Sabitri Brata 2025

 Today (in India) and tomorrow (in USA) is the festival of SABITRI which is mostly exclusive to Odisha (there could be slightly different versions elsewhere, but it's kind of unique to Odisha). It is widely celebrated on the New Moon day of the Lunar month of JYESHTA, which per Gregorian calendar comes anywhere between mid May to mid June every year (it is to be noted that the Hindu festivals are celebrated per Lunar Calendar). 

On this day married women pray for the long life and well being of their husbands. You can call Sabitri an Odia version of "Husband's day" though no such day exists in the Western world, the closest would be Valentine's day. In our PURANAs (ancient religious texts), it is mentioned that a young man named  SATYABAN died a sudden, unnatural death. His wife SABITRI who was a SATI (the pious and chaste one), ardently  prayed Lord YAMA (God of death) to restore her husband's life. Gratified by her devotion and penance, Lord YAMA duly obliged. Her husband woke up to life as if he just woke up from his sleep.

Following this mythology our ladies do UPABAASA (fasting) on this auspicious day eating frugally; surviving mostly on fruits and yogurt. Parents send SABITRI BHARA (the gift bucket for Sabitri) to their married daughters, which apart from SINDOOR (vermillion) and Bangles symbolizing long marital life also contains a wide array of fruits, including but not limited to locally grown tropical fruits like Mango, Banana, Jackfruit, Lichi, Guava, Date, Palm and Pinapple. Now a days non native fruits, a la Apples, Oranges and Grapes have added taste and veriety to the traditional ones.

The presence of a SABITRI BHARA inside house can be identified by the  conspicuously strong scent of ripened Jackfruits, which are in season at this time of the year and can be smelt miles away. The jungles of Odisha are filled with Jackfruit trees and it is not unusual for this large size fruits cluster around the bottom of the tree, protruding from tree trunh like the sagging fat of a Sumo wrestler. Bears and Jackles who get attracted by their smell love to feast on them.

The downside of this festival is the prices of fruits and SAREEs (traditional attire of Indian women) skyrocket days before the festival, both due to their demand and hoarding by nefarious  merchants. Glad I don't face same situation here in USA as the prices of fruits are no different from any other day. Last few years there was low key celebration of Sabitri due the nationwide lockdown imposed as a preventive measure against Covid pandemic. 

This year, this day falls on a weekday. If it happens on a weekend and my Sabitri is too tired to cook dinner for me, the SATYABAN doesn't shy away from SHURAPAAN (help myself with few sundowner) and order take out of some exotic dish to end the auspicious day. Happy "Sabitri Brata" to all ladies.

Birthday blog 2025

 Thanks everyone for your wonderful birthday wishes. Completely flabbergasted, floored and flattered, pleasantly overwhelmed by multiple number of birthday wishes on social media and still counting. Thanks for those being so creative to create a story for me on Facebook for this occasion. I can only write crap, can't be creative like you all.

Not much of a milestone commemorative type of person, for me my birthday and marriage anniversary is just another day. This year's birthday was no exception. On top of that, on a sombre note it came at a time a year from my mother's passing away. It will be my second birthday without her to whom I owe my existence. She would invariably be the first person to call and wish me, reminiscing about that very day more than half a century ago. Her is the wish I am going to miss forever for the rest of my life. 

Per Western Astrology I have the same zodiac Sun sign Gemini as every one else who is born between May 21 and June 20. Geminians are considered to be good communicators and tend to be popular in social circles. At the same time Geminians are known to be fickle, restless and mercurial in nature. It is the sign of twins. Apart from other Geminians they get well along with Librans and Aquarians. 

On a lighter note Geminians tend to be popular among opposite sex, the famous Geminian examples are John F Kennedy, my teenage crush Brooke Shields, Clint Eastwood, Marilyn Monroe, Angelina Jolie just vindicate this fact. Not necessarily all Geminians are Casanova, but many I know having this star sign end up in love marriages (a term used in India for those marrying after falling in love or in self negotiated marriages). Being a girl shy person, I am probably an exception to this very Geminian rule.

