India needs a grand Museum of Anthropology like the one in Mexico City (US too!)

Mexico

In March 2023, I went to Mexico City as a tourist. It was my first visit to my neighboring country (not counting short trips to Tijuana), and I was super impressed with their history and culture. It was in stark contrast to the history I find in the US, which is only from the time the "white fella" arrived, as if this country was virgin uninhabited land with no history or culture before the "fair Christians" came from Europe and tamed it. That is really sad. So much wisdom is being missed out by the US citizens.

In Mexico City, there are many great things to see, the best of the lot that had me mesmerized was their National Museum of Anthropology. The museum has exhibits from the beginning of human existence in their country to the current date. It is an U shaped museum with two floors packed with exhibits and information. I only had half a day to spend there due to our tight schedule and plans for the rest of the day (I was traveling with a friend, I could not just ditch the other plans), so I breezed through the museum. On my next trip, I will visit the museum again and spend a whole day or two, for it was that amazing, and left me with the desire to absorb more.

In brief, this museum was built in 1964, and is located in Chapultepec Park in Mexico City. It displays the archeological and ethnographic heritage of the country for Mexicans and foreigners like me. Of particular interest to me in this museum was the aesthetic and technical quality achieved by pre-Hispanic cultures as well as the distinguishing characteristics that helped identify (and differentiate) the indigenous peoples scattered all over the country. These indigenous people, even to this day, produce extraordinary works of folk art which are proudly on display. There are 12 Archeology halls on the lower floor, with Ethnology rooms above. They show the entire evolution of life on earth, from the first creatures living in the sea to the modern human. The collections include maps, village/ town/ city layouts, food crops, burial customs, pottery, metalwork, stone carvings, calendar systems, scripts, trade manifests, folk medicine, etc. Quite a bit of the story is told by huge murals on the walls of the museum, along with the artifacts from the key societies like, Pre-Classic (2500 - 100BC), Teotihuacan (100 BC - 700 AD), Toltec (750 - 1200 AD), Mexica (1300 - 1521 AD), Zapotec and Mixtec of Oaxaca (from before 1000 BC to European conquest), Olmec on the Gulf Coast (1200 - 600 BC), other local cultures from 600 BC to 900 AD up to Huastec culture till 1521. The room dedicated to Maya culture is superb, this culture developed over a period of 1000 BC to 1521 AD, and some of their planned city-states are even active today! The Northern Mexico room covered the enormous arid regions showing how the people there adapted to the harsh surroundings, and also the agricultural achievements of Guanajuato, San Luis Potosi, Paquime/ Casas Grandes. The Western Mexico room had the cultures from 800 BC to 200 AD, including the Capacha and Chupicuaro cultures. Of course, post 1521, after the Spanish colonization, there is a fair bit of history too, which being more recent, has more in depth coverage. The Spanish were there for about 300 years, and Mexico got independence from Spanish in 1821, and then in 1910 they had their internal Mexican Revolution which established the current Mexico state.

Yes, I gathered all this from one 4-hour fast paced visit. Imagine how much I could glean if I spent a whole day or two!!! I am so eager to do that again. I am still fascinated by the fabulous storytelling in that museum and the artifacts in display. I will highly recommend a visit to this museum, and may you take enough time to absorb all the juice there is.

India

As I was walking around this museum with my travel companion, who is also of Indian origin, we couldn't help but keep commenting that we needed a similar museum in India. There is so much to show! Sure, we have a long list of museums in each state, with the Indian Museum in Kolkata and the National Museum in Delhi being purported as the national showcase of Indian history and culture. My companion and I had been to both these museums and to quite a few on the state list. Both of us felt that while the artifacts were probably adequate to begin with, the storytelling and information displays were dismal. We remembered how disappointed we were when we had visited these buildings that were so badly maintained, with dilapidated structure often crumbling, having cobwebs and dirt, unclean and broken showcases, very poorly lit, and had many incorrect signs. We discussed at length why it was so. Several excuses floated up - these museums were not properly funded, work ethics of government employees being poor, lack of good leadership, no training, pervasive general apathy of the Indian citizens, etc. We also tried to reason - Well, Mexico had about 200 years of independence from their colonial overlords, so they had more time to put their history and culture together as an item of national pride. India has not yet had 100 years of "freedom". Indian history, even now, is still worded with a strong colonial era wash that accentuates the cultural, moral, and ideological superiority of the "white fella". But then, the intellectual wealth and the educational savviness of the Indian people is no less than that of the Mexicans. After all, India has been the back office service center for the entire world for several decades now and has built up a substantial roster of skills. There is money. There is the education and ability in house. The only conclusion we were left with was that the pride in "whole history" has not settled in the Indian zeitgeist yet. In some way they are still revolting against the British, yet still using the very same words and practices that they so proclaim to detest.

These days, for a personal project of mine, I find myself "going down the rabbit hole" in reading about ancient India (before 200 BC), in light of newer findings by DNA mapping, remote sensing, ground penetrating radars, etc., used for archeological purposes. My 10th grade history textbooks from 30+years back had framed my ancient world/India view, and now it is getting thoroughly revised. I'm fascinated as I read new research covering that particular period of history. Especially after I found out that they have definitively located the old legendary Saraswati River, the whole of it, from the Himalayas to the delta, which was lost due to climate change?! I remember my grandfather telling me stories from the Puranas, Panchatantra, and the great epics that mention the river, and I had always wondered how a grand river like that can one day just disappear, to remain only in legends and myths. I also learned during my research that modern DNA mapping has found that some tribes in India are more closely related to the aboriginal people in Australia than to the folks in their neighboring city! How cool is that!

I am very happy to find "new" historians starting to bring these discoveries up to the top and are writing pretty good narratives, so the storytelling is getting polished as well.  On my last trip to India, I had bought this book called Land of the Seven Rivers: A Brief History of India's Geography by Sanjeev Sanyal. I really liked reading the way he framed the key events during the era of my current interest - Harrapan/ Indus civilization through Vedic to Maurya age. I am eager to read more. I have borrowed almost all the history books on India that are available in San Diego's Libraries, and am going through them systematically. Some of these books have been written post 1991 (when I last read history!), but most of the information seems to still be from the old texts, not updated with findings from the new research. I remain insatiably curious and will keep reading. I am eagerly awaiting William Dalrymple's new book The Golden Road: How Ancient India Transformed the World. That book will not be available in the US until Summer 2025, which is a shame! How I wish I could lay my hands on it earlier.

