Princess

Button has begun correlating his storybook characters to real life a lot, of late. Our car is Lightening McQueen. My squint-eyed baby-helper is the 'evil stepmother' (poor thing!) and my morning helper is Noo-noo (from Teletubbies, because she swabs the house). I never really paid heed to him, until I dressed up to go out with my husband yesterday. In my flowing skirt and a lovely embroidered top, I twirled around. Button took one look at me, smiled and said "Mamma, you look like Cinderella, a princess'. Thank you sweetheart!

Israel Chronicles: In memoriam - Yad Va Shem

People react to disasters in different ways. In India, the Independence struggles, the oppressive regimes have all but been forgotten. Because our primary religions (I mean Hinduism, its offshoots and Islam)teach us to be 'fatalist'.

We forget (in time forgive) and move on. Not the Jews. NOT EVER. The holocaust remains a blight on human history and the Jews are never going to forget it, never going to let anyone forget it, and in some respects rightly so. In the 19th century, the Jews had assimilated well into the cultures of various countries and yet managed to retain their individuality especially in terms of religious rituals. Enter Hitler, and the final blow on their individuality and safety was struck. Did they lose their minds? No. The Jews are a strong race. They took their lives into their own hands, created Israel (it is another matter that the Palestinian Arabs got a raw deal out of it, more on this later) and created a magnificent memorial to their loved ones who were unjustly dealt with during the holocaust.

The Yad Va Shem, meaning a memorial to the tribes of Shem (son of Noah from whom the Jews descended) is a tribute to all the Jews who lost their lives in the Shoah(Hebrew for Holocaust).

Its not a museum, more an interactive 'memorial' (for lack of a better word) that lets you FEEL the horror of it all. For example, you walk over a glass display floor and when you look down you can see thousands of pairs shoes underneath. These are shoes found at Dachau (some of them contributed by survivors or their families). You 'feel' the sadness and the enormity hits you like a physical blow almost. Yad Va Shem is systematically constructed in chronological order, with the horror mounting further and further, till at some point you do end up breaking down and wondering what the point of all the senseless targeted execution was. The grey walls and black benches add to the bleak atmosphere. The audio guide that we took with us(depositing our passports at the entrance) helped us get a context. The audio guide is EXCELLENT and I highly recommend it. At Yad Va Shem, there are several TV screens with live depositions and accounts from survivors. Heart-rending. I actually was shocked beyond tears.

We meandered through the events into an Aushwitz death-wagon and then I felt stifled. I walked through the rest of the sections trying to squelch the growing nausea(of the horrors) into a lovely section about the 'Avenue of the Righteous'. This section was built to honor non-Jews who believed in humanity in those tough times and saved many many Jews, the most popular of them being Oskar Shindler. (Nanny Sandra Samuel to Baby Moshe, of 26/11 fame is recognized as a 'Righteous Gentile'). In the gardens outside, several of them are honored with a tree planted for their service.

Finally one walks into a room with a deep well. The well reflects walls and walls of box folders. One folder for each person who perished during the Shoah. More than 2 million folders are yet to be identified and the space for them is blank. The Jews believe in knowing their ancestry and it pains them immensely that several of their ancestors had perished without survivors or records. It is an unbelievably touching memorial reflecting the resilience and defiance of the Jewish race, not to mention their love for their brethren and meticulousness in preserving their memory.

My usually talkative TP had now forgotten all of the 6 languages she speaks. In silence we walked through (the ubiquitous souvenir shop) into the gardens and into a memorial for children. Thats when the tears started rolling (and didn't stop for a long time).

It is a lovely breath-stopping memorial to the little ones who were killed before they could see the world for what it was. Perhaps the world then was bleak, perhaps it was not the best of times for the Jews, but they had their parents' love and the support of their community, and never lived to see it. The memorial is a walk-through memorial - a dark room with thousands of mirrors reflecting one single glowing light. It refers to the lovely children who 'became stars' and are watching over the world. There is a solemn voice recording that intones the names of the children, their age and place of murder giving the place a chilly overtone (we got goosebumps for sure). Strong Jew pride and spirit of 'we shall not forget', isn't it?