During my childhood, on our birthdays my mom would pray and cook KHEER (a sweet dish) for us siblings. An additional luxury could be a special dish from her kitchen. Those days birthdays were tame affairs sans balloons, cake cuttings or any kind of fanfare. It's still the same for me. We grew up in a collective society where our identity is more qualified by lineage, village, caste, community and so on (many South Indians and Punjabis have their village names tagged to their name. For example - for P. Ravi Kumar, P could be the first initial of the man's native village. For a Sikh named Jagjit Singh TALWANDI, the last part is the name of his PIND, or village). I or Me as an individual always came last after the society, village, city or district. Unlike the current generation, it was the norm for most parents of our time to have more than two kids. On top of that many lived in joint families who shared the same roof and celebrated thirteen festivals in twelve months. Birthdays of an individual rarely made into the priority list, always put in the back burner.  

But things in India are changing fast with rapid urbanization. The bonding built as a result of long term fusion of Nuclear families is fast dissipating by fission. DINK (Double Income No Kids) and DITK (Double Income Two Kids) is the new normal, prominently proclaimed by rise in birthday celebrations as the harbinger of neo individualism. While I hardly celebrate my birthday, my son plans ahead for months to celebrate his. It is quite understandable. For him growing up in America where individualism rules the roost, his birthday is a matter of celebration.  

No wonder in US they make a big deal about Birthdays. Years back one fine morning no sooner I entered my work place, than I found it nicely decorated with balloons proclaiming "HAPPY 50th BIRTHDAY". Half dozen teammates barged in, singing an impromptu Happy B'day song. A cake was cut. I had my few minutes of celebrity fame. They gave me a funny card signed with something like "Why Men Turn Naughty After Fifty" printed on it. (Americans make a lot of fuss about celebrating birthdays, liberally punching them with dosages of humor. We in India are fast catching up). 

I forced myself a smile by fully exposing my phalanx of my 32 teeth and took a snap with them. Yet it was a stark reminder that being 50 in Chemistry lingo I have already reached the half life period, a la radioactive elements. In ancient India at this age people use to take VANAPRASTA (preparation towards retirement). In modern age life begins after middle age. 

Thanks again for your birthday wishes. As my mother wasn't there to wish me, for her wish was the one I always long for and I still can hear her wish from heaven. Let me yet again repeat this stanza from the famous Mukesh song in movie "MERA NAAM JOKER" dedicated to her :

"CHAHE KAHI BHI TUM RAHO,

CHAHENGE TUM KO UMR BHAR

TUM KO NA BHOOL PAENGE".. 

Roughly transliterated... 

"Wherever you are going to live,

I will long for you all my life,

Shall Never be able to forget you"....

The short lived Indo-Pak war

 I haven't written a single blog about the recently concluded short but not sweet war between India and its belligerent neighbor Pakistan. With so much blogs, reels, articles short and long flooding the social media, not to be left behind, I scribbled something for the FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) factor. 

Truth is the first casualty of war. Now as the dust settles down after the 3 day skirmish where the foot soldiers of both nations stayed within the limit, both warring sides started taking credit for outright victory. Pakistan lied to its teeth claiming to have downed multiple Indian fighter jets, including India's famed Rafael which costs nearly $250 million a piece. Indian media went to the extent of announcing India's occupation of POK (Pakistan Occupied Kashmir), followed by collapse of Lahore and Rawalpindi while our Naval ships were busy bombing the hell out of Karachi. The Pakistani Army Chief Asim Munir shat in his pants and was deposed. The social media amplified it. For a moment I thought it was true and Indian soldiers have reached Iran border, until a few hours later I found out that these were fabricated lies. 

I am sure the same was happening on the Pakistani side of the house. This gave fodder to Western media, mostly liberal, which has its share of bias against India to hyphenate India - Pakistan. These liberal media reeking with double standards still cling to their traditional narrative of calling terrorists who attack Israel as terrorists, but those who kill innocents in India as gunmen. The West in general and America is particular still loves to equate between India and Pakistan as equals, treating them two recalcitrant kids who fight. We, both India and Pakistan spectacularly fall in line as a la the Headmaster of Elimentary School chastises two fighting students to fall in the line, or else.... 

