heart and faith. I say a prayer for healing for them, myself and Mahesh. On my way out, I pass the light that drew me here today and gave thanks for the lessons learned. May we also always have oil in our lamps.

Play

2010-04-19T22:22:00.000+08:00

Many women here in the south of India tie garlands of fresh fragrant jasmine flowers in their braided hair. This is me trying to fit in. =)

Glimmer

2010-04-14T09:41:00.001+08:00

Nearly every day, I watch the action in the hospital grounds from my little perch. Though I meet only a few of my fellow patients here, I feel I know all of them as I see them evolve through their gaits. I see them get weaker and then stronger as the treatment progresses. I get concerned when they disappear or stray from their routines and relieved when they return.

I often see a certain distinguished man, perhaps around 60, strolling through the gardens, hand in hand with his adult son who is clearly developmentally delayed. Though the father appears tired while he carries a concerned disposition and hunched shoulders, I feel he radiates a patient heart.

Today, he pauses to speak with Dr. K who just so happened to be rushing by on his rounds. His son (I'm guessing around age 35) wiggles away from his father's hand, points at the doctor and starts jumping up and down full of glee. Perhaps all of Dr. K's patients get similarly excited to see him, but thanks to, or unfortunately for, (depending on how you want to look at it) our frontal lobes, we suppress such emotions from displaying themselves for fear of social embarrassment.

Though I never meet this family, I imagine a story of their life. Perhaps, they have gone to all the allopathic doctors who say "we're doing all we can do to help your son". But this does not satisfy the father. He craves answers and a better way. Perhaps, they learn about Ayurveda and the doctors here. I imagine how the father brightens with hope, but then the hope is dashed as he considers the time commitment of the treatment here and must go on leave from his job. "It doesn't matter...you can't put a price on health" he would say after much deliberation. The sacrifices he must have made during his life overwhelm me. But at the same time, I also consider the beautiful lessons learned and the grace I imagine he feels. They arrive here full of hope, an essential part of any healing process.

Even if throughout the day, events cause hope's light to dim and fade, it rejuvenates anew at dawn. It's as if our soul has travelled to some wonderful healing place while our bodies slept, bathed in the ocean of hope, and then returned to our bodies as we awake, armed and ready for a new day. Call it temporary amnesia or absolute wisdom, hope shines, even if for a moment before our mischievous-at-times intellect reminds us of something difficult and our light extinguishes itself. I consider the difficult but not impossible task of calming such negative thoughts which smother even the slightest glimmer of hope in our souls.

So many stories here. So much hope. I'm grateful to all the patients here. Though I haven't met each one, their presence alone reminds me of the healing power of hope.

I wonder what you, dear reader, hope for.

Mornings

2010-03-15T18:36:00.002+08:00

Quiet morning.

I race to our veranda (armed with mosquito coils and long sleeves) to cherish the first most special moments of the day. Love this routine. It’s still dark and the wind…calm. A few birds begin to awake and then go back to sleep. I meditate on love and the gift I give my body by being here. Happy birthday, self.

The wind picks up speed…about the same time each morning, bringing with it that fresh mountain air that I just can‘t get enough of. More please! The breeze carries a slow lone chant from the temple. I join in with my own hushed OM. The faint scent of jasmine comes and goes. I beg for it’s fragrant return. A goat’s cry in the near distance moves me - something so sad about it - such a gentle creature. If only humans could recognize the strength, wisdom and freedom in being as gentle. Lokah Samasta Sukino Bhavantu.

One of the first movements before each dawn (besides medicine-delivery man) is a graceful woman with her long braid (nearly all the women here have long braids) in her green sari uniform carrying a cardboard box full of brightly colored chalk powder. I watch her go from cottage to cottage dropping, instead of drawing, beautiful designs with the powder on each stoop and doorway of the compound.

The sky begins to turn gray and then blooms into pink. I take in the natural rhythm of the day. The birds, now fully awake, flutter about full of fresh energy, circling the compound. Their nearly deafening chatter begins to bring life, consciousness and movement to the day. Patients stumble out of their cottages to breathe in the morning with a stroll through the gardens. I wonder what this day will bring. I wonder what these eyes will see and what this body will feel today.

Jelly

2010-03-12T14:20:00.016+08:00

The pharmacy of this hospital is the gardens themselves.

Most unusual is this beautiful dominating tree bearing these bright green pods, which are larger than plantains.

Sanskrit name: Moca, Salami
Tamil name: Illavu
English name: Red Silk Cotton Tree
Important uses: healing blood impurities and wounds

My body is feeling like jelly this week as I am going through the "intensive treatment" segment of my stay here. I feel high on endorphins from the Dhara and Pizichil treatment.

The Dhara is a procedure where cool medicated oil from a pot above the head is poured in a steady lullaby-like stream onto the forehead for an hour by 2 therapists. The oil absorbing into my head and the gentle rocking motion activate the nervous system. The doctors say the results are permanent in conjunction with all the other lifestyle changes we make here daily.

Simultaneously, the Pizichil treatment involves 4 therapists squeezing warm medicated oil from cotton cloths onto the entire body from a certain height and then rubbing it off. This is done with 3 liters (yes) of medicinal oil that has been formulated for my ailments. I'm basically swimming in the oil. The oil is continually warmed, squeezed and rubbed in for one hour. It's not really a massage - it's more of an oil application. The nature of the oil is to penetrate through the skin and through all the bodily tissues and eventually into the bones and blood. The effect detoxifies and thus temporarily weakens the immune system so the impurities can come out.

Yes, do the math - that means 6 women are working on me in my little loin cloth at the same time - a bit awkward at first, but then I just surrender to it all.

After my treatments, I feel euphoric as prana flows, unblocked, through my body. Very powerful. After my first day of the treatment, I sat on the veranda and stared at a tree for about an hour completely relaxed. Present yet wonderfully "zoned-out".

During this intensive treatment (7-10 days for us), we are restricted to our cottage and veranda as our bodies become very weak and we could catch illnesses very easily. This uhhh...."quarantine" is fine by me because I've morphed into an incredibly tired zombie in a blissful trance. So tired, weak and relaxed. Stairs are difficult, even for someone as active as me who's used to jogging and doing yoga daily. The weakness is temporary during this part of our treatment. I'm drinking in all these changes in my body and the toxins freely come out. Let's hope the stay out. Besides, at least hubby's enjoying the entertainment of watching me in my stupor-like state stumbling around the cottage and running into walls.

Ayurveda: Part Two

2010-03-08T18:30:00.001+08:00

......................................A scene from the gardens near the hospital temple: the sacred cow.

So as a continuation of my last post, here's the latter half of a typical day here at the Ayurvedic clinic we're staying at for the next month.

12:30pm: Lunch was chapatti thali meal (as I said earlier meals are vegetarian). One bowl was very bitter (a black spiky gourd in a balancing sour buttermilk sauce), and I so enjoyed it. Being American and having grown up with a very Western palate, I was not used to certain rasas (tastes)...that is, until I met Mahesh and was exposed to a whole new world (on many levels). Some may feel the food served here at the hospital is bland, but I feel it’s good and pure (emphasizing the Ayurvedic balance of tastes) and though simple, it has enough flavour in my opinion.

3:00pm: Another kashayam (bitter liquid herbal medicine). Cheers!

My first Abhyagam treatment: We have our own private treatment room in the back room of our cottage. Imagine a super hard wooden table that is slightly curved down the center. There's a rope hanging from the ceiling, which will be used next week during intensive treatment to hang a pot of oil for the Dhara. A variety of very "experienced" pots and pans and stools of different sizes are strewn about.

So there I was...in my little loin cloth and my lady therapist in her simple blue sari uniform. I began by sitting on the edge of the table. She started by saying a humble pooja and blessing the prescribed and personalized oil. Then she applied it to me my head and hair. I then laid on my back. She applied LOTS of oil and rubbed it in and all over. This treatment is more of an oil application and not a massage. Soaked with the medicated oil, my body was sliding all over the place. Oil was warmed up quite a bit and sticky and a bit smelly (but not in a bad way, just very natural), and was bright red! So much oil.

It was nice once I just surrendered to the fact that I was just going to be very oily and slippery for the next hour. I tell my body to absorb the oil and imagine it penetrating through the skin, tissues, muscles, organs and even my bones and circulating through my blood to every corner of my internal body...cleansing and purifying and stimulating prana.

After about 45 minutes of application and rubbing the oil on me, my therapist gave me a bath in the bathroom adjoining our treatment room, which basically consisted of her using a pitcher and pouring warm water all over me while I stood and sat. Then she used gram powder (which is basically ground moong dal) to remove the oils. My skin felt soft and smooth after. I was relaxed and felt rejuvenated by this very new experience.

5:30pm: Dr. K visited. Feel pulse - check. Inspect tongue - check. Examine the fingernails - check. Observe the eyeballs - check. It may seem simple, but a very experienced doctor (in most traditional and holistic branches of medicine) is able to tell volumes by this simple examination.

6:00pm: Kashayams again. Bottoms up. Aaaaack!

6:30pm: Soup man arrives.

6:40pm: Mosquito Man with smoking coals came and smoked our cottage. Bless him!

There's such a beautiful rhythm around here and we're loving the routine.

6:45pm: Took a walk through the street of the small village streets. A couple of women with their pails stood near the communal water pump. Each block or so has one or two pumps. A tiny little toddler in a black and red dress watches us with her big eye-linered eyes and flashes us the biggest smile. A child's smile always moves me to no end. She gets so excited that she falls down and looks towards the women sitting on the curb nearby and then begins to cry. Her gold anklets and bracelets sing as she ran to mommy's open arms.

This place is very raw, wild and authentic...well off the tourist path. The people seem gentle and genuinely spiritual. The dress is traditional and extremely modest. Coverage right down to the ankles has been difficult for a Pitta like me, but I compensate by drinking fresh coconut water daily. Nearly everyone is Hindu and a vegetarian.

7:30pm: Dinner was dosa (like a big, non-sweet rice pancake), served with sambar and chutneys for dipping.

8:00pm: Our bedtime medicines arrives. Mine was a lehyam (a dark black paste). The texture was like rich fudge brownie batter, but oh, the taste was far from chocolate and was a bit difficult to swallow, but it's growing on me day by day. It's redeeming qualities are the flavours of cinnamon and cloves.

11:00pm: Dr. R. visited. We waited all day for him. He is the famed medical director of this hospital and quite a remarkable man with a distinguished and holy presence to put it mildly. He arrived with an entourage of about 5 disciples who respectfully stood, hurriedly took notes and handed Dr. R his blackberry, files or answered his questions. His spirit was tangible, and his energy felt beautiful and positive. Mahesh and I both felt comforted and cared for in almost a fatherly way. He would often close his eyes and tilt his head back as if to go to deep inside himself or another plane or dimension for answers while feeling our pulse. He asked deeply intuitive questions as if he were clairvoyant. His wisdom moved us.

We peacefully drifted off to sleep internalizing the intense, yet very spiritual and uplifting experience.

