And one can only hope they will be one day. Well at least we have one. Who I wouldn’t mind being in ‘any room with’. Like his character (Avinash)  in ‘Bombay Talkies’ said about Randeep Hooda’s character ( who also I wouldn’t mind being in any room with, whether he is Sahib or Gangster ).

I first saw ‘Mujhse Fraaindship Karoge’, which is probably Saqib’s first movie in chronological order, quite a while after its release (the title didn’t sound very promising, plus all new cast, is usually too much of hedging. I stand corrected). The movie was not bad, definitely a topological topic ( of social interactions in the wake of social networking sites, like my favorite Facebook). The new guy (Saqib) never once tried to take his shirt off, or rip it off or take it off and rip it. Yet, he had smooth moves (in dancing and otherwise) and obviously wasn’t hiding fat under the clothes (which for the longest time has been the only reason Bollywood stars and starlets would avoid being shirtless).

His delivery is smooth and contained, comic timing, flawless. I have not seen that in a long time, since I would have to say ‘Hera Pheri’ and Paresh Rawal ( Saqib is not quite there yet, but he is  a kid and Paresh Rawal is a veteran). There is no doubt the kid is a natural. When he laughs it doesn’t seem like he is choking on a pebble that is trying to come out of his nose. Its a good hearty or sarcastic or knowing laugh- whatever the scene demands. Also, MFK didn’t try too hard to kick and prod you into laughing. So over all.. I found a new interesting actor, but the movie dissolved in my mind.

Then more recently I saw Mere dad ki Maruti.. I couldn’t actually remember where I had seen the guy in the first scene. But seeing the absence of shirtlessness, even amidst pelvic thrusts and one, slightly-over-the -top dance number, I recalled another actor in another movie like that, and indeed, it was the very same guy. Now, I will never forget him. MDKM, overall was not bad. The female leads really need to either develop some character that doesn’t have such blank eyes and call themselves ‘Chandigarh ki Shakira’, like that is something that deserves an award, or just simply shut up. To be fair to the character, it ( I mean she) did try to redeem herself later, but by then it was too late. Ram Kapoor is good as always, and looking at Saqib you won’t know he wasn’t born in a punjabi household. Nothing great or a must watch, but what I would call a ‘can’ watch, over, say, Friends-with-benefits, Friends-having-babies-together (as the benefit), Friends-with-extra-benefits, Benefits-and-Friends and Friends-who-basically-sleep-with-everyone OR High-school-girls who just can’t seem to get enough and yet show the heart to fall for a nerdy- invisible-geek.

Bombay Talkies, on the other hand is actually a well made film with four different YET appropriate stories about how movies and Bollywood has affected different parts, personalities and people of India. Saqib or Avinash’s story is the first one where he is gay and is strongly attracted to his boss’s husband ( Ranbeer Hooda, a newsreader). I would be remiss to forget to mention Rani Mukherjee (married to Randeep Hooda , Saqib’s boss, works in a tabloid magazine) who is as good an actor as Bollywood has ever produced and then destroyed mercilessly. However, she has more mettle than her contemporaries and can take a challenging and small role and make you want to kill all the Karan Johar’s and Aditya Chopras who just make movies that have no soul.  Imagine my surprise when I discovered that Karan Johar, in fact, had directed this short story and I have to say, it was good. Karan Johar also did perhaps the first mainstream movie, again with Rani, about extra marital affairs being less than evil ( Kabhi alvida na kehna), he tries to be different, I think, maybe he tries too hard and wants commercial success as well, I don’t know, he never seemed even average to me, as a director. But this story was very well handled, I thought. Hooda is in denial about being gay, but Saleem senses his attraction to him and in fact, immediately sets about getting it straight with Rani and Hooda. Their attraction is fortified by their love of old Hindi film music, something that encompasses them in their own sphere, as a little girl sings their favorite old song ( Lag ja gale..se, se). I think the singing by the very talented child singer was a sweet and unusual angle, but the background score should have been a little older person, the song is way too mature and poignant for a child, other than being my favorite too..