Here is my wish for India's Grand National Anthropology Museum. I hope they build one similar to the one in Mexico. I'd like it to be in a new structure, maybe modeled using the principles of Vastu Shastra. I am sure we can find some engaged and enthused architect in India who can make this happen. And like Mexico's museum, I'd like to see rooms covering each era of Indian history from the pre-historic times, through modern times. It is important to showcase the advanced technical prowess and the rich cultural heritage of each era. India gave the world numbers, particularly the ZERO, without which the modern market of dollars and electronic trades would not have happened. We would still have been trying to multiply LCXIV with MLCXV and be utterly confused. (I am joking, of course!) These numbers went from India to the Muslim/ Mediterranean world, and then on to the "white fella" world where these numbers were posited as Arabic numerals. There was sea trade happening in aplomb using the great natural monsoon bellow effect that pushed the sails back and forth in both directions on the Indian Ocean - eastward to Indonesia and westward to the Red Sea ports. This allowed pepper to reach beyond the Indian shores and spice up the rest of the world! So much so that in European conquests, the main exchange of wealth was once in pepper. There is great opportunity for storytelling here. I sure hope some good writers from our grand Bollywood storytelling machine will participate in this effort to shape the narrative such that it excites the visiting public. Let's face it, if we leave the information panels and displays to academics, they will turn out to be monotonous, drab, and boring, and make people run away after the first 10 minutes. That is one of the reasons the current museums are unattended and uninspiring. The curators of these museums are very good researchers maybe, they are definitely not good storytellers. India has the skills and technical ability to do very innovative displays, maybe use 3D immersive visualization and narration to excite the audience. The government has the money to make this happen. And why just the government, some of the richest people on earth are of Indian heritage. (Don't look at me, I am not rich by any measure.) Can't they set up a fund to do this work? Well, a girl can hope!!

United States of America

As for my adopted country, the great United States of America, "the land of the free and the home of the brave", I would like to see a grand museum of anthropology here too. I did not grow up here, so I did not go to K-12 school here, neither did I have kids through whom I could see and understand the history and culture curriculum. I have, however, interviewed many of my US-born friends on this topic. I have unfortunately found that their knowledge of US history, if at all, starts from the early 1600s, when the colonial era was being established in the US. So, from the first peoples arriving in 15,000 BC to about 1600AD, that is over FIFTEEN THOUSAND years of history not taught to nor appreciated by the American Youth. I find this unspeakably sad. When huge civilizations were being established all over the world, and it is well known that there was active trade and transfer of ideas, I am sure there was development here in the US landmass too and exchange of ideas was happening as well. Yes, way before a very disoriented Columbus thought that this continent was India! Unfortunately, there is no concerted effort among US historians and government to find that information and then share it with the world. Mexico has gone back and found their pre-historic and pre-columbian history and proudly display those riches. They are not even as wealthy as the US! One often wonders why the "common man" here has such a severe "island mentality", and has a particular distrust, even disgust, for anyone with a different skin color or culture. I posit that if the US K-12 curriculum stressed EQUALLY on the pre-1600AD history and post 1600AD history, the citizens of this country will grow to be a tad bit more appreciative of views of other people and not be so self-centered. Much of the pains of division and strife that we see in the political sphere today can be mitigated to a large extent when the education is in line with a whole-earth mentality and not constantly reinforcing the island mentality. I am asking for the TONE of education to change, along with the content.

From the beginning of time, as soon as the human-being was able to walk, they started establishing settlements, and then civilizations along the great river systems of the world. For example, just to name a few - Nile, Zambezi, Niger, Congo in Africa; Danube, Rhine in Europe; Volga, Yangtze, Mekong, Irrawaddy, Ganges, Indus, Brahmaputra in Asia; Amazon in South America; Murray, Darling in Australia, even the Rio Grande in Mexico - they all have some history of settlements and stories that go back to ancient times. The Tigris-Euphrates river system in West Asia supported the great Mesopotamian civilization, which was purported as one of the oldest civilizations, but now, with the advent of advanced technologies applied to archeology, there are a few others vying for "The Oldest Civilization" title. I often wonder why Mississippi and Missouri, two of the world's largest rivers do not have ANY recorded civilizations. How can that be? It seems improbable. Most folks I have talked to here (no, not academics in anthropology) either confessed ignorance or dismissed the pre-1600AD indigenous peoples of this land as heathen uncivilized hunter-gatherers of no consequence in the history of the world. Such a characterization reeks of the colonial/class discriminatory mindset, and is shameful. I sincerely hope and wish that the people with the power to change education in this country will put some effort in revising the history and culture curriculum. And then a grand museum of anthropology on the National Mall in DC would be really awesome - one that tells the story from the beginning of time to this day, giving equal weightage to every wave of change in the human history and culture here on this continent. I am sorry, the National Museum of American History is not adequate. Neither are the collections at the National Museum of Natural History. A lot more effort is needed. While this country prides itself with the label "melting pot", the underlying ethos is still very much equal but separate. And this applies to not just white and black skin colors, but also the various shades of brown and yellow.  Sure, there are anthropology museums in the country, but most of them are in universities and cater to limited number of people who study there or visit those campuses. The "common man" does not have any knowledge of those museums and their contents, nor have developed any interest, and unfortunately knows Anthropology only as the fancy garment retail store Anthropologie in their sparkling malls.

The Right Time?

If I were to do it again, i.e., start college again, and not have the huge burden I had then at that tender age of 17, I would have not changed from Physics major to Engineering, and I would have charted the course of my career very differently. But I did not have the wherewithal to follow my dreams at that time; I can't even say I had zero support, I had in fact an excessive emotional mountain bearing on against my dreams, with no financial help whatsoever, and no mentor or guide; it was very hard. I felt so alone and distraught, that after seven months of trying to "fight the system", I had to give in to the pressure. Today I am in a great place. Granted I am not in the top 1% in financial wealth nor writing books/ doing the speech circuits, etc., it is not because I cannot do all that, it is because I know that those will not bring me lasting contentment. I am perfectly happy running my own small practice and experiencing the small joys of my day to day life, which leaves me much space and peace to contemplate and meditate. At 17 this would not have charted this path. But this is where I am today, life made it's own path and it is one-way.

I find myself in a position to mentor young minds these days. I will say I enjoy it. It gives me tremendous sense of satisfaction to be able to be the guide I did not have when I was in their age.