Ayurveda: Part One

2010-03-04T18:14:00.001+08:00

A typical day at our Ayurvedic clinic...Week 1

The days start early apparently around here. The door bell (which is startling and sounds like an obese hungry gecko) starts at 6am and doesn’t really let up. Very active mornings. We tried to ignore it the first few times from our bed thinking they could come back later. But then I remind myself we're at a hospital, not a resort (even though it feels like a holiday), and many visits is just par for the course and the whole reason we're here anyway. Besides, it’s getting light outside and it's the only time of the day that is below 30 degrees ( abt 88F) and I want to soak up the cool morning.

6:00am: Our medicines arrive from the pharmacy. We both drink the dark bitter liquid concoctions and then see who can make a funnier grimaced face.

It's barely dawn. I sit on the veranda and do my meditation to the symphony of the birds and the chatter of the occasional donkey.

6:15am: Our medicated water for the day arrives. Tastes like water with the slightest bit of a kick of something. Another boy brings our tea. Another brings the paper.

7:00am: I try to squeeze in a walk. For our first 7 days, the doctors prescribe Abhyagam (preparatory treatment of simple oil application rubbed all over the body for 45 blissful minutes). During this week, we can take walks in the garden and go to the temple. Once our main intensive treatment starts(will describe that in the weeks to come), we will be restricted to our cottage and veranda. Forced rest, relaxation and healing - sounds pretty good to me.

7:45am: Our medicinal oils arrive: plastic bottles filled with mystery liquid...some smell funny but not bad. Some smell pleasant and coconuty. All are dark in color. I can't wait for my treatment later this afternoon. Am so curious.

Blood pressure ladies stop by to do the needful.

8:00am: Our breakfast arrives at our cottage. Today I chose Pongal (a soft rice dish with veggies served with the usual chutneys).

8:30am: Priest comes by to bless our cottage and leaves us an offering: flowers and sandalwood paste on a portion of a banana leaf. He is slightly chubby, jolly and shirtless wearing a white skirt with bright orange trim and shawl. His forehead is decorated with colored paste in a special religious design.

9:00am: Doctor T arrives to discuss our ailments and go over our treatment plans. She is calm and exudes a wonderful energy. We feel taken care of. The goal: heal our ailments by balancing our dosha's through diet, external oil treatments and internal medications. Ayurveda is holistic as it views man in his totality (physical, emotional, mental, cellular, spiritual, genetic, etc) within a wide ecological spectrum and emphasizes the view that ill health or disease is brought about by an imbalance or disequilibria of man in his total ecological system.

10:00am: Nutritionist visits us. We are on a restricted vegetarian diet during our time here. The food is strictly Ayurvedic in preparation and selections, and it is simple Indian food with very little spices: usually a bland thali meal with chapatti or kichadi or it's idly or dosa with chutneys. I have enjoyed the clean and basic food so far. (It's only been one week though. Not sure if I'll feel the same 2 weeks from now.) It's nutritious and my entire body thanks me. Food is very much part of the treatment here. The clinic’s farm, herbs and veggies come from Kerala, the neighboring state of Tamil Nadu. All are naturally grown without chemicals.

Man with large metal kettle stops by. Palak Soup. Yum.

11:30am: Homemade buttermilk with turmeric and cumin is delivered. It was, well…interesting - not terrible and I can see myself tolerating it and maybe even liking it. You can definitely taste the turmeric which is not necessarily a bad thing at all. Came with roasted papadums. One of Mahesh's favorite snacks. Gobble gobble.

Whew...it's not even noon and it's been a full day already. I am loving every minute of it.

A Healing Place

2010-03-01T18:35:00.001+08:00

The bird sounds wake me even though I only got a few hours of sleep because we arrived quite late last night. As we're both in need to detoxification, we decided to spend 5 weeks (or longer perhaps) at an authentic Ayurvedic hospital here in Tamil Nadu in the south of India where the mother of medicine all began.

The manually hand-pulled bell from our compound tells me it’s 7am. Motorbike and tuk-tuk horns grow in number as the morning ages. As I lay in bed, I am curious as the action in the village picks up. Our hospital is in a secured gated area but since our cottage is on an upper floor you can see all the bustle going on.

I go to the window in the kitchen while hubby sleeps on. We have large bright pink and orange colored bouganvilla trees outside our window. And underneath them, some rubbish and a couple of old empty coconuts. Across the street just outside a very simple home (probably without electricity or running water) is a man in a skirt (I’ve noticed that’s common here and actually looks quite comfortable) standing reading his newspaper. Nearby him, a young boy (maybe around 9) brushes his teeth while intently watching the action on the little road. Women in sarees and grocery bags walk by. I notice a store “Krishna’s Demolition Services”. A dog saunters by determinedly. I see an old white-haired woman in a bright pink saree walk by. She was wearing shoes that must be 3 sizes too big for her. Holding her hand was a young girl in a light green pajama kurta with a pink shawl. The child was skipping at every third step or so. The sound of a very cheap version of a popular bollywood song echoes through the air followed by a “halo?”. Then I hear religious music…probably coming from the temple. Our hospital has a lovely temple here on the campus deditated to Lord Dhanwanthari, the God of Ayurveda and healing.

I step outside onto our verandana. My body gladly soaks up the brisk coolness of the morning air. A woman in a simple green saree uniform sweeps the lovely tree-lined path of the hospital's grounds. I see sleepy patients gradually emerging from their bungalows and head towards the canteen for some breakfast or towards the temple for a healing pooja. A frail woman in a gold saree carries on her hip a large flat basket filled with white cloth or towels. A man near her balances metal jugs at the end of each hand.

The smell of insense envelopes the compound. I am curious as to my life here for the next month. What will happen here? Who will I meet? What will I learn? How will I feel? How will Mahesh feel? How will our bodies change?

My mind is open.
My body is open.
My heart is open.

Snow Globe

2010-02-09T17:47:00.001+08:00

I stepped into a beautiful snow globe this past Christmas.

Being in Vermont with my family was...oh what's the word?...well...perfect!

The cold brisk mountain air was a welcomed relief from spending the past year in the never-ending heat of South East Asia. Besides, Christmas just isn't the same without a real winter. And sledding!!

Amongst many things, the "green mountain state" is special for...

...covered bridges,

...maple syrup,

....and my sister Gina, her husband and their 3 adorable children.

My sister and her family live in a cute gingerbread house with a wood stove.

And for the holidays, amongst other traditional family baking projects, we made gingerbread sleighs and people with the children. And of course, someone couldn't stop eating all the frosting. Ahem, Luke!

And Lana "serenaded" us all with holiday songs.

Vermont's rural countrysides ensure no shortage of wildlife. The day before Christmas, a family of wild turkeys strolled by with their chins held high, feeling proud that they made it through Thanksgiving.

And just one day prior to that, a gorgeous owl spent about half an hour on a tree in the yard. Apparently he wanted to sip some hot cocoa with us after our daily sledding adventures.

While in my snow globe, I even witnessed Santa's workshop on Christmas Eve! The elves were so busy moving around that I couldn't get a clear shot.

T'was the view on Christmas morning.

Another view of Christmas morning.
On Christmas day, Santa's reindeer paid us a little visit.

And the children played in the snow. Okay, I played too and I absolutely LOVED rolling in the fluffy whiteness.

With snow sticking to my eyebrows and chin, I fell to the ground accepting defeat from a snowball fight with the kids, and I gazed up at the quiet sky. Snowflakes gently floating down. I soaked in winter, savoring the sensation of cold on my back while laying on the soft white powder. As the kids and I made our snow angels, I thought how blessed I am to be in the very midst of real angels, these precious children.

See how Lana makes a beautiful angel.

My winter wonderland fantasy comes to an end...to be continued...next year.

Good Morning Hong Kong

2010-01-12T10:24:00.003+08:00

Rice

2009-12-31T09:48:00.004+08:00

The Balinese people are deeply spiritual and devoted to their Hindu faith.

We spent nearly a month with them this year and we found that they truly "live" their religion. Getting into the rhythm of local life, we enjoyed watching the villagers prepare for and walk to the frequent temple ceremonies.

We took in the rice fields in Ceking. You just want to spread your wings and fly over them and then gentle melt and merge with these paddies becoming one with their lush smoothness (nevermind getting muddy and attacked by mosquitos)

Our peaceful little bungalow in Ubud was a sanctuary. The Balinese value their gardens as much if not more than their homes.

Mountain biking through volcanos and local villages in northern part of the island offers much peace and perspective.

Oh growing mountain village Ubud...

.....where tourism has unfortunately overdominated this once quiet village (though the villagers who depend on tourism don't mind of course). Gratefully, you can still find a few old rustic roads and paths where the likes of Dolce and Gabana don't own real estate.

.....where single western women in their 30's flock by the thousands in the quest for love (after they've eaten and prayed) in this almost fairytale isle. 'Tis easy to find magic anywhere on this earth, I've learned, if your heart is open and your ears perked for those faint but clear whispers we often ignore because of fear.

.....where nature's grand symphony is reborn come evening, especially during full moon. When the monkeys calm down and settled into their trees for the night, a whole new world and dimension awakes and takes over this mountain village. And they say that Ubud doesn't have great nightlife...fiddlesticks! The distant chants from a full-moon temple ceremony in harmony with the chatty geckos, singing crickets, syncronozing bass-noted frogs, and very active swooshing bats and who knows what else out there lurking about. (I'm nearly positive snakes are around somewhere, but let's not think about them.) After closing the day by relaxing on the veranda, we lay on our bamboo bed safely tucked in under the mosquito net (oh blessed invention) and savor each chirp and croak.

If you ever doubted the earth has a vibrating living and breathing soul or need reminding, you'll find it Bali.

Bali Daydreaming

2009-11-24T12:47:00.005+08:00

More to come...

GrAffiTi

2009-09-25T10:25:00.000+08:00

Graffiti...a rare sight here in squeaky clean Singapore. These two little simple shapes blend in with their surroundings - even the lawbreakers are neat and orderly.

Hurry, hurry take a photo. No doubt it will be scrubbed away in about 5 minutes by the graffiti police. Gotta love Singapore.

Barso re

2009-09-07T17:07:00.001+08:00

Thanks to Madhu Gopalan from madhugopalan.blogspot.com for reminding me of wonderous rain. Here one my favorite rain songs.

The Other Sin City

2009-09-05T21:42:00.000+08:00

Macau (a Special Administrative Region of China, like Hong Kong) is perhaps often known as a tackier version of Vegas (as if that is even possible)...and I'll be the first to tell you how true parts of the city live up to that reputation, and I won't spend much time talking about it in this post. However, great architectural treasures and a rich European heritage often blended with Chinese culture await you if you venture off the well beaten track of the Cotai strip.

We board a ferry from Hong Kong's Shun Tak Centre in Sheung Wan (one of my favorite neighborhoods in HK by the way) and travel just 35 miles to the island of Macau. Casino vans eagerly await our arrival and all deeply wish for us to spend a night or two (and our money) at their hotel and casino, dangling tempting offers and promotions in front of us. The struggling global economy has hurt the casino industry showing that perhaps the house doesn't always win.

