Humour – Page 6 – Nourish-n-Cherish

Reflecting on 30 Years at a High School Reunion

30 years 30 minutes

When we look back on life – what do you tell those who knew you when you were but a little girl? Some had grown into more distinguished versions of themselves, few were hardly recognizable (especially those who had embraced facial hair – mustaches, beards, and the like), and a rare few looked far younger than their biological age.

There was a strange moment when I asked a fellow classmate, “I am sorry, I am unable to recognize you – can you remind me who you are?”

“Oh come on Saumya!” He said, and I felt a flush creep up my cheek.

“Not the right response man!” I said laughing, as he reminded me with a helpful anecdote to place him.

In 30 years, a lifetime has passed, and yet felt like a heartbeat.

Sounds cliched I know. Probably the thing that everyone who has attended a high school reunion feels.

As I gazed fondly around the room taking in the whirlwind of activity and the people who were at school with me, I felt gratitude first for all the memories. Even the bitter ones seemed to have attained a bitter-sweet tinge to it, which did not quite seem possible at the time.

When we left school 3 decades ago, everything felt sharp – in a way that teenagers can feel. The angst, the turbulence, the weight of expectations, the sense of trepidation for what lies ahead. And then somehow, life happened in those moments of angst. The years rolled by. Careers were made, lives were built, children were birthed and raised, and through it all, our families and friends bore the thrum of Lawrence School almost like background music.

It was fantastic to see where life had led us all in the three decades since. Many had embraced growth, some had endured it, and a few had denied it. But we were all swimming across the river and continuing to brave the currents. Some of us were still in the whirlwinds of the swift currents, some were looking forward to the quiet moments of water lapping around the shores on the opposite side. Regardless of where we were in life though, there was an enormous affection.

I remember thinking as a girl why the Old Lawrencians made such a fuss about their reunions decades later – they all seemed to be so happy to be there with their hair greying and limbic nimbility dwindling. I understand now.

People Currents

It was curious to see the patterns emerging after all these years. How we sought out the people we liked, had a polite curiosity about the people we didn’t, and found out about the ones we respected after all these years. Finding out about those who had exceeded expectations, those who braved life’s storms with equanimity and grace, and those who had simply let themselves go in the intervening years.

As we traded our life stories, it was humbling to see all the different and varied ways in which the world had tested and tried us over the past few decades. Love makes us endure horrendous things just as much as it makes us do inspiring things. It is no wonder there is a Love door in the Department of Mysteries in the Harry Potter Universe!

Life truly is a mystic game. I was reminded several times of the quote by Leo Tolstoy:

All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way

Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

As we took several walks down the memory lane, each one had recollections of their life in boarding school that was unique: sometimes traumatic, other times funny, many times reflections on moments of personal growth and realization. I don’t think I’ve laughed this much over inane things since adulthood.

Just for that, it was all worth it.

April Highlights: Poetry Month and Stress Awareness

April is a beautiful month of Spring. It also is Poetry Month, Stress Awareness Month, and plays host to several days such as Earth Day, World Reading Day, International Dance Day, and we found out quite recently, World Quantum Day.

Trying to accommodate all these different aspects into reading and experiences can be quite the adventure if you let it.

For Stress Awareness Month, we released the fourth episode of Sitare Spotlight. This time, our guest was Salima Banu Iezzey. Salima is a fitness coach, adventurer and nutritionist. The conversations with her were a good reminder for all the tenets of good living. Simple things we can do for daily well-being, bigger adventure goals and healthy eating. Please check it out here:

Sitare Spotlight Ep.4: Salima Banu Iezzey on Fitness, Adventure & Wellbeing

https://youtu.be/Tpirxjy_u8U?si=2-3P_Q7ltAgjpChA

For Poetry Month, apart from dipping into poetry collections from time to time, this time I also read about the life and times of Emily Dickinson. It was fascinating to see how the few poems of hers that did make it to publication during her lifetime were published anonymously by her friends and family members.

Book: Becoming Emily – the life of Emily Dickinson – Krystyna Poray Goddu (what a fascinating way to spell Krystyna?)

