The double red line

Everything in my life right now is linked to Yoga. Even this blog post. Not sure if this is true, but Gandhi is said to have mentioned that on a normal day you do your yoga and on a busy day you do it twice, or some such thing. Even if he had not said that, it makes sense!

The last week was a good one, because I did not fall sick. Nothing incubated inside of me after that Asia trip and ravaged me a few days later. The week felt like it had 10 days though. Sometimes you just get into that mode of improving your batting average at work and the more you focus on it, the more balls seem to come your way! It was that kind of week. On Friday, my voice started to crack. That is always an early warning sign for the impending aliens to put me back in bed. One thing leads to another and I am thinking.. "Hmm, I am behind on my yoga attendance and this may be the day to do two classes back to back". 

This is not the first time I am going to a yoga class twice in a day (did 4 over a 24 hour period two years ago with a good nights sleep thrown in) or doing two classes back to back. Usually, I look at the schedule and make sure it is not the "tough love" teachers in both the classes to pace myself and take a breath here and there when we get to the "I am definitely going to die on this mat today" part of class.

The first class was taught by a teacher who is from the "tough love" school. Her default is to kick my ass in class. Just at the exact moment, my head is filled with "best standing bow EVER!" she will go "Sundar, kick harder! you are not kicking hard enough" and I will be screaming inside my head going "that wasn't enough? that is all I got lady! Any more kicking and my head is going to spontaneously combust and you will have to scrape my smoking remains off the mat!". I would get the same feeling from when I was at the toll booth on 680, trying to collect every last quarter, nickel and penny in the car to make the 5$ toll, or risk a 27$ fine only to find that I am 17 cents short!  

All said, made it through the first class! After a quick internal debate with myself on the sanity of going back into the hot room, the side that said "why not? It cannot get any worse!" won. Drank a packet of Vitamins (and the 5g of sugar and electrolytes in it) and went back in. Took a nice 10 minute nap and before I could finish an evening dream of doing a better standing bow, the bell rang and the next class started. 

This time, I did not check the schedule to see who was teaching the two classes. Even if I HAD seen the schedule, it would not have made a difference. The next teacher who showed up, had taught me maybe twice before. Both those classes were overflowing with people and she didn't give me any corrections. This time was different. She knew it was my second class in a row...

If you have watched enough National Geographic videos, you will know that a lioness knows which gazelle is most likely to end up dead at the end of the short video clip, even before she takes the first step towards the watering hole. I was that Gazelle! Okay, that was stretching it a bit far. If you got visions of me gracefully moving through the savanah, let me stop you right there! The comparison is purely for the "dying at the end fo the clip" part. There was no grace, no strength or any sign of a fight left in me, or so I thought. It is one thing for the lioness to know which Gazelle.. but I wonder how the cameraman knows which one. He seems to pick it out with as much accuracy as the lioness.. and if a lioness and a cameraman know..why are the gazelles not able to know as well?!  Where were we? Too much Planet Earth in my head right now. Getting back to the topic...

On a scale of 1 to 10, where 10 is like infinity and 1 is next to nothing, my strength was a 5 and flexibilty was a 3 during the first class. At the end of that class, my strength was a 2 and flexibility was  5! You become suddenly aware that bending comes easy and holding the bend is incredibly hard. 15 minutes into the second class, we are doing the first back bend and the teacher goes "you are already relaxed Sundar. Go for it.. bend!" and I went back in one smooth motion and didn't stop. Almost fell backwards after I could see the baseboard on the back wall! That is as far back as I have ever "back bended" standing up all these years.

Then I promptly panicked. The realization that there was not enough strength to get that heavy head and upper body back up hit me. Tried to come out of the posture immediately and there was a rush of blood from somewhere to somewhere.. and the next thing I know, was sitting down on the mat. For a few moments, everything was white and the teachers voice could not be heard. She was saying something to me but my ears shut down. There were an uncountable number of Jedi warriors fighting in my forehead with light sabres.. or was it an uncountable number of people using vacuum cleaners?!  Maybe it was Jedi warriers with vacuum cleaners?! It was hard to tell.