We had already booked a room at Stanley Ho's classic Hotel Lisboa (one of the first casinos in Macau). Completely decked out with floor-to-ceiling sparkle and gaudiness, (think Donald Trump's living room x10), Lisboa was actually quite stunning with all it's 70's-style mosaics and grand antique Chinese dragons.

We had some fun at the casino but wanted to see a softer, more classier taste of Macau which has been rumored by a few and were pleasantly surprised by what we found. We lug our weary traveling legs, exhausted-from-nearly-a-year-of-nomadic-living, and escape the strip, wandering far away through a maze of some of the most charming local streets.

We admire beautifully maintained colonial baroque architecture and lanes that were remarkable uncrowded.

.............................................(I wish I could take credit but Otto de Voogd shot this one)

The small old village squares and cozy incensed Buddhist temples on the side streets were a breath of fresh air from the noise of the casinos. We enjoy a quick nibble of meat and other weird things on sticks from one of the many little stalls which seem about as common on every street corner here as Starbucks in Seattle.

As the sun sets over the facade of St. Paul's Cathedral (built in the 1500s, the rest of it burned down in the mid-1830's due to a major typhoon), we make our way over to the authentic Restaurante Litoral, one of the many Portugese restaurants here in Macau. We feast on mouthwatering Portugese sausages and African Chicken. We decide to walk off some of the food we just inhaled and ended up getting a bit lost in the maze of low-rise buildings of the local village streets. We pucker our faces on some "wah mui's" (yummy sour dried plum) from a little old lady from a little old shop.

It's a balmy evening. Mists roll off the water and snake their way through the rotting-fish-scented dark streets...not necessarily some of the safest streets mind you; I half-expected some bearded Kung Fu ninja masters with manga super powers to jump out from the damp drippy shadows armed with Nunchaku (or numchucks).

Imagine this but a whole lot darker.

I discretely shove my wedding ring deep into my pocket...just in case. We enjoy a bit of a thrill getting slightly lost in the claustrophobic valley of dirty grey-hued buildings. As our pace quickens, our footsteps echo in sync with various sounds coming from daily life in the thousands of apartments above us...post-supper's clanging pots, muffled television and sporadic choirs of Mandarin chatter spiced up with the occasional laugh.

We eventually stumble upon a road of mansions and private villas, some in traditional Portuguese style and others in Chinese style as well as a giant Taoist temple complex situated serenely on the coast. We pause to observe the romantically shifting moonlight reflecting off the sea and then drawing mystical shadows around us. From a distance we watch the gentle mists arrive off the waves and envelope a lone priest and follow him as he roams the ornate temple grounds. Hints of burning incense come our way. I take it all in.

.......................................................................................................photo from here

After several hours of all this walking we reflect how nice twas to get lost in the jungle of Macau, but it's very late now we're ready to go back - my back hurts and Mahesh's knee hurts. We've somehow wandered to this very remote area and it's taking so long to get a "Taxi?!"

Somewhere in Thailand

2009-07-17T15:00:00.000+08:00

Gazing up at the sky...

...and then down at the footprints of a hundred other wanderers in the sand.

We look all around us and inhale our surroundings becoming one and apart of this nature.

I admire our simple bungalow containing only the bare necessities...all we really need besides each other...

...and reflect on my life while gazing at the expansive sea.

Oh meditative sea.

I contemplate on how simple life can be

and how quick we are to complicate it.

While our feet struggle through the uneven sand,

they eventually find their way and we stroll hand in hand.

We go East.

And then we go West.

We're not aimless;

we're walking to find the ground.

We're trying to get out of our own way.

The person who so often distracts us from

life's true meaning and purpose is our dear selves

without even knowing it.

Pausing for a nap...our hearts slow.

So quiet and rustic here,

I feel like we're "Lost" characters.

But we're not searching for a way off this little island.

We searching for for a way on it...to stay...forever!

We happen upon some civilization!

Hello? Is anyone around?

...apparently sometimes, but not today...

...perhaps they went fishing.

Hmmmm! What's for dinner? More importantly, what's for dessert? Could it be a flaky Thai pancake smothered in sweetened condensed milk and sugar that just melts in your mouth?! Getting too excited for words. I think today calls for a visit to Mr. Pancake Man in the village.

This side trip (a much needed rest from the woes of two rootless nomads sleeping on countless pillows) has offered us time:

to reflect

to be quiet

and to listen

and to eat pancakes.

Bon Voyage to you, dear reader, in your big and small travels in life, be it far or near. Keep your ears open!

Busy

2009-06-27T10:17:00.001+08:00

Have been a bit busy as of late...

My Everything Book

2009-04-08T11:54:00.001+08:00

This little treasure of mine has been with me through it all this past year of moving madness.

I use it for...well, everything. One can find all sorts of things inside.

-My rantings and ravings about life
-Lessons (which have been many) I've learned during these trying nomadic times of ours
-Written notes on restaurant napkins
-Shopping lists
-To do lists

-Quotes that move me

-Notes from a Gestalt Psychotherapy retreat last June

-Notes from Yoga teachers lessons that inspire me

-Pros and Cons list between living in Singapore and Hong Kong (because we really can't decide)
-Inspirations and ideas

-Designs for my future India Room

-Dreams and my interpretations of them

My Everything Book also doubles as a filing cabinet for eye-catching clippings from magazines. Here are a couple.

I adore this picture of Marilyn Monroe leaning over a balcony in New York - looks like my old apartment's roof top. I've had this photo for many years (from Vanity Fair) and always hope to have a photo shoot like this one. I also melt when I see the new Tiffany ad of this adorable baby and mother (and the ring ain't so bad either - hint hint, husband)

A special thing surprised me as I was flipping through the pages of my book the other day which prompted me to write this post now. A perfectly preserved flower fell out from between the pages. I forgot that I saved this little souvenir! I collected it from the city palace (where the Maharana still lives, by the way) in the magical kingdom of Udaipur. It still retained it's color from the day I picked it off the ground and placed in my special book.

My Everything Book has been helpful in organizing my very chaotic life. I picked up this most special book from an art shop in Udaipur from a nice local family. Durgesh, the owner, and his beautiful wife were most generous and warm, even inviting us to their home for tea, which was above his shop. His wife hand makes these sweet books from camel leather and showed me the metal tools used to punch in the patterns. I also bought a similar book from her with an elephant sketch on it and another one with an OM design. I am most fond of this one with the camel sketch. There is something so regal about camels - especially in the way they walk with their heads held high.

My poor book endures much abuse yet holds up quite well even though it grows thicker by the day, (like George Costanza's wallet - if you saw that episode). I had better get a new one soon as I begin to close this chapter of my life.

Tagged: 6 Senses

2009-03-28T06:00:00.000+08:00

Chandan from Girl About Home tagged me well over a month ago. I'm a bit delayed in my response because I have turned my life upside-down lately and it's not because I often balance in Shirshasana. Our life on the road has been fun, yet unsettling and things have been just a bit crazy and unstructured being without a home, utensils to make Masala Chai, and a steady Internet connection.

Ok, no more excuses. Let's get to it.

So the object of this tagging system (I'm a little new to it, bare with me) is that I have to come up with 6 things about myself. Sounds easy enough, right? Harder than what you may think when you actually have to narrow it down to just 6. One can begin to think too much. I decided it would be best to come up with some sort of a theme or category to organize my 6.

During this transitional time in my life, many important lessons have taught me more than I could have ever imagined about life and myself. But above all, these traveling experiences have reminded me of the strength of detachment and how I don't live in the present as much as I would like to. What reminds us to live in the present? Our senses. Remember "stop and smell the roses?" So I'm choosing to share 6 of my senses with you.

Reacting organically, our senses are what makes us alive. We are rarely consciously aware of how our senses work for us in every second. As a student of Gestalt psychotherapy, I have learned volumes of this simple yet monumentally life changing philosophy. When I make myself aware of my senses in the second that they occur, I live in the present moment - no longer thinking of the past or worrying about the future, but rather enjoying the very second of each breath or other experienced sense - it's very liberating. When I'm aware of my senses in full force, my soul smiles and wonders with appreciation for life.

6 Senses that remind me to be present:

1. Scent: A cozy burning fireplace either distant or near on a cold day calms like no other. The earthy aroma excites my nose with nostalgia as scents often do, with warm memories of bundling up and strolling arm in arm with my husband through Greenwich Village (our beloved former home) on a cold wintry Sunday, when all our neighbors who are lucky enough to have a fireplace enjoy their embers as much as we do as the scent wafts through the brisk New York air.

2. Touch: Receiving a champissage. A 4000 year old Indian head massage technique with lots and lots of medicinal and aromatic oils-it is truly an Ayurvedic art. It really doesn't get much better than this! Most memorable was my champi at the wonderfully understated Taj Lake Palace in Udaipur where ambiance is everything. Hmm, my heightened senses are overlapping each other. I felt completely awake and alive. It was heaven. Dancing and my yoga practice bring a similar feeling.

3. Sight: Where do I begin? It's hard to pick one, so I'll pick two. First, I love to see long drapes dancing whimsically in the wind of an opened window. There is something comforting, utterly elegant, meditative and romantic about the sight of something inanimate (specifically drapes) being offered breath and life by the wind. This keeps me present.

...................................................................................................pic from here.

Second, the live vision of Taj Mahal. This majestic wonder of the world took my breath away when I saw it for the first time a year ago. Even the best picture in the world can never do justice to this masterpiece. For anyone who has seen it, you know exactly what I'm talking about. There is something magical, deeply spiritual and supernatural about being in it's presence, bringing tears to your eyes. I am aware that goosebumps cover my arms and back just thinking about it now. It goes way beyond sight and touches a thousand other senses you never knew you had. Go. You'll see and feel.

4. Sound: The dainty knocking of ballet pointe shoes puttering across the stage moves me to no end. In another life, I must have been a ballet dancer. I just pretend now which is equally fun!

......................................................................................................pic from here.

As I write this post, I realize that nearly all of my senses overlap and rely on each other to awaken other senses. This exercise has reminded me of the wonders of being alive.

5. Taste: Masala Chai, of course! Oh how my taste buds have missed me having my own kitchen to brew a cup of this wonderful deliciousness (and have been quite nagging actually now that I think about it) due to this long transition in our nomadic lifestyle.

6. My Love: My husband whom I never tire of (well, ahem...almost never and I'm sure the feeling is mutual) who shares this crazy traveling adventure these past several months with me - the only constant in my roller coaster life right now.

I know some might say that technically we have only 5 senses, but I believe that we have many more to perceive and make "sense" of the world that can be awakened especially when we make ourselves aware of them. And besides, I needed 6 items for this tagging thing so there you go.

Ok now it's your turn. Hmm, who shall I pick as my lucky victims?

Stephanie from Stephanie N Mark
~
Sireesha from In Every Grain of Sand
~
Mimi from My Mandala
~
Lindsay from Life in the Wanch
~
Mary from Liberty for All
~
Brie from John & The Girls

The Rules:
1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.
5. Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.
and I'm adding another rule:
7. If you don't want to do this, then don't. I won't hold it against you! It's just for fun. =)

Enjoy the journey!