It was only after her death that her friend and niece got her poems published – a little tug of war between them to see who had access to more poems. It is also interesting to note that like Jane Austen, Emily Dickinson too hailed from a family that valued education, and somehow, even during those times of limited financial independence for women, were unmarried. That probably explains the prodigious work they were able to turn out in their lifetimes.

On Earth Day I gazed down upon Earth as we took off and flew over arid deserts, lush green forests, snowy stretches, oceans brimming with life, on my travels. All the time marveling at humankind and our ability to create a safe mode of transport in the air when we neither have the wings nor the air-borne buoyancy required to pull it off. Our innovation helping us gaze over the beautiful planet and peer into the maps being flashed on the screens”

Flying over Deer Lake, Cat Lake, Big Trout Lake, Sam Lake, Kingfisher lake, Wunnumin Lake – past Saskatchewan and Ontario

Quaktaq – Past Hudson Bay – where I remembered reading about the Great Bear Sea and the Arctic Unicorns (Narwhals)

Then I zoomed and chuckled over whimsical, interesting and beautiful names: Pikangikum, Quaktaq, Akulivik Puvirnituk.

One of the many futures of AI innovations may whisper in my head the meanings or origins of each of these names, but for now, it was enough for me to muse. Imagine nonsensical little things about their etymology, the languages, or the peoples who named them. I wonder why we don’t spend more time as amateur cartographers, naming the little nooks and corners of our daily walks. I remember telling someone to meet me at Reflection Pond, and then remembering that there was no Reflection Pond on the map. It was simply a name the children and I had come up for the dear pond on one of our many strolls. It was the time of sunset, the pink and orange hues above our heads were beautifully reflected in the serene waters below, and we sat there, each of us lost in our own reflections.

Celebrating World Quantum Day: History and Fun Facts

World ⚛️ Quantum ⚛️ Day – April 14th

“Oh wow, ma! Today is Quantum Day!” said the son. Actually yelped the fellow, like the words were yanked out of him by the excitement coursing through him. For some weird reason, even as a young toddler, he loved the word, ‘Quantum’.

Maybe it was Iron Man or Ant-Man – that movie in which they use the word ‘Quantum’ every time they did not want to explain something. Or maybe it was the fact that we all liked watching The Big Bang Theory television series in the house so much when he was a child, or maybe the Cosmos shows by Carl Sagan, or the fact that I like reading about Physics.

In any case, Quantum. He lights up when you mention Quantum-This or Quantum-That.

I smiled at him, and said, “Wow! I didn’t know they had a day for that!”

2025 is also the International Year of Quantum as designated by the United Nations. 100 years since Quantum Mechanics became a part of higher education science and research.

⚛️ My First Book of Quantum Physics ⚛️

This seemed to call for a little nostalgia. I opened a favorite book of ours – as a child, I remember getting this for him and he spent hours looking through the pictures.

My First Book of Quantum Physics – by Sheddad Kaid-Salah Ferron & Eduard Altarriba

It really is a beautiful book. Sheddad Kaid-Salah Feroon & Eduard Altarriba do a fantastic job of the illustrations, explanations of difficult concepts and providing a general feel for the subjects.

It is why we were excited to visit the CERN supercollider in Switzerland.

Sheddad Kaid-Salah Feroon & Eduard Altarriba have a series of books covering topics such as:

Quantum Physics
Relativity
Electromagnetism
Cosmos
Microbes
Evolution

Please check these books out if you get the chance. It is always fascinating. Especially, when in our everyday lives, even if we are professionals with science backgrounds, we hardly set aside the time for this type of shoshin (the wonder of the beginner’s mind)

In one time and place, when not observed, if we can find that joy of wonder, that would be Quantum, wouldn’t it?! Get it? Get it?!

Taming the Ego: Embracing Irrelevance

Taming the Ego

One of the biggest achievements of growing old has to be the achievement of realizing our own diminishing importance in the world, and gracefully succumbing to a life that is finally galloping past us. This can be a phenomenally difficult thing to do. I am well aware that I may have this very article picked up, printed and taped to my bedside as an octagenarian or a nonagenarian by the younger ones in my life. (I shall have a laugh then!)