For reasons unknown to me or anyone else in the Universe (except probably my wife), I got back up and kept going. At some point the teacher mentioned she was picking on me to make sure I didn't go into "auto pilot" mode. Translation: "Not going to let you make it easy on yourself. It is my job to make sure you push yourself past that point". Went along with it and did my best ever, on a lot of poses in that class. There was some cramping, but came out of that as well and finished it still breathing. To an average Nat Geo cameraman, it might not have been very impressive, but I came out of that class alive and well!

After class we are having a chat and the teacher goes "I was going to pick on my fiance who was in the class. Didn't pick on him enough. Was trying to make sure you don't take it easy on the 2nd class". I told her "you don't have to say anything to him, to pick on him. You just have to look at him!. When my wife looks at me, I know one of two things...

a. I forgot to do something or

b. I did something wrong in a way it was not supposed to be done

a look is enough!"

Everyone had a good laugh and I started driving back home...

Isn't life like Yoga?! In the almost 19 years of married life, there are the same emotions you go through on the mat that get repeated over longer time frames outside the yoga room. Everything from elation to disappointment, but only fleeting because you know it is all good in the end! and there is the red line..

When San gives me that look, I know that the first red line has been crossed! Something has been forgotten or done wrong. Now it is a question of seconds.. the clock is ticking. If the mistake can be identified within those precious few seconds, sanctions can be avoided and wars can be off the table. Problem is when you don't know that you have crossed the red line. 

This could happen when you have screwed up on multiple fronts and are trying to figure out which one got you that look from your wife. You forgot to wash the dishes.. no, you forgot to put the clothes in the dryer..no, she is at her laptop with that look.. you forgot to print and sign that damn thing at work and our printer at home is out of paper or toner or you were supposed to tell your boss something or you forgot to file your reimbursement or .. or.. or .. your head spins as you try to correct any and all mistakes within those few seconds.. kind of like you try to correct that standing bow with the teacher staring at you.. 

What have you done?! not lock that knee? not stretched that hand? not looking at the right place? not kicking hard enough? The teacher is still going "Sundar.. come on?" They won't tell you, what it is that you are not doing for an agonizing second or two!

(had some fun just now with Jr. recording me doing a standing bow that  I used to do almost 7 years ago, almost 3 years ago and close to present day.. right after munching a lot of carbs while watching Superbowl with friends)

That is when you cross the "double red line"!  Be it home or Yoga room.. that is the "don't make me come there and show you!" look which by now elicits a Pavlovian response from me :

1. Hang down head in shame

2. mutter something to myself

3. realize that I was definitely in the wrong, given my track record 

4. find out if there is any chance to undo the damage real fast

At home, chances of undoing damage fast are a hit or miss, but in the hot room... we do everything TWICE! Thank god for small favors. So I do get to show that what is being said has been understood and corrected in "take two"!

As I write this post, have crossed three red lines and one double red line already. But it shall pass. When you are surrounded by folks who have your back, life is good!

I love you.... "Rasna"

There was a time and place where an average summer morning would start with the temprature at 82F and by mid afternoon would hit 110 F. We were used to measuring it in C then in Chennai and those numbers definitely seemed smaller, and were easy to get used to. Never even think of the max temperatures.. we could see the road side tar start to melt. As kids we have scooped up semi molten tar to make small bouncy balls to use for cricket games. 

As a kid growing up in an Agraharam type environment (lets translate that to a Temple enclave), the drinks of choice for cooling down the system on hot summer evening were :

1. Water that was stored in a red clay pot with some cardamom husks in it. There was no refridgerator during our childhood days. Only when we were almost in middle school did the concept catch up. 