Unfortunately, not a single country came to the rescue of India or took it sides, whereas China, Turkey and Azerbaijan (does its support matter ?) came out openly in  support of Pakistan, rest preferring to stay neutral because of their geopolitical compulsions. Turkey supplied Pakistan a ship filled with drones whereas China tested its weapons given to its vassal country. China, not known to speak truth went to the extent of celebrating its Air to Air missile from the J - Series Fighter planes it has sold to Pakistan successfully downing at least one of India's prized Rafael Fighter jets. Chinese TikTok reels flooded social media poking fun at India. The truth only God knows. 

But the truth is America was able to broker a ceasefire between Delhi and Islamabad in a short time. Ideally India should have taught Pakistan a lesson rather than agreeing to the ceasefire too fast, too soon. America on the other hand, in spite of Modi holding the hands of "my Fraand Doland", uttering loudly "Ab Ki Baar Trump Sarkar" (next time it's Trump's government) in much published "Howdy Modi" in Texas, followed by showering Trump with hundreds of thousands of flower petals in Ahmedabad, refused to side with India. Rather it stayed neutral and worked in the background to bring the ceasefire between the battling nations. Typical of Trump, before the ceasefire was confirmed by either India or Pakistan, he twitted in Truth Social taking credit for the ceasefire which went viral in quick seconds. Many in India came to know about the American mediated ceasefire from Trump's tweet before it was officially announced by GOI (Government of India). 

Now we see lull after the storm with every political party worth its salt is trying to make the most political capital out of it and factions on social media boxing with each other. This ceasefire is very fragile. Another terror attack on Indian soil will definitely lead to a more vigorous and devastating attack by India on Pakistan. And it could get ugly, really ugly the next time.

Americanized Odia names

What's in a name ? "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet" - William Shakespeare wrote in Romeo and Juliet. 

Shakespeare was so ahead of time when he mentioned it in the 16th century. The personality of a person is entirely personal, with his or her name hardly playing any role in it. I know an untruthful guy named SATYABRATA who came out as a congenial liar to the core, a plain looking girl named "TRIPURA SUNDARI (Universal Beauty)". A Beggar was named as KUBERA (the Hindu God of wealth), a man dying at an early age bore the name JEEVAK (Long life). A person with the name SUBUDHI (Good thoughts) should have ideally be named DURBUDHI (Bad thoughts) - his name proved to be a misnomer as his mind was filled with filth. 

Back home in India, we grew up in a collective society where our identity is often qualified by our lineage, village, caste, community etc etc. Names got influence by it. Most South Indians and many Punjabis have their villages tagged to their names. For example, for a P. Ravi Kumar, P could be the first initial of his native village somewhere in South India. A Sikh Jagjit Singh TALWANDI, the last part being the name of his PIND - village. We, as an individual entity always come last. 

Most South Indian Hindus from my generation have at least a God or Goddess's name embedded in their own. There is hardly a name without Ram, Laksman, Lakshmi, Parvati, Krishna, Gopal, Shiva, Srinivas, Ganesh, Karthik, Murugappan or a combination of some of these. Some have all Gods in one name, e.g, Laxman Shivaramakrishnan.

During one monsoon, no sooner my flight took off from Calcutta than violent air turbulence engulfed it. The agnostic in me now remembered God instantly and came up the name of the cricketer "Laxman Shiva Ramkrishnan" to my mind. The nervous passenger in me started chanting his name which comes with all premier Gods name in a Combo package. Before I could finish uttering my chant 108 times, the flight was preparing for its descent at the  Bhubaneswar Airport.

In olden days, half of the kids used to die before they reached the age of 5 in an age when there was no vaccination to kill harmful micro bugs before they kill you. If one of these diseases Tetanus, Polio, Whooping Couph, Diptheria, Malaria, Flue won't get you, the dreaded Cholera or Small Pox would. In Odisha it was superstitiously believed that Lord Yama, the Hindu God of death ignores the kids with mundane names as he prefers to take children with catchy, fancy, attractive names. So parents used to give avoidable names as AINTHA (Miss Messy Food-Leftover), GOBARAA (Mr. Cow Dung), BALUNGA (Mr. Weed), POCHARA (Mr. Dirty Rotten) and so on. Not sure if Lord Yama obliged.