What I look for in each kid is that sparkle of excitement in their eyes with which they will proclaim - "No matter what, I will blast off! No one can stop me! Here is what I have planned! This is my trajectory for now! I reserve the right to change my trajectory when new information presents itself. And I will prevail, no matter what hurdles come my way!" Why? I had that fire in me at that age, even though it was smothered at that time, it was smoldering in me for several decades till it found the right amount of fuel and oxygen to grow. I do not want these kids to smolder like I did, I want to encourage that fire to rage, now, today.

This song by Ural Thomas & The Pain, The Right Time, Smoldering Fire, kind of says my feelings well.

https://youtu.be/nYRFVr5yCz8

I often wonder why this song is not famous. The vocals are so rich, sounds scintillating, and the heady storytelling leads to a crescendo. I know it is themed as a romantic song, but I see it in a different light. I see it an ode to realizing ones potential in life. The singer here is the catalyst in the process of transformation, the smoldering fire was always there ready to go ablaze. Sometimes there is a short lived catalyst needed to get the reaction going. And here the catalyst is saying how fulfilled he feels to be in that role. That is how nourished I feel when I can be a catalyst in the transformation of young minds. It gives me joy that is hard to explain in material terms.

What I usually impress on my mentees is that the world you are going to enter is 1,000+% different from what your dad, your mum, or me had maneuvered. Even if we try to equip you with the best knowledge and skills and “tricks” that worked for us, it will not even scratch the surface of what you need to build your house. We are all useless to you, except that we can give you unconditional love. Nothing more. But you know what, that unconditional love is what is most lacking in most people. That is the catalyst, the oxygen, for the smoldering fire to go ablaze. It is a great blessing to people like me to be in this position to give you that. To believe in your dreams and to believe in your potential. Hold your hand when the going gets a bit shaky, and it will, undoubtedly.

I also get a bit concerned when I do not see in them the unbridled curiosity about the world and the restlessness to figure it out. That really worries me. Sometimes I cannot smell the smoldering fire. Often I see anger, I see frustration, I see anxiety; all these are part of restlessness that is needed, but not enough. This anger/ frustration/anxiety need to fuel in them this irrepressible can-do and will-do attitude, like a space rocket that will blast off the planet leaving gravity behind. When I do not see that in the kids, it worries me. Very much.

No one can give them that fuel. No one can give them the thrusts and boosters. No one can even give them the trajectory. They have to devise it themselves. It will have to come from inside. A burn to blast off to the universe.

I eagerly wait to see that sparkle of excitement in their eyes with which they will proclaim that - No matter what, I will blast off! No one can stop me! Here is what I have planned! This is my trajectory for now! I reserve the right to change my trajectory when new information presents itself. And I will prevail, no matter what hurdles come my way.

Being Bold, Being Active

 I feel very good that not too many people read this blog. Ha!

Because I feel the urge to make a public commitment, but then I am also quite nervous to let all my  friends and family know. So, this is a pseudo proclamation. No one will read it, but I can still tell my heart that I did make a public resolution.

I am starting to actively workout again!!

Tasmania, my paradise on earth

Wow! That's a big one for me.

When I was in Perth, Australia, I was about 33, and in the best physical form of my life. My body fat was about 17% and no matter what I wore, it looked good. And I was strong, I had good quality muscle. I had a great routine to work out regularly, and also used to easily run for 10 miles with no issues. I loved running. I also loved working out in the weight room. I had a very good schedule and it made me feel good.
Then I moved back to the US, had a back injury while lifting something heavy up the stairs, and it totally up-ended my fitness. I was barely able to sit or stand or walk for long, working out at a gym was beyond question. It took about three years of physiotherapy (useless), epidurals (short term relief), and then aqua therapy (this one worked!). I was almost ready to take up fitness again, but then I was hit by a series of personal challenges - near-death car accident, death of a parent where I was the primary caregiver for four months, slow disintegration of marriage and feeling helpless, divorce, financial insecurity, cancer scare, two serious operations, family issue.... need I say more. All this I survived, and lasted over seven years, and it was not easy. I managed to keep my professional life intact, and tried to keep afloat on the personal side but barely, and frequently sliding into depression. Other health issues cropped up and I did not know how to deal with it. The doctors had no answers, except testing and testing.

Anyway, since that "perfect" time at 33, over the last 12 years, I have added almost 50 lbs. The weight did not arrive suddenly, it was a slow creep. It was like 4 - 5 oz increase a month, and I could see the scale up by a pound every three to four months. But that gradual increase kept going, and my clothes started getting tighter and sizes getting higher. From a 2, I went up to a 10. And I felt miserable for it.

Why didn't I do anything? Quite frankly, I did not have the bandwidth in my life to take care of it. I was depressed, I had to look after my professional and financial situation first. Whatever little time I had left, I used to lie like a cocoon. Yes, I know, it was terrible.

But things have changed in the last few months. After a series of medical appointments, I think I now have the right medications in place. My professional life and financial life is on track and moving at a good speed. I have the bandwidth available to focus on my health now. I want to get back to my old fitness level, adjusted, of course, to the fact that I am now 12 years older. The most important thing is that my life has space and time and effort available right now to invest in this endeavor.

So what is the plan?

I have joined Planet Fitness. A dear friend recommended it to me as a low cost, low pressure alternative. I went and looked around two gyms, deciding to join one that was really well equipped. I really do not need classes, for I already know the basics. My challenge has never been about technique or motivation; it was always about fitting in a workout schedule that I could follow consistently. So, I am starting the journey this week. 

My goal is to lose the 50 lbs of fat I am carrying and then some, and build the muscle mass back up. Also, I want to increase my cardio fitness. I want to be running again. In 2006 I had run the Chicago Marathon, I want to be able to run a marathon again. If I am able to do that, I will know that I have built up my cardio fitness back. In 2006, I was able to run a marathon in around 4 hours, I would like to be able to run making similar time, even a 4.5 hour marathon will be acceptable to me.  As for fitness, I want to have the body fat down to about 20%. I do not think I will be able to get down to the 17% I used to have, I will be perfectly satisfied with 20%. And with that I want my muscles toned and strong. I want to work out with the weights again, it was so fun and I remember it!

