Georgia

Driving from airport to the city, one is struck by the resemblance to India. Unattractive, ill-maintained  apartment blocks, with clothes hanging out to dry in the balcony.

Entering the Old Tbilisi, with its old-style buildings and a castle on top of the hill overlooking the city, you feel relieved that now it has started resembling Europe. Not Western Europe though. Nowhere as posh.

Beware of air B&B in  Old Tbilisi. The apartment we stayed in was  in a street so dodgy and a building so ramshackle, we almost refused to go inside, thinking it was a mistake.

But even the ramshackle buildings, if they are painted, have a kind of antique charm.

Lots of resemblance to the old, old shawls of kotachi wadi, Mumbai.

The peace bridge looks like a metal hat which has been thrown across to straddle the two banks of Mtkavari river. It's modern look is in stark contrast to the quaint, antique heritage look of the buildings of old Tbilisi.

There is a scenic cable car ride which takes you up to a Fortress called Narikala, on top of a hill. You can get great views of Tbilisi from this hill top.

First time I ever saw a commercial establishment (operating out of a van) selling karak chai along side vodka (cha cha- the Georgian vodka made of grape skin.)

You can walk along the fortress to the statue of a formidable lady who holds a cup of wine in one hand to welcome friendly visitors and a sword to discourage enemies. This is the Mother of Georgia.

The local public transport consists of yellow coloured buses called Matrushkas.

Georgia is much cheaper than Dubai in almost all respects. feel happy.

You know it's a poor country by the number of old people who come up begging for money. That is something you have got unused to, after living in Dubai for some time. Makes you feel sad.

The main street is called Rustaveli, after a poet of yore. It has some pretty buildings, especially the Opera House, which is beautiful, symmetrical and well-maintained.

Expect to see many churches and monasteries as tourist spots. This is a very Christian country.

Food, thank heavens, is not as bland as continental European cuisine. But you will get tired of eating the very fattening khacapuri- manakeesh to you and me.

Interesting to see khinkali- savoury modaks filled with meat.

Most of the people wear black. They seem to like black.

The churches are pretty but old and austere compared to those in Western Europe. Think Sophia Hagia rather than Notre Dame.

There is a lovely street market called Dry Bazaar which is filled with the prettiest glass and ceramic ware, jewellery and Soviet memorabilia.

People speak some English but Russians speakers are better off.

Bollywood, as always, remains the bridge through which people try to connect to us Indians. here, we had an old lady saying, 'Mud ke na dekh, mud, mud ke'. Another old lady cried out, 'Rishi Kapoor, Dimple Kapadia'.

Driving outside Tbilisi, the countryside is pretty. There are trees which resemble cherry trees, with clouds of pink or white blossoms. These are plum trees, and the plums are used in Georgian cooking.

Two hours away, up in the mountains, is Gudauri- a ski resort. Here you can hire an instructor to teach you skiing for 50 Lari (that is 65 dirhams an hour).

There is a cable car/ski lift to take you high up in the mountains for some stunning snow views.

Snow boarding is much, much more difficult than sand boarding. Don't hire a snow board without also hiring an instructor.

If you are not skiing or snowboarding, there's nothing much to do in Gudauri and you may get bored.

You can hire a car and drive unto Kazbegi, if you are willing to spend the money.

The duty-free at the airport is nothing special.

Georgian wines and cha cha are apparently famous, if you want to buy souvenirs.

All in all, it's an interesting place to spend a few days.

English Vinglish

Just because the 40th birthday is done and dusted, there's no reason to stop with the gratitude diaries. In that spirit, this post could be viewed as an extension of my Gratitude diary one- though it isn't really.

I flew back yesterday after a short visit home. Before it was time for me to leave, my mother wept a few tears lamenting that she misses me a lot and then, as is her wont, controlled herself and exhorted me to look after myself, not to worry about her, that she'd be fine. I was feeling quite sad myself at the thought of leaving her.

It was in this frame of mind, that I watched a film on the flight home, which I had missed watching some years ago when it was released- English Vinglish. I found myself really drawn into this film. As I was watching it, I could relate so well to it. I wanted to slap Shashi's daughter, while recalling that I myself must have behaved as badly, or worse, towards my own mum. I loved the niece Radha, and hoped my own nieces would grow up to be like her and that I would share a bond with them like the one that Shashi shares with Radha. But most of all, I so wanted my mum to have an experience like Shashi. To be able to step out of her mum role, to experience herself as an individual, an entrepreneur. And to be able to command respect, not just love. We all find it easy to show love towards our parents, spending time with them, taking them out, buying them little gifts, taking them to the doctor. But respect? Oh man, that is another ball game altogether. To some extent, gender conditioning has ensured that we treat at least our fathers with some respect most of the time (note- not complete respect and not all the time), but moms are easy game. It is so easy to be dismissive of them.