Since this post is not about the movie, I will not detail the other three stories, which were also very well made, Nawazuddin Siddiqui, thankfully no longer requires an introduction or any praises. He will and has done for Indian theatre actors what had been owed to them for ages and not paid. He will no doubt extract that in full and more.. Despite the imminent and perennial danger of being type-casted, his Temur lang ( in an otherwise lack -lustre movie, Talaash) is a character I will never forget. Speaking of Talaash, I think Rani Mukherjee did real justice to her character of a distraught mom, looking for any form of hope.

Coming back to Saqib, the boy can cry. He doesn’t look like he is trying hard to strangle a cat, while whistling , when he does that ( in case people don’t get who I am talking about in all these references to shirtless, style and character less actors who cannot do comedy or cry and definitely cannot dance, it is usually Salman Khan, though the contrived shirtlessness is now an epidemic). When Saqib (Avinash) gets angry and you feel the tension between his egotistic, willfully ignorant and bully of a dad and him, on the issue of him being gay and his imploding frustration. He is outrageous with his boss, yet you feel  his nervousness and anxiety about her reaction and possibility of acceptance, towards him and his sexual orientation. From the chemistry in the music room between Hooda and Saleem to Rani’s deliverance from feelings of subconscious inferiority, the scenes were quite moving. A definite step in the forward direction for Indian Cinema. I hate using oft used phrases- but when Hooda kisses Saleem ( yes, they even show that), sparks do fly and it doesn’t seem apologetic or superfluous at all.

Saqib Saleem, please don’t change. You are a sight for sore eyes, an oasis in the desert and while I am undoubtedly going overboard- maybe that is needed to finally make Bollywood what it could be. One Nawazuddin or Paresh Rawal can’t seem to get the job done. Join ranks with the gangsta’s like Randeep Hooda. While I am at it, Saqib ji, kya aap ‘Mujhe Fraaindship Karoge?’

  

If there is such a thing, I wonder what it would be for me, or for ‘a’ person. Some claim it is youth, but I have seen more youthful old people than youthful youths. Here I have to say that when G.B. Shaw said, “Youth is wasted on the young” , or perhaps it was ‘Youth is a wonderful thing. What a crime to waste it on children’, he was right, and probably not very young.

I am not saying this because I think young people are fools, I made most of my good decisions when I was relatively young. I don’t particularly think I was youthful then, but that is besides the point (or maybe it is the point). I am relating youthfulness to being more prone to taking chances, following whims and fantasies. I think the decisions we make while young, are much more critical and life changing. Where one wrong one, can really do you in. A few right ones can bring you to a position where you get to be youthful- this time without misadventures causing you more than what you bargained for or even knew what you were bargaining..

Its not avoiding mistakes when you are young, its taking the time to learn from them and from others’ mistakes and not forgetting in a moment of youthful carelessness. Obviously anyone who is so inclined cannot be youthful all the time.

Maybe like most things worth having, youthfulness should also be earned, not be an entitlement (even if most healthy young people may have it). That gives you something to look forward to, too. So take more chances later- but not so late that you are bound to a way of life. That would be a waste of the entitled youth and the one you worked for. If you live in the US, you must know people who either married too full of youthful love at a very young age, or gave in to all kinds of youthful experiments and by the time the were 30, you won’t believe looking at them that they had ever been the spirited young people, they must have been. In India and probably most other places in the world, youthfulness is often forgotten completely, because we get only one or two chances to get it right, if we don’t do those right, there is no hope of being youthful. Society won’t let you. Again, you can still earn it, by not letting other people tell you what you are ( or are not, i.e., successful).

Add up all the good decisions (figuratively speaking) and balance with whimsical turns and stakes later.

I love the look of old metal- it worked better when it was new for sure, but it hadn’t built character- and now even if it doesn’t do what it was meant to do, it did the right thing for long enough to stay there and look poetic in its old age. There is a reason those years are called golden.

So which ones are the best years.. if you are old enough to know what you are asking, when you ask yourself when yours will be, it is the ones you are living now. No time to waste.

Let me end with my recent favorite G.B.S. quote ( it may not be exact):

‘Life is not about finding yourself, it is about creating yourself’

This weekend we went to Branson, MO (The Las Vegas of Missouri, no less). We went on a dinner cruise with a variety show. There was a boy-man band, a magician who was the comedian and host,  a violinist who was also an aerialist ( who can play a violin while perching/ hanging upside down or sideways, on two silk ropes). Very interesting and entertaining. The kind of shows meant to entertain people on face value. Without the snobbish requirement of cultured learning and the effort one must undertake to truly understand, say, Opera, or be able to afford the tickets for a family of 5 to Broadway.