Here's my plan:

Monday - Wednesday - Friday -I will follow this pattern -

Week 1 - Jog 1 min/ Walk 4 min  x 6 = total 30 mins
Week 2 - Jog 2 min/ Walk 3 min  x 6 = total 30 mins
Week 3 - Jog 3 min/ Walk 1 min  x 6 = total 30 mins
Week 4 - Jog 4 min/ Walk 1 min  x 6 = total 30 mins

Week 5 - Jog 6 min/ Walk 4 min  x 4 = total 40 mins
Week 6 - Jog 7 min/ Walk 3 min  x 4 = total 40 mins
Week 7 - Jog 8 min/ Walk 2 min  x 4 = total 40 mins

Week 8 - Jog 12 min/ Walk 3 min  x 3 = total 45 mins
Week 9 - Jog 13 min/ Walk 2 min  x 3 = total 45 mins
Week 10 - Jog 14 min/ Walk 1 min  x 3 = total 45 mins

Week 11 - Jog 17 min/ Walk 3 min  x 3 = total 60 mins
Week 12 - Jog 19 min/ Walk 1 min  x 3 = total 60 mins
Week 13 - Jog 60 mins

As I started this week, by December 30th, I should be able to be running for 60 minutes straight. That is a lovely achievement to look forward to.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I will just do some simple upper body and lower body workouts - easy reps, low weights. Not so much to build anything, just to start getting used to going to the gym on a regular basis and getting re-acquainted with the free weights and machines. I do not want to break sweat and try anything hard on these days. My focus for next 13 weeks is to build up the cardio strength and be able to jog comfortably, without any injury. Especially because my  back can give out again - I want to be very gentle and do not want to do anything that can jeopardize the progress.

I will NOT give myself a time goal for weight reduction. I know that the fat will melt on its own schedule. As my mobility increases and I get more agile, everything else will fall into place. Also, to lose the fat, diet is very important and I need to focus on that as well.

As I have made aerobic work my key focus for the rest of the year, I need to set my workout range as well. I am 45, so my MAX HR is (220 - 45=) 175 bpm. Now, the Max aerobic (injury free) limit is 180, so my MAX AEROBIC HR is (180 - 45=) 135 bpm. And because I am starting from a really poor condition, and a bad back, I am going to not run above 130 bpm. I am giving myself a 5 bpm reduced goal.

This feels really low. And based on on the practice I did today, because my aerobic situation is so poor, I reach 130 very easily! I will have to jog really slow, like fast walking pace to maintain 130. But you know what, I will NOT train harder. I need to resist the urge to push myself and take this slow. There is really no hurry. It took me 12 years to gain 50 lbs and lose my fitness, I need to build it back up slowly.

There it is! My Goal - BE ABLE TO RUN FOR 60 MINS BY DECEMBER 2021.

Idling

Last weekend, on Sunday I did a one-day Vipassana self-course. It was a blissful experience. Even though I had my dogs with me, I meditated for ten hours, and it was an "abiding in peace" experience. My mind settled to this very joyful space of stillness and quiet pleasure. They say it is called "piti", I was so grateful to have been able to experience it.

And then came Monday. I really did not feel like getting to work. My workload is kind of light these days, so with no burning deadline, I didn't feel the urgency to focus and go into the deep-work state. So I kept doing light work all day, miscellaneous administrative stuff that the business needs done, but nothing substantial to show. By the time Tuesday rolled in, I was checking emails but realized I really did not want to get deeper into work. I was feeling guilty (Damn, you old habit pattern!!), and that's not a joyful space. Later that night, I decided I am going to experiment Idling for the rest of the week.

A dear friend often comments about me - "Whatever I see you do, I see you do with full might!" Ha! So I thought if I am to Idle, I am going to prove his observation right and see how I can excel in Idling.

How does one Idle for a whole week and be good at it?

How much Idle is good for you, and where is the limit?

Can I get bored of Idling?

What is the difference between Laziness and Idling? 

From Wednesday to Friday, I spent Idling - all three long days. My two dogs were my inspiration - how they sleep, get up, shake, drink water, walk around, then bundle up for a snooze again!

All my working life, which is not over 22 years, I have been an Energizer Bunny. Very busy, always on projects, to-do lists, and in motion. When I did not have anything, I made it a point to find something to do. Since 2010, I have been going on 10-day silent vipassana retreats, at least two a year, but even for those, there is a routine, there is a task to be done - meditation. That has usually been my life - always busy, even when I am making fun, it is busy-fun.

After I moved to San Diego in 2009, I started taking a day "off" every quarter or so. Usually it used to be a Saturday, and scheduled. I would get up when I felt like it, and make myself a big pot of khichdi (porridge). Then I'd have that for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And for the rest of the day, just lie in bed reading or napping, or on the sofa, watching some mindless TV and napping. The resting and sleeping took precedence over reading or finishing a program. My husband used to call me "vegetable"! But you know what? It would charge me up! From the next day, I'd be refreshed and ready, back being the usual Energizer Bunny. But since 2014 or so, I had stopped doing these recharge days.

So was being a vegetable being lazy? I feel that it is lazy when you really do not want to put in the work. When you don't care enough. It is not circumstantial. Me watching Netflix is lazy? Or not wanting to do work is lazy? If it is a repetitive pattern of inaction and procrastination, then maybe it is. I think everyone has their own threshold of laziness. If my husband didn't put the coffee cup in the sink and left it next to the sink, or put the dirty laundry in the vicinity of the laundry room but not in the laundry basket, I think it was lazy. There was an intent of not finishing the task. But you are allowed to take time off - and rest, and clear your mind and body of all kinds of tightness and fatigue. That is not lazy.

So what did I do in the three days of Idle?

• I checked emails once every four hours and responded to the urgent ones. I also took phone calls as necessary, but did not initiate any.
• I did not write a to-do list, though my mind was swimming in things to do. Ha!
• I lay on the sofa watching British crime dramas on Netflix, or reading some books I borrowed from the library, but mostly napping when I felt like it.
• I took my dogs for their walks twice a day, but not anything extra. They were very happy chilling with me, sometimes on me, for the whole three days.
• I made myself simple one-pot meals in the pressure cooker and ate the same for all three meals.
• I slept a lot. A LOT. Over seven hours at night and long naps during the day.
• My meditation hours were even more peaceful, I felt bright physically and mentally.
• I was very aware of sensations in my body, every movement, every morsel I ate, every glass of water I drank, almost of every step I took. It was very pleasing - I was smiling most of the time.
• I think I became a bit more kinder to myself.

