I have always wondered why has cricket become religion in India. I was a cricket fanatic just like millions of other indians like me. But what extent do we take a sport to. Recent incidents of how the Hockey players were shunned by the media is so shameful to an extent that it become ridicule. The players had to go on a hunger just to get the recognition that they very much deserved.
http://sports.indiatimes.com/articleshow/2404611.cms
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
India Calling
With my "short story" half way down and my recent India trip beginning to become a much treasured memory, I miss my homeland more than ever.
During my past visits to India, Hyderabad airport seemed to me more beaten up one of the most ghetto areas we see in the US. Somehow, this time that feeling never surfaced, may be because it was 3 o'clock in the morning or may be because ours was the only flight coming into the airport that time. My home city Hyderabad was actually built to handle about 6-7 flights a day but now takes in more than 40 flights a day, Thanks to the increasing numbers of Hyderabadis migrating overseas. This much similar to the city which now is firing its way to be the software capital of the country, and providing shelter to many a software engineer in the nation. I knew this visit had to be something different but an idealogy metamorphism was unknown to me. Once in the line to the customs officer, I chatted with few ladies from Detroit, who were visiting a friend in the city. After few minutes of chat, I was faced with a question which never seemed to be that difficult before, she asked
"What do you miss the most in India other than your parents". I was dumbstruck for a while: what was wrong with me , I didn't have answer when someone asks me what I missed in my homeland. Sensing my discomfort she helped me with an answer that came in the form of a question.. "Has it been really long?". I nodded my head, five years in a land far far away did seem long enough at that moment.
Once near the baggage claim area, I saw people musing over the way no one was unsure which belt the bags from our flight were coming, "welcome home" I heard someone say. Somehow I was at much ease than ever before, neither was I ashamed at the lack of facilities nor was I amused when I saw an attendant stand on a pedestal and announce that our bags were coming on belt 2. I felt bad for the people around me who suddenly felt that there were in a never land.
Collected my bags and barged out to meet my parents and niece, my little niece was awake all night just to receive me in the airport, my mother; person whom I look up to , someone who was and is my idol all way through, and my dad; who sacrificed a lot in his personal life just to give us a better life. I hugged my mom who burst into tears, kept saying "I missed you". I wanted to tell her how much I missed her all of a sudden I felt short of words. Once home I sat with her till 8am in the morning talking gibberish, silly and unimportant things, I hoped she realised how much I missed her.
My stay in my home was like dream that I always wanted to realise. My niece and I had a wonderful time, I took her around to the most of the places that I used to take her when I was living in India. My eight year old niece has always been the apple of my eye. I missed her the most when I came to this country, I remember crying when she refused to talk to me as she was upset about me leaving India at that time. I spent a great deal of time with my parents unusual to my previous visits, as I always remained engrossed with my friends and trying to catch up others. I realized that my parents were no longer the same, they looked lonely and age was indeed catching up with them. My mother made futile attempts at providing me the best food ever, she sensed that I was trying to make myself a good cook, I kept telling her just me your signature fried chicken, that will make my day. Thanks to Lord she made me the best Fish curry on the last day of my vacation, I miss her so much. We went out shopping, movies, baked cakes, made Thai noodles it was such a wonderful feeling. My eldest sister and I arranged a small party for their 35th wedding anniversary, I was happy to see my dad and mom really happy. I always wanted them to feel proud of me, they thought that I will be their most successful daughter, I don't know how far have I come in that tangent.
My sister took us out for lunch to a place that excelled in our native place(Rayalaseema a region in Andhra Pradesh, where my parents belonged) food. The fiery taste of the food there had me in tears. The food there was simple but the being in the company of my family was a moment to treasure.
At my port of entry "Detroit" the immigration officer welcomes the US citizens with a broad smile and welcoming them to the New World. Come my turn he scrutinizes my face, checks the documents umpteen times, after countless futile attempts to invalidate my arrival into country he finally lets me in. I ask myself why am I here, when I am so unwanted.
Now, that I am back to life the routine stereotypical lifestyle that most of us in the US of the A lead. Work, work out, eat, party, save money and sleep, and so life goes on in a methodical and orderly way. We have few friends that we hang out with, talk to or laugh with, still by the end of the day we are back to the lonely lives. Life back home may be haphazard or disoriented, where people bump into each other , motorbike rams directly into your car and you hear your automobile screech, you shout at each other and move on. I know that going back will bring in its wake many problems, I know that my parents and friends will not stay with me forever, I know that there is no value for life, I know that the work culture will engulf one voiding them of family life. All these cons surface as such minuscule factors before a simple fact - happier life. I have known few people here who feel that they don't have enough opportunities just because of their race, they have no where to go because this is where they belong. I still ask myself and still search for an answer for "What I am doing here when I have a Land of my own".
