19 till I die

It was Republic Day yesterday. My heart swells with pride and my eyes well with tears when I hear a crowd singing "Jana Gana Mana". Whistling Vande Mataram gives me the same peace as prayer. I've expressed often how much I like being in my country, with my people, my languages, my music and food. My stay abroad reminded me how much I need them in my life. There'd be talk in the ether, never in my immediate surroundings, how foreigners shouldn't come to our great nation, in the US. We all, my colleagues and friends of any background, thought of people as ignorant and closed minded. And yet, I didn't know I had a bit of Xenophobia in me. The other day, about a month go, in IIT Kanpur, some friends and I were lounging over coffee. There was a caucasian gentleman at a table nearby. I was telling some story about accents... or the tightness of families... or something else, I can't remember. I described someone of English descent as Firangi. A friend of min

In this day and age where finding a spouse is tough, (or has is always been so?) bowing to the needs of the family complicates matters. I hold the need to keep my parents close to me throughout my life, very close to my heart. And yet, I don't see how they can possibly judge for me who would best be my companion for life. And so, we've agreed on their suggesting girls that they approve of and me speaking to them for some length time to know whether we click. Through this process, I met someone who is, what I thought was all I can ask for in a girl. I mentioned to close cousins that all I ask is a workable roommate. Talking to people has corrected that notion. The girl I was speaking of, picked the profession she wanted to pursue early on, studied in lofty institutions, is independent and knows what she wants from life. Dream spouse, if you had asked me many months ago. When we met, no sparks flew on either side. To expect them to have, would have been adolescent. Thanks t