First Road trip: Visit to Williamstown.

I got my drivers' license finally! It was about time I got down to learning how to drive and getting my license; I'm 26 now after all! I took 5 hours of lessons and by the end of them, I was pretty confident about driving. Still, I was really nervous about the road test and actually did not sleep well that night. But I couldn't have nailed the parallel park and 3-point/K-turns at the road test any better. I only wish they could have given me a grade on that exam which would have nicely stroked my ego :P  The only complaint I have is that nearly every car in the US is automatic-shift, which means I still can't drive if I had to in Europe or India. Something has to be done about this.

I was itching to drive all week after I had cleared my exam on Monday. I couldn't stop smiling for a whole hour after the exam. Every car that passed me, felt like it deserved to be driven by me. So when the weekend came, I couldn't wait to get my hands on a car and go out. There were two choices. Williamstown which has the Clarke Institute that was temporarily showcasing a massive Van Gogh collection vs. another nearby town where you can have fun rafting over tough rapids. Because I just admire, adore and literally worship Van Gogh so much, and the collection was only temporary, it had to be Williamstown.


About the drive: 1) I really enjoyed driving in the suburbs of Boston and Massachusetts in general. When the roads are empty and you cruise along slowly, it's very relaxing. And the whole place is just so goddamn beautiful around summer. I bet driving in the fall would be even better. 2) Highway driving is tricky. There was a time when I drove at 95 mph on a near empty highway. The max speed was 65 mph and I still got tail-gated. People are passive-aggressive pieces of shit. Lesson learnt. Drive on the 2nd lane always and drive max 10 + the speed limit. If people wanna drive faster, they can pass me from the left. It doesn't save you all that much time anyway.

My first real-life parallel park. I actually nudged the car behind me but luckily no damage was done. Just when I has escaped without anyone noticing, a guy pulled up right next to me, and asked me to bring down my window. I thought he was going go off with, "You won't get away with it! I saw you!" Instead, he said, "Great going, I totally didn't think it was possible to make that one." How fucking sweet. First attempt at something and instant validation. If only life in general was so validating like that.

About the Van Gogh exhibit: It was absolutely worth the 3 hour drive. There are almost 60 original paintings at the exhibit that have been put together by requesting museums all across Europe and North America. You could actually see his development as an artist, his mental state across different stages of his career through the paintings there. Two of his best paintings, the Potato Eaters and Starry Night weren't up for display, however; for those, you have to go to MoMA in New York. Another favorite of mine, the Bedroom was also not there; that's at the Art Institute of Chicago.

Old People!

The wife!

About the people there: One word, old. Most of them were retired, senior citizens. I guess Williamstown is a rich peoples' retiring place in the middle of nowhere. But this also meant that they were often very knowledgeable. Although Saloni and I would've have preferred chatting with younger people, it was still fun talking to the old lady who quickly dismissed Van Gogh's paintings by saying, "they're all so eerie and sad, ugh, I hate them." Haha. There were also some weird pretentious people talking about angles and lines. Fuck them, I thought, they don't get shit. Van Gogh is pure emotion on canvass.                                                                  

You don't need to analyze the angles of lines to know when someone's heart was poured out on a piece of paper. IMO, every beautiful work of art will evoke a feeling of sublimeness in the heart of someone who is capable, perceptive, able to feel. There's got to be a universality to it, I'm sure of it. For me personally, just the ability to be `this' close to something that a person as beautiful as Van Gogh created over 100 years ago is worth it. Yes, perhaps I know I have a tendency to go a little overboard in expressing my admiration for certain people/things. But there are only so many things in the world that can feel sublime and these must be cherished.

We bought a book that details the complete artworks of Van Gogh!!!

As Van Gogh said, "It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love, is well done." If there is something that makes you feel that it is sublime, then it must be converted to love and the emotion cherished, because it can make you become better and achieve something you couldn't have otherwise, not without being driven by that emotion, that belief in the beauty of what you are doing. For instance, when it comes to science and research, I cannot commit myself to a project until I feel for myself that it is, in some way, sublime and beautiful, and that it must be done; and when I feel this way, it is the most wonderful feeling in the world. I think this is what Van Gogh refers to. (And I will not complain about the times my advisor asked me to publish something I didn't think was worth it. And so I didn't.) "you must love with a sublime, genuine, profound sympathy, with devotion, with intelligence, and..."

