After the whole day on the beach, took my mother in law back to the beach at 9PM. There were a large number of fireworks going on. There were people with splendid fireworks every 200 yards or so on the beach.

My mother in law was suitably impressed with the amount of fireworks, the brilliance of the fireworks (she has seen nothing like this before) and above all the enthusiasm of American citizens in celebrating the Independence Day.

After forty five minutes, she started her slow walk on the sand back to the hotel. She stopped in between, look up to the hotel – which was less than thirty yards away – and said disapprovingly of the Marriott Vacation hotel “era thik korlo na. chhade tuni-bulb laagatey paarto”

🙂

Looking back, maybe, it was not such a great idea introducing my mother-in-law to Snapchat. I was trying to show her a Snapchat from Tasha. But, by the time she was done adjusting her glasses and orienting the phone in the bright sunlight, the photo had destroyed itself since the time period was over.

First, she refused to believe me that the photo was gone. She kept turning the phone around and cleaning her glasses to see if I was just pulling her leg. When she demanded to know why would anybody want to send pictures that would vanish after a few seconds, I was truly stumped on how to explain it in a way she would believe me. I could have cited Anthony Weiner but thought the better of it 🙂

Eventually, Sharmila told her that I was telling the truth. She is now totally confused.

My friend Nandita posted a nice picture from New York of fireworks there on Facebook. I showed it on my iPad to my mother in law. Her first question? “eta kotokkhon thakbey?” (“How long will this pic remain?”) 🙂

Now I am afraid every time I show her a picture on my camera, she will ask me to take a quick printout 🙂

My mother in law sat down in the lounge chair in the beach under the umbrella that I had rented wearing her traditional Indian saree and all that. (I can’t get her to move from a saree to a more comfortable churidar – let alone jeans or long pants or shorts).

She sat down, surveyed the whole beach full of Fourth of July beach-goers and quickly realized one simple math: she had, on herself, more fabric of cloth than all the other beach goers, put together!! Unlike the Niagara Falls, there was not a single other Indian to be found as far as the eyes could see on that hot beach horizon to bend that mathematical curve. Curious, she asked me “Why are they all dressed like that”. To completely throw her off, I said “Oh! They are all jealous of us. They are trying to get tanned in the sun to get their skin to look like ours”.

Well, that did not compute in her mind either. For, she responded with another intriguing question “Tobey amra keno sabaan ghose-e mejhh-e oder moto hobar chesta korchhi”? (Roughly translated, “then why are we all trying to scrub ourselves down with Sandalwood soap to get skin like theirs?”

Touché! That was the richest irony ever!!

(For my non-Indian friends, in India there is a very interesting culture where your skin color seems to matter a lot. Fairer skin is somehow considered superior. In looks, during matchmaking etc etc etc. )

As seen in Sharmila’s sunglasses. (see inset)