Time flew and many Odias developed wings to fly to faraway lands as Europe, Australia and of course the farthest and most attractive destination for immigration - The United States of America. But they never imagined their names would go through distortion which Lord Yama would yet again love to ignore.

Here is a list of such names along with their American / Anglicized ones which the westerners find hard to pronounce. 

Pitambara - Pitt
Nityananda - Nit
HarishChandra - Harry
Dhananjay - Dan
Dinabandhu - Dean
Krupasindhu - Krip
Narayana - Nora
Nabaghana - Nab
Nilamadhab - Neel
Pradipta Kumar - PK
Satyajit - Satty
Debasis - Dave
Krishnamurthy - Krish
Radhakrushna - Reed
Jagannath - Jaggs
Nikunja - Nick
Markandeswar - Mark
Bichitrananda Patnaik - Did'nt want to go with the shortened version of his first name "Bitch", preferring a shortened form of his last name Pat, thankfully not by a truncated version of his first name.

Dambarudhara Patra - Similar situation here Prefers to be called Pat, not Damb, which sounds like dumb.

So, what's in a name ?

 
 
 

Happy Mother's Day 2025

There is a song from Amitabh Bachchan's blockbuster movie "KHUDDAR" released in the year 1982 where the tall actor who was the unquestioned Superstar, the King and the one man Bollywood industry sings onscreen Kishore Kumar's song - 

"MAA KA PYAAR, BEHAN KYA PYAAR,

KABHI KABHI DULHAN KYA PYAR,

TERE PYAAR KA RANG HAZAAR". 

Roughly transliterated... 

"Mother's love, Sister's love,

Sometimes the love of the beloved,

Their love comes in thousand colors". 

Women's day this year reminded me of this song from my teenage years. The love of mother is in its purest form, precious and unadulterated, like the clear Spring water bubbling out of the top of a glacial mountain. It is perennially pristine, unequivocally soothing, unwavering and unflinching. When I went to India, my mother's hug and caressing hands felt so soothing, something I long for days, months and sometimes years. Mother's love is panacea to all ills plaguing mind and body, heart and soul. Unfortunately she is no more and I am yet to get over the loss and probably never will. No wonder the vacuum from the loss of mother about a year ago still haunts me, the lacunae in my heart remaining  unfilled. 

Few years back around this time of the year when I spoke to my mother in India, I told her that the recent heavy rains had filled the creek behind my house. I saw a lot of frogs in my backyard and  occasionally few snakes to complete the food chain. As usual in a concerned voice she advised me to be careful and pray Lord Siva to keep the slithery beast away.

Teasing her mildly (as we often take this liberty with our mothers, though we rarely take the same with our fathers) I said - "Mummy, we all know Lord Siva has a stranglehold over Cobra, not sure if he has the same control over the snakes of America. Sanskrit SLOKAs (hymn) won't work here. Southern American accent filled prayers and sermons from the local Methodist church might help in keeping the snake away." As usual she interrupted to chastise me, "Stop teasing and take my advise seriously. I will pray for you to Lord Siva to keep you safe from those PODA MUHA (Burnt Face) "Rattle SAAPA (snake)". The depth of her love to me is unfathomable. 

Whenever I go home, she puts an Igloo shaped mound of rice on my lunch plate, telling - "TU PETA PURA KARI KHAUNU, JHADI GALUNI (you are not eating stomach full and losing weight), though there was hardly any visible sign of my weight loss. For her, this hemispherical shaped lump of rice on plate should be high, high enough for its tip to touch the legs of a cat trying to jump over it. That's her unit of measurement of quantity of food for keeping her son's stomach fulfilled. 

When I insist on reducing the amount of rice, suggesting that intake of extra carbohydrate would add unwanted extra amount of flab to my waist, my mother vehemently disputes it - "TORA SWASTYA TIKE HEICHI, TATE MOTA KIE KAHUCHI ?" "You are little healthy, how dare someone calls you fat" ? Like all mothers from our generation, gaining weight by their son is a matter of pride.  