Best parking ever. How you ask?

I was actually going up the road on the right. I proceed to then to put the car in reverse gear. I performed a U-turn in reverse along with a 90 degree turn to get the car parked on the right (in black). Fuck yeah!

Oh, and we also went to visit the Andy Warhol exhibit in the nearby Williams College Museum of Art. Andy Warhol is a peevish nutter. His drawings remind you of one those guys you knew who had a great quirky sense of sexual humor. Is it art? Sometimes. I mean, of course, there's a lot of original thought and contribution which is undeniable there. This exhibit was a lot about his initial illustration work. Many quirky things. Fat overly sexual fairies. (A lady standing next to us just burst out laughing sooo bad when she saw that exhibit.) Short stories about aliens and toads and such... The guy clearly had an overactive imagination...

India trip thoughts.

Every time I `visit' `home', I feel differently about India. And so it seems worthwhile to write down my thoughts; so that maybe 10 years from now, I read this and think, it's interesting that I thought this way...

1) There were two defining features of the India trip this time. For one, I was going to get married and that was really the major story of the visit, and second, I was going to go to my real home, in Delhi, and not the temporary place down south (Chennai) where my parents have moved to for my dad's work. It is impossible to feel at home in the south of India where you have to use English to get around because the local language is not even in the same broad category of languages as is Hindi! (Hindi, like Sanskrit, belongs to the Indo-European language family; Tamil, and other southern indian languages, are not based on Sanskrit---they are Dravidian languages which is an independent family of languages.)

2) This time I felt like I was `visiting' India, instead of going home. I've become too ensconced in my American existence. A lot of my Indian colleagues are far more attached and they miss India all the time. Honestly, I never felt this way. I was happy to assimilate into life in America and make friends from all parts of the world and learn about their cultures etc.. (That said, I don't think others feel the way I do; most foreigners in America, including Indians, tend to be pretty cliquish and hang out with people from their own country/region. So having a friend group often just boils down to having a group of friends primarily from your own community which is a bit sad.) And I had begun to feel really at home in America. So much so, I felt a bit nervous about going back home this time. Truth be told, I always despise changes and that probably added to the nervousness. But then I saw the Lotus Temple from the airplane window and when, upon entering the airport I saw, "भारत में आपका स्वागत है।" ("Welcome to India"), I ended up with a huge lump in my throat. When I saw the Babu at the immigration counter and knew he wouldn't ask me jack-shit when I showed him my Indian passport, I felt like hugging him. India will always be home, after all. 

 3) Racial remarks/intolerance etc. While we waited to receive my cousin-didi (who was flying in from the US) at the airport, we saw a black guy come out with an Indian muslim lady. There were some big oohs and ahs, and some muslim folk (identifiable by their Saudi garbs) started laughing. Pretty sad. Then, as my cousin came out, she rolled her eyes (a distinctively american trait) describing how she saw a white girl traveling solo (in particular, without any male friend) and blogging, "And the adventure begins!". We laughed about it, wryly.   

4) Religious intolerance, etc. I had forgotten how it was totally OK to make fun of muslims or sardaars, or baniyas, or south indians, with any random person, even the muslim, sardaar, baniya or south indian etc. on the street. It began on the ride back home from the airport, and, at first, it felt like a sudden shock to the system. I think it was the posters of the much-popularized ``Yoga divas" (``Yoga day") that triggered it. Someone mentioned how people were beginning to celebrate Yoga around the world, but muslims in India are opposing it because it is ``Hindu". Lots of bad blood was subsequently spilled. The Sardaar taxi driver joined in gleefully in the muslim bashing. I will add though that I still think that Indians, on an average, are actually far more religiously tolerant than westerners despite the occasional unpleasant mouthing-off which, to be fair, is done in a way to pass time more than anything. When shit gets serious though, it can be bad, especially in the villages. 

5) Food. For some time now, I had begun telling people that Indian food in restaurants in America isn't all too different from Indian food in restaurants in India. I think I had lost my mind. Food simply cannot taste as good as it does in India. Going to the Sardaar meat shop in Sector 13 market and getting hariyali/patiyala shahi kababs reminded me of what flavor is. Unbelievably flavorful food. And just the awesome feeling of going at 6 am to get fresh Cocount water from the neighborhood market, or the mixed fruit juice squeezed right in front of your eyes, which costs less than 60 cents a `pint' and comprises lychees, pineapples, mangoes, pomegranates, sugarcane, apples and bananas---that's unbeatable stuff, especially if you pair it with the time spent laughing along/at the old folks performing "laughter yoga" in the nearby park.