In my case, in particular, I think I am a fairly useless daughter- I am not very chatty with my parents, leaving the burden of small talk on them for most part, I shout a lot at my mother when she annoys me- which is often. And yet she finds comfort in my presence, and misses me! It's strange, this mother-love. Why is it so unconditional? Why doesn't it assert itself more, demand more out of the recipient?

It is wishful thinking on my part, that my mother will ever step out her 'mum' role and be herself. It is too late for her- she doesn't have the physical or mental energy, nor indeed the mental capacity. Which is why I always keep wishing for another life for her. All that I can do to make her remaining time on earth better is to be around her, to love her and treat her with respect. Even though it's difficult. But I can at least try. If I don't I will regret being such a shitty daughter, even though she, bless her, will never think of me that way.

Gratitude diaries 33

Who isn't attracted to the US as a college destination? I was no different from scores of other young kids who attended the USEFI information sessions. But I knew that getting scholarship was next to impossible and I would never dream of asking my father to fork out money for tuition fees in dollars. So I let it go. After a few years, in 2006, I tried. I took the GRE with a great score, applied to about ten colleges and was accepted by nearly all of them in a Public Policy programme. But again, no scholarships. So I gave up. In 2007, I accompanied my husband to Kingston in Canada where he enrolled into a second MBA program, in Queens university, as a paid student. He took a loan from a bank for tuition fees, and borrowed money from my dad for living expenses. I was allowed by my visa to work, but my educational qualifications were not acceptable, as they were from India. In an effort that was completely out of my comfort zone, I approached a lot of professors in the Development Studies asking for a job- as a teaching assistant. Some responded and invited me to meet them, other flatly refused. One of the two who invited me, was an Indian and he listened sympathetically to my situation and asked me to send him my CV. He forwarded that to a colleague of his, who was teaching a course on 'AIDS, Power and Poverty' to undergraduate students, and this professor accepted me as a TA, without even interviewing me, based on my CV and my work experience in the field of HIV. Through his agency, I walked into a undergrad classroom in North America for the first time in my life. I loved it. I loved how the students were so polite and actually listened and respected their profs. In India, they can be a rowdy, noisy lot depending on the course and the institute. Most of all, I loved the way things were taught. Prof Mark Epprecht was a historian by education, but through his interest in the field of HIV, he had been given the intellectual freedom by the Development Studies department to create a course on HIV. I thought it was so cool. There was no emphasis on learning by rote. A wide variety of tools was used to drive home the message- films, guest lectures, case studies. All the issues around HIV were captured beautifully in the course, in a clear and easy to understand manner. As the assistant I had to attend all the lectures and then later conduct tutorials after the lectures, in which the concepts taught in the class could be discussed in greater detail. I enjoyed these too. It was, in many ways, the easiest money that I ever earned. I loved how the examinations tested understanding and critical thinking of the students and not merely whether they had memorised the course material. I developed a great deal of respect for the educational system abroad after attending this course. I would love for me kids to be able to study in an institute which follows such pedagogy. It's such a pity that such a brilliant system is wasted on dumb American kids! I know that is totally uncalled for. Thank you DEVS, Prof Mark Epprecht, Prof Ashutosh and all the students who attended my tutorials. I loved learning from you and teaching you and this experience helped to compensate for the unfulfilled dream of studying in an American university.

Gratitude diaries 32

When I look back through these gratitude diaries, I see that my life seems to have been more about receiving. Through friends and family, I have received love, affection, moral support and strength. The episodes when I have been on the giving end, are far fewer. One could say that gratitude is warranted when receiving help, not while giving it. But even giving help serves an important function. It makes you stop thinking of yourself and put other matters or persons at the centre of your existence. By diverting your mind from your troubles, it helps to make them easier to bear. And giving help is not always easy for shy, inward-looking people like me, any more than receiving help is. Maybe that's why, I feel grateful to the small number of people who gave me the chance to help them, either by reaching out to me or just accepting my support when I offered it. I remember when I was in my second year at IIM A, I tried to help the first year girls living in my dorm, especially the two who were doing badly at academics. I did my best to talk them through their blues, and encourage them to hang on, to carry on, the way my seniors had done with me. The need to talk to them helped me often, to break out of my own funk, by reminding myself that others needed me. I remember the girl in one of my jobs, who was going through marital problems and reached out to me for support. Talking to me helped her deal with the stress and I was more than happy to lend her a sympathetic ear. Similarly, I remember one of the girls from Upendra sir's classes, who was going through some family and personal issues, who I tried to support by talking her through her problems. I don't known whether my emotional/moral support achieved any concrete ends in helping them resolve the problems but I know from experience that sometimes just knowing that someone cares enough to listen, is enough to help you make a start to dealing with your problems. So thank you, facchis, the colleague from work, the classmate from Upendra's and any other people I may have missed out. I am grateful that you let me help you.