A chubby chap is known as "KHAIBA PIBA GHARA PILA" (in Odia) or KHANE PINE KA GHAR KA LADKA (in Hindi) - meaning a boy from a well to do family who liberally spends on food. (In India a SWYASTAWALA or healthy son earns accolades for the daughter-in-law for feeding the son well. On the other hand a slim husband can earn the wrath of the mother-in-law for not feeding her son enough). 

She used to advise me - "BARSA RE ODA HABUNI, THANDA DHARIBA" - Don't get drenched in the rain, lest you catch a cold. If she ever found out that I have a fever, she would advise me to eat Apples and LUNI BISCUIT (Saltine crackers, similar to the RITZ crackers, popularly consumed during fever during my childhood as it titillates numbed taste buds) and eat PAUNRUTI (sliced bread) dipped in warm milk. She still treated me like a 10 year old. Though I am way past that and in the middle of my middle age, her love was unwavering and eternal. No matter how far I am from her, her unadulterated love and concern for me never ever ebbed. I had complete faith on her devotion. Now that I have outsourced my well being to her I could roam freely in my backyard and get on with my life.  

Motherly instinct isn't just limited to humans. It extends to the animal world too. Not just cats, cows, tigers and lions - the snakes too are very protective of their little ones. Other day on Discovery Channel I was watching a female King Cobra hatching her eggs she just laid. She could sense intrusion from the anchor and the camera person. Protective and insecure the 15 feet long Queen Cobra raised her hood to a height of 5 feet, hissing furiously. The anchor was cautious - "We aren't carrying any anti-venom. Need to be very careful here. This protective mother is pissed off with us uninvited guests trying to get closer to her eggs she is succintly protecting. One bite from this angry mom Queen Cobra will inject a gargantuan amount of neurotoxin into the bloodstream, potent enough kill 20 of us in few minutes. We stand no chance". All mothers are same, protective and their children's well being being their topmost priority. HAPPY MOTHERS DAY !!!

Return to US - India trip 2025

 More than twelve percent of all commercial pilots in India are women, highest percentage in the world. This is credible because the number of commercial aircraft and pilots in India is substantial. 

On my flight from Bhubaneswar to Delhi I met a lady passenger whose final destination like me wasn't Delhi, she was travelling enroute to Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania, Africa. Sitting next to me she asked in Hindi if I am an Odia. I replied - "MU SOLA ANA ODIA" (I am a 24 carat Odia). She was travelling with her little girl as she was visiting home for summer holidays. Her husband works as a Chartered Accountant in the African nation of Tanzania. 

The lady asked me where I live and what I do for a living. I replied - "I live in USA and work in IT (Information Technology)". "Wow", she said. It seems I initially raised her curiosity, now suddenly got her attention. "APANA TA HELE SETHI SERVICE KARANTI, "So you work over there ! (In Odia the term service is often synonymous with job"), she continued. "Yes", was my response. 

Our tete a tete continued. I have encountered many NROs (Non Resident Odias) who live in North America, Middle East, Far East and Australia, never one from Africa. It was my turn to ask questions. I asked her how many Odias live in Tanzania. "A very small community. Unlike a large number of Gujjus (Gujaratis) who live there, only about 60 odd Odia families are there in Dar-es-Salaam, the capital of Tanzania". I asked - "With such a small community the Odias over there must be an united bunch". No, she laughed. We are a divided house, split rightly in the middle into two groups. My husband who is a Chartered Accountant Odia caught the guy in the leadership position of local Odia association red handed swindling money, exposing the misappropriation of money at the local Sri Jagannath temple. Though Rath Yatra is held every year, last year it was a damp squib due to persistent internal bickering amongst Odias. In America the Odias are educated lots. They must be united and not involved in dirty politics like the Odias in Tanzania. 

"Yes and No", I chucked back. Yes, most Odias in America are educated with degrees from cherished institutes in India and abroad. No, because the politics amongst them can put others to shame, even in Temples across the United States which should be free from mean, nefarious activities are citadels of nasty politics. The Odia society in Tanzania is split into two. That's not too bad, considering the Odias in USA are divided into 2 or even more than 2 in city in America - big or small. There are goodnumber of groups and subgroup in certain states, large enough to organize a cricket match. My last sentence made her laugh. 