If we - Indians, Hindus, young-enough to have never witnessed any holocaust or oppression, living a yuppie-privileged life, moderate in thought - were moved beyond words, imagine how an 18 year old Jewish military recruit feel? After the shock and sadness passes away, am sure it would be replaced by patriotic fervor. The Jews as a race believe in remembering, and passing on the remembrances. Yad Va Shem is the pinnacle of this belief to preserve their memories for posterity.

"And to them will I give in my house and within my walls a memorial and a name (a "yad vashem")... that shall not be cut off."

(Isaiah, chapter 56, verse 5)

Dazed, TP and I walked straight into a mall to shop away our sorrow.

And shop we did! We went to a local supermarket(Ramy Levi), bought several edible delights for our kids and went back to the hotel. We returned to a mall for dinner and had a lovely chocolate drink from (I highly recommend) a shop called Max Brenner. Went to bed, thinking about our past, the sacrifices our brave soldiers are making to protect our borders and how little we do to honor them, and feeling excited about our day trip the next day to Palestine (West Bank, Israel).

Moral: It is important to wear sturdy shoes always. It is more important to remember what is important to us.

World Cup and the lessons

The World Cup Cricket 2011 is one of the momentous occasions that defines our lives. Similar to the magnitude of the Tsunami or Twin Towers bombing, thankfully HAPPY in nature.

We'll always remember and talk about what we were doing then... at a pub, at home, in bed, with the husband, with someone else... whatever. We'll remember the tears of joy when Dhoni hit the last six, the tears in Sachin's eyes, Gary's quiet joy, Virat's lovely comment... Even the smaller details will stay with us for many years to come...Poonam Pandey, the dirt streak on Dhoni's shirt during his batting innings, Sreesanth's hair, 'wicked' Malinga, the man in the audience who had painted his entire body, Rajni and Aamir together (and the couplets about Dhoni, Rajini and Gajini)and the euphoric crowds.

In an era of disillusionment with the Government,with the maid,with the American President,the hairdresser,the boss,

the Saravana Bhavan dosas,the admission process at school, the media, the rat race, the rats..... everything, Dhoni has given us the only thing that seems rarer than flowers in a desert - HOPE and OPTIMISM. The sight of the entire team carrying Sachin has re-instilled faith that 'Indian' values of love and respect for an older person (player) still live. Dhoni shaving off his head the next morning has re-given meaning to 'faith' and prayers. Kirsten choosing to go back home reminds us that 'karma' is king, what follows is not for us to decide. Harbhajan Singh thanking the whole world has reaffirmed that vote of thanks is best short, maybe 15 seconds or so! The Government offering different slabs of money to the team has re-confirmed us that in India you have to be 'seen' working. The flag doing the victory laps around the ground brought back memories of childhood pledges to 'do our best for the nation' (are we?).

Thank you cricket team. Thank you for the cup. Thank you for the lessons. And thank you for proving that Chenin Blanc Chardonnay can be consumed in the afternoon too.

Israel Chronicles: Dead Sea is ALIVE!

On Day 2 of our wonderful trip, TP and I got a little adventurous.

We took a state-run bus from the central bus stop (that got bombed a few days later) to a place called Masada. Masada is the site of a fortress where a group of Jews fought literally to their last breath to fend off their attackers. Several army contingents in Israel go by the motto "Masada shall never fall again". The fortress is a glowing example of how a historical site is brought into today's context and woven into the lives of the Jewish people. Again, several military troops and more 'Jewish' lessons.

I almost wept for the opportunities we have in India (and do not 'use') to preserve our history. The (Masada) fortress is splendid, undoubtedly. Situated on the top of a mountain, it has a superb 360 deg view. It has a bathing chamber, a synagogue, several storerooms and cisterns, but well, after traveling to the Daulatabad fortress and the off-beat Chitradurga Fort, it was difficult for me to be impressed (note, I haven't even mentioned Red Fort or Agra Fort). All our forts also have the same features. What is common to these forts and is remarkable is how well they've withstood the ravages of time and what architectural marvels they are.

Interestingly, all tourist points in Israel exit into a Souvenir shop. Carried away by the multi-media presentations, well laid out paths, excellent tour guides and signs, well maintained restrooms and the overwhelming 'Jew' pride, most tourists spend a bomb in here... we had a lovely time walking around of course.