I will do this again. Maybe once every month, if I can schedule it, or at least once a quarter. And I recommend this to everyone who works hard and is forever moving from one task to another. Schedule out a day of rest and nothingness. You will find it a very hard thing to do at first because it goes against the grain of your set habit patterns. But once you have it set up, this pause is very beneficial to renew and recharge.

Freo and Ozzie, Idling with Mummy

Just for One Day

 Just for One Day - 

- to live Simply

- to meditate

- to keep the moral precepts

- to lessen what we want

- to be content with what we have

- to have no other aspiration

- to not try to control anything

- to let things be as they are

- to not try to be somewhere or go somewhere

- to Be Peace

If I can for ONE DAY be in this state, maybe there will be other ONE DAYs to follow?

Little Blue Lake, Tasmania

Mind Training is like Walking the Dog

I have two dogs. Freo and Ozzie. At this time Freo is 10ish and Ozzie is 9ish. They are shelter dogs, so we do not know their exact birthdays. Those people who know me on Facebook know how crazy I am about them. After my divorce in 2014, my precious babies went to live with their daddy. In a divorce, the law sees dogs as "property" and not "children", so they need to be ascribed to one party or another. I chose to give up my rights, and he got to "own" them. I consider myself very fortunate because when he is traveling, I get to keep them and I pamper them excessively. I love them as children, kids that I will never have. And while they are alive, I do not intend to reduce my pampering one bit, for it gives me much joy.

My Freo, My Ozzie (Nov 2018 @ Balboa Park)

This morning I was texting with a friend who is working hard on training his mind. There is a lot of dialog going on, and he is putting earnest effort. I feel he's working too hard, too tight. So I gave him the example of dog walking, which I share with you. Here we go -

When walking the dog we keep it on a leash. If the dog is somewhat trained, the leash can be retractable. But there is a limit to the length of the leash. For our walks, we start from home and we return home. We have a general idea of the walking path, but it is allowed to be varied. The timing should be such that it works for both the dogs and the dog walker's schedule. During the walks, the dogs are to be on the sidewalk, and when crossing the roads, the dog walker makes sure that there is no oncoming traffic and that it is safe to cross. The dog walker tugs on the leash gently, kindly, but firmly, so as to make sure the dog gets the message and does not run into oncoming traffic or takes off after another dog or skateboarder. However, the dog also has freedom. He can investigate, pee, poop wherever he likes. The dog walker picks up the poop for safe disposal. The dog has free rein on movement within the limits of the leash length. He also can request a change of route, and the dog walker often obliges. He can spend as much sniffing time he wants on the walk on one particular fence or hydrant or tree stump. The walker is patient and often finds the investigative nature of the dog quite amusing. The walker observes that the dog eventually completes his investigation and moves on, and does not stay on one item for too long. It is the nature of a dog. The walker decides when it is time to get home and rest, and expertly herds the dog home. Usually this whole process is a very fulfilling experience for both the dog walker and the dog. They are both very happy after the walk, refreshed and peaceful.

This dog walking process is no different from how we train the mind, on the meditation cushion and off the cushion. There is no harshness in the process. The process (walk) is kindful and pleasant, but directed and efficient. This is the right method of training for anything, be it for a sport, or a skill. There can be firmness, but there need not be any harshness. This subtlety is often lost on the teachers and pupils. When there is harshness, the whole training process is strained and often painful and leads to a bitter experience for both. Hence, when trying to train the mind for anything, be it a new diet, or workout plan, or learning to play an instrument, or studying for the exam, the process has to be similar to walking the dog. Allow the mind to investigate, pee, and poop when it needs to. Pick up the poop. Make a plan for the walk and firmly follow it, with allowance for little variations here and there. Let the mind roll and stop where it likes, watch amused how it likes to sniff and pee on useless objects, watch how it often wants to run after other dogs or skateboarders, watch how it does not know how and when to cross the road and needs your wisdom to help it. As the wisdom faculty develops, it is very kind to the restless mind energy, it is compassionate, it is loving and caring. It knows where the destination is and which way to go and the time limitations, that is extremely clear. But it allows the mind to roam about along the way, to allow that mind to express itself, even if it is mere peeing and pooping. There is no resentment whatsoever. There is understanding - look, this is the nature of the mind, it pees and poops. So the wisdom faculty (the dog walker) is gentle with that nature. 

I understand self-love as this process. This is taking care ourselves. It is not about massages, and mani-pedi, or vacations, or restaurants, or climbing mountains, or even sex. While those are very nice and pleasurable activities and should be done when needed. The true self-care is about learning how the nature of this mind really is, and then wisely direct it from unwholesome towards wholesome, without any ill-will or anger or harshness towards the task at hand, caring for it with boundless love and patience (and picking up the poop too!!).

Of Flowers and Finances

These days I buy flowers for myself, and also love to receive flowers. I know it is not a big deal, lots of people buy and receive flowers everyday, every grocery store and mall has a flower store. But it is a very big deal for me. For much of my life I did not buy flowers, nor did I like it when people gave me flowers. For me flowers represented a state of impermanence, and I was on a quest to make things last forever - my home, my marriage, my relationships, my career, my everything. I wanted very intensely that no matter what I started on should be perfect, and once I have created it, it should also sustain itself over time. This was a deep seated quest within me, honed with decades of insecurities while being blessed with an innate drive. I was able to build grand castles with flimsy cards and keep them standing, while anxiously protecting them from each gust of wind or shake of the table. At what cost, even I did not know very well at that time. 40 years of incessant quest, non stop. As I said, I was blessed with a drive energy, but not with adequate life wisdom to focus the drive in the right channels and to understand the true nature of how the world works. I had no clue! I had this us-and-them relationship with the world/ nature. I needed to fight to create and maintain and protect my castles of cards. I had internalized the misguided aphorism "no pain, no gain". My quest was therefore also that of pain. Instead of working "with" the natural order of things, I believed I needed to work "in spite" of it.

