“Dad, I want to go to Europe during spring break. I have saved enough money to pay for it”.
“Is this a sudden plan? How many of you are going?”, I asked the nineteen year old.
“Well, I will be going just by myself. I want to go to Berlin and then Prague. But I want to pay for it myself”

Ummm… payment was not the thing uppermost in my mind. I was probably quiet for a few seconds. Sensing not everything to be in order, she asked again “Are you okay with it?”
“You know mom will have conniptions about this, right?”, I tried avoiding her question directly.
“Yes. But what do you think?”

A few more seconds. Too many thoughts flashed by…

“Yes. I will be okay. Stay safe and make sure you are always in touch with mom and me. I will talk to mom and we will straighten this out”.
“But, I will pay for this dad”.
“I get it.”

Next few days was some hectic planning for the travel. When it comes to travel, I am a confirmed romantic. Nothing gets me more excited than finding out the best way to fly somewhere and where to stay and all that. There is something extremely exciting about planning for a trip – let alone the trip itself.

However, at that moment, when I kept the phone down after talking to Natasha, my mind raced back to an incident thirty five years or so back. I was barely sixteen and had just finished my tenth grade exams and I had a few months of summer vacation at hand.

I had walked up to my mom and said “Mom, I want to go see grandpa”. Grandpa – my mother’s dad – was not keeping particularly well and I had not seen him for a few years. My mom and dad – both of whom worked – had not had much time to visit him either. First, I had the all important tenth grade exams and just before that my grandma (dad’s side) had passed away at our place after suffering from cancer for two years. They had had no time to go check on my grandpa.

My mom immediately dismissed me. “You will go when your uncle goes to visit him”. (uncle being my mother’s brother who lived not too far from us)
“But I want to go by myself”.
“Do you know where your grandfather lives?”
“No. But I know the village name. I can ask my uncle how to go there”.

My grandfather had retired from work and then moved back to his ancestral home in a remote village. I had never ever gone to that village – nor knew how to get there.

“Talk to your dad when he comes back from office”.
I went off to sleep too tired to wait for my dad who was going to finish his late shift and come home that night.

Next day, first thing in the morning, I accosted dad. “Dad, I want to go visit grandpa”
“Why?”
“I just want to. He is not doing well.”
“Is uncle going?”
“No. I want to go by myself”
“Is a friend going with you?”
“No. I can ask Avijit. But I want to go by myself”
“So, you just want to travel by yourself, right?”
“Actually, yes”, I finally sheepishly accepted. I just wanted to make a point that I have traveled by myself. I could have gone to Timbuktu for all I cared. I had come up with the idea of grandpa thinking I would approach mom at her weakest point.

Dad looked at me. And then looked down. Could not have been more than a few seconds. It was eternity for me.
“Dad, please. I will be fine”, I pleaded.
He finally looked up and said – “Okay. I will talk to mom” and then laid down some rules for travel.
“Yes?”, I remember having almost yelled. Completely surprised, I might add.
“I had to get out of home at an earlier age to look for food. You should be able to do this”. And then he repeated the rules – lest I had not heard the first time.

Talking to Natasha over the phone the other day, I finally felt I was with my dad in those silent moments before I said Yes to Natasha. I realized that just like me on this day, he too would have flashed thru some worst case scenarios in his mind that day. These were days without any phone services. And by that I mean – no phone services – forget mobile – no land lines either. There were no Google maps. You just asked people for directions and help.

Once I left home, the only thing that was known was that I was going to return on a particular day. That was one of the rules dad had laid out. I was to be home the morning of the third day from when I left. Another rule, I remember he had for me was to wake up early in the morning to go anywhere. If I did not reach by 3 PM, I had to give up and make the return trip. Those days, there were no hotels – and certainly, even if there were, we could not afford it. (I had spent less than 50 rupees – or about 85 cents in today’s money) in that whole trip.

Somehow, me remembering my dad telling me “You should be able to do this” weighed very heavy during my silent moments with Natasha. I realized that the child had become the father of the man. I was put exactly where I had put my dad.

To finish up the story… Natasha is having a great time in Europe and she is keeping in touch with us multiple times every day.

While I did not have the maturity to realize then what my dad had gone thru mentally, I do now. I have a deeper empathy for the balancing act of all the worst fears and yet being able to let a child grow up that he had to go thru then.

One bus trip, two train rides and another bus trip later, I finally had gotten down at the bus stop close to our house. It was in the morning of the third day, as I was told. My dad was there at the bus stop!!

I now realize that I have never asked him how long had he been waiting at the bus stop (with obviously no information from my side – and heaven knows what he must have gone thru those couple of days). You see, that day I was too busy walking briskly ten feet ahead of him as he followed me – I was too mad that he had embarrassed me in front of our neighbors by coming to pick me up from the bus stop.

Sigh!

Strange are the ways how life reminds you that it works in great arcs …

I am glad I came to this juried art show. Looks like Sharmila picked up an award. You want to know what I appreciate most in these art shows? Did I mention that they have free wine? 🙂

… playing volleyball in the yard, learning new words, playing board games by the fireplace on a cold day… doing math together is still my most favorite!!!

Tonight was solving radical equations!!