But right now, writing this in my forties, I feel that day is far away and can therefore hope to lord my philosophies of life over everyone.

I suppose Taming the Ego is a theme that these Zen and Buddhist teachings harp on quite a bit. Confused with humility, this often manifests as a tool for diminishing our accomplishments. What I think it means is letting go of our perceived importance in the world, and seeking irrelevance.

The world of work is already changing quickly enough to ensure that senior citizens feel a bit frazzled by the nature of it all. So the work world is quite easy to relinquish our control over. The harder aspects to relinquish control are over the other aspects of our daily life.

The promise of the future vs the nostalgia of the past.

I was reading a fascinating children’s book, If You Come to Earth – By Sophie Blackall, that deserves a post all on its own about how you’d feel if you were an alien visiting Earth. Not exactly a new theme, but the book is engaging enough to introduce us to Earth with all its quirks and attractions.

There was a page in there that quite neatly summed up aging.

Older people are good at telling stories about the world when they were young. Kids are good at making up stories that haven’t happened yet.

– Sophie Blackall, If You Come to Earth

What a marvelous way to sum up humanity’s youth against the aging process? The promise of the future vs the nostalgia of the past.

The Tyranny of Technology

I remember an incident a couple of decades ago when I took the just-retired father into the ATM with me. It was a swanky little ATM – all polished floors and gleaming surfaces, the cameras concealed in the false ceilings etc. The pater came in gaping at the wonder of it all. Thus far, he had walked into the State Bank of India office in our little residential town, wished all the staff a good day, asked about the teller’s son’s progress after his recent surgery, withdrawn money from his account and scurried home to put it in the locker in the Godrej cupboard.

Suddenly, here he was, no teller in question. No human in question. With a machine that gave money. He said, all agog, “Kondhai (child) – can you take out 1000 rupees at a time 5 times so I can see what is happening?”

I laughed and complied.

But it was just the beginning.

Where previously, our parents’ generation dealt with money, now they too have to contend with credit cards, ATMs and electronic banking. The few banks that continue to offer in-person services are heavily sought after. It is also becoming easier than ever for scams to take place. After all, the teller no longer knows that you already withdrew cash for your grand-daughter’s wedding a year ago.

The Tides of Time

So, how to stay relevant in a time when the ground is shifting so rapidly beneath you?

What can one do but to embrace those rascals of emotions that sidle up the moment they find a sliver of chance to get in: insecurity, anxiety, fear? How can one not parrot the beliefs and rituals of the past when it is all that seems to make sense to you?

The enormous pressures of technological advances mean that life expectancy has increased, and the tyranny of these advances means that you have to try and stay relevant. Our parents’ generation learnt to use electricity, radios, television, internet, mobile phones, social media – all in a race to stay relevant.

So, when does it all get too much?

I don’t know.

Is the journey to realization of our diminishing importance in the world the ultimate test of spirituality?

After all the tides never stop coming in and going out – they just don’t seem to care about the fish in them.

Spring Adventures: Watching Nature Unfold

We had plans for a lovely bike ride by the bays and knolls near our home, a hike in the verdant hillsides, or even a walk by the stream/river by our home where all our fellow creatures are preparing for the year ahead. Soon, the ducklings and goslings will hatch. Everywhere you see, there are signs of nest building and it is endlessly fascinating to sit and watch the frenetic spring cleaning happening, even if it isn’t happening in our own home. I empathized with Mole in the Wind in the Willows : Who wants to wallow inside the home, dusting old furniture and mopping dusty floors when the world outside is so full of beauty and promise?

The son and I had our spring hopes dashed for us with a bout of flu. That feeling of enormous promise that accompanies spring was dampened somewhat by the high fevers, and we moped about the house.

Watching Spring

When the fever subsided, we pulled ourselves to sit outside and watch spring at least. The crows and wrens stopped flying and did a double take mid-air seeing our watch-fest. If AI interpreted their language, I am sure we’d have some semblance of this:

“These two restless souls – what are they doing sitting and watching?”

“I know – been seeing them for the past few minutes. Nothing? Are they really doing Nothing?”

“Strange!”