During my past visits to India, Hyderabad airport seemed to me more beaten up one of the most ghetto areas we see in the US. Somehow, this time that feeling never surfaced, may be because it was 3 o'clock in the morning or may be because ours was the only flight coming into the airport that time. My home city Hyderabad was actually built to handle about 6-7 flights a day but now takes in more than 40 flights a day, Thanks to the increasing numbers of Hyderabadis migrating overseas. This much similar to the city which now is firing its way to be the software capital of the country, and providing shelter to many a software engineer in the nation. I knew this visit had to be something different but an idealogy metamorphism was unknown to me. Once in the line to the customs officer, I chatted with few ladies from Detroit, who were visiting a friend in the city. After few minutes of chat, I was faced with a question which never seemed to be that difficult before, she asked
"What do you miss the most in India other than your parents". I was dumbstruck for a while: what was wrong with me , I didn't have answer when someone asks me what I missed in my homeland. Sensing my discomfort she helped me with an answer that came in the form of a question.. "Has it been really long?". I nodded my head, five years in a land far far away did seem long enough at that moment.
Once near the baggage claim area, I saw people musing over the way no one was unsure which belt the bags from our flight were coming, "welcome home" I heard someone say. Somehow I was at much ease than ever before, neither was I ashamed at the lack of facilities nor was I amused when I saw an attendant stand on a pedestal and announce that our bags were coming on belt 2. I felt bad for the people around me who suddenly felt that there were in a never land.
Collected my bags and barged out to meet my parents and niece, my little niece was awake all night just to receive me in the airport, my mother; person whom I look up to , someone who was and is my idol all way through, and my dad; who sacrificed a lot in his personal life just to give us a better life. I hugged my mom who burst into tears, kept saying "I missed you". I wanted to tell her how much I missed her all of a sudden I felt short of words. Once home I sat with her till 8am in the morning talking gibberish, silly and unimportant things, I hoped she realised how much I missed her.
My stay in my home was like dream that I always wanted to realise. My niece and I had a wonderful time, I took her around to the most of the places that I used to take her when I was living in India. My eight year old niece has always been the apple of my eye. I missed her the most when I came to this country, I remember crying when she refused to talk to me as she was upset about me leaving India at that time. I spent a great deal of time with my parents unusual to my previous visits, as I always remained engrossed with my friends and trying to catch up others. I realized that my parents were no longer the same, they looked lonely and age was indeed catching up with them. My mother made futile attempts at providing me the best food ever, she sensed that I was trying to make myself a good cook, I kept telling her just me your signature fried chicken, that will make my day. Thanks to Lord she made me the best Fish curry on the last day of my vacation, I miss her so much. We went out shopping, movies, baked cakes, made Thai noodles it was such a wonderful feeling. My eldest sister and I arranged a small party for their 35th wedding anniversary, I was happy to see my dad and mom really happy. I always wanted them to feel proud of me, they thought that I will be their most successful daughter, I don't know how far have I come in that tangent.
My sister took us out for lunch to a place that excelled in our native place(Rayalaseema a region in Andhra Pradesh, where my parents belonged) food. The fiery taste of the food there had me in tears. The food there was simple but the being in the company of my family was a moment to treasure.
At my port of entry "Detroit" the immigration officer welcomes the US citizens with a broad smile and welcoming them to the New World. Come my turn he scrutinizes my face, checks the documents umpteen times, after countless futile attempts to invalidate my arrival into country he finally lets me in. I ask myself why am I here, when I am so unwanted.
Now, that I am back to life the routine stereotypical lifestyle that most of us in the US of the A lead. Work, work out, eat, party, save money and sleep, and so life goes on in a methodical and orderly way. We have few friends that we hang out with, talk to or laugh with, still by the end of the day we are back to the lonely lives. Life back home may be haphazard or disoriented, where people bump into each other , motorbike rams directly into your car and you hear your automobile screech, you shout at each other and move on. I know that going back will bring in its wake many problems, I know that my parents and friends will not stay with me forever, I know that there is no value for life, I know that the work culture will engulf one voiding them of family life. All these cons surface as such minuscule factors before a simple fact - happier life. I have known few people here who feel that they don't have enough opportunities just because of their race, they have no where to go because this is where they belong. I still ask myself and still search for an answer for "What I am doing here when I have a Land of my own".
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