Temple in a Cave

2009-02-23T09:39:00.000+08:00

We continue our nomadic wanderings with a stop in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, home of the majestic and truly elegant Petronas Towers. We enjoy cheap shopping, delicious food, gentle people (excluding the opportunistic cab drivers who get their kicks from gauging tourists) and tropical weather.

We make a small journey just 8 miles north of the city to find an enchanted cave filled with a series of Hindu temples and shrines - the Batu (aka Bat - yes, we saw some) Caves.

Ganesha welcomes us, with dozens of replica's of himself at the base of the cave, guarding and protecting this holy place.

We embark on an eternal staircase, our legs quivering like jelly once we finally reach the top only to find that there is another staircase to the inner cave in front of us, luckily, not as long and torturous.

Each year, during the Thaipusam festival, over a million devoted Lord Murugan worshippers, having performed cleansing rituals such as fasting and praying (and for others some more intense symbolic gestures such as body piercing), hike the 8 hour journey to these sacred caves and up the eternal staircase from the Sri Mahamarianmman Temple in Kuala Lumpur. Some pull or carry heavy "burdens" to symbolize their sacrifice. These offerings or Kavadi are often milk-filled vessels carried on their heads. And here I am complaining after having been driven here in an air-conditioned taxi only to hike a "measly" 272++ steps and my only weight is my digital camera!

Okay, chalo...let's go in.

We're greeted by several colorful small shrines along the way to the inner cave as well as a few vendors' booths for the tourists who feel like getting trapped.

We wander (ahem...) I mean, I wander around the cave as Mahesh sits like the Buddha waiting patiently for his curious wife to get her daily fill of Indian culture. Whatever, he so loves this. Riiiiight.

We remove our shoes as we near the main temple. The stone cools our bare feet, though at the same time, I'm wondering how many bare feet have stood here and if the floor is ever cleaned. Nevermind, I comfort myself with a healthy dose of denial.

A popular kirtan hymn gently echoes off the towering limestone cave walls.

Cool droplets of water occasionally drip on our heads from above. We watch the droplets twinkle as they fall as if in slow motion while the sun cascades down through holes in the ceiling of the cave illuminating everything it touches.

Suddenly, we feel the wind that can only be from the flapping wings of a family of bats as they whizz by overhead.

The faint and sometimes strong scent of incense wafts through the blessedly cool cave air.

A priest in his simple garb is busy at work preparing an offering. Mischievous monkeys watch him closely. They turn their heads to a newly arriving group of rowdy tourists and lurk about trying to be cute and just wait for someone to be foolish enough to take out a snack or something shiny which the monkeys see as rightfully their own and you can be sure that they'll clearly indicate this by force more often than not.

There seems to be so much activity and movement depicted on the temples. My camera zooms in to see the story they tell.

No...go even closer.

A spirit with many stories to tell resides here.

Kung Hei Fat Choy

2009-01-28T20:51:00.000+08:00

Kung Hei Fat Choy=Happy New Year

This week Hong Kong celebrates it's biggest holiday complete with lights, decorations and lion dances throughout the city. It is a big deal for the Chinese - comparable to if not bigger than Christmas in America. We enjoy a quiet evening with friends while overhearing the booming fireworks in Victoria Harbour. I've been spending much time the past several weeks chilling in nature and just being instead of doing.

Follow the steep road up and up. Lined with thick sloped forest, the road seems endless even though it's end is quite close to the city. The journey is not for the faint of heart, winding around every bend enough to give you major motion sickness. Don't look down if you're vertigo sensitive.

Continuing up you disappear into the cloudy mists, sharing the narrow road with big buses and speeding Ferrari's with a deathwish. Cliffs on your right, now on your left, boasting an amazing view of the colorful Hong Kong city skyline.

So close, yet so far, we like escaping the chaos of the city, yet it's nice to know that the city is right there if we need anything. That's the New Yorker in me coming out (so spoiled, I know). It is surreal to be towering over Hong Kong's towers.

Finally you arrive at the summit. A charming resort-like neighborhood is perched at the top of Hong Kong's mountains called The Peak. Several degrees cooler up here than in the city centre hundreds of feet below, we enjoy several weeks of much needed R&R here. The wonderfully crisp Autumn weather is a refreshing change from tropical Singapore.

It is often so misty up here that you can barely see 10 meters in front of you. Mahesh grew up in Hong Kong and as a child they nicknamed parts of The Peak, "Ghost Town", because of it's thick fog and eerie quiet.

We enjoy waking up to birds singing, long breakfasts and tranquil walks through the numerous hiking trails where you forget you're in one of the busiest cities in the world. The wind carries the faint smell of a cozy firewood burning somewhere while eagles soar and swoop overhead.

Come take a stroll with me.

So many wildflowers line the trails and my camera seems to fancy them. I spy...

...white silky petals with a brilliant yellow center...

...perfect rubyred round berries...

...and some cute little purple fuzzy ones. I know, I know...my horticulture vocabulary is quite advanced.

These little ones seem to flirt with me...

...while these bits of perfection remind me of a walk through a vineyard.

I happen upon some happy lavender flowers...

...and a tree trunk with thorns.

These red Chinese lanterns that seem to say "Kung Hei Fat Choy", also look like bells blowing in the wind and ringing in the New Year. This is also the time of year when everyone passes out little envelopes the same color as these flowers by the dozen. And inside...yup, cash.

I have a soft spot for things that grow on tree trunks.

These purple trumpets boast a star in their delicate petals.

These delicate little buds appear to pop like corn kernals...

...while yellow daisies enjoy the sunshine as much as I do.

We end our day watching the sun take a dip into the South China Sea. Then the wind begins to howl and we retreat inside where we cuddle up under a warm blanket next to a crackling fireplace, roasting marshmallows and watching movies. Ahhh, so beautifully simple. And with all the work we've been doing the past several months and coping with the uncertainty of our life right now as we're in limbo, we rest and try to just be. Why can't every day be like this?

Greatness

2009-01-20T21:12:00.000+08:00

I'm so excited...I just can't hide it...I'm about to lose control and I think I like it!

A Singlish Holiday

2009-01-10T09:10:00.000+08:00

Still homeless vagabonds, we traipse through Asia. Our next stop...The Garden City: Singapore.

Singapore: One big air-conditioned shopping mall surrounded by lovely lush gardens, brilliant green parks and the Bukit Timah Rainforest. Where one minute you are drenched from the sweltering tropical island heat and the next minute your sweat has frozen as you walk into the Siberian air-conditioned supermalls.

We walk with the masses along the infamous Orchard Road lined with massive shopping centers each trying to outdo the other with their lights and holiday decorations.

Locals tell us that each year the decorations seem to grow thicker and the lights multiply.

We manuver our way through the crowds of people who seem to enjoy walking sideways, diagonally and even backward. Grrr. An ideal place for people watching, we pass a local woman playing Jinglebells on her pipa (a Chinese guitar-like instrument), while 50 feet away a pair of child contortionists perform their pretzel bending moves drawing quite a crowd, as their "trainer" sits on the sidelines with a sleazy smirk on her face.
.

The uhh "aroma" of Durian fruit wafting through the air from the general direction of the beautiful and impressive Esplanade Theatre (an architectural marvel shaped like a pair of the stinking national fruit) where it's refreshing to see that there remains a place in this world where people still dress in their finest to go see the ballet.

To get us even more in the Christmas spirit (as if it wasn't blasted in our faces already on Orchard Road) we enjoy a performance of the Nutcracker by the Singapore Dance Theatre in this gorgeous building while trying to keep warm by cuddling in our sweaters which we brought along.

Often termed an eating capital, food is culture as much as it is a religion here and we happily assimilate. The many outdoor hawker centers and eating houses (which are basically a collection of local food stalls in one location) that dot the land are choc full of culinary delights, a highlight of this country that's sure to leave a good taste in your mouth.

Taking refuge from the daily afternoon thunderstorm, we set our travel size tissue pack on a table to reserve our spot and then we walk around the 15-30 stalls, looking for the longest queue, salivating on the array of tasty choices, from the simple to the bizarre.

While it's difficult to appoint our favourite Singapore flavours as there are so many, we particularly enjoy the mouthwatering Hainanese Chicken Rice and mouth-burning Laksa, which we wash down with freshly pressed sugar cane juice followed by the wonderful Ruby Red & Sago dessert. This feast for two we enjoy for less than $15! The price is indeed no reflection of the taste. Yes...we could get used to this.

In time, we'll try the local favorites like sambal stingray and fish head curry. And with regular governmental checks and a reliable "ABC" rating system, you can trust the hawker stalls to be as clean as the Vatican's dining hall pre-Christmas dinner.

I am struck by the charm and beauty of the colonial-era shophouses, some of which are converted into homes for those who are wealthy enough to afford them.

My excited camera clicks away as my poor husband runs away in fear of being termed a "tourist".

Trying to blend in, we attend the local pantomime comedy show: Snow White. Not quite Broadway or even off-Broadway, it was still quite entertaining as it poked fun at Singapore politics with all the bells, whistles and cross-dressers in musical fashion. Possibly more amusing though was watching the audience, particularly the adults, get all nerdy with their toy hand clappers and noise makers.

A peculiar and wholesome people inhabit this kingdom. Some can be a bit robotic, yet it is apparent that a refreshing creative edge is on the rise.

As an English Major, I cringe hearing Singlish, a crazy mutt slang language (a combination of Chinese, English, Malay and even some Indian languages). It has become the national language much to the chagrin of the Singapore government in their efforts to forge a worldclass city and financial center. Having a staccato feel to it, Singlish can have quick and sharp voiceless stops, while mixing different languages and accents within the same sentence. You ask how can? Tack on the ubiquitous "lah" on the end of every other phrase or so for emphasis if you want to try it out. No nid gramma. Forgit all you learn lah. Can try? Dis easy lah. Later free or not? Wah, so good you try lah!

Despite the perplexing cultural nuances of this country which can take some getting used to, it is a fascinating place that makes a lot of sense if you give it a chance. For example, in the Geylang area, prostitution is legal, but only on the even numbered streets. Trust Singaporeans to think of regulating everything. It is actually quite smart if you think about it because they figure it is going to happen anyway, so they might has well have some control over it.

Mat Oakley (author of our Lonely Planet travel guide) articulates it best:

"It's popular to dismiss Singapore as a kind of Asia Lite - blandly efficient and safe, a boringly tasteless, disciplinarian and unadventurous place where citizens are robbed of their cherished freedom to spit on the street and chew gum. Utter nonsense!"

Many countries, particularly in Asia, covet the efficiency of Singapore though may never admit it publicly. A virtually crime-free and wholesome place, none can match the uniqueness of this fascinating culture and people. Besides, I have always wanted to live in a gun-free country. Is that really too much to ask for?