Flowers in my Living Room, March 2019

My energy and drive served me well. I have survived a very painful abused childhood, I now live in a very developed country, own my home and all the luxuries that this lifestyle has to offer, I have invested 20+ years in a career and advanced rapidly. I fondly recollect the joy of being 33 and managing $300M program of projects with five teams in four continents with the efficiency of a well practiced orchestra master. I thrived on that. Today I have a engineering and management consulting practice in San Diego, that I have carefully nurtured and grown; we are are in our ninth year. In the last decade, I survived seven years of major crisis one year after the other, each as profound as the other, and so closely situated that I faced a new crisis before I could heal from the previous one. There were major car accidents, death, cancer scares, surgeries, disenchantment with family, divorce, major financial stress, and more. Well, I am still standing! Some days this realization itself fills me with an intense sense of gratitude. And during this last decade, I also found Vipassana, and that finally started bringing a bit of wisdom in my life. It is as if a door within me has opened, and I am slowly and cautiously making my way into myself, learning what lies within, and by doing just that I am learning how the world really works outside, I am learning to live with it and not against it anymore. I'm learning to let the water hold me as I try to swim, and not fight it. It is a new skill, I am not expert at it yet, but getting better everyday.

So what about the flowers?
Yes, flowers are impermanent. And they are a representation of nature, as it is. Beautiful flowers are born, they live their cycle, and then pass away, when they do they actually stink of melted leaves and faded blooms. I am getting used to that experiential truth, in my meditation practice on the cushion, and as it overflows into my day to day life. I am not seeking permanence anymore. I am learning to accept that flow of life as it arrives every moment, allowing it rather than blocking it or trying to channel it by force. I have more or less discarded will-power, and started to follow the lead of wisdom-power.

All this is good and nice, may even sound koo-koo to some. I sometimes feel the same! But then when I really watch the change that has come in my life and subtle benefits of peace, clarity, and fearlessness, I am amazed. These benefits are to be experienced deep within. One cannot see another and measure from outside. It is all internal. And I am so very grateful that I have a practice, I go to that mental gym and workout everyday, my mind gradually purifying, getting stronger, and the tendrils of true courage sprouting.

So what about the finances?
In the "traditional world" as I call it, where we live our life with a script, either handed to us by society or by our own fears, we live by goals. Boy, did I do those yearly goal setting exercises every year of my adulthood. In fact, in my drive to excel, I'd measure progress every month, sometimes every week. There was a time in 2003 - 2007 when I had read every self-help or career/ life book available. You  name it, and I have read it. Not only read it, I have applied it in my life. See, I used to think that was true life wisdom, and it was outside of me in words, and I needed to read, intellectualize, and then put habits in place to actualize. They worked, to a large extent, but was not complete. Because it was someone else's wisdom, not arising from within.

Now, with my practice, I have learned to see my fears and anxieties, raw and palpating, as they arise. I have learned to sit with them, raw and palpating, without taking any other "out", be it an intoxicant, or a pill, or a flight of fancy in hope-land, or an emotional crutch in another being. It is HARD, I tell you. But since 2014, this has been the sole focus of my existence, to learn how to surf these internal waves. By no means I am an expert surfer, but these days I can stand on the waves longer than being drawn under it gasping for air, or being battered unconscious by my own surfboard. During these last five years, I have realized that financial independence is one of the key foundation stones I need to secure for a balanced life moving forward.

There is a strong FIRE movement afoot. It is still counterculture to some extent, and it intrigues me. I have been talking about retirement to my friends for a few years, but I really mean financial independence. It is what one prominent blogger calls having F-you Money, I like that. I am gradually reading through the huge body of information that is available, and the more I read it feels totally in line with what I have in mind for myself into the future. So I am starting to write a different "fuzzy" goal, form a "fuzzy" plan, and start step-by-step action as coordinated as I can get.
When will you retire? I don't know, there are many factors that go into it. I need to plan that effectively. Financial Independence is the first step. Then I will decide.
What will you do when you retire? Oh! I have a hobby-rich temperament, I will have no dearth of things to do. I know that for sure.
Will you travel? Maybe. (Most probably I will meditate a whole lot more than what I can afford today. And increase my hospice-related effort.)
Will you still be working in your field? Probably, because I love my clients very much, and helping them makes me happy.

I look at FIRE as more of a way to have full freedom and access to my time. Having been through couple life-threatening accidents, some very serious health issues and surgeries, and having watched the death process first hand few times, I now know experientialy that there is limited time. I need to focus on Making Time, that is, freeing up my time from most useless distractions. And in that process, making space for whatever wholesome qualities wants to bloom in my heart. Financial independence for me is like the water in the vase, it is life sustaining for the flowers for the period of their beautiful existence and I need to keep it fresh and enough. Flowers don't last forever, and I will not as well. And when this flower fades out of existence, I wish that the dead leaves, blooms and water go into some good compost, so that it can give life to new flowers and help them bloom their own cycle. That is the purpose of this life of mine, my manifesto!

Car Bumper and My Inflexible Mind

On the last Monday of January, I had an important client meeting up in North County. I had missed breakfast and the meeting went on till late into lunch time. I was famished, so I decided to go through the local McDonald's and get a quick meal. As I was pulling through the drive-thru lane, a GMC Sierra decided to back into my Prius. I could see the truck backing, it was too late to stop, so I accelerated and honked. It hit my rear bumper and it came loose. The driver was shocked, slightly irritated, but mostly sad. He started out with, "Lady, you were driving too fast....", and I said, "I wish I was, then I would have cleared the truck. It was my right of way though..." This could have been an altercation, but I was not up for a fight, I was not upset or anxious or feeling any trepidation. I was in fact quite cool and easy. So we exchanged insurance info and license info. He helped me somehow secure the rear bumper so that I could drive the 40 miles back home. I gave him a hug before I left. I avoided the freeway speeds and drove the scenic way home along Route 1, which was a treat.

Just another minor car accident

I came home, secured the bumper with tape. Then started the phone calls with State Farm (my insurance), getting couple estimates, then picking a body shop, waiting for the part to arrive, renting a car, dropping off my Prius, driving the rental for few days, and then finally getting the Prius back today. During this process, in stark contrast to the coolness I had experienced during the accident, I felt quite flustered and slightly irritated. It was interesting to watch my mind being inflexible.

My garage door was connected to my Prius rear-view mirror (there is a garage opener button) and I have lost or misplaced the only clicker I had. So I needed to go buy a new garage door opener, which cost me some money and something I would not have usually bought. Yes, I could have parked the rental on the street, but that would have opened the rental to a chance of damage that I didn't want to subscribe to when having a perfectly good garage. After researching on Amazon, I bought the clicker from Home Depot at a higher cost. Then programmed it to the garage door and was surprised how easy that was. Made me wonder about what weak our protection systems are for our homes!