Just the kind of thing I profess to stay away from and it is true that  I never intend to go to Las Vegas. It is not because I don’t think the entertainers here are any less valuable or less talented. It is more like they think so themselves and bend over backwards trying to prove themselves wrong, or …right. I don’t think any artist of any kind has it easy, even if they are natural born stars. I imagine that this progression to visually stimulating and gaudy shows, from what they no doubt hoped would be the next big thing in LA or NYC, is hard and heart breaking for some. But they still get to do what they love or once loved and they can actually make a living that’s not just pennies. Branson was actually not so bad, because it probably is more family oriented and doesn’t look like a haunted city during the day.

I wonder what a Julliard graduate feels when they have to up their art, with a spectacle. Something that has given them spectacular muscle and flexibility ( which in itself is an added advantage in this case). I have heard of several types of strange acts in Vegas, I don’t think I will ever see any first hand. It makes me sad. I don’t know why. I think I would just like to believe that the people who are trying to make the audience happy, are also happy themselves. As we all know, I am obsessed with happiness. ( seriously)

I am no Ayn Rand who believed that the profession or art was an end to itself, for only a few in millions have that gift and the opportunity to use it. Without the right stage, genius dies unfulfilled. Maybe of malnutrition, even.

Then I wondered about why people moved across a country, across the globe. Looking for that right stage, where even they, will be genius. It is all relative after all, so in NYC you were one of thousands of aspiring artists. In Branson, you are a hit. In China you are simply one more hard working individual with little respect for your own rights and comfort, in the US, you are one hell of a worker. In India, the average American girl is beautiful because she is pale. The Kenyans run marathons leaving every other country behind, in western countries. It is all relative, so must be a place for everyone where they shine. So what of the geniuses no one has heard of? Or even of the ones we know now, but were ridiculed when they were alive. Why did they not find their stage?

Why is it, that people move?

Spring stalactites.. on the holly bush in front of our door. They were melting and reforming pretty quickly.. The water drops at the tip of the one in the middle. It has remnants of the past winter cold and the expectation of spring freshness..The promise of future with the fragrance of the past.

I still love him and I still watch the show when I can, he still is very good indeed. If anything, he may even be better. ‘Creative’ directors of the show are doing a good job of dressing him up and I like his new  attire too. I like the new version of nanhi ( no I mean the other little girl, whose name is Rimjhim? I can’t remember exactly).The show, NBTNMKK, in its second season is more popular than ever, I think.

Its like everything is falling into place for them, especially KKK, people even recognize him by name and not just his character. He is the most eligible bachelor on TV. Certainly has more fans in the present than the other Kunal Kapoor, who seems to have vanished. The glory of one movie can only take you so far and the box office is very unforgiving, after all. And I have this strange urge to stop right here and write no more.

So, why do I sound slightly upset. Well I am not. Not slightly, I mean. It is another matter that what I think or not about a TV show is so insignificant in the whole plan of the universe, and no ones appointed me to be made a good judge anyway. But hey! see above, this is my blog. Just like NBT is their show and if they choose to make it a parody of what it once was, it is their choice and they at least have the TRPs to support them now.

My issue in general is with the masses, who are the same people who supported Anna Hazare and then lost interest and didn’t really know what they were supporting anyway, the same people who apparently are qualified to vote for who makes the real decisions for my country. For them needing everyone to follow a certain recipe for melodrama, to get an identity, that actually strips away an actor/ director/ writer’s core soul (if it existed). Who simply like such mind numbing stories that should clearly make them, well, soporific. Here she brings out the neuroscientist card, some people may think, who have read my blog previously. No, seriously, I am a failed neuroscientist at the best of times. My thesis research has not even been published yet. So I cannot use the card of being ‘smart’. I don’t want to. I want to use the card of being sane. Of appreciating quality, of not settling for anything less.