She continued talking about Tanzania. You know, it's a wonderful country with salubrious climate. The weather is neither hot nor cold all throughout the year, though of late it is starting to get hotter. I said - "that's probably because the politics amongst Odias there is getting hotter, impacting the weather there". She laughed again and commented - "You have a good sense of humor". When two Odias talk there is invariably discussion about good. She continued - "All kinds of Indian vegetables are available in Tanzania except "POTALA" (Parval or Pointed Gourd), a popular Odia vegetable. However the scarcity of POTALA is compensated abundance of another Odia favorite "Mutton" or Goat meat which is cheaper than chicken as goats are raised aplenty in that African nation. The Odias over there do an Utkal Diwas and Rath Yatra program, followed by a picnic on sea beach once in a year, I said - "We Odias in America apart from what you do, we do Saraswati and Ganesh Puja, Holi and Diwali in addition". "Hun... that's a whole lot of event", she responded. "Well, the more the events, more seeds of groupism it sown and spread, as familiarity breeds contempt" - I replied impromptu. She nodded in agreement. 

A sudden burst of air turbulence shook the flight. The announcement came on air asking passengers to fasten their seat belts. A few recalcitrant ones stood up, tiptoeing through the narrow aisle in between the seats trying to keep themseves steady. The Airhostess politely checked the lady's little daughter who was fast asleep and told her mom to fasten the kid's seatbelt. But she wasn't very polite to these errand passengers still loitering around. In a soft yet firm voice she told them to go back to their seats.

It didn't take very long before the short flight from Bhubaneswar to Delhi was over. As the flight descended, the houses looked like a colony of fireflies dispersed in a large concrete jungle. The string of cars on roadways looked like yellowish red Lava flowing from an actively erupting volcano. I bid adieu to the lady and her little daughter as I headed to pickup my luggage from the baggage claim area and proceed to the International gate. 

In life such encounters in train, plane and automobiles rarely last long. It reminds me of a passage from our epic Hindu scripture BHAGVAT GEETA - two logs floating in the middle of Ocean collide with each other, to get separated forever, never ever to meet again. Back of my mind I knew, the same awaits me after the rendezvous with many of whom I am sure I am destined not to meet them ever again. 

The Doha to Atlanta flight on Qatar Airways was 14 hour long. The food was good, but the seats in cattle class (economy class) were crammy. To make the situation worse, I was in a window seat, the other two adjacent seats were occupied by two Amazonian women. It was an herculean talks for them to get up and let me go whenever I needed a break during the 14 hour long flight. I decided to watch movies and take a nap, using this opportunity to take a detox break cut off from social media.

Back in Georgia to a cool and breezy, late evening temperature of 80°F (27°Centigrade). It would be early morning in India. Already miss the humming of mosquitoes and brutally clapping them to death, the yodelling of mongrels in middle of night. The crispy air of Georgia felt refreshingly fresh as I stepped out of the Airport. It felt odd not to hear a single vehicle honking on my 100 miles (160 km) road trip from Atlanta to Columbus. Miss the din and bustle, crowd and the continous kickee...kickkee..kickee...of bikes yonking horn and slicing their way through the traffic - the ubiquitous jerk on the road and the bumpy rides, the roads being too smooth for comfort to my back here. No place under sun can match India in the richness of flora, fauna, chaos and characters to write about. Often chaos and disorder brings the fun and frolic out of life rather than orderly tidiness. 

Traveled nearly 15,000 miles toing and froing between my family in United States and India. Felt sad to bid adieu to ndia, happy to get back to my family, the daily grind in Georgia. Left India with Jai Jagannath in mind, back with "Georgia in my mind" - to echo the famous song by Ray Charles. I have two hearts, India and USA, separated by 7 seas and 13 rivers, united by the bond of love. Rooted strongly in both, I am rooting for both. Though I love United States, my adopted home, like first love in life India is and always will be close to my heart. Thus concludes my travelog to India this year.