Next, Hertz gave me a Kia Soul. I did not like the car at all. Mileage was around 17 miles/gallon, which is dismal compared to my Prius. I don't care much for the looks, so that didn't bother me much. But honestly, it is quite an ugly looking car, cube is not something we associate well with aerodynamics (which might explain its low mileage). Little things bothered me, such as lack of key less entry, especially when I needed to carry four bags around. Then figuring out the radio and blue tooth connection was not very intuitive (software interface of my 2012 Prius' is worse, but it is okay because I do not have to program it often). There was no GPS or a map program, shows how dependent I have become on that feature. But most importantly, when they did the inspection before giving me the car, the kid at Hertz may or may not have noted the ding on the windshield. They never sent me the report! So the next day I drove to the rental place again and asked them to do a re-inspection. Meantime I was worried that I might get charged for a windshield. So much hassle.

Well, I returned the car today, and am back in my Prius. Order has been restored in my world!!

What I found so interesting was that during the three days I had this rental, I felt displaced. It was a very odd feeling. There was a time when, mostly in resonance with my ex-husband's excitement, I used to get excited about the opportunity to drive a new car. Why not check out this new manufacturer and the cool new buttons and conveniences of the rental. Read up on the stats, discuss the differences, etc. But this time, I was feeling more aversion than excitement. I looked at driving that car as a chore and even postponed some errands because I did not want to drive that car. It was an okay car, but my mind did not want to get into it. I watched that sense of aversion, it was light but palpable, and very interesting. The best analogy I can give is that repulsion you feel when bringing two similar poles of two weak magnets together, say two fridge magnets. When we bring the N-N or S-S together, there is a slight repulsion that is felt in the fingers. We can still force the contact to happen as our arm strength is more than the repulsive force of the pithy magnets, but we can feel that repulsion. My mind's state was kind of like that, repulsed by the notion of having to drive another car but mine. I still did it, and all the while my rational/ logical side knew that this was temporary, but I still felt that repulsion.

I find this very interesting, don't you? Yes, we can chalk this sensation as "Oh! I am getting older. I don't like things changing." But is it that? I change so many things every day, why will a car be any different? I am not very attached to my Prius, it is just a workhorse for me. Given the money I would get myself a Subaru Impreza as my dream car. As I observed this inflexibility of my mind, it sure made me very curious as to what was going on, deep inside, what is this tendency of the mind and why it moves the way it moves. It is not logic, it is not pure emotions either, or at least it did not seem so. What ever it is, it is very interesting!

Adios, Nau Kaku

My dear uncle, my Nau Kaku, passed away this morning. He was 64. A very accomplished orthopedic surgeon, he spent his entire career serving at the West Bengal Government hospitals, while also having a private practice where he generously treated many people as their personal physician. He leaves behind his loving wife, and two talented kids.

This month as been tough on our family. My aunt, my father's older sister by three years, passed away only a few weeks back, and now my uncle, who was six years junior to my dad. The family is grieving. At times like this I wish I could be there with them, to hug them, to care for them. This is the curse of living abroad, so far away from family, we cannot hold their hand in times of need. All we can do is hold them in my heart and send them metta. May their pain ease away and the space be filled with beautiful memories that last a lifetime.

My uncle and I shared a special bond. My earliest memory of him was during a Durga Puja in Barrackpore, must be 1978/1979 or so, when I was just a toddler. We used to visit Kolkata on every Durga Puja, and for those five days it was joyful abandon all the time. My mum did not have the power to restrict me in any way, my dad was always laughing and going with the flow, and I ran from one uncle to the other, playing and giggling, eating all the sweets I could, and going on morning walks with my grandpa at the Palta water treatment plant clutching his little finger with all my might. At nights, there used to be cultural presentations at the local puja - we Bengalis are like that, give us an occasion and we will happily put up a grand show of music, drama, poetry, dance, and everything else, we are quite a cultural lot. Being a young kid of only two or three, for those five days there was no restriction of sleep time or food. I was like a free kite, flitting away from one elder to the other, doing whatever I felt like. At night I went with them to watch the cultural presentations at various pandals, sometimes precariously balancing my little bottom on the 2-inch middle rod of my uncles' bicycles, and behaving so much like an adult! But the day-long non-stop excitement usually wore me down every night, and I would fall asleep on the lawn chairs at the puja venues, only to burden my uncles to carry me home in a rickshaw or on foot.

Your seat is empty, Nau Kaku, but you are in my heart as a beautiful flower, now and always

My first strong memory of my Nau Kaku is from one such evening. I had fallen asleep on the chairs at a puja venue, about a mile or two away from home. I remember vividly, as if it was yesterday, he softly spoke in my ears, and lifted me onto his shoulders. In my half sleepy-half wakeful state, I remember the warmth of his embrace, there was kindness and gentleness in his touch. As he walked me home, I remember the vibration of his heart against mine, his breath in my hair, the gentle rolling of his every step passing through my body. It was very soothing and peaceful, my hands were around his neck, my throat against his carotid and I could feel his pulse as if intertwined with mine. This was his affection, and I savored it. For about two miles he carried me home, ever so gently, never once changing sides, lest he woke me up. It couldn't have been easy, try carrying couple gallons of water on one hand for two miles without letting it splash, you'll know. I had my new shoes on, sandals, and I had played in the dust all day, making them extremely muddy and dirty. And as my Nau Kaku carried me home that night, my shoes kept brushing against his new clean shirt, making it so dirty that it could never be washed and made anew (believe me, my mother tried!!). We were quite poor then, the number of shirts my uncles had were limited, this was quite a loss for him.

Years later, I remember his wedding. I was just enough old to understand the excitement of the various ceremonies. I remember being by his side all through the four days, stuck to him like a magnet, even at his in-laws' place I wouldn't lose sight of him for a moment. I remember helping him dress up for the wedding, putting Chandan on him with cloves dipped in the fragrant paste, and then putting the topor on him. It was such a delight! He looked so handsome!

He had this habit of touching our ears. He would sit by us, and touch the softness of our ears, never pulling them, but just playing with it. It was both endearing and irritating at the same time for all us cousins, depending on the mood we kids had. He would playfully threaten us that he is coming after our ears, that he will eat them, that they are so soft and yummy. And we would squeal and run, with him playfully chasing us about, until my grandma would scold him and put a stop to our "try and catch me" game.