2. Really watered down buttermilk with some curry leaves and hing (asafoedita) thrown in aka "neermor"

3. The occasional "panagam" which was water from 1 above, but with some jaggery, cardamom, saffron etc. (sweet spices) 

Refridgerators and ice cubes became pletiful in every house all of a sudden, thanks to fridges becoming a commodity product and every family wanting it as a convenince or status symbol or both. There were two types of kids in my neighborhood. Kids who could give you "ice water" when you went to their house and kids who didnt! Let's just say that "ice water" kids were chosen to host cricket games with their street electric box as the chosen stumps... what I am trying to say is that other issues with street cricket were overlooked in favor of ice water!

That is when something dropped from the skies. It was called "Trinka"! It came in Orange, Grape and Lime flavors if memory serves me right. You got this packet of powder, had to prepare a concentrate with this powder by mixing it with a sugar syrup and then store it in the fridge. Then you could dilute that concentrate with water and ice and you had a refreshing drink. Eventually they did away with the powder and came up with a liquid concentrate bottle. 

We were Trinka's biggest fans. My mother was not a fan given the trinka concentrate I used to make took up a lot of sugar and the thing took a lot of space in the fridge. Eventually even the adults in the family were won over and it was a good "ice breaker". Trinka lowered down blood pressure levels of folks in the house on hot summer evenings. 

Then came competition. A new brand of concentrate for mixing flavored water came into market. This one had a packet of powder and a liquid that had to be mixed into a sugar syrup to make your own concentrate and it had a catchy name. RASNA! The advertising campaign for Rasna was a notch above Trinka. Cute kids were drinking Rasna and their parents were making it for them.. and they always ended the ads with kids smacking their lips and saying "I love you Rasna!"

We were and probably still are a loyal family. We don't switch brands easily. There is definitely a loyalty gene that runs in the family. So we stayed with Trinka even if its market share dropped. We would serve Trinka to folks and not exactly contradict them when they told us "thanks for the Rasna".. these were days before Coke and Pepsi were household names in the desi soft drink market. You could get Thumbs up (grape), Goldspot (orange) or Limca (lime) or the odd Goli Soda (fizz water). Then one day curiosity trumped loyalty and a packet of Rasna was obtained. It was tried and initially found to be too sour compared to Trinka. Then the young scientists in the family realized that this one needed different ratios for sugar and water and the "kosuru" water or sugar we used to add was not enough to compensate for rounding errors  in this case.

Rasna was given a second chance and this time it was a hit. By the time this happened, I was too busy studying for high school and before you know it, Mishrambu and Baba Tandai replaced Rasna. Used to come back from Banaras with bottles of Mishrambu to handle the Madras summer. We also switched to two milk based drink essenses which were bought from this store right between the LIC building and Alankar theater. One was Rose flavored and the other was Badam (almond) flavored. They were delicious and between those and Mishrambu.. Rasna was almost forgotten.

Fast forward a decade or more and we had a little Jr. craving something in summer. We were not going to give her carbonated drinks and she got tired of "Caprisun". So we went to a local Indian store and bought Rasna to give her a taste of something from my childhood. She loved it! We had five or six packets made into concentrate and that was it.

Why all this nostalgia for Rasna now?

Well, recently we have had a few hot days to put it mildly and when I came home, my hand was itching to find something other than water and ice. Have been mixing "Emergen-C" after yoga classes with cold water and ice. Hot summer day is one thing. Coming out of a 120F hot and humid room into a house that is showing 85F can be a little interesting. You never stop sweating post yoga class.  

San happened to be at the Indian store and I asked her to get a few Rasna packets. She came home to report the following conversation with the local Indian store guy

San : Where do you have Rasna?

Store kid (apparently in his 20's) : Maam, what is Rasna?

San : thought !@$%^&^%^@$^%&  and came home

at home :

Me: seriously, he asked you WHAT IS RASNA?

San : Apparenty Rasna is not a thing anymore!