Then why do I still watch the show or appreciate KKK? That’s a good question. He doesn’t even reply to me anymore ( the fact that he did at all was surprising, and i have not tried to contact him in a long time). I gave up watching Grey’s Anatomy three years ago, and for all intents and purposes, at least their cases were clearly based on research/clinical papers, the surgeons might live in a soap opera, but you couldn’t find fault in the technicalities. I couldn’t, at least. Now NBT has made a joke of every investigative journalist, alive, sorry Steve Coll, or dead. It was okay while it was just a side track in the first season, after all, he was a journalist for a small town newspaper, and did in fact get shot.

Now, it is the main part of the story as the editor in chief of a news channel ( okay, I agree, ha ha, they are all pretty crappy in real life and thrive on over dramatization), hardly has any work. I think they intend to portray some form of ‘Stockholm syndrome’ in addu, where he believes that his kidnappers actually care for him, more than his ‘step’ father ( SERIOUSLY, how does anyone think it is credible to bring this Victorian theme today?). Again, its not going to be technically accurate or worth getting into. I understand that such psychological intricacies are usually not meant for the general public ( only in India, though). After the episode about Munna and Addu- It appears that they are looking for a different angle and I would like to say that it is purely ‘vengeance’ for a best friend, but I am sure there is some or the other twist involved that is not Stockholm syndrome.. which, even if tenuous, would at least have made some sense and is actually seen in the real world. Not that vengeance is not, and kids do run away all the time.. But I have yet to meet one that would prefer to do dishes in some railway station than go back home to his ‘real’ mother, and his grandparents. Or why if he was being held against his wish, he would continue to blame his step father instead of the kidnappers and not go back at any opportunity. Grrr..Why am I editing this?? Well.. I dreamed of KKK last night, and maybe he wanted me to, or something.

I know why I watch the show, though, because KKK is doing what all Indian ( and otherwise, all mediocre) actors do, you have to give the masses what they want, to do what you like and continue doing it. And potentially, all you can do anyway. You can’t be picky, because out of sight is indeed out of mind for TV viewers, so might as well continue on a show that gave you a good opportunity. That still rides on you, mainly, has built a large number of followers, who are not all soporific ( cough cough..). Why not?

From previous history it is known that Mr. Kapoor didn’t do whatever came in his way, waited to return on TV on a good show with an interesting and different storyline. Did immensely well in and as the character and shows enormous capacity of self renewal and improvisation.

The question is, does he still think there is an ounce of realism in the script, or in the characters? Does he think it makes sense for anyone to disappear completely for 12 yrs with not even an email or a phone call? Does he not think that his turbulent relationship with Addu is being blown out of proportion in forming the center point of the story? Most importantly, does he think about any of this at all? He doesn’t think he is still in a ‘good’ show, does he? Dostoevsky said (in The Brothers Karamazov), a converted cynic is the strongest believer ( with regards to religion, but I think it holds true for most anything that needs blind faith).. You’ll know what I mean, Mr. Kapoor, if you ever read this.

Anyway.. its not like he has  authority to change or alter the script and story. None of the actors do, I realize they are not Amitabh Bachchan AND this is not Hollywood.

The last movie I watched that just blew my mind was ‘Hitchcock’. I know that it is the director who makes a film, but its the actor who plays the character and I don’t know if Anthony Hopkins can ever pick a character that is not worth playing or  that doesn’t bring out all his acting prowess to light and stretches it boundlessly, every time.

Again, it is not fair to compare an Indian TV actor to one of the best actors that Hollywood has ever had,  but there is a similarity. Its me. I used to like the first few months of NBT and I liked Hitchcock. It is again I, who is disappointed. And I don’t think I have a right to expect anything, but I still do expect the best from Anthony Hopkins and Meryl Streep in drama, Jason Stratham in action movies, Benedict Cumberbatch in Sherlock ( he is now my most favorite TV actor, along with SIR Kenneth Branagh ), Mohit Chauhan in singing, Eco Umberto, Stephen King, John Le Carre (among many others) in telling me a story, so on and so forth and Kunal Karan Kapoor in bringing a real character to Indian television.

