Modi in the US

On my MBA group chat yesterday there was a lively discussion on Jayalalitha and her arrest, and Modi’s US visit. Then someone mentioned that Modi and Amma were dominating the news in India, so Preeti, how does it look in NYC?

I quickly looked at the WSJ that I subscribe to, and saw only a picture of an Indian tattooing an American. It was captioned ‘As New Leader Arrives in U.S., Indians celebrate Art of Diplomacy.’ Modi’s visit was covered on the 16th page. Then I heard Modi’s speech in the UN and today at Madison Square Garden. 

I am a happy Indian today.

 It is just as well that we are not Page 1 news in the US. Page 1 news here is about terrorism in the Middle-east, conflict in Ukraine, the humanitarian crisis in Sudan, and other national news. News is about countries asking the US to intervene and set things right in their respective countries. News is about countries wanting aid because they can’t support the development efforts all by themselves. 

That’s all fine, and shows the power of the US, and its commitment to world peace and order. It is a tough crown to bear for the one country that everyone wants to migrate to!

I am proud that Modi did not come with a begging bowl to the US. He has come to contribute to the US economy - by striking deals worth $3 billion in U.S. Arms. India is a valuable  market for US companies whose growths are stagnant on their home turf and for them it is critical that Indo-US relations be amiable.  Modi came to meet those thousands of Indians who have made the US their home and are successful in their careers and businesses.Whether ABCDs or traditional , most of them are Indophiles at heart. Modi came to sell the  dream of India - with its educated youth, and an ancient culture and abundance of offerings. He made it clear that he wanted peace with his neighbors, but the hallowed halls of the UN was not where they were going to find it - Kashmir is  not up for discussion with the International community.

I am a fence sitter where Modi is concerned,  but so far away from home, Modi made me very proud. He does not mince his words. That alone speaks volumes for me. Yes India has huge problems, but we don’t need external help to resolve those. We don’t have to go with  hands stretched out for doles to other countries to support us. We don’t need anyone except for Pakistan to solve the Kashmir issue amicably, and we can deal with China all by ourselves. We have conflict in pockets but India, as a whole, is not a conflict zone - that is heartening. 

On my MBA group chat, we were discussing regional divides between North and South India, between Tamil Nadu and its neigbors, between Bengalis, Biharis and Punjabis, but everyone was unanimous...Modi is ours. Whether we like him or not, we were proud of him representing us at the UN and US. 

Sometimes we Indians forget how lucky we are. With limited resources and infrastructure, huge social, gender  and economic divides and scores of religions, we do just fine. We are fiercely proud of our cultural heritage but it is time we looked at the distance we have covered since Independence.Yes, there is much to be done, but lots has also been achieved. We need to celebrate those successes. 

Among the things I admire about the Americans, the one I like the most is their nationalistic pride. They are so proud to be called Americans - Everything flows from that pride - including civic sense, integrity at work, supporting local businesses and demanding better customer service. 

That sense of nationalism is the one thing we definitely need to import from the US and then, India will be truly India Shining. 

My 15 seconds of fame

Three weeks before Unravel was to release, I got an email from one of the leading newspapers in UK. They had picked up the “Preeti Singh or Pat Smith” article on talkingcranes.com  and wanted to interview me on it.

I was terribly delighted...this is one of the biggest, most respected newspapers in the UK. I never would have gained access to them so easily.  I believe that when you want something, the universe comes together to give it to you. The timing was impeccable.  Unravel was going to be launched in three weeks, and coverage in that newspaper would give me an instant boost. 

I sent in my responses to their queries. I told them what had happened, and how I had felt. 

I had sent the blog with a little note to those five literary agents who had responded to Pat Smith, not Preeti Singh, and four of them wrote back to me. Their responses bordered from the humble to incredible.

 One claimed that the blog had been sent in error to them because they had never received the Preeti Singh ms. The second one said that the error was committed by some junior intern who had sifted through the manuscripts at the time. A third charmingly wrote that the Preeti Singh ms got drowned in the deluge of manuscripts they typically receive in the end winter/spring season; the Pat Smith ms got noticed because it was sent in the summers, traditionally a slow period for them.