I did not get to see him for most of my growing years. Last time I met him was around the time my mum was passing, in late January 2012. He had come over to visit my mum, and to placate my father. My mum was in bad shape, and my father very distraught. To have his doctor brother beside him, even for a few hours, gave my father some relief. Little did we know then that in six years time he will be gone too. My uncle developed a heart condition and it just got worse over time, ending with many months of suffering. Late last week he was hospitalized, and then had multiple organ failure. He hung on for several days, possibly waiting for his son to arrive from the US and say goodbye. Today my aunt and cousins are writhing in grief, my heart resonates with them, for I know how painful it is to loose a loved one. My father, my sister, and me still remember our own experience quite vividly.

Whether we like it or not, whether we want to accept it or not, this is the reality of life. We are born and we pass away. All this we have around us, our possessions, material and emotional, are but ephemeral. When the life force has to go, it just disappears like the blowing out of a flame. I think of this often, sometimes every passing hour. Since my mother's passing I have been volunteering at a local hospice, I get to see many patients and families, and I get to see the wide range of emotions surrounding death. Our society, our culture, reviles death, and does not recognize it as something just as natural as birth. May be it will change one day, maybe one day we will make peace with the flame going out.

My Boro Pishi

This Monday morning (evening in India time), July 9th 2018, my Boro Pishi passed away. Boro Pishi in Bengali translates to Eldest Aunt (father's sister). It was a quick one they said, heart attack/ cardiac arrest. She suffered less than three to four hours. Which is quite okay considering the hard life she has had to endure. She was 73.

My Boro Pishi

The last time I saw her was in March of 2013, when I had made a day trip to our ancestral village/town of Jayanagar-Majilpur, where she lived almost all her life. This is the sad part of living so far in the US, we cannot meet our family as often as we like. My trip in 2013 was very delightful, I got to meet two sweet daughters of my cousins for the first time, and reconnect with their wives too. Today, as I reflect back, I wish I had more opportunities like this to hang out with family. But what to do, we need to learn to be happy with what we have, and what we get.

When we were kids, our summer, Durga puja, and winter holidays used to be around Kolkata, mostly in the suburbs of Kolkata where my extended family lived. We spent a lot a lot of time in Barrackpore (my paternal grandparents' place), and in Bansberia (my maternal grandparents' place); both  on the banks of the beautiful serene Hoogly River (Ganges) with picturesque ghats. Often, especially during Durga Puja, we'd visit my Boro Pishi in Jaynagar-Majilpur. It was a long two to three hour journey by two local trains. Sometimes the travel time was even longer. If there was a power failure, the train would sit on the rails for quite some time. Or if two opposite direction trains had to cross over at a station, we had to wait too, for there was only one rail line for two way train traffic. In the summer, we'd be very hot and boil in the train, for there was no air conditioning. There still isn't on most local trains. The air was thick with humidity and the resulting sweat on the scores of bodies in the crowded compartments, made everything sticky and smelly. But if we happened to score a spot on by the window, it was great joy to watch the green fields and rail-side ponds go by, the wind blowing through our hair, and fresh breeze off the paddy fields. And there was pat-phati, a indigenous soda water that was sold by the hawkers on the train, cold, in clear glass bottles, that made a "phat" sound when they uncapped the bottle, a cloud of CO2 formed in the humid air, and the fizzy water would delight and quench everyone who drank it. Who knows what water they used, but we did not care. We looked forward to that drink. And there was the hawker's sonepapri, telebhaja, jhal-muri, spicy sweet-n-sour lozenges, and so on. When we reached the J-M station eventually, our cousins would be at the station to receive us. Sometimes we would get on their bicycle carry-back and ride with them home, while our parents walked or took the rickshaw. But if we had luggage, we would take a "van-rickshaw". It is a fabulous way to travel. It is a flatbed rickshaw that can take six to eight people. I loved it and would plead my parents for permission every time. The village roads were narrow and torturous, many old buildings with ivy, some dilapidated, some newly built with fresh whitewash, the tall palms, the huge banyans, the backyard ponds in each home, the cuckoo calls, the chatter of the birds, cows hanging around blocking the roads, the soft smell of cow dung in the air emanating from the wall patties, the cool breeze from the fields and orchards, and above all there was a sense of serenity everywhere.

The sight of my Pishi's house would lift my heart. She'd be standing outside the door waiting for us. She had the biggest and widest grin ever. Her face bright and happy, she'd hug each of us. My paternal family is not the hugging kind, they do not demonstrate affection very well, the most they do is let out a strange grunt. And when they had to show any feelings of love they were super awkward. But Boro Pishi was the exception to the rule, she was extremely affectionate and would squeeze each of us tight, shower us with kisses. I loved that very much. I usually would get all teary eyed when she did that and that was also another reason why I loved visiting her.

Once the loving welcome would be done, she'd insist we wash our train filth away using cool tube-well water, change into "house clothes" and get comfortable on the bed or chairs. Then started the food. Tea for the elders and non stop sweets and snacks for us. My dad is usually the iron man around, and his rules were always to be followed. We used to shiver and cower under his strong personality, he was the Royal Bengal Tiger. But at his Didi's place, he had no power whatsoever. She was The Boss - a kind, loving, affectionate, caring, and most benevolent elder there can be. And in her house, she let us have all the fun in the world. My cousins and I would take the bicycles out and ride all over the village, sometimes as far as Nimpith, we'd sit by the neighbor's ponds and chit-chat all afternoon, we'd eat all the singhara and Jaynagerer Moa that we could stuff our face with, we'd take long late afternoon naps on the tall beds under the big brown slow ceiling fans. It was indeed bliss.

Memories of her loud loving voice and hearty laughter brings great joy in my heart still. She had a very difficult life, but she had the most persevering attitude. She used to be a very good and promising student, but my grandparents married her off way before she could complete her studies and get a job. Those were the times when being a daughter was considered a liability and parents looked to get their daughters married off as soon as they could find an eligible prospect. I don't think I ever met my Pishe, her husband. If I did, I do not remember. He passed away quite early in his life, he had stomach or colon cancer. She was left to raise three young kids, a daughter and two sons, all by herself as a single parent, on his meager death benefits from the government. How she did that while being so cheerful and peaceful, only she knows. It was probably not easy, but her exuberant attitude towards life was probably what helped her maneuver through the difficult trials of life. Her three kids grew up to be very proficient young people, each with secure careers and beautiful families of their own. I love them to bits.

Pishi remains in my heart entangled with some of my best memories of my childhood. She was very dear to me and will always be. I wish that in another lifetime I get to be near her again, to experience her loving caring presence once more.