Singapore: Pristinely clean, safe and orderly, this city comes as close to utopia as you can imagine. Even the dirt is clean (except in Little India-ha ha). Everything just works here. And if all that wasn't good enough, each evening after satisfying our taste buds at our neighborhood hawker center, we enjoy a miraculous mosquito-free stroll through the many lush parks and gardens of this topical paradise.

Where else can your five senses deeply experience the rich cultures of India, China and Malaysia all in one place? Only in Singapore. I can't say it more simply: I like it here.

Many Paths

2008-12-19T02:14:00.000+08:00

Feeling tall at only 5'6", I explore this foreign city that gradually becomes less foreign by the day, thanks to the human chameleon ability to quickly adjust and adapt to one's surroundings. With the incessant dinging of the cross walking signals, I feel I'm in a casino -- as if just walking across the street means you're a winner and to some extent, in Hong Kong, you are. This is just one of the not-so-subliminal messages the city gives you on a daily basis along with a preoccupation with materialism, commercialism, and other 'ism's constantly reflected in the thousands of sparkling mirrors, shiny steel and spotless glass found everywhere in this city.

As I cross the street, I constantly remind myself to "Look Left" as driving is on the left side of the road here. I look around and notice that with few exceptions, there are basically only 3 types of cars here: Mercedes, BMW's and Lexus' - money reigns here.

As I explore the city enjoying the intoxicating weather (dry weather averages between 50-60 deg F in December and a little cooler in January), I encounter new smells and sounds. I am in awe of the wild beautiful exotic birds and plants that I have only ever seen in zoo's or special botanic gardens.

This is a city of diversity on many levels. Not only is Hong Kong home to a sophisticated international population, it's land ranges from mountains to valleys, chilled beaches to charming little villages, thick wild jungles to the bustling glittering city which boasts an impressive super modern skyline. There is something for everyone here on this not-so-big island.

I enjoyed an intense hike with my brother-in-law in The Peak where I forgot I was in Hong Kong. I can see how hiking can become my new habit (no thanks to my complaining calf muscles) during my stay here. Who would have thought you could find such peace and solitude in nature within one of the busiest cities in the world. There are hundreds of hikes throughout the area, many very steep and demanding as Hong Kong has many pointed peaks covered with thick green jungle. My life is not complete without nature or a place to retreat to for centering myself so I'm very happy about the diversity of the terrain.

One of the things I find most charming about this city is the numerous ways to get to the same location. You can have your choice of small alleys, stairways or garden pathways to large footbridges or underground walkways.

I enjoyed descending this stairway in Central after visiting a beautiful government monument building which I will photograph later.

These raised walkways labyrinth themselves around the business district in Hong Kong. I try a different bridge every day as I get my bearings which wind through and around buildings and shopping centers.

Ah ha! An old charming building - I found one! No small feat.

One of the unfortunate things in this thriving city is that there are few old historical buildings (at least in the central business area) due to commercial building and the addiction to "new" shiny superstructures. I believe efforts are being made to protect some of the older landmark buildings. So I will make it my new project these next few months to find these old charming buildings amid the new structures. I'm still quite impressed by and appreciative of the modern towering buildings that are so part of the unique personality of Hong Kong.

I stumbled above this little tree-lined stairway connecting two major streets in the middle of the city.

Hong Kong has the longest covered stretch of moving walkway in the world - the Midlevels escalator, which can take you from your office to your apartment in a matter of minutes if you're lucky enough to live in the Midlevels area. At 800 meters long with a vertical climb of 135 meters, the total travel time of this outdoor wonder is twenty minutes.

I spent a day wandering through the botanical gardens and zoo in the center of town which house very talkative monkeys along with other equally vocal animals. I exit the plant and animal jungle through this Chinese gate framing the ever impressive skyline and walk into a human jungle.

The diversity of the land makes walking to and from my yoga school every day more interesting and more like a discovery. My school is located in the trendy Lang Kwai Fong area, a hilly section of town that has a San Francisco-like feel to it, with narrow streets, stairways and some low-rise buildings. This is the heart of the entertainment district and is a short walk from the central business district, making it possible for the hard-working Masters of the Universe to retreat to after a long day.

Still feeling quite disappointed with the quality of yoga schools here in Hong Kong, I continue my search, yet feeling I might just need to settle with what they have here or start my own school one of these days. As Yogi Braja pointed out, many schools here lack the appreciation for the lifestyle of yoga and rather treat it only as another money-making business transaction. Yet again, perhaps that is just another indication of the personality of this city seeping through every thing.

Well, I'm off to have some Dim Sum -- always been my favorite meal. I can't seem to ever get enough.

Magic Carpet Ride

2008-11-19T09:32:00.000+08:00

The Indian and his American bride are about to embark on a new adventure! We bid farewell...no...see-you-later, to our beloved New York that has been our home for many years. We'll be back, don't worry (and I say that mostly to myself as I have a bit of a love affair with this city).

We'll board an eastward (very far eastward) bound magic carpet which will fly us over the North Pole (quite a sight from above). Then heading south we'll glide like eagles above the majestic mountains of Mongolia.

We will eventually land (after about 16 hours...eek...you really start to feel it around hour 12) in a distant exotic land in the Orient: the glittering city of Hong Kong.

And they say New York is the city that never sleeps - they obviously haven't been to HK. When it comes to speed, if New York City is a BMW, then Hong Kong is a Ferrari.

Upon landing, we'll automatically be transported into a time machine to the year 2050 to the ubermodern Chek Lap Kok, Hong Kong's International Airport. HKIA spent $70 billion on airport related infrastructure like major reclamation of land and also boasts an impressive suspension bridge that funnels people to and from this busy hub. Go shove it, La Guardia! I will not miss you.

Like most airports outside of the US, HKIA offers free--yes free, my American readers--baggage trolleys.

We will then be transported into town to the magical land of Hong Kong Island on a little quiet hill away from the hustle and bustle where the handsome and wonderful father of my Indian husband dwells with his lovely wife. Here we will stay until we hop on our magic vessel again for the next leg of our adventure. I will be doing much exploring of the city and surrounding areas during this extended holiday. First on my list: find the perfect yoga studio. I have my priorities.

Many more adventures to come in Singapore, Kaula Lumpur, Pulau Pangkor, Penang, and more. Of course how could any adventure be complete without INDIA! That country hasn't seen the last of me.

Stay tuned...

Yoga & Candy Corn

2008-11-18T04:17:00.000+08:00

The past several months of getting ready for an "extended holiday" to explore various parts of Asia have been more than intense. Deciding on a shipping company, negotiating, packing, storing, planning, giving, selling, craigslisting, tossing, goodbyeing, address changing, organizing...it's madness! When will it end??

"It has actually been quite a liberating experience as we're getting organized by getting rid of things we really don't need and learning the value of detachment and the powerful lesson that minimalism is the ideal way to live", says my optimistic self who is always trying to chime in at any chance she gets. However, organizing every.....single.....item we own in my Virgo-husband's numerous highly methodical categories and meticulous flowcharts is "annoying!", complains my not so optimistic self also fighting to get a word in.

Two lifesavers that have kept me sane these last couple months: Yoga & Candy Corn.

Yoga to stay grounded as I un-ground and contort my body to maintain a fresh and clear perspective on life, and Candy Corn for mental stability when I'm not practicing yoga. I can't hold my downward facing dog all day, right? True, chowing down on sweets is probably not the best coping mechanism, but for now it works wonders.

One of the things I've always loved about New York City is that you can find anything, and I mean anything, here at anytime of the day or night. Anything that is, except fresh Candy Corns. During the month of October (and part of November if you're lucky), candy stores across this nation are graced with this scrumptious little triangular-shaped tricolored treat. You can probably find the wanna-be's year round, but those are old and hard and not worth the trouble. Trust me, they are freshest during this time of the year.

Candy Corns are simply one of the most fabulous candies ever invented. Born in 1880, these remarkable little creations have been blessing American lives ever since. They're cheap and far from nutritious being choc full of corn syrup and artificial coloring. "But they are sweetened with real honey!" I plead in their defense. Ahhh, who am I kidding. Sugar is sugar. I can't help but love them.

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

Just a little tidbit: According to Brach's Confections, Inc., the top branded maker of candy corn, each year Americans eat enough Brach's candy corn that if the kernels were laid end to end, they would circle the Earth 4.25 times. Yikes! And what's more Yikes is that I am to blame for at least once around the globe.

These trinkets of honey sweet yummyness have an amazing texture that makes you want to keep on popping these delightful precious pieces, allowing you to regress to childhood where worries and work were less and play was more. Something happens along the way to adulthood that throws off this ideal balance. Eating candy corns is one of the ways I am trying to regain that balance. Yea, I know I'm really reaching. :)

I just bought our local candy store's (who know me by first name at this point) last supply of these sweet little addictive bites. They only had the brown ones which are not as good as the yellow ones, but I'll take anything at this point. I couldn't unwrap the "plastic seal to preserve freshness" fast enough. Ironically, my beloved candies were far from fresh which their seal had promised, and nearly cracked my teeth! "Uh oh, too old, take 'em back!" Alas, these rare last bites are too far gone to be enjoyed. I grudgingly part with them, leaving empty-handed and head hanging low. And of course they candy chef gods only make these wondrous treats only during these two short months because that is when they're freshest. If I'm mistaken on this, please correct me! I guess I'll just have to wait until next October for savor my favorite candy. Oooh ;(

Must...find...another...candy to replace my addiction and satisfy my sweet tooth in the meantime. Any suggestions?? It's for my mental stability after all.

At least yoga doesn't have an expiration date. My daily meditation and asana practice fulfills me and recharges my patience while I wait for next October.

Om...

America Just Rebooted!!

2008-11-06T08:46:00.000+08:00

Never before has a smile crossed my face so many times after having been woken up by New York City street noise than last night. The energy here is joyous and uplifting and that was clearly evident all night long. Just when you thought the last group of jubilant New Yorkers passed by on the street below loudly expressing their glee, another group of eager nightowls came charging through with just as much momentum as if they were students returning from the pub after having just finished their finals x100.

After many years of negativity, divisiveness, cynicism and intolerance which seems to have clouded this country's greatness, I literally feel a tremendous weight lifted with this awesome change. In one day, our country has completely rebooted and there is a new focus and the world can look at us in a different light.

Obama has a hell of a job ahead of him with all the many issues that confront us. However, I have never felt so safe, so secure and so confident that he'll take good care of us and the world for that matter, for he is realistic, grounded, even-tempered, positive, and refreshingly wise as he inspires and attempts to unite this divided country.

I could go on...as could my Indian husband who wished he could have voted as he is very passionate and knowledgeable about politics, but I think you get the message.

I'm so inspired, overjoyed and proud! It's been a long time since I've felt this way.

Yes We Can!

The Festival of Lights

2008-10-29T09:46:00.000+08:00

Happy Diwali!

This wonderous and blessed holiday celebrates light and goodness. Occuring on the darkest night (the new moon) during the Fall equinox, Diwali or Deepawali ("array of lamps") focuses on personal victory from spiritual darkness and embraces all beings with light and brightness.