But this Nothing gave rise to something marvelous. We noticed the fresh green leaves sprouting in the ginkgo and maple trees. Some of the cherry trees had blossomed out of their flowery cloaks into their leafy ones, while others were still in their efflorescent robes of pink and white.

“See this leaf? “ said the son. “It is shaped so that it can fly very fast and the seeds within can spread when it falls!”

I peered into the leaves he was showing me, and it was true. I remember learning to make a paper airplane in a pattern like that once, and watched mesmerized as it floated down and away every time we launched it. What a brilliant inspiration?

Right enough, we searched for the tree in question, and it is called the Hot Wings Tartarium Tree. The Hot Wings maple tree is a low maintenance beauty whose seeds are called Samaras.

Nature is astounding – every leaf, seed, flower, tree, shrub, plant, trunk, twig is a marvel in itself and sometimes sitting and watching is the best reward.

We came back inside flush with the knowledge of having seen a new wonder, and felt better.

Poems & Trees:

I think I shall never see

A poem as lovely as a tree

– Joyce Kilmer

The poem finishes on these wise lines:

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

Only Nature can do accomplish this fest without fanfare.

The Joys of Walking: National Walking Day Reflections

Happy National Walking Day

I was pleasantly surprised to know that today (the first Wednesday of April) is National Walking Day sponsored by the American Heart Association.

Regular readers, friends and family know the walking fetish I have.

There are a number of things I am teased for in the household, but nature walking has to take the cake. “You do realize that you can achieve a lot more if you just walked less and talked less too, right?” is a common refrain.

I have to agree, but I seem to think that without walking, there is just time at home in which a myriad different things show up as tasks to be done. I mean review this:

The kitchen needs scrubbing, the snacks need eating, the clothes need folding, the food needs cooking, the cook-grill needs cleaning, and the dust needs dusting.

Out in Nature Though

Whereas out on a walk, the geese don’t need prodding to squawk, the mallard ducks don’t need encouragement to fly and land with a splash in the waters, the suns rays don’t need reminding to spatter and scatter a myriad different colors into the perfectly placed clouds in the horizon as it sets, the lavender and eucalyptus don’t need reminding to waft their aromas into the atmosphere. It is all there for the taking.

It is the sacred act of you and yourself out walking. Just the mind taking some time to rejuvenate with fresh air, slowly dissipating the tensions of the day into the evening air, letting nature do its work, and the body healing and strengthening itself.

Once my newsfeed told me about today being National Walking Day, the old soul yearned for the outdoors. So, after the day’s meetings were done, I swished outside. Everything was as perfect as ever. The perfectly positioned clouds, the sun’s rays just right – not too feeble nor too sharp, the flowers of spring all gloriously waving their blooms to the mild breeze, and the rain-washed Earth looking clean, welcoming and habitable.

I was walking by the waterside, and the calm strength of the waters nourished me. Ducks, geese and a pelican or two gracefully glided on the waters. I have often wondered about the sentience of our fellow beings. Do they stop to admire a sunset like some of us do? They are definitely more attuned to nature around us than we are. An unkindness of ravens (or was it a murder of crows?) were loudly cawing overhead.

Shinrin Yoku or Forest Bathing

The Japanese have a practice built around spending time outdoors – specifically longer periods amidst trees and forests – it is called Shinrin Roku – or Forest Bathing. What a marvelous concept?

“Look deep into nature and you will understand everything better!” – Albert Einstein

Happy Walking Day to all of you. Please step outside and enjoy the beautiful Earth even if only for a few minutes today.

How COVID-19 Shaped My Blogging Routine

Syzygy

The blog is a familiar topic with the nourish-n-cherish household.

“How many posts have you written this month, amma?”

“This is going on the blog isn’t it?!”

“You should write about this in the blog, amma!”

The subjects who appear most often are by turns eager, resigned and accept their lot with good humour and grace.

When I published my 1000th blog post, I was encouraged to write a special blog to celebrate the syzygy (aligning of the stars) that enabled me to continue writing.

1000 posts : A Special Post to Celebrate Syzygy

Now there is a different milestone – a smaller one, a different one. But something.