The fourth was polite and pretty upfront. They apologized that an error had been made, and these errors can happen sometimes because there is a certain comfort with names they are familiar with. 

We do know subtle racism, and everyone faces it at one time or another - because of the color of one’s skin or accent, country or religion, and even one’s name or traditional attire. I was not shocked , merely surprised because literature is all about stories and different voices. 

The editor was empathetic, and very professional. Just before they were to publish the story, she asked me to send her the email exchanges with the literary agents as proof that such an event had occurred. It is the newspaper’s policy to verify the authenticity of the event. I respect that - it shows the integrity of the newspaper, unlike the many tabloids that sensationalize news without finding out if it is true or not. 

As I put together the emails to send to the editor, something snapped in me. I took a step back from the whole situation. Did I really want to do this? Did I want to put my experience down to a case of racism, and did I want justice ? Did I want to put myself out there as a victim of discrimination? Was that the way I wanted to be known? Was there any wrong doing after all?

Perhaps there was wrong doing, perhaps there was none, but it was definitely not a life-changing event for me.

 I may be delusional, but I have never bothered with discrimination of any sort - I have shown the middle finger, literally and figuratively, to anyone who has tried to put me in my ‘place’ because of my gender, religion, community, country, education, blah blah blah. I have done whatever it is that I set out to do, and have found a measure of success. 

Eventually, I declined to send the emails from the literary agents to the editor.This meant that they would not mention my name or carry my story. I was letting go of a golden opportunity to get my 15 seconds of fame, and to promote Unravel. 

Surprisingly, I felt okay about that. The whole exercise had been a fun thing - not necessarily to prove a point to someone. I did not want to be at the centre of a debate that I had not wanted to start. I felt uncomfortable about it snowballing into something I had no control over. Importantly, I did not want to set this example for my children -  that they can blame their failure to things like racism, discrimination and so on. 

It is so easy to feel like a victim and to want the world to make it right for you. If I succumbed to that feeling, it would be criminal, almost a sin. I am incredibly blessed with great things and people in my life. Every day, I meet amazing people, strangers even, who are gracious and kind to me.They all help me realize my dreams - small and big, significant or unimportant. A person like me has no business complaining. 

I did feel a momentary pang of regret at passing up the opportunity. Had I sent the emails, I would have been part of a nice, engaging, incisive article on discrimination in literary circles - in one of the finest newspapers in the world.  That would have boosted sales of Unravel and I would have been famous, without even trying hard!!

But then, those 15 seconds of fame would never prove to me if I was indeed worthy of fame or had the talent to make a writing career. I am happier like this- letting it all unravel, one thread at a time!

Come September

Schools began early September, and I was reminded of this time a year ago….

We moved into Scarsdale at the end of August2013. Beautiful neighborhood, charming houses. Nice.

What we missed in Scarsdale were people. Those big houses must have people in them I thought, and there must be children in those too! After all, Scarsdale is supposed to be one of the best school districts in NY. And where there are children, there must be noise. But the neighborhood was quiet. Quiet as a mouse. The only sound was that of the lawnmovers and cicadas.

In those first few days, my ears hurt with the absence of noise.

Until the first day of school in September when Scarsdale seemed to wake up from its long summer. All of a sudden, much as in the Pied Piper of Hamelin, kids started to pour out of every house. I was astonished to see that my street had so many kids of different ages. They stood on the street waiting for their various school buses. The High School kids with their noses in their phones, unwilling to make eye contact with anyone else. The Middle Schoolers chatting away, and the Elementary ones with their grand parents or parents who were also making conversation.

The whole place buzzed with the kind of happy noise only children can make.

There was a sharp increase in traffic that day. More than five cars at the traffic signal seems like a jam on regular days, but that day there were scores of cars at every traffic signal. And just like everywhere in the world, people were breaking rules with impunity…zooming off at the orange light going red, cutting into the line to beat traffic, honking impatiently. And ofcourse, there was traffic police manning all important junctions, making sure children walking to school were safe.