We took a bus from Masada to the lovely Ein Bokek.... DEAD SEA!!!

It is a beautiful spectacle indeed...blues ranging from aquamarine to lapis lazuli all the way to sapphire and a royal blue, several people were playing around. My TP and I quickly changed in (the thoughtfully provided) shower rooms and rushed to the sea. We couldn't wait to test if we'd really float... and float we did! Dead sea has always made it to the list of places I want to visit before I die, and I am so glad I got to float. After gingerly stepping past the salt crystals on the tiny shore, I waded into the water, and could barely walk! The water just thrusts you upward and you just float! It is almost supernatural and a bit eerie, a bit lovely, a bit scary and a bit exciting.

We had tea at this lovely shop where India was given a positively glowing vote by everyone. Apparently most Israelis visit India(because it is cheap and thanks to Bhole baba ka prasad!) and love the hospitality, culture and Indian food(sadly, no mention of Indian women, but after seeing some of the Israeli mothers, understandably too!)

We headed back to Jerusalem and then out to Mamilla mall for a bit of shopping.

With 2 women what do you expect? My TP went into every shop and I did what I like to do best, take pictures and observe the people walking past. Going past the black coats et al, Israelis (especially the Jews) go everywhere with their kids - Malls, Restaurants, Rest rooms... where not?Missed Button for a few seconds then.

With lighter wallets, smiles on our faces and food in our bellies, we headed back to Addar, ready to crash.

Moral of the story: Never miss an occasion to shop, never miss an occasion to announce you are Indian!

CSAAM April'11 - My son's childhood shall remain INNOCENT, I vow

My naughty 3 year old son who will be going to school soon, here is what I do to ensure that his belief in humanity remains. Some of the precautions are for safety's sake, not just to prevent abuse.

a)Since his first birthday I have been telling him that all 'chaddi' parts are not to be touched by anyone except mamma, papa and his grandparents. Maids are allowed to clean him but only in the presence of above mentioned relatives.

b)If an ayaah or helper cleans his private parts in school, I ask him to recollect whether he was cleaned at playschool or not, and by whom and whether he cried or ran away during the cleaning process. He is not yet 3 and not able to articulate well, but I watch out for these signs. If he says he cried,I check him for a rash, if there are none, I tell the teacher the next day that he was not handled properly.

c)I tell him atleast thrice a week that the driver or cook or watchman or anyone else is NOT allowed to touch his 'chaddi' parts.

d)I may sound paranoid, but I don't let him travel alone by car or even with his maid. One of the grandparents or parents HAS to accompany him.

e)Button is normally not a touchy-feely-cuddly child and I do not encourage him to become one. One day he will be older and he will have a girlfriend with whom he can be touchy-feely-cuddly!

f)Button does not like being completely naked, and I don't encourage him either.

g)When I leave Button alone with the maid, I drop in earlier sometimes, ask my neighbor to walk in at other times. Now at Chennai, my mom-in-law drops in too. ALL surprise visits.

h)My husband and I always reward Button for being open and speaking his mind. My husband also recounts his day and listens to me doing the same in the presence of Button, and we encourage him to do the same

i) Last but definitely important, is mental abuse. Not just physical abuse. I correct my maid's language almost incessantly. All improvements in her vocabulary are duly complimented, even rewarded. Even listening to bad language can change cause mental distress. I do reprimand usage of negative or 'f' words and I try to watch only child-friendly shows in his presence on TV.

As is evident, I feel strongly about the subject. The bottomline is that I cannot drive away ALL the wolves, but I can at least give him the knowledge of how to spot one and the faith that his parents are there to love and support him always. .

Israel Chronicles: Old IS Gold!

TP and I had decided on a loose itinerary before leaving for Israel based on our reading and our determination of what was a must-do for each of us. As per plan, we set off on a walking tour in the Old City. I highly recommend the Zion Walking Tours, though by Indian standards it seems steep (at approx 1000INR per person).(http://zionwt.dpages.co.il/) Our guide (coincidentally named 'Shalom') welcomed us on the tour.

We walked through the very private Armenian Quarters, soaking in the warmth and embrace of the Old City.