So, its not him,  or the masses, just me. I am the problem. (Jerry Seinfeld and George, at least you never disappoint me when I need a quote) I don’t want to know the answers to my questions by the way. Even if I am sure they will not be disappointing, not when Mr. Kapoor answers them. Mr. Kapoor it is what used to be: Na bole tum, Na maine kuch kaha-

Is there even a contest between what we should choose,  freedom or  happiness, if we had to. Or is the answer very simple, like life is, according to many people. All the complexities residing in my head.

To someone trapped in an unpleasant situation, freedom might mean more than happiness. It being likely that trying to be happy is what got them trapped in the first place. Whereas, for a child, freedom and happiness don’t necessarily mean two different things. In their view, which again is often carried over through adulthood and sometimes an entire lifetime, the freedom to do something that makes them happy, even if that requires some ‘adult’ supervision, is enough.  Infants learn to suddenly bursting out into tears while they may have seemed perfectly happy a second before. Of course to them happiness is a status record, of being fed or hungry, wet or dry, in a comfortable lap or hanging in the air on a harness, hot, cold or cozy. That’s a lot of states for an infant and they learn that a wail or two and eventually more, with tears, can usually get them as much attention as is needed to make them happy again.

What I didn’t realize while doing the growing up and getting the  education was that all that was not really intended  to lead to a job and have a standard of living better than what my parents had. All that being synonymous to being happy, which for all intents and purposes I already was. Those children who are unhappy because of family conditions, or the non existence of one,  I would imagine would trade anything for happiness, for the adult supervision that would make them feel wanted, secure and happy. Even for some children in loving families, things that could threaten their happy lives, make their parents less loving (even for just an hour) would be things to avoid. Hence, trading freedom for happiness is easy and understandable. For children.

Education, at least what passes for it in schools, unlike what I was told as a kid,  may not lead to the ability to differentiate between right and wrong. Often that has to be learned in life, living it. Plus, we are not robots, if people could be taught exact definitions of right or wrong in schools and expect to live by them, we wouldn’t have most societal issues would we? We also won’t have anything new, courageous or crazy wonderful. What we can be taught in schools is how to stay out of trouble, discipline and social interactions. Knowledge and its use,  how to be a part of the society which is influenced by math, physics, geography, geology, biology, chemistry, politics, economics and every thing we are taught to pass exams in. All that doesn’t necessarily make us smarter, just helps us integrate into the society we already inhabit. Additionally, we should be taught is to have an open mind to the rights and wrongs in the world, some of us learn that young enough. Especially in troubled families, where no one is entirely good or evil. It is harder for children that are doted on and smothered and over protected, they have the expectation that society owes it to them. Just because they exist. That happiness is in fact, the norm, not something you have to work for. Perfect parenting, may not always lead to perfect kids. Once you get used to perfection, it is hard to live in this world!!
So as we go through all the early phases of learning and figuring out our status in our class, school and within the community of our parents friends, we adjust our expectations from ourselves. Some children are very good at it, compensating early for their short comings, by altering behavior and expectations. Some don’t do as well, may feel inadequate or unhappy and trapped in a place they didn’t ask to be in. Adjusting to what one is, the true nature of self, takes a life time or more.

Then comes a phase that everything seems like a trap, in the west it is called the teenage angst, and later the mid life crisis, in the east it often appears much later and stays on. We are much focused on taking our education to an endpoint of  ‘success’. Or at least a job. Wasn’t the job, the success, money supposed to bring us the happiness? Then the family was supposed to add to it. It does for a lot of people.

For some, however, the job and the possibility of  or the state of being married, may not lead to happiness. I am all for equal rights, I was brought up thinking that girls are as good if not better than boys, but I know its not true. Being a man often comes with the sort of freedom, a sort of expected reign of your life and choices, that women don’t have. So freedom is traded again, for happiness and security. The education they had received, that led to freedom for men, is not enough for the same freedom for women. They look again up to their children and husbands for happiness.

In a perfect world, this would happen, why not, no one has everything. So trading a career, spontaneity and top priority in your own life, for happiness, should work. It did, for the longest time in our still, patriarchal, society, when girls were brought up thinking that freedom was not even an option, were married off early. Some continue to marry quite early of their own volition now, because freedom is hard to deal with.