That first day of school, people spilled out on to the roads. Mothers started their fitness regime after dropping kids to school, people caught up for coffee and breakfast in the little cafes at the Village.The Library was full of people, and toddlers were there for their day of singalong with the guitar man.

I was relieved to find out that Scarsdale did indeed have a fairly large population, and there were loads of children to fill up those beautiful school buildings! I was also amused that like a perfect school village,  Scarsdale springs into life primarily during school days and hours. After these spikes, Scarsdale folds back into its peace and quiet.

Over the next few days I got used to all the noise and traffic. I learnt that traffic spikes happen three times in the day. Mornings are the worst because various schools start between 8 and 8.15 am and the office goers make a beeline for the 8.18 or 8.32 train to make it to Manhattan on time. Afternoons when schools get over and then 6-7 pm when trains get officegoers back are not the ideal times to go for a walk ,grocery shopping or a Starbucks coffee! I learnt that there will always be that one driver who will edge his/her way into the traffic at the Middle School, oblivious to the danger to the kids . And Seniors in HS are young adults and will speed, play loud music and show off in their cars!

I find it charming. And so very different from Mumbai which is constantly buzzing – with traffic, with people, with everything on the go – all the time. Except ofcourse, when the local political party declares a shutdown and people are forced to be indoors, or when an important cricket match is on! Then the lack of noise outdoors hurts the ears there too!

Letting it Unravel

Unravel got launched this week...not with great pomp like a JK Rowling or  Ravi Subramaniam book. But it was BIG for me. To see the result of something that had consumed my mind go live on Amazon and other sites was , to say the least, overwhelming. 

When I held the first copy of Unravel in my hand, I was a bit stunned. I couldn’t believe I had written something that was over 200 pages long. I had always loved reading and tried to fathom how people wrote so much. I never thought I had it in me.

Perhaps, grief, anger, bitterness and other negative emotions have a way of worming themselves into one’s heart. As I learnt to cope with my own crises, I developed a greater sensitivity to what was happening around me. I realized that happy , calm faces hid great pain. Loads of money or success did not necessarily mean more happiness and peace. Couples that seemed to be so well put together, were actually putting up a facade, for the sake of their children, businesses or society. All that glitters was not gold and almost everyone was winging it. 

It is about love, and its absence or loss. Love for our children, spouses, families, friends ,lovers and work. We struggle with what we love, and who we fall in love with.  We place our loved ones on a pedestal and forgive them because of our love for them . We make sacrifices and sell our souls to make them happy.  We change to make ourselves lovable to them. We want them with us and we cling, hoping they will never leave . When they do go away, show their clay feet or betray us,  they carve out a piece of us...and in trying to repair that hole in the heart, we unravel. 

I figured - at some basic level, everyone unravels. Some hide it well or have better coping mechanisms. A few talk about it while others choke internally, trying to make method of their madness. Some take a higher moral ground and take no responsibility. Still others are angry enough to destroy themselves in order to destroy the person who betrayed them. Some get life threatening diseases because of what they are going through. 

Some unraveling has societal sanction, and others are worthy of disdain. And there are strange situations where everyone feels like a victim, and there is no way to put things right. At each point I wondered  - How did this person make it through? Is there a right or a wrong in anything? Can things be set right? Is forgiveness over-rated? Can you really judge anyone? Who are you finally answerable to? Is there Karma? Instant Karma?

I felt relief when I was done with Unravel. It is draining to tell a story that may or may not have a happy ending. 

Today though, I feel sad that the one person who would have been awfully proud of me, even though she could not read - my granny - did not live to see it. Unfortunately, her life ended at the point where Unravel begins....I so wish I had not begun the story like that.... 

Tomorrow I know, I will have a palate for another set of stories, but right now, the anxiety, bitterness, anger, pain, happiness and gratitude -  at all that made Unravel happen for me - makes it a very bittersweet end to this amazing journey.