This is a classic demand supply problem. Remember that event that I talked about who called up Sharmila to tell her that she needed to drop more paintings because they had sold off all her paintings?

Well, they called again today to say they are done with second batch too and need more.

Guess what? Most of the other paintings she wants to put up for sale are actually now in other events or galleries. She is trying to see if they want to take other category of paintings she has for sale.

Meanwhile, I have an idea. I am thinking of doing some paintings myself and sign her name on it. Seems like the fastest return to investment to me 🙂

www.sharmilaroy.gallery

After missing the cut for two years, Sharmila was finally an invited artist to the “Spotlight on Art” event in Atlanta (Trinity School). I went there for the opening night. Not that I know which end of a painting brush to hold. OR which is oil and which is acrylic. But I am a sucker for these art events since they always give free wine to the artists and their guests!!!

Apparently, this is a big event. I had to wait a long time to get my wine. First, cops turned me away saying parking was full. Finally, I had to take a shuttle. Then I could barely get inside the exhibition. If it were not that cold outside, I would have just stood out. After about a couple of hours, there was enough space to fight my way to bar counter. Of course, then getting to a spot without having others spill my wine as they jostled around me was a challenge unto itself.

Eventually, late in the night, I could go around and see all the paintings. Also took a few pictures of Sharmila around her paintings. And one where the painting handlers were wrapping up one of her painting for a buyer.

That reminds me. As I mentioned before, she was invited on her third attempt. And on day 2 (today), she got a call from them to bring on more paintings – they were all sold out on the ones from her they had put up yesterday!!

I might go back for some more wine 🙂

The day started at 4 am. Natasha had a morning flight to New York. I tried taking the car out. Could not even get past the driveway. Fishtailed it dangerously close to bringing down the fence a couple of times. Aborted it and got back into the garage and switched her flights to the evening.

Now that I was up, there was only one other thing I could do. Get out in the cold weather and attempt a run. Six layers on top, four layers below, three layers of socks (with grocery bags in between two layers to prevent getting wet), three layers on the head and a ski mask and off I went out in windchill temperatures of minus 4 degrees. (minus 20 Celsius).

Getting up to my gate itself was a big chore. My drive to the gate has three steep turns and I kept slipping down with every step. Eventually, got off the road and went thru the forest catching the trees on the way to give me balance.

Once on top of the hill, there was not a soul to be found. No marks on the road whatsoever save a set of tire marks and few scattered deer hoof marks. Running was out of the question. Tried a couple of times and nearly face planted myself every time. Went for the next best option – walked for two and a half miles (4K).

It was absolutely desolate. Not a single sign of life anywhere in the vast whiteness you could see any which way. Every time I looked back, there was only one set of footsteps on the road – mine own. The walk to the destination was not too bad. It was cold, undoubtedly. But I was dressed up for it. As long as I did not try to hurry up, I had enough grip on the surface to walk at a 17 min/mile pace.

The trouble started on my way back. What I had not realized – due to the outer layer of wind breaker – is that I had a strong 16 mph wind behind my back. As I turned around, it hit me squarely in the face. A few square inches of skin that was exposed in my face started burning . The wind was starting to make it thru the breathing holes in my ski mask too.

The best option for me at that point was to put my face down and put one my hands up close to the face and block the howling wind. The plan worked fine till I realized that the angle of my face made all the exhaled breath to go into my glasses which were so frigid that they fogged up. In one misguided and somewhat desperate moment, I tried to wipe the glasses with my gloves. That pretty much blurred up the rest of the glasses.

Now, I had vision of about a couple of yards from the lower end of the glasses. Everything else was blurry white. This is where the one set of tire marks – somebody in the morning made it out on the road – came in handy. The safest way to stay on the road, I figured was to stay in between the tire marks that I could see with my limited visibility.

Half a mile of devoid of any incidence later, I was feeling smug about my scheme to stay between the tire marks. In an immediate irony, that is when I also realized that I was in a ditch. It turns out whoever drove the truck in the morning missed the road at a turn and got into a ditch. And I had faithfully followed it. Straining to look at the tire marks in the yonder while lifting my face, I was pretty impressed by what I saw. The tire marks clearly showed that one side of the vehicle was in the ditch and the other side was still on the road – a clear two feet difference in height. Which is what made me conclude that it must have been a truck or SUV to have that much clearance.

The driver did not instinctively try to get the truck back on the road. Instead looks like she/he drove further off the road, making the side on the ditch climb up a little on the other wall of the ditch and reduced the tilt of the vehicle. Eventually the ditch evened out and you could see the truck had gotten back on the road. I further realized, at that point that all that deductive logic and marveling at the presence of mind of the driver was not taking me an inch closer to home. Which is when I climbed out of the ditch and trudged back towards home once again.

I cannot count that as a run, given the pace. So, we will mark it down as a 4K walk in minus 4 degree temperatures.

Score one for Mother Nature and me!!!

… like sit down with daddy for math at 6 in the morning!!!

How is it my fault that I did not realize that those egg puffs were not for me? (Apparently they were for the kids. In my defense, they were all sleeping. And the puff had eggs!!)

Now, that terrible sense of humor? Okay, that is my fault totally !! 🙂