It doesn’t work so well for women who inadvertently picked up the ability of thinking freely and being able to cope with the responsibility of what comes after. The side effects of a real education. No one they can blame, because men will always blame the women, wherever possible. Because, hey, it was your decision to not marry or not listen to the husband or family.Momentary happiness is easy to get, but to people who understand it, fragments of freedom is worse than complete serfdom.

A man can expect to be happy without giving up freedom. That is the worst kind of gender discrimination, because it is so basic. It of course doesn’t mean that all men are happy and free. Its not a perfect world for them either. But at least they have a higher chance to make decisions that can lead to both.

Why blame society anyway, it could just be that the very career a man or woman chose for themselves, takes away their freedom, because they can’t give it up. They have invested everything in it. So might as well take the fragments of freedom offered by money, and moments of happiness provided by the family wherever and whenever possible. It is more than a lot of people have, considering the state of the world.

However, just for the sake of argument, I don’t think that trading freedom can lead to lasting happiness, not for anyone with an independent streak at least. The ones who don’t always need adult supervision and are not afraid of taking a chance now and then. So you want a brain, courage, independence, freedom AND happiness? What was it.. yeah.. you can’t get everything in life!

So, in the pursuit of happiness, commit to liberty of thought and expect great obstacles. But, girl, don’t settle for less. It is in the freedom that you will find yourself, and it is in yourself that you will find happiness.

But let me end with a quote from my demi-god – Orwell, as clearly ending in that last line ( as I did originally), was not in line with the real, true, cynical me..

― George Orwell, 1984

]]> http://implicitself.wordpress.com/2013/03/14/freedom-or-happiness/feed/ 2 neuroticphilosopher IMG_6799 http://implicitself.wordpress.com/2013/03/05/weekly-photo-challenge-lost-in-the-details/ http://implicitself.wordpress.com/2013/03/05/weekly-photo-challenge-lost-in-the-details/#comments Wed, 06 Mar 2013 01:16:25 +0000 neuroticphilosopher http://implicitself.wordpress.com/?p=1441 ]]>

God, as they say, is in the details.. Mine certainly would be.

( I am sorry I had to delete a few images because I haven’t watermarked them yet.)

At that time, my eyes were doing okay and I had not really given it much thought. However, as December progressed I had serious difficulty in reading anything and I still do, especially on a computer screen. But even road signs and signs at the airport. The doctor said that it was because my eyes were really dry. Not being able to see too well sort of puts off the mood to travel and sight see, especially since we were likely to look for birds. I almost cancelled the trip, several times, but in the mean while Kris wrote a lovely email saying how she was looking forward to our visit and of the things we could do in Portland of which she named restaurants and music and at the coast apparently there had been reports of snowy owls who had come over for the winter. I was obviously moved and infused with her enthusiasm. Not to mention inspired, as I know she has a form of macular degeneration which cannot be treated. Yet, i have never seen her complain about it.

Peggy had been surprisingly quiet for a little while, until a week before we left and she started emailing and making all the plans to take us everywhere. Apparently she had had a very bad ear infection and was not hearing too well. She said, and I quote ‘Oh we will be a pair Ishita, your eyes and my ears. But we will still have a lot of fun!.’

After that my excitement could not be contained even by the unnaturally early awakening at 3:30 am to catch yet another super early flight. We reached Oregon in time for a late breakfast and had that at Gustave’s restaurant in the airport itself. It was a big breakfast and the potatoes they serve are really something to visit the place for. Everything else is some type of sausage and brat? It was too early to try the beer, it seemed like a really elaborate list for an airport grill and bar, but as Peggy later told me, Portland has the maximum number of microbreweries in the country and I saw they even had organic beer.

We made it to our motel in the complimentary shuttle provided by them and it was everything a motel needed to me no less, and certainly no more. But it had a refrigerator and microwave. Peggy said she would come to meet us around 2 pm and take us over to the friends place where she was dog sitting for the duration of our stay. And bang on time she was too.. I can’t remember if I have been that happy to see anyone I had seen only a few months before and for the first time then too! I literally ran to greet her. She had told us about the dog- Ella who travels in the car and prefers that and the kennel she travels in, rather than staying at home. Her friend Judy’s house was quite close and we reached in under 10 minutes. Its a beautiful house with a lovely view of the mountains. Even more lovely and beautiful is their super friendly dog- Ella. Who is genetically deaf because of her breeding pedigree. She welcomed us to her house and ran ahead and inside wanted to play with throw ‘monkey’ with us as she slid across the wooden floor in a definite exaggerated attempt to catch the monkey. She can even swing on your leg with her legs wrapped around it like I used to when I was a kid. Not to mention her soccer skills with the head.