Morning. Time to go get groceries. View from home sweet home. 

A good life is incomplete without the daily morning dose of freshly squeezed fruit juice. 

6) Birds. Why don't we see any birds in American cities? I don't know, but I found myself a bit shocked seeing swarms of pigeons and parrots and koels. And then I realized I hadn't seen swarms of flying birds in a while. We also had a very angry pigeon nesting outside the bathroom window; this made pooping a somewhat unpleasant experience because the guy just couldn't stop giving you the "I'll kill you if you hurt my babies" look while you did the deed. Should have gotten his picture. 

7) North-western India vs. Northern India. I never thought it, but there's a huge difference, and I got to see this when I went to visit Saloni's relatives in Jaipur. North-western India is distinctly more conservative, vegetarian and anti-alcohol than `northern' India. And, for a change, a lot of the prominent architecture is of Hindu origin. Unlike the north, with Punjab, Haryana, U.P. (but not so much Himachal), where the Mughal conquest led to the near-complete razing of Hindu monuments (and subsequent establishment of Islamic ones on top of those) the north-west was always well-protected because of the powerful Hindu Rajput (literally meaning, "sons of rulers") rulers. And so Hindu monuments and forts etc. survive. (A lot of Rajput monuments are now in Pakistan, however.) I also thought that the inner cities, which are typically very dirty in India, were much better here in Jaipur than they are in Delhi or U.P. in general. I was pleasantly surprised; I certainly did not expect this.

Jaigarh Fort courtyard.

View looking into the city from the courtyard in the previous pic.  

Rajputana Hindu temple

More birds! 

8) Family. I always put my work first. And family second. My dad made me so. But this time, for the first time, I truly realized what makes India home. And it's family. Everyone, my cousins, my bua-fufajis, maama-maami, tauji-taiji made Saloni and my wedding possible, and so special. Just that ability to go and meet them and have chai and chat. Life in America is, in this regard, lonely.

9) Driving is not fun in India and this is one of the first things you notice after living for a while in America. And also the first thing you notice when you come back to America. "Fuck! Cars can drive in straight lines!!! My god, this land is so fucking beautiful"

Exhibit A: Driving in the middle of the road. 

Exhibit B: Who's "lane" is it anyway?  

Exhibit C: Q. Why did the Sardaarji decide to stand in the middle of the road? A. To avoid being hit by a car.  

10) There are so many more lounges and pubs in Delhi now.  We had a great time in a nautical-themed lounge called "the Vault". I was itching to smoke a hookah, but I refrained.  There were a lot of really smartly dressed young couples---a lot of PDA---heck, I even saw a couple kissing on the streets! Who would've thought that could happen in India!

11) I missed traveling on trains in India.

The (hideous) New Delhi railway station. 

This somewhat-shy baby girl kept us entertained. Her hair was actually brownish-blonde! I guess it will turn dark soon. 

12) Pollution/Filth. This time I focussed on this aspect of life in India. Filth actually doesn't bother me as much; I don't think it's that dirty in most places. Other than U.P., of course, which, sadly, is really really filthy. A huge hoopla had been made of the air pollution in Delhi this time by a few writers in the NYT for instance. I can see the reason why. While the air in the residential areas is pretty clean in Delhi, on highways, it can get pretty bad. Old trucks are apparently the biggest culprit.  Then there is the massive traffic congestion and honking and so on...

13) Final thoughts. And questions. What makes me not want to go back to India? In one sentence? There's just this general worry about not being able to truly fulfilling life's potentials in India. There's the lack of better career-related opportunities, the lack of freedom to just quietly drive out to a beautiful place for a trek or joy trip, the lack of earnings to enjoy regularly traveling or vacationing as you want... All that said, this time I felt very differently about India. I felt a longing for the land I hadn't felt in a long long time. And how about having lots of friends and family around? The importance of this just cannot be overstated.

Alas, one cannot have everything in life. As Rumi said (translated from Persian to Hindi),"joh bhi hoga apni asl se judaa, hoga wasl-e-kheesh uska muddaa".