Gratitude diaries 31

Today I read the title of an article that someone posted on Facebook- it was about a transgender woman getting legally married- and I clicked like. Had I not worked in the field of HIV, I may not have done that. The best part about working in the field of HIV/AIDS was that I met so many kinds of people I would have never met otherwise. From the over-the-top transgender Lakshmi, to the HIV-positive Roma, to the feisty sex-worker Anu to my one gay friend, Shaleen. I have always felt kinship with any group that is marginalised and discriminated. I suppose that this is both personal and a community level feeling- on the personal front, because of my mother's mental illness and the community front- on account of being a Dalit. It was good for me to know how trivial my issues were compared to these brave men, women, or transgenders- who laid themselves open to public contempt and legal punishment to fight for others in their community. They remind me of Ambedkar. I really recommend that people should make an active effort to meet people who are not like them, who are as different from them as possible. Its only then that we realise that these are human beings just like us and that we can always find some common ground with them. Ultimately, there is more that unites people than divides them. Thank you, the field of HIV, for demonstrating this to me. My work in this field has enriched my life and I am really grateful to all the brave people that I met, who are continuing to fight the battles- on personal and on private fronts. God bless you.

Gratitude diaries -30

For someone who enjoys learning, I have made very poor educational choices. I chose to study B.Com for undergrad and I chose to do an MBA for post-grad. I knew even as I was doing it, that Commerce was not for me, that I had no interest in business. I feel sad when I look back and see that instead of sitting in classrooms and listening to interesting lectures, and opening my mind to new disciplines, I was lounging on the parapets of my college with my friends, idly gossiping. Till I was 25 years old, I think the only classes I enjoyed were my French classes at Alliance Francaise (which I attended for one year so that I could get good marks in French at my twelfth board examinations and then blithely abandoned. It was when I turned 26, went on a sabbatical and decided to take the UPSC that I stumbled on the subject that I truly enjoyed, and loved madly, for a time at least- sociology. I have Upendra sir to thank for it. Upendra sir was a stud prof who taught students preparing for the exam. His classes were in Delhi and I lived in Mumbai. So I had to take a break from Mumbai and my husband and go live in Delhi with my sister for four months so I could attend his classes. I remember those four months well. especially his classes. They were held at a basement in a building in Safdarjung enclave. If Delhi was cold in winter, his class was freezing cold. My body would be uncomfortable but my mind was on fire when I attended his classes. Rarely have I felt my brain working so well. Rarely have I felt so comfortable intellectually in a class. More importantly, understanding sociology validated many of my beliefs and values. I could see how my father and Upendra sir held the same values, but Upendra sir could articulate and justify them so much better with his understanding of sociology. It's a little weird but I think that in those classes I had  best time of my life- I was alone, but yet with people, confident in my ability to understand complex concepts and extremely pleased when I could answer difficult questions and got admiration from sir. I even feel nostalgic about the tea I'd have during the break, how good the warmth of it felt, against my numb fingers and going down my throat. Thank you, Upendra sir. I really admire you as a person and as a teacher. Thank you for making me enjoy learning.

Gratitude diaries- 29

For the almost seven years that I spent in FHI, I was part of a team known as M&E- Monitoring and Evaluation grant. In the last three years, I also became a part of another team simultaneously. But M&E remained my comfort zone. The team composition changed a bit while I was there. Old members went, new ones came in. In the beginning, I was a bit scared of not being accepted, of envy from the older, established team members. But after very few hiccups, I was accepted and fitted right in. Rajat had started this ritual of us having afternoon tea together while I was in Delhi. I tried to adhere to this religiously because it gave me a chance to take a break and also interact with the rest of the team, because they were sitting in another room and I was cut off from them. We also would go to the India Islamic Centre for team lunches once in a while.  We were all foodies and most of us enjoyed non-vegetarian food. When I moved to Mumbai, I made frequent trips to Delhi at first. The Delhi team tried to time the team lunches with my visits. I was always given the task of deciding the restaurants and the menu, and inevitably everyone was pleased with my choices. Once, a team member confessed that they all used to wait for my trips, because they knew I would order the most delicious food! My reputation as a foodie was quite strong. There were hardly any undercurrents of jealousy or negativity in the team- maybe because everyone was in their thirties and mature and confident of their skills and worth. We would work together happily and also never stinted in lending our support to the other members when they were overworked or overburdened. Together, under the leadership of Rajat, we accomplished difficult goals and took pride in our collective work. Even when Rajat left, most of the other team members rallied around Lakshmi, who provided leadership. We enjoyed going on retreats once in a year, when there was budget for it. I feel very lucky to have been part of a supportive and co-operative team like M&E, thinking about who leaves a warm glow in my heart even now. Thank you, M&E team- you were the best!