My eyes even were doing better in joy!! Peggy took us to a magnificent waterfall- Multnomah, quite close to the city and it was beautiful with the mossy hills and trees! The wooden cafe there was built during the great depression of 1930s by the WPA. It was raining slightly, and I found out that it is raining most of the time in Portland. Ella posed beautifully for some shots . We had a nice dinner at an Indian place called Bombay cricket club and had an interesting version of the Indian Samosas (in taste and shape) and shrimp coconut curry and lamb.

The next day Peggy drove us over beautiful streets sidelined with douglas furs laden in snow and pavements with snow upto about a foot, to the Timberline Lodge at Mt.Hood. The lodge was also made by the WPA in the 1930-40s and is where the first few shots of ‘The Shining’ were shot. Its a beautiful lodge with a nice bar/restaurant that made the best apple cider ever. Also a great skiing spot with a good view of the top of the mountain, when it is not too cloudy. I personally liked the ‘veiled’ view of the mountain top, common, though, it may be. We had lunch at Peggy’s favorite restaurant The Rendezvous grill.I had a very unique bean burger that was very tasty and I have not had or seen it anywhere else.. On our way back we stopped at Tony’s place, who is a enthusiastic potter. He showed us his garden filled with art him or his friends had made in a kiln. He is working on a replica of he tiles found in some church in Venice that he reproduced from seeing its picture in a post card. Ella gleefully ran all over it. He showed us his plants and what he had planted and wasn’t showing itself yet. I loved that visit, and not just because I had never seen a potter’s wheel and a kiln before in my life! We also met Ginny, Peggy’s daughter at Tony’s and returned to share a cup of tea in front of the wonderful fire at Judy’s place.

Kris and Ashley ( who we were meeting for the first time) came down on the 30th from central Oregon. But we weren’t there to greet them at Judy’s because we were at one of the best book stores I have ever been to- Powell’s in down town Portland. I bought several books on sale or used. In my mind I am always preparing my next move and new books sort of tie you down to them.. Old books do that better so you can’t get yourself to toss them making the whole process more streamlined.

We met up with the two at Judy’s and Ella greeted my like I was an old friend. I miss that dog. Peggy made us some sandwiches and off we were to the Ridgefield Natural wildlife refuge to see some waterfowl and swans! And we did see them. Hundreds of Tundra swans, slightly further away than I would have liked, but just sitting around like they were not swans but coots. Kris also said she had never seen so many together before! We saw the aforementioned coots, bufflehead male and female, northern shoveler, canada gees, mallards, northern harrier, red tailed hawks yellowlegs and long billed dowitches and TWO peregrine falcons in flight. Also two coyote trying to plan an attach on the canada geese but they got stage fright and didn’t really attack anything. Some of these birds were life-birds for me. As far as I know. I did see a peregrine falcon in India.

We had dinner that day at a lovely Thai restaurant- I cannot recall the name but the food was really good and we had Black rice and really fresh vegetables.
Next day was a trip to the coast beginning with where the snowy owls had been seen then on to the canon beach. It is amazing how I am always inappropriately dressed for birding, too hot or too cold, especially that day I was really cold. Or maybe I just complain too much. We spent several minutes, probably 15 or so looking for them from the lookout. I mean Peggy, Kris and Ashley did. I was just hanging out and then hanging out with Ella. No sign. Despite me having worn my ‘talisman; – a horned owl pendant. We went to some other spots that might have had them, saw a couple of bald eagles, but no snowy owls. Then Moniraj and Kris thought we should head back to the original spot one last time, just in case. So head back we did, yet no sign. They are big birds, generally close to the ground if not on it, looking for rodents. We saw a woman looking in a direction, further out in the marsh like land who stood there for a long time, but as far as we could tell she also didn’t see anything. So we decided that too many people had spooked them, and were about to return, when the woman, returning to the parking lot, saw us and said, ‘Oh, can you see it from here?’ we were like. No. Can you? She is like, yeah, its further out over the small hump, don’t go too close. And off we ran! Or some did. I was trying to be careful on the marsh until it swallowed in my shoes and sent in icy wter to my feet to welcome me! What was it about the right attire? yes, I never have it.
But, the most amazing sight awaited me and as Peggy had pointed out, it will all be worth it. It was not. It was worth several days of this!! A beautiful and HUGE white owl stood there and looked at us periodically, obviously trying to catch something. We even saw it fly. Dweaamy I tell you.