I recently learned about the dark, very dark, Goddess Kali, who is one of the many representations of God according to some Hindu's beliefs. She is also one of the most misunderstood of all the gods, as she can appear quite scary. To me, she represents the duality of the good and the bad in all of us. She brings death to the ego, which can be painful, but absolutely necessary, as then and only then can the real divine self emerge, illuminated and full of light and goodness!

Diwali takes place during the Fall equinox which is significant as this time of the year is marked with great change and is a crossroads not only for climate and tilt of our planet towards the sun, but also to all of us individually as we experience transition in our lives. This month, I find that I often take time to observe and reflect on not only personal change but dramatic global changes (including this volatile economy) that affect all beings.

We always attend a particular party hosted by our dear friends on this evening surrounded with family and loved ones and of course plenty of Indian outfits! Many families attend this party after pooja ceremonies. I love the symbolism of light with all the glowing candles during this joyous festival.

Oh, to be in India during the festivities. Can you imagine the magic of thousands of floating candles on the River Ganges!? What a sight...now that would be a photo. Perhaps you've been? If so, indulge me...please tell me all about it!

A Poem By Kumud Biswas

...................................................The autumn has covered with her veil
...................................................All the lamps of the sky of this winter night

...................................................She has sent her call to every home,

...................................................‘Light up all your lamps, your Diwali lamps

...................................................And dress the earth with light.’

...................................................There are no flowers in the garden

...................................................The singing birds do not sing

...................................................Along the banks of the river

...................................................The reeds have shed their flowers

...................................................Sweep away all shadows and sadness

...................................................Light up your lamps, your Diwali lamps

...................................................And sing of the victory of light.

...................................................The gods are looking on

...................................................Wake up O ye children of the world

...................................................Wake up the night with your light

...................................................When the day is done and darkness comes

...................................................Light up your lamps

...................................................To win over the darkness with your light.

Bindi Time

2008-10-02T04:50:00.000+08:00

I rarely have the opportunity to wear a bindi (other than around my home - yes, my husband thinks I'm a nut) but a few evenings ago we attended a lavish birthday party of a good friend and yes, we got to get all dressed up in Indian Chic.

Turban-wearing shirtless men (who have spent way too much time at the gym) balanced like statues on tall pillars holding long torches with wildly burning flames, made for quite the grand welcome to this elaborate party in a very hip gallery in the far nether regions of West Chelsea in Manhattan.

3 mendhi artists were also on call, which you know yours truly took full advantage of. See....

Below are some bindi's in my personal collection, which of course I don't get to wear in public nearly as often as I would like.

Bindi's are originally a sacred symbol but are also used as adornment, such as when attending festivities. Quite flattering as a fashion accessory, they come is all shapes, colors and sizes. Plus, they make me feel Indian so I'm always a fan of that. =)

The bindi is placed on the spiritual (or third) eye, which is in the middle of the forehead. Hindus believe this sacared part of the body to be for spiritual sight. While highlighting the third eye, the bindi also protects it which helps to cultivate spiritual vision. Through the third eye, Hindus believe to see all that which cannot be seen through the two physical eyes.

In my yoga and meditation practice I've been focusing more on my third eye, drawing energy all through the central line of the body and the effects are deep and powerful. My teachers also stress the benefits of the spiritual eye making contact with the floor during balasana, or child's pose, when the body can surrender to gravity and the overactive mind can become quiet thus enabling the third eye to open. It is believed that when the individual's spiritual eye opens he attains true enlightenment and gets closer to God.

INdia VOGUE

2008-08-22T00:16:00.000+08:00

Divia, our lovely cousin from Mumbai, stayed with us in New York for a week earlier this year. As a Features Editor at Vogue India, she was excitedly working on one of her biggest stories yet: an Interview with Jhumpa Lahiri. YES, I know!

On a snowy day, Divia recalls in her writing, she took the trek out to Brooklyn to the charming and quaint neighborhood of Park Slope, which also happens to my old neighborhood before my marriage and my move to Manhattan.

Featured in the April '08 issue, Ms. Lahiri speaks with Divia of about how some writers (many who have long since passed on) speak to and inspire her about humanity and border crossings, both literally and methaphorically. Ms. Lahiri expresses, "It's amazing to have such a powerful recognition with a writer who has been dead for centuries. That's the amazing thing about reading. You can feel these intense connections to another writer, another time, another reality. It doesn't matter what divides us." I also feel this special connection when I read Ms. Lahiri's wonderful works. It is a beautiful bonding experience that harbors such an appreciation for life, which is what makes her writing so deeply intimate.

Through Divia's eyes: "There is a moment when, standing in her cosy living room in a plaid skirt and black sweater, gold bangles on her wrists, surrounded by books and cookies, teas and toys, Octavio and Noor clutching at her legs, Jhumpa Lahiri is not the famous, reclusive, prize-winning writer: She is not thinking about the long journeys her parents made across the oceans decades ago, about whether or not her children will ever speak Bengali or live in a country where a woman is president. For that brief minutes, Jhumpa looks incredibly happy to be living in the moment, forgetful of the next border she has to cross."

Now about Divia: her energy is like sunshine on a rainy day - she is such a pleasure to be around and has such an excitement for life and living in the moment. After she completed her article, we played and talked and ate. And then of course we went shopping - something that Divia is a true professional at. =D

I can't resist. Here are a few of my favorite spreads found elsewhere in this issue.

The contrasting colors and life in this photo take my breath away.

An ad for the prestigious Taj Hotel reads: "Of course the Maharaja's car will be there to receive you. You're staying with him, aren't you?" What a memorable experience we had when we were lucky enough to stay even for a few nights at a heritage property converted palace. I love the history - you can feel it in the air.

But of course we must have an Austrian crystal-encrusted Ganesha clutch! After all, this is Vogue. It's yours for only $5,585.00!

This is definitely going on my shopping list. My husband thinks I need another Indian outfit like the world needed another 4 years of George Bush.

Now for some interior design in the Vogue Living section:

To all of you designers, I think you'll appreciate this hallway in my uhh...future home ... why yes, thank you, the intricately carved woodwork is fantastic, if I do say so myself. Let's check out the outside, shall we?

Some more outfits I can drool over...

This lengha is one of the prettiest and most unique I've ever seen.

It is ridiculous how beautiful you are, Aishwarya.

Umm...hi...

I eagerly await my next issue...and the next visit from my sweet Divia!

Aloka Beauty

2008-07-29T01:48:00.000+08:00

Naga Earrings with Green Tourmaline

Here we go again...my insatiable appetite for Indian things continues to thrive. I recently bought these lovely earrings from my friend Lakshmi who designs and hand-makes jewelry as a hobby here in New York. Hmmm...this hobby may become more than just a hobby in my prediction. I must say, I'm quite a fan of her work.

"These earrings take inspiration from the hood of the cobra--all the lines are serpentine. The marquis-cut faceted green tourmaline set in gold vermeil present a regal look." says Lakshmi Sonbuchner creator of Aloka Jewelry. "Aloka means vision, glimmer, an opening, of the eyes in the ancient Indian language Sanskrit."

I'm grateful to Mary for introducing me to the talented Lakshmi whose wonderful soul is reflected in her intricate work. Taking much pride in her work, all profits are donated to Asha for Education (ashanet.org), which supports educational projects for the poor in India.

A couple of other lovely pieces...

Mynah Bird Silver Wings

Blooming Lotus

Her beautifully line (which she is always adding to) can be seen here. Hmmm, I think I might just wander over there now...

She and her husband, Tim, also have a fantastic photography website, which features breathtaking views from their travels in Kerala, Jaipur, Tamil Nadu and Agra.

Lakshmi is quite the renaissance woman with a myriad a talents. I am easily transported back to my beloved India through her lens. You too can also mind-travel there by clicking here.

Monsoon wedding, anyone?

2008-06-24T04:32:00.000+08:00

I collect Indian wedding invitations and cherish them. I think it's lovely to see a couple's and family's creativity and personality through the design, color, texture, etc. Of course we can't attend every Indian wedding as many of them take place in India, but I try to drag my poor husband to as many of them as possible, because when else would I get the chance to wear my sari's? Here are some of my favorite invitations that I've received over the past couple years...

The pretty sari material in the background was a wedding gift from one of Mahesh's cousins. One of the regrets I have about living in NY rather than India is small number of occasions where I could wear my traditional outfits.

This invitation arrived in a padded, silk covered monogrammed box! Can you imagine my excitement?! Uhh, yes. We were very busy at this extravagant wedding at the Beverly Hills Hotel of our cousin Ravi to the lovely Monica where my husband and his brother Anil from Hong Kong were also groomsmen. They recently welcomed a darling baby daughter into the world, that, ahem...I still need to meet.

Unfortunately we're invited to more weddings than we are able to attend and this was one of them. Yes, there are loose sequins under a clear plastic covering on the Sangeet invitation....I wonder what the party was like?!

This romantic wedding of our dear cousin Anjali took place in Goa several weeks after our India trip, so consequently and sadly, we were not able to attend. This is our announcement of our secret and low-key wedding last September. The delicate paper is sitting atop a gorgeous lengha that my auntie had made for me. My husband's family have been so warm and welcoming to me. Maybe we'll have our own Indian wedding one day. Shhhhh. Don't tell my husband--I'll have to surprise him.

I finally had the pleasure of attending a wedding in India. In Mumbai, Mohit (another close cousin of my husband and now mine too) married his lovely bride Natasha. Having India as a backdrop for this wedding was truly a magical experience.

Now, this invitation is resting on one of my favorite sari's that one of my aunties had made for me. It looks completely breathtaking on me, (my husband just wrote that, I promise).

My good friend, Jules, who I met at Bhangra class several years ago, recently married her long-time sweetheart, Wakar in Pakistan. I live vicariously through their handsome wedding photos where Jules, the blond princess, looks like she was born to wear a wedding lengha.

This is the invitation of our dear friends and "mad scientists" (they're actually just very smart Phd students with many other interests), Ram and Mary. Like us, they are also a lovely ethnic mix of Indian and American and had their wedding in Dallas. You can view Mary's enjoyable blog here.

This elaborate wedding took place at a castle in, would you believe, New York! During the Barat Nikashi (the welcoming of the groom), the groom rode in on an elaborately adorned white horse. The bride leaned over her half-moon balcony on the top floor of the castle in her wedding lengha, like a longing Juliet reaching down for her dearest. It was all quite over-the-top and dramatic, but extremely enjoyable and elegant.

108 Temples

2008-06-10T01:15:00.000+08:00

I'm missing India.

Mind travel is the quickest way to get back there, so let's go...

There is yet another special place (I know, I keep saying that) that remains engraved in my memory: The Temples of Eklingji.

On our trip in January, we took a lovely 30 minute drive north of Udaipur (which, in my humble opinion, deserves the designation given by some as India's most romantic city), through the rolling hillsides and quaint villages, passing goat and cow herders along the way. We arrived at the gate of the ancient temple complex, and as usual I could not resist pulling out my camera. However, this time, men standing guard gently told me not to take any photographs. These pictures you see in this post are from different websites.