The Old City was built sometime in the 1500s and has a high wall all around it. Of the 4 quarters, the Armenian Quarters is most secluded. In it live Christians who practise the religion as per their very Orthodox church. The residents leave the Quarters for work but return by early evening, when the Quarters are physically locked.(Frost's 'The Wall' anyone?)

Some glimpses from outside took us to a world that I'd imagined from the Ukranian Fairy Tales my dad had bought for me when I was 8... women wearing shawls, men with Fez-like hats and black coats and speaking in a tongue that was strange, fascinating and interesting at the same time.

We then walked into the Jewish Quarters. In speech, and perhaps in belief, every Jew I met is highly 'Jewish', which can be loosely translated into anti-Arab (and therefore, anti-Muslim). The average man on the road will talk about how the Jordanian king razed down his grandfather's tombs, or how a Palestinian Arab shot his nephew or how the Muslim Kings built Al-Aksa on their Holy Temple.

A disclaimer here - please bear with my if the next couple of posts seem very Jewish, I shall present the Arab point of view later (when I narrate our visit to a West Bank PA Territory). But for now, let me reiterate that you can almost FEEL the Jewish character on the streets, especially in the Jewish Quarters of the Old City. Most Jews observe the tenets of their religion, growing their sideburns long, wearing a tzitzit (sacred thread) around their waist and their traditional kippah (skull cap). We walked through several interesting ancient structures like the Cardo, the Western Wall Tunnels and finally reached the Western Wall. During our walk our guide freely 'cursed' King Hussein of Jordan and believed it was his right because he fought in a 'war' against him...and my guide was a well-traveled 'liberal'(also his words)!

I can do a few posts on just the Western Wall. The atmosphere in the Western Wall complex is unbelievable. Tirupati perhaps comes close, but not really. Its quieter, more grandiose (no shrine, no idol, no priest, no collection boxes) and apart from the wall, you can see black everywhere(except for the military). The reverberations and energy one feels in the place is immense. The Wall is the culmination of 3 warring religions. The Jews,as per the tenets of their religion, have only one Holy temple(which only their high priest can enter) and several synagogues(for the average Jew to pray in).The temple was built to house the Ark of the Covenant (for more, pls watch Indiana Jones!) and the Foundation Stone (from which the Earth originated and from which Adam was made).

The Muslims also believe in the same Foundation Stone. So do several sects of Christians. Several centuries ago, the Arabs (being more powerful then) built a sacred mosque over the Foundation Stone, called Al-Aksa (one of their 3 holiest shrines, along with Mecca and Medina).The wall closest to the Foundation Stone is the

Western Wall(also called the Wailing Wall, the Holy Wall).The devotion there is touching, Jews from other parts of the world break down in tears, children keep quiet and recite the passages they know from The Torah and men solemnly gaze at the Wall.The sanctity or divine presence is perhaps the faith, hope people repose in the wall for a better tomorrow.

We walked on from the Western Wall via the Cardo(a magnificent Roman structure)to the Christian Quarters. While it does look like the Jewish Quarters, it is not as bustling or as traditional... until one reaches the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

Queen Helena (mother of heathen King Constantine) built the Church to honour the last 5 stations of the Christ on his final journey. The spot where his body was prepared after his crucification and the place where he was crucified bear similar attestation to devotion... candles, tears, silent prayers and a strong sense of a divine presence. Again, for the un-religious, I feel it is just the faith that manifests itself as divinity.

We wound up with a brief tour of the Arab Quarters, more a market. Our 'Jewish' guide, who spoke excellent Arabic (business is never confused with personal belief!) gave us some vignettes such as how the Church of Holy Sepulchre was literally a battleground with several Christian sects fighting over ownership and now each of the 'winning' sects have a few square feet each! Also, that the key of the Church is owned by a Muslim family which lives nearby. Finally, as we wound up, he expressed hope for Israel returning 'rightfully' to the Jews.

While we walked around we saw several Army recruits carrying their backpacks and machine guns! Its unnerving seeing 18 year olds walking around absorbing Jewish history and the jingoistic spiel doled out by their instructors swinging their machine guns like water bottles! But this is how the nationalistic spirit is driven in and surrounded by 'hostile' states, Israel does need it.