Well worth the laryngitis I think I got because of the wet woolen socks, that I am still nursing. Okay, next we went to a restaurant called Mo’s at the Canon beach and had a nice lunch, avocado stuffed with crab for me. Then onwards to the beach as the sun was about to set. It looked lovely, with many people and dogs running around. Trying to get you to play fetch. Those rock outcrops in the ocean just KILL me. I love them.
Best New Year’s eve ever.

Then a long drive back home to Peggy’s, delicious Pizza and champagne for dinner!!

The next was our last day in Oregon, but did we spend it fruitfully or what! Peggy took us to a small park called crystal springs and I waited with bated breath to see my most favorite duck of all time- the wood duck- in the wild! Ashley also really likes ducks. There is no duck like the wood duck I say, even as a kid I thought they were unearthly beautiful. They still are.. We also saw a stellar jay and a spotted towhee, gadwalls, scaups, pied grebes and American widgeons. We also went to an island looking for sandhill cranes ( we heard them but it was too foggy to see). I spotted a great horned owl, with its ears just like horns, as promised, in real life in the wild!! Made my day..

All three came to drop us to the airport, but not before I made them say that we will have another birding trip together. I can’t wait.

It happened suddenly, when I realized that my persistent blurry vision, got some respite as the weather improved for a day. I have had to guess what the computer is writing when I type, for over three weeks now. Thankfully, I have not had to perform any analysis at work during this time. When suddenly, as the thermometer rose last saturday, I saw clearly for a whole two hours. That was all, but still.

Now I see ( from my mind’s eye only) how important this conversation starter would have been in different times, when conversation started between individuals who really had no idea what was happening in distant places. Then they met someone from that place, and wanted to know the most important thing, the thing that mattered to them everyday where they lived. Might have even governed their livelihood. The way to show concern, true real world concern ( not a response to a FB status update), would have been to enquire about the weather.

Then, there are several other health conditions, asthma, arthritis, other allergies, that get worse or better with the weather. So hey, an indirect way to inquire about health, to be polite, or discreet. Is it too humid (for your knees)? “is it raining nonstop again?”

I don’t think that natural disasters are exactly the ‘weather; but they are often related to it. Like, in Oklahoma, tornado weather is preceded by thunderstorms and rain.. So, do you think there is a possibility that all that you condsider yours can be flattened to the ground tomorrow?

I can imagine that for the scientists of the past century, climate may even have determined the success of their experiments. For naturalists, it no doubt still does. Geologists, conservationists, all affected by the climate.

So, next time someone asks you, even if you know they don’t care about the answer, about the weather. Reply with care. It affects them and you more than you think.

I am not going to get into climate change, today. But clearly, it maybe soon that the weather will begin to determine where we can live, and eat and travel to, more than it does now. And while I am at it, I just want to say that I hate winter. Really. Can’t see the big deal about snow! It is inconvenient, may cause accidents, is ugly when it begins to melt or begins to freeze.. What is the big deal? pppffff and now I can’t see well when it is cold. Though, I don’t know if I ever will, it has only started last month.

The doctor told me today that I have eyes as dry as the Sahara desert ( or any other desert that I prefer when he saw my sad face). I recall the old adage, at least in India, when they used to tell me not to cry too much. I could run out of tears. Then, how would I cry the next time? That was when I was maybe 8 or 9. I remember imagining  a tank behind my eyes, which could get empty, like the tank that supplied water to our apartment that needed to be filled every morning. But, since clearly, I had no way of filling this tank in my head, it was even more likely to run out. I think it did have an effect on me, has not stopped my tears over the years, but I still remember thinking all this. Again. Wives tales or old wisdom, clearly came from somewhere.