Just outside the gates of the temple, we walked through a stone path lined with women in brightly colored saris sitting on the floor and stringing orange and yellow marigolds and other flowers into garlands for the Gods. "5 rupees" they softly sang and swayed in harmony as they displayed their flowers for sale.

We removed our shoes as we entered the temple complex.

These 108 temples, known for their exquisitely carved sandstone and marble, were originally built around AD 734 by Bappa Rawal in devotion to Lord Shiva. The Maharana of Udaipur (who we actually saw in his speedboat on Lake Pichola) visits weekly to pay his respects.

The cold stone under my bare feet was refreshing in the heat of the day, as I wandered around the intimate complex exploring the 108 temples ranging in size. Some were so small, and I took upon myself the challenge of trying to visit and count each of them, some of which seem to be hiding down different little pathways and up stone stairways. Where's Mahesh, my husband? Probably enjoying the coolness under the shade of the many old trees that surround the area making it like a cave.

As I wandered to my heart's content, I heard aartis (devotional songs) in the distance at one of the main temples where all the action seems to be at the moment. I strolled over to see what was going on. I tiptoed into the largest structure where I saw Hindu priests directing pujas and different Hindu rituals as worshippers and visitors watch with reverence.

Then all of a sudden a large bell was rung. It was so loud I had to step out of the temple. As I breathed in the air, I felt the age of the place and the history, and sensed a tangible spirit of peace and devotion in the air.

We drove a little further to the deserted village of Nagda. Here are the ruins of the Saas Bahu temple.

The ancient Vaishnavite twin structures (10th-century) is set against a bright green lake. No longer in use like Eklingji is, these temples still have a quiet reverence surrounding them. I felt like an archaeologist in discovery. Exploring between the two structures, we had the entire place to ourselves...until a gigantic tour bus came charging in like a mad elephant and many many people wearing khaki shorts and sneakers stepped out and ran towards the structures, cameras in tote. So much for our peace and quiet; it was nice while it lasted.

Dance Parade

2008-05-24T10:15:00.000+08:00

Distant drum sounds that gradually became louder filled my neighborhood a couple weeks ago. I looked out the bedroom window and here's what I saw.

Dancing on the streets of Manhattan!

It was the New York Annual Dance Parade. We saw many different forms of dance performed down on University Place. Albanian, Belly Dance, Street Dance, Modern, Flamenco, Hip-Hop, Rumba, Swing, Salsa, Tribal, Tango, Korean and YES, of course Bhangra, and many more.

New York has a silly law that you are not allowed to dance at bars or restaurants if the place doesn't have a "dance license". Crazy, I know. Can you imagine if they did that in Europe? A revolution waiting to happen.

I enjoyed seeing so many different forms of dance all coming together on this day in the celebration of dance. Inspiring!

When I Need A Good Laugh

2008-05-15T10:05:00.001+08:00

Kathak, My New Love

2008-05-13T10:09:00.000+08:00

My lovely dance instructor invited me and another good friend (also a lover of all things Indian) to perform Kathak at a stylish wedding of two Bohemian artists in New York City several weeks ago. Hmmm...being Indian for a day?...let me think about that one...umm...YES, I'll do it!!

It was such a fantastic experience and a night I will remember forever. My dear friends that I danced with are two of the most special and beautiful souls I know. They are the type of women who inspire and uplift with their warm presence and spiritual energy. Time stands still when I'm with them. I felt like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight when the evening ended.

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And....the special evening was just one more excellent excuse to wear my bangles, anklets and bindi!
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My interest in Kathak began when my husband and I were in India in December last year. I had been dancing "Bollywood" for a while and looking for something more traditional and spiritual. In Delhi, we stayed with Mahesh's very good friend, Sanjay and his gracious wife, Priya. Their lovely 12 year old daughter, Saraswati, practices Kathak and put on a wonderful performance for us during our stay. Her dance instructor sang bols (rhythmic words) and played his tabla to direct her dance. He comes to their home each week for Saraswati's practice. Her mastery at spinning made me dizzy. I could only hope to become that good.

Also, while staying at Udaipur's Lake Palace (see previous post Sweet Lap of Luxury), I was entranced by the Kathak performer. She danced with so much soul and mesmerized the entire audience, especially the men! I am learning the power of abhinaya which is body language and expression without speech.

Kathak (which translates: to tell a story) is an ancient art originating in the 13th century in Hindu temples. I enjoy learning about Hinduism through the spirit of the dance which is embedded with the elegant poses resembling the many manifestations of God, including Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva and Ganesh. One of my favorite poses is Shiva, which is why I now have this nagging hip pain :).

My dance instructor gracefully teaches about abhinaya (expression), mudras (divine hand gestures) and fast rhythmic foot work. Above all, she teaches by example that dance comes from within the spirit and needs to be felt from the soul.

I am so looking forward to our next performance...

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Best Mango in the World?

2008-05-04T02:00:00.000+08:00

Alphonso, Benishaan (or Banganpalli in Telugu and Tamil) and Kesar mango varieties are considered by many (those lucky enough to have tried one) among the best mangoes in the world. I've only tried the aplhonso's, and the flavour is...umm, wow! It is difficult to describe, but I'll have a go at it: distinct, highly concentrated, very sweet and juicy, having a superior "zing-factor", earthy (almost "gamey" but a non-meat version, if that makes any sense). In fact, unripe mangoes are more sour than lemons and are therefore popularly used as a souring agent in Indian cooking. As for the color of this scrumptious fruit, it is a brilliant orange like I've never seen before.

This may come as a surprise to many, but mangoes are originally native to India even though they are now grown in many tropical areas all over the world.

Interestingly, the skin is chock-full of antioxidants as is the case with the skins of many other fruits and vegetables. I'll think twice before throwing the peels away, even though my husband would never consider chewing on one as he was brought up believing you don't eat them. Even as I write this he has a uncomfortable look on his face as he leans over my shoulder...

A Most Excellent Cup of Masala Chai

2008-04-28T02:00:00.000+08:00

I want to expand on a previous post, Masala Chai, as I was inspired by Chandan's recent post on her delicious Masala Lemon Chai (seriously, you all must try it - amazing recipe!).

I've been going through tremendous India withdrawals since returning from our travels there. Being in India was like coming home as it awakened many things in me. Perhaps I am an old soul from India...

One of the things that takes us back to India is a scrumptous cup of masala chai with it's soothing and comforting effects. Scents, flavours and music are all such powerful time/place transporters. Mahesh and I sampled tea wherever we went. Funnily enough, his favorite was at the departure lounge of the uhhh..."glorious" Mumbai Airport!

So in an effort to comfort my longing for India, I've attempted to learn the art of chai making. It always amazes me that no two attempts yield the same results, and I guess this is one of the reasons why making tea is so interesting to me. Sometimes when I make it, the end result is, well, let's just say that my husband is nice enough to say it's good. It is a little odd how I go through phases of sometimes making good masala chai and other times which have been learning experiences. I've learned that it is not just about the proportion of spices that I add but it is also about timing: from the time of boiling the spices together, to how long you steep, to how long you reduce the milk...etc.

However, now, after numerous attempts (with a couple of forgettable tries earlier this month!), I think I've finally found the right balance of spices in making a wonderful cup to satisfy our tastes. Try it out, but keep in mind that you may need to make subtle adjustments to suit your own taste. Let me know what you think. =)

Spices (for about 3 decent-sized cups)
6-7 cardamom pods
1 heaping tablespoon of diced fresh ginger
3-4 cloves
3-4 peppercorns (or a little sprinkling of ground pepper to taste) Note: You might have to play with this one a bit until you find your own preferred amount of pepper.
Sprinkling of cinnamon
3/4 tablespoon of ginger powder
3/4 tablespoon of cardamom powder
1 teaspoon fennel powder

Combine all spices in 6 cups of water in a saucepan. My husband especially likes fresh ginger so I use quite a bit.

Bring to boil and then lower heat just slightly to a very high simmer for 7-10 minutes. This allows each spice to bloom, unfold and marinate together. The water and spice mixture will reduce nicely if you give it the time.

Stir just a couple times as the spices tend to float to the top. Breathe in the lovely aroma.

Now for the chai...I use tea bags, which of course have to be the Taj Mahal brand because we were so enchanted by the Taj Mahal on our second honeymoon. And we were lucky enough to stay in certain Taj Group hotel palaces through knowing people who know people.... (thanks if you're one of them reading this! :)

Lower the heat to medium high. I use 4 tea bags, but if you like your tea stronger, add another bag. Dip them in the simmering water pulling them up and down several times and enjoy watching the color change from a light brown to an orangish dark brown.
Then I cut the strings just below the paper and allow the bags to steep in the simmering mixture for about 4-5 minutes. Just be careful not to stir the tea too hard as the fragile bags can pop and then you have bits of tea leaves floating around in your tea. Not pleasant unless you strain the tea through cheesecloth.

Now, take the back of spoon and crush the cardamom pods against the side of the saucepan.

Add desired amount of sweetner. I use a heaping tablespoon of raw honey. Now give it a gentle stir as it dissolves into the simmering brew.

Once you've allowed the spices to infuse with the liquid, add 1 cup (or more) of milk. I use soy milk and it's perfectly fine, and the creamier the better.

Raise the heat to high. Enjoy watching the color change into that rich wonderful chai color. A creamy frothy layer will begin to form. Stay near the stove as once the chai boils with the milk, it will boil over the sides of the saucepan if you're not careful and then you have a real mess. I usually remove the tea bags before the milk boils. Because, the tea bags tend to explode if left in the violent boiling water too long (yeah, a mistake I've make all too often!).

Allow the chai to boil up to the top of the saucepan, and then remove the pan from the fire just before it boils over the sides. Return the pan to the fire again until the froth reaches the top and then remove again for a couple seconds. Repeat this about 5-10 times as this helps the chai reduce even more so the flavour and texture of the chai is more rich.
Strain into a mug. I will then pull out chunks of ginger from the strainer and put them into Mahesh's mug as he likes the crunch and spicy flavour of ginger as he sips...

....and enjoy!

Wild Wild West

2008-04-17T09:35:00.000+08:00

We recently visited Utah for my brother's wedding and basked in the crisp mountain air.
We rented a car and thoroughly enjoyed our freedom in the wide open spaces with grand vistas of the desert and snowcapped mountains.

It was kind of a treat having a car instead of relying on public transportation like we do in Manhattan. Mahesh got a kick out of the convenience of drive-through dining. It was also nice not having to get so bundled up whenever we went out as we parked close to our destination. Though it is also quite liberating not having a car with all the hassels of parking, maintenence, etc. I'm not sure which would be better.

Several years ago, I climbed the grand Mt. Timpanogas which peaks at 11,749 feet (3,582 m) above sea level. You really start to feel it at around 10,000 feet, and my lungs were struggling. Finally, after taking in the view from the top, we slid down a steep glacier, which was kind of scary but fun.

Of course we cannot leave Utah without visiting the architecturally stunning and historically famous Temple Square of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. The Salt Lake City Temple (one of 125 operating LDS temples across the globe), completed in April 1893, took 40 years to build. The dedication of the church members who built this masterpiece is evident in many ways. One interesting fact: each granite-like brick was brought individually by horse-drawn carriage from a canyon about 20 miles away until the train was built.