I have to say, these kids do look rather dashing (do I sound like Mrs.Robinson now?!) in their military fatigues and long sideburns. In fact ALL Jewish sites we went to, had atleast fifty or so military recruits (complete with machine guns) imbibing their ethos. Makes me think, it may be good for India to send all our army recruits to Jalianwala Bagh and Red Fort and perhaps Srinagar and Arunachal Pradesh.God knows we need to get a national spirit going.

After the walk, we indulged in a lovely Hummus and salad meal. The salad portions are huge and come with dips (labneh, baba ganoush). Lots of chick peas. At about midnight we reached a desolate parking lot, the starting point of a guided midnight bike ride. (http://www.jerusalembiking.com/) 2 South Indian women at 12 in the night at sub zero temperatures? (with teeth chattering and eyes watering) started praying to Tirupati Balaji that somehow the thing is called off (high on enthusiasm, low on warm clothing). HE is powerful, I kid you not. Coincidentally,the other participants cancelled and we gracefully demurred a private tour and came back with a free T Shirt to remember our midnight cab ride to the parking lot.But if you visit in summer, it is surely worth it. The guide and contact person are just so wonderful.The upside? The Parking lot (in an area called Talipiyot) has the loveliest look out of Jerusalem by night... all sparkling and lit up.

Moral of our day? : Warm clothes and good shoes are a must anywhere. Men (i mean people) can get carried away by perceived past slights and behave as though what happened over a thousand years ago can affect their rational judgement now.

Israel Chronicles: Israel Is Real!

Taking the first step out of Ben Gurion airport, the first thing 2 Indian overworked mothers do? Behave like 5 yr olds let loose in a candy shop! TP and I let loose a few whoops and some tribal jinga-la-la-ho steps and sobered up enough to hunt for a cab... being a quasi-Western nation, Israel of course does not have helpful 'bhaiyyas' to carry your luggage... to cut a long story short, we took a cab to our hotel.

We stayed in East Jerusalem. Now there is a road in Jerusalem which bifurcates East and West Jerusalem.East Jerusalem was captured by Jordan when Israel was recognized as a Jewish state by the British Mandate in 1948. It was recaptured by Israel in the 6 day war in the late 60's. Perhaps because of Jordanian rule or perhaps due to its proximity to Al-Aksa, East Jerusalem is primarily Arab dominated whereas West Jerusalem is Jew-driven.... and we stayed in Arab dominated East.

We stayed in a fantastic hotel called 'Addar'. Would I have thought glowingly of it had I traveled with my son? Perhaps not.

But for 2 women travelers it was perfect. It had a tiny bed room with 2 single beds and a separate living room complete with a kitchenette and even a tiny dining table! TP crashed once we checked in, and I(with my OCD to set up a 'system') rummaged around my suitcase for a couple of hours!

When I looked out of the window for my first glimpse of Jerusalem, I had to remind myself to breathe.

The entire city stretched out golden....most houses and buildings in Jerusalem are built of some kind of stone that reflect the morning sun rays with a golden shimmer... clean and silent, yet resonating with ancient voices and a character that is hard to translate into words.

When we set off to visit the old city, the first sight that we remember in Jerusalem was cabbages the size of melons!Vegetables so fresh that had my grandfather come with me,

he'd've insisted on carrying home a sack. Burqa-clad women speaking perfect English blasted the first myth that the west-dominated media feed us...more on this later.....the Old City beckoned us majestically. A bleached red-fort like wall rose into the sky... and we entered through the Damascus gate.

The Old City is a walled area, about 1 sq. km divided purely on basis of religion into 4 quarters - Arab, Jew, Armenian and Christian. Given our hotel location (and perhaps our affiliation, but I am getting ahead of myself!) we entered the Arab quarter and were shocked. You'd think India would prepare you enough for noisy bargaining crowds, colorful stalls and disregard for any orderly movement, but it doesn't. Yet the Arab quarter isn't difficult to navigate, it is just so colorful, so lovely, yet without the filth and jostling of Indian bazaars and thankfully sans the humidity! As we walked through the Old City towards the Jaffa Gate (the entrance to the Jewish Quarters),TP and I fell in love.....

Moral of the Story: Always pack light! Always remember the moment you fall in love.