Atomic Habits

Half a decade ago, when Covid-19 hit the shores of America, something phenomenal happened. Travel stopped, non-essential services providers could not sustain, and I found myself faced with time that had been hitherto dedicated to shuttling to train stations, and standing up in crowded compartments being squashed with my fellow commuters, now available for something else. So, I landed up doing the things I liked most – hanging out with the family, walking, biking (we actually bought bikes just before the shutdown), reading (the library was a savior to so many families during this time) and of course, writing. My writing increased from a 4-5 posts a month to a 7-9 posts a month.

Well, it is half a decade since this happened. 5 years in which I kept the pace of the increased frequency. Even when the world around us opened up, economies fluctuated, inflation rose, elections came, and post-election yelps are still being heard, I kept the pace.

Covid and how it changed the world around us

Atomic Habits

“You don’t have to build the habits everyone tells you to build. Choose the habit that best suits you, not the one that is most popular.”
― James Clear, Atomic Habits

Doing something as a labor of love regardless of what it leads to seems to be my strength and my weakness. This month marks 7-9 posts a month for the past 5 years.

13 miles while 13 years old!

The Weight Charts

The last time I took the son for his annual health checkup, the doctor seemed to give me a look as if to say, “Have you tried giving him more high calorie foods?” The children have always been on the lower end of the weight charts – sometimes barely clinging on, other times falling off the charts altogether, especially when they have a growth spurt with their height. So, this is a familiar enough scene. I braced myself, and told the doctor about how he seems to be eating well enough, seems to enjoy his food, and eats more than me etc. He wasn’t impressed and asked the son to eat more and be back in two months time.

This was about a year ago. Also coinciding with a time the old mother was here a-visiting. A grandmother being a g.m., and all that – she was plying her grandchildren with ‘good food’ and this wasn’t having the effect it needed to have. Nevertheless, a watered down version of the doctor’s regimen were relayed to her, and she fed him more ‘good food’ to get him on the weight scale.

Diets & Grandmothers

Around the same time, the husband had decided to go on a strict diet – a no-carb diet, which in a household filled with South Indian grandparents and grandchildren who love their food, can be a carbolicious nightmare. The mother would periodically cast doubts on what sort of husband I was raising if I wasn’t cooking him what he wanted.”We raise children, not husbands!” was poorly received.

Yours Truly was on a low-carb version, having realized the futility of cooking and nutrition in this household, and merely settling for the occasional serving of quinoa instead of white rice when possible.

So there we are: I hope I’ve painted a nice cozy domestic scene for you. The mother, able to chastise me and wonder how my husband was eating, how my son was eating, how my parents were eating, how my nephews were eating. The daughter and I, the low maintenance ones, reveling in the glorious sort of peace that comes with being forgotten.

13 miles while 13 years old!

Anyway, it was a few months later, that the son said he wanted to run a half-marathon when he was still 13 years old. “13 miles at 13 years – that’s cool, right?”

I nodded, taking in his reedy body. He could build stamina, weight would still be a problem, but it already was. So, we said yes and started training together. The son and I, running our ways through the emerging springtime. It was a beautiful time to train. The cherry blossoms, the crisp rain-washed earth, the beautiful skies and green hills around us all proved to be a wonderful backdrop to our runs. It was tough going given the demands on our time, and a full school schedule in session. But we managed it.

Yesterday, we finished the Oakland Half Marathon together.

Well, not together. The son was, of course, far faster than Yours Truly, but as the daughter kindly put it, “Aww! Good job Amma. I am proud of you. You can’t help it if you’re old and gave birth to two children!”

His paternal grandmother is here now and is tutting about how little he eats. “Don’t you feed him?” she asked.

I said, “Clearly not as well as you can!” and ducked out of the kitchen looking pleased. I heard her fussing over him with a bowl of something. We had run a half marathon and, sore as we were, it was a wonderful feeling of accomplishment.

“Paati – I can’t eat anymore. I am already full!” said the son, and I smiled to myself.

All was well.

Musical March

March is one of the most beautiful months in the Bay Area. Poets have tried over the years to capture some of the rapture of the month. But even poets such as Emily Dickinson (Dear March—Come in), Or William Wordsworth ( Written in March) seem to do the month justice.