Me : What is the world coming to? Okay, even if Rasna is not a thing anymore, how can a person in a desi store in his 20's not know what Rasna is?! 

Have to see if Rasna is still a thing in India these days.

In the meantime, we have to find a new concentrate that has the right ratio of sugar to orange that will not just help cool down on hot summer evenings, but bring back happy thoughts!

Missing you brother..

It is going to be almost 22 years since my older cousin passed. This week more than anything, have been thinking about some conversations we had when I first came to the USA. 

The week I came here, my room mate and me went to stay with him for three days to get a crash course on living in the USA, student life in the USA, literally a crash course.. 

As a kid, did not get to spend too much time with him except the occasional one hour visits every few years but we had a special wavelength to communicate. A few weeks after we were settling in, he picked us up and took us to Allentown from Philadelphia and we were having a fun time.  

I was up early. He came down in his pyjamas and goes "Murali, paal vaanga poren da.. let's go!". It was me, Ganesh(his cousin) and my cousin with him still driving in pyjamas. I was meekly asking "you are coming dressed like that ? " and he goes "it is a local grocery store. just because I have to go drive to the place doesnt mean I have to wear my pants".. and the lessons continued!

On the way back home we are having a conversation and suddenly he goes "I want you to settle down here. I know you want to go back, but I don't think you are going to go back". 

Told him "as soon as I finish my Ph.D. I am going back to be a professor in India" and he gave me his all knowing laugh. He said "my advice to you if you want to stay on that? don't get a drivers license here". 

He said "you should get your parents here also someday!" and I laughed. This was like picking doorknobs for a castle in the clouds. . . 

We go back into the house and he says "give me a few minutes. I am going to give you something!"

After a few minutes he comes back and hands me a very worn out book and says "this is yours now. I cherished this book. Want you to have it. Read it and it might change your mind!"

It says Mali, Vandy 1979.. He got his Ph.D. from Vanderbilt and I am guessing Vandy stands for Vanderbilt. Mali, aka Balan came to the US in 1977. Do not know the history behind this book. Don't know who gave him that book or if he bought it. It was already 10+ years old at that point. (corrected the age of that book.. got it wrong first time)

Read that book that same weekend. While it made me appreciate the US of A in a different way, my mind was still not changed at that point. That book has travelled with me over the years and I am going to make Jr. and the little one read it someday. 

Recently there was an interesting discussion at a Navarathri party. It was the theroy that the USA belonging to the whites settlers who first came to this country.  It was an Indian guy who was not a citizen mentioning this and he was comparing the USA to a large company and he said that the latest employees of the company cannot except the same treatment as the founders and early employees. He was being sympathetic to some of his colleagues who genuinely felt that this was their advantage and put forward that analogy.

I found that interesting because my view of the USA is not that of an established company. If you say that about countries that have had an ancient culture and civilization and a predominantly homogenized population maybe.. like India, China, Egypt, you might have a point. The United States is like a startup. There are guys who came in with the seed (idea and money) and as the company grew, they went from Series A to B to C to.. In every round there are new investors (blood sweat and tears) and stake holders (folks buying into our economy), new folks come in to make a contribution to the company that are vital to moving it forward. Before you know it, it takes a village to make this company go on its course. The European folks who came there were series A, the Black folks  series B, the Asians series C...if you want to think about it that way.. and there are new waves of folks who will come and continue to make this country better. On a timescale of few hundred years, the USA is a startup and it is an evolving startup at that. Sure the series A stock holders get a better deal, but as new investors come in, there are new board members, new VP's, go ask any guy who has been part of a startup as it matures!

After that discussion, I was thinking "maybe I should go give this book to a bunch of folks". Did come home to read some pages of that book and was thinking about my brother again. May not have had quantity time with the dude, but defiintely had quality time. As I sit here typing this, it feels like he is right next to me grinning.. 

He is probably laughing at my drivers license, shaking his head and going "Told you so!"