Bridal Veil Falls

On the winding way to Sundance, snow began to fall gently. I love the hush and stillness of falling snow flakes and I find the mood very relaxing.

We enjoyed lunch in this charming little log cabin that carried the clean aroma of cedar. We cuddled up on the cozy couch next to the crackling fireplace and daydreamed as we gazed out the window at the falling snow.

Balthazar

2008-04-07T08:02:00.000+08:00

Roasted Halibut

Over a bed of herb potatoes topped with a sweet and sour tomato sauce and blanched almonds

Okay, okay, so I know this isn't Indian, but I wanted to post about it anyway because I love to cook and enjoy trying out different recipes and then taking photos of my creations. And hey, isn't Pondicherry a French influenced seaside town in India that serves up quality bistro fare like this?

Last year, we recieved the famous Balthazar Cookbook for a wedding gift. As part of our secret wedding/elopement, we had a small dinner at Balthazar, here in New York City. The maitre'di surprised us with a copy of the book and a personal note from the authors. It was so wonderful and the recipes are truly divine and transport us back to that lovely and memorably day of ours.

This reminds me: after our wedding dinner, we decided to walk part of the way home as we were in a festive mood and it was a lovely and slightly cool evening in September. I was in my wedding dress and Mahesh was in his tux. It was fun to see how complete strangers passing by or rolling down taxi's windows reacted so positively and warmly to our dress and its significance.

Only in India

2008-03-31T02:45:00.000+08:00

One of our good friend's who lives in New Delhi sends us supplies from India every now and then. I get such a kick out of the packaging. Someone in his office actually sews a linen fabric around the package. For all my readers who live in India, is this commonly done? Can you imagine if anyone would take that kind of time here in the US?

We peal off multiple layers before we unveil our supplies.

another layer...

another layer...plus some rudimentary clear thin wrapping inside before we unearth our Indian "gems"

Again, yes, I'm easily amused by all things Indian. And I am constantly teased about it too. =)

The Sacred Cow

2008-03-24T01:01:00.000+08:00

Just outside the Taj Mahal

One day while browzing through a pile of chappals for just the right pair in the very colorful Bapu Baazar in Jaipur, I felt someone bump into me, which is not completely a surprise as those markets are quite crowded and lively. But I turned to look anyway because the bump lingered and then began to slide past my back. I nearly fell back when I saw this huge black bull with pointed horns and a large cow bell around his neck sliding past me. He leisurely walked on the sidewalk of the baazar as he probably thought the road would be too perilous with all the tuk-tuks and motorbikes whizzing by. He had a determined looked about him as if he owned that block.

A little while later, I was checking out some bangles and the same thing happened again. She was a smaller gray cow with big soft eyes. We exchanged glances as if literally bumping into each other at the bazaar was the most normal of daily occurances and then we went on our separate ways. Ok, I was getting used to this. She walked with purpose towards her destination as if she was late for an appointment; perhaps she was on her way to the popular chai stand around the corner. :)

In Samode Village, Rajasthan

I am struck by how cows are treated with respect and many roam the streets at liberty throughout India. In some cases, the village takes a collective ownership and responsibility for the cow's welfare. Some believe it is good luck to feed a cow a little snack, and I must say that I was tempted at times...

PBS wrote an interesting article discussing the cow population in Delhi. The 13 million+ residents share the streets with an estimated 40,000 cows. The government has hired "urban cowboys" to safely transport these cows to the suburbs as an alternative to putting reflectors or license plates on their tails. :)

On the road to Bharatpur, Rajasthan

In Hinduism, the cow is considered the human race's surrogate mother as after we are weaned from our own mother's milk, we are sustained by cows' milk for the remainder of our lives. This beautiful symbolic belief is one reason why milk is used in religious ceremonies.

Cows are considered sacred by many Hindus, and animal life in general is respected in India. In fact, cow slaughter is illegal in all of India except two provinces: West Bengal and Kerala. A large proportion of the population is vegetarian for humanitarian, religious and economic reasons. Perhaps this is why it is so easy to find so many delicious vegetarian options in India. America has some ways to go in this respect but seems to be heading in the right direction.

Hmmm, all this talk inspires me to make a nice Indian vegetarian meal tonight...

Happy Holi!

2008-03-22T23:39:00.000+08:00

Masala Chai

2008-03-17T09:17:00.000+08:00

Sunday Masala Chai for my very own Maharaja

*I finally perfected the recipe after a couple months of trial and error. Cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, fresh ginger, black pepper, fennel powder, soy, honey and black tea of course. It is really all about timing though...allowing each spice it's time to bloom.

*Oh...and I have a little sustenance for him too: An almond spelt cookie from Hawthorne Valley Farm, our weekly treat from the Green Market at Union Square.

The Palaces of Deeg

2008-03-10T10:33:00.000+08:00

*Secluded in a sleepy little town far off the tourist trail, the Palaces of Deeg offered the solace that we'd been craving. . .we pretty much had the entire palace to ourselves!

*A couple hours away from Bharatpur on small and sometimes bumpy roads, this special place is not easy to find, and our driver made several wrong turns. But I enjoyed getting lost as I was able to soak in the countryside and charming villages along the way.

*There was something so mystical about this area - a spirit that touched on all your senses, and then some.

*The sunlight radiated on the 250+ year old Mughal architectural wonder, gently touching each structure, tree and blade of grass like magic...I wonder if this is what heaven is like.

*There was something special about the sunlight here; this warm hazy glow that fell on everything. It was as if a cinematographer had used a ProMist filter to create that special pearlescent halo - what a dreamy look.

*Along with the cool crisp breeze, it provided us with a haven away from the chaos just outside.

*We had visited the famous Bird Sanctuary in Bharatpur earlier in the day (home to some 300+ species of migratory birds!) , but due to the drought the past few years, the birds have been giving the sanctuary a miss. Sad. We actually saw more birds at these palaces including these very vocal parakeets.

*At least 500 ancient fountains (some sources claim as high as 2000) connected with underground pipelines dotted the palace lot. They were originally built to provide air conditioning for the tenants. The mists would cool the area during the sweltering summer days.

*I've been learning how the majority of palace architecture in India takes temperature into consideration. The Jag Niwas palace (The Taj Lake Palace) is a good example, as it was built in conjunction with Lake Pichola so that the water currents that flow around the structure cool the palace.

*Apparently, it is quite rare when the fountains are turned on, but I was able to find this picture online that captured the moment. They'll fill these incredibly old tanks and turn them on usually during Brij Mahotsava, (a festival of colour, song, music and dance in Bharatpur in honour of Lord Krishna), which takes place around March, which is a few days before Holi. Sometimes they'll put bags of colored powder within the pipes so the fountains will spray out different colored water. Hmmm, I guess this is the perfect excuse for needing to make another visit here. :)

*Local children who had been playing with their cute puppies in the gardens pose for the camera.

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*Steps leading down to the water that surrounded the palaces show their age. I wonder all the stories these steps could tell...

Pathways here, there, everywhere.

*I wandered through the empty ruins in awe - no entrance or gateway was roped off so I explored this labyrinth-like playground as much as my hearts content...each pathway led to some other pathway, rooftop, temple or secret room.

*My footsteps echoed in rthymn with the parakeet calls as I walked through some of the enclosed hallways. It was almost eerie how not too many people were around - but at the same time, I completely loved the seclusion of it all.

*After my curiousity had been satisfied, I went to find my husband, who was basking in the warm sunrays in the beautifully landscaped gardens.

The fountains...

The sunlight...

The crisp clean air...

The peace...

The magnificant gardens...

...a special place I will cherish in my memory forever.

Sindhi Comfort Food

2008-03-03T09:14:00.000+08:00

* Tuesday Night at the Melwani Residence
* Rain gently coming down
* Need...comfort...food
* A tasty Sindhi Besan Curry from Camellia Panjabi’s “50 Great Curries of India” will hit the spot.

*Veggie delight

* Sour, fragrant, and sweet with a slight spicy-hot bite
* The rich and full flavor of gram flour marinated with the fragrant earthy kick of fresh curry leaves really makes this dish
* Thin consistency, like dal or soup, just add a little bit of basmati rice and yum...

* My husband is Sindhi and has fond memories of eating this comfort home-cooked dish for Sunday brunch with his family. When it comes to Indian food, he is ALL Indian (but that is just about the only time... =)

* After our feast, we cuddle up together on the couch with a healthy portion of Mithai (Indian sweets)...along with our newly discovered interest - the Travel Channel.

Road to Bharatpur

2008-02-25T07:44:00.000+08:00

Our off-the-beaten-track through Indian country-side road trip splendidly captured the real India that I had been craving to see.

But first, we spent a week in Mumbai for my husband's cousin's massive wedding, full of chaos--late nights of family bonding with scores of aunties, uncles and cousins, fine dining, sari&lengha fittings, ceremonies and pooja's, not to mention adjusting to jet lag, and never having time to leave the hotel...ever...to even SEE the city except from my 21st floor hotel room. I did enjoy bonding with my new dad and his wife.

(Such is the case for NRI's and their American wives at these sorts of family affairs, so I'm learning.) I barely experienced Mumbai, but one day will......so after all the exhaustion, this country scene on the way to Bharatpur was refreshingly relaxing.

The gleaming yellow of the mustard fields dotted with the surprise of the occassional farmer popping up from in between the stalks in a brightly colored sari was like a dream.

The pace of life outside of the major cities is contagiously serene. Ummm, remind me why I live in New York?
Ok, so call me easily amused, but I do find it amazing the things people can balance on their heads.

I was dying to trying one of these - whatever they are - they were selling them everywhere.

I was so curious about these women. I was tempted to get out of the car and join them in the daily gossip.

The children were as curious of me as I was of them. Many of them in the tiny villages outside of the major cities would often just want to practice their English. "Haaaalllooww. What is your name?" smile smile smile..... I welcomed this sweetness as in the cities, we were often pummelled with begging children - difficult to resist, I know.

Just in case you were wondering...yes, I have a little love affair with India. :)

Sweet Lap of Luxury

2008-02-18T12:45:00.000+08:00

* A warm and genuine feeling of heritage and peace from the charming city of Udaipur
* Delicate chinabowl filled with warm water and floating fragrant rose petals to freshen up those fingertips before biting into the sweet crunchy apples

* Our cruise-ship-like-room overlooking the grandeur of The City Palace.

* At 6am each morning, the haunting echos of chants and poojas from a nearby Hindu temple glide across Lake Pichola. I sat up in bed straining to hear - I was so intriqued! My Indian husband, on the other hand, completely annoyed about having been awoken from his slumber, retreated under his pillow.

* Intricately designed antique furniture and detailed fresco's on the walls took us back in time to the days of the Maharanas

* The Angelic Kathak Dancer sent us into a trance with her hypnotic movements and flirty expressions - she was really an angel.

2008-02-18T12:00:00.000+08:00

* A New Day...