Maybe they lived in colder climes, and the month did not yet burst forth in glory the way it does in California. You see? This is the month of rainbows, clouds and sunsets, golden california poppies, fields of yellow flowers, green grass knolls, sunshine and rain, oranges, cherry blossoms…I could literally go on and on.

The time change happens in the first week of March, and suddenly, cold and bleak evenings seem to shed their winter cloaks and don resplendent spring robes billowing in the wildflower scented breeze. The squirrels are chippier, the birds chirpier, and the breezes gentler.

A run along the river/stream by our home is a joy to endure. There are many places in the trail where the heart bursts with joy. All around you are gentle green hills adorned with wildflowers, the rivers are flowing, the birds are nest-building, and all of nature seems to be in one harmonious, vibrant orchestra.

It is so fitting that the month hosts lesser known festivals for the two things that appeal to the nourish-n-cherish household: whimsical & geeky. St. Patrick’s Day in the Jungle & Pi Day

St. Patrick’s Day in the Jungle

The son & I listened to Irish music on the way to school this morning. The music had us humming along even though we were sleepy. I came home and opened one of the favorite books of mine, St. Patrick’s Day in the Jungle. My friend, Krishna Srinivasan , worked on the musical track for the book St. Patrick’s Day in the Jungle. It has the same vibrant quality to it.

This is the sort of music that makes you peer out to see if a rainbow is there, and if the birds and animals are playing hide-n-seek too. Not to mention the sweet voice of the daughter, who has lost the childish intones in that beautiful book now. So, please do give a listen to the books, and enjoy the music, narration, and pictures for this story – even if you are having a stern day full of important things to do.

Also, any recommendations for Irish music, March poetry, and the general splendidness of Spring is welcome.

A Lament for Short Stories

Give me short stories over real news or fake news any day

The clouds are wondering whether or not to drizzle. It is the perfect weather for musing and meandering thoughts.

I wonder how I meander to the thoughts on short stories – maybe a recent conversation. But I feel the short story is one of the most poignant losses of literary fiction. As children, magazines were filled with short stories and the thrill of finding a short piece contained in and of itself providing the nourishment of the soul was brilliant. What happened to short stories these days?

Give me short stories over real news or fake news any day. Please.

Stories in their natural length: stream, or rivulet, or tributary, or river

I’ve read stories stuffed into tweets – threatening to spill over, and bulging in all the wrong places.

And Then.

I’ve read stories watered down and stretched into novels. The original essence there, somewhere perhaps, but too watered down like homeopathic medicine.

What I’d like is a story – at its length. No fluff. No dilution. Just essence.

If a story is meant to dance and spurt joyously like a stream, let it. If it settles in, and flows like a river, let it. If it is a tributary and wants to join the main river, let it. If it is vast and encompasses depth adn breadth and expands into an ocean, let it.

Kindle Singles came up with the idea – I wonder what happened to it. They fizzled out.

There are anthologies – but they are few.

Reading the first half of The Overstory by Richard Powers made me yearn for short stories again. I think it is time to revisit Golf stories by P G Wodehouse or a little visit to Malgudi to reacquaint myself with all the characters. Tales from a Village School would be welcome too, wouldn’t it? Miss Clare Remembers is a wonderful book of short stories all woven around the fallen giant – the elegant, thin, straight-backed kind teacher, Dolly Clare.

Give me short stories when my attention is wandering. Enough to keep me stimulated, and wanting more.

Recommendations Please

Are we losing another art-form altogether? What would Somerset Maugham say, what would Alice Munro say? I remember the thrill of liking an author’s story, and then finding a whole book written by them. How marvelous it would be to crack open any magazine and find short stories there?

If you do read short stories, which magazines do you get your source from? Apart from The New Yorker I mean.

P.S: I have written a collection of short stories of my own too – both singles & themed collections. Written to its natural length, and savored from time to time by Yours Truly, but otherwise waiting – wondering where they can be published. So, if you have any recommendations of publications for short stories, please let me know.

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World ⚛️ Quantum ⚛️ Day – April 14th

⚛️ My First Book of Quantum Physics ⚛️

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Taming the Ego

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