Delightful Rabbit Holes and Deliciously-Meandering Lanes

The last few weeks have been different: I’ve started reading just for the pleasure of it again. After a long time. Let me explain.

In the past few years, since I started writing seriously, I have somewhat lost my way around reading. Writing takes up a lot of my time and energy, which means I have that much less of both to put into reading (serious readers know that even if reading is something we cherish, it doesn’t always happen without conscious time and effort on our part). So, I read less than I did before I began to write.

The two-fold irony of the situation doesn’t escape me. I’m acutely aware that: a) I became a writer because I’d been an avid and eclectic reader my entire life and b) one of the habits that adds depth and body to my writing is reading regularly and voraciously across all genres.

Be that as it may, reading had eventually become work. Well, sort of. I read—fiction, nonfiction, craft-books—to “learn” (what NOT to do as much as what to do), or “improve” (my craft), or “critique” (in case of my CPs’ work) or “build” (up my writing muscles and keep them flexed). In all this—even though I was aware that it was happening and bemoaned the fact in one of my earlier blog posts—I’d lost my best friend of decades: reading just for the joy of reading.

And then a few weeks back, I woke up to a new day, shiny as a freshly-minted penny. Having just finished a major revision and packed off the WIP to my agent, I was a bundle of nerves and energy. So, idly, I picked up a book my daughter had read and recommended: SHE WOULD BE KING by Wayetu Moore. And I promptly plunged into a rabbit hole of the most pleasant, multi-pronged and diverse kind possible.

The book had all the qualities that I adore: a well-written historical with a touch of magical realism, but its best feature? It introduced me to a time period in the history of a region (West Africa) I hadn’t read much about before. I devoured that book in a couple of days and haven’t looked back since.

(If you’re interested in exploring the history and narratives of the various West African countries through fiction, I also highly recommend HOMEGOING by Yaa Gyasi and PURPLE HIBISCUS by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, though I must warn you, reader, each of these books will rip your heart into little pieces and then put it back again bit by bloody bit. But be prepared for the grief and heartache—and horror from the depravity of humankind against its own—to pulse just beneath your skin’s surface for a long time.)

Next up on my immediate TBR pile: THINGS FALL APART (a masterpiece set in Nigeria) by the lauded Chinua Achebe, UNTIL THE LIONS (retelling of the MAHABHARATA, one of the most acclaimed epic texts from India, from the viewpoint of its hitherto minor or sidelined female characters and in such stunning verse that the book demands more than one read) by Karthika Nair, REALM OF ASH (the second installment in the fantastical and fantastic BOOKS OF AMBHA series, also set in India) by Tasha Suri, and more.

(Can you see me drooling yet? 😊)

Wish you all, my readers, a very happy and contended (by your own definition) year ahead.

May you all find compelling rabbit holes into which to tumble headfirst—or to paraphrase Jane Austen: find more lanes hereabouts in which you may lose your way again to-day—willingly and willfully.

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My Pitch Wars 2016 Success Interview

Below is my interview (alongside my mentor Holly Faur) with details of my writing process, my takeaway from Pitch Wars revision process, how I connected with my literary agent Jaida Temperly, and a few fun facts about Holly and me. (This interview was first published in Brenda Drake’s website on June 21, 2017.)

Here’s Part 1 of my experience as a mentee of Pitch Wars 2016.

Hema Penmetsa. Twitter: @hemapen

Hema is the author of BEYOND THE CARVED WALLS, a novel set in the famine and war-ravaged Mughal India of the 1500s. She writes historical fiction on an intimate scale that shines light on the lives of unsung heroes: women who embody courage and grace and rise above their restrictive circumstances. As a compulsive writer and lifelong devotee of the world’s vibrant cultures, she is committed to promoting diversity in published novels. She lives with her family in Texas—locked in a perennial battle against the heat to keep her precious garden alive—but she grew up in India to bedtime tales involving its rich past and alternate histories.

Hema, what was it about Holly that made you choose to send her a Pitch Wars application?

The first time I read Holly’s wish list, I couldn’t believe my eyes—it was as though she was asking exactly for my novel.

Then I researched her Twitter presence and author website, and like I mentioned in my previous Pitch Wars interview, I found that she was easygoing and had a wonderful sense of humor (two crucial qualities in someone with whom, with any luck, I’d be working closely for the next two months and hopefully developing a lasting friendship).

So, Holly took the top spot on the list of my mentor choices (along with five other fabulous mentors who were also looking for themes like mine). As I began working with her, I realized that I couldn’t have chosen better, because Holly has this way of infusing you with self-confidence and a quiet purpose that helps you to keep moving forward.

Holly, what was it about Hema’s BEYOND THE CARVED WALLS that hooked you?

The query hooked me right away since it was filled with everything I wanted: places new to me, strong women, and diversity. Her pages proved she had an amazing sense of story and I was caught up with the MC on page one—and she hadn’t even tempted me with descriptions of Indian cuisine yet! But what I loved the most was the obvious care and respect in which she wrote about a difficult time in India.

Hema, tell us about the revision process for Pitch Wars?

Holly first sent me an edit letter with suggestions of over-arching changes and structural improvements. After she line-edited half of my whopping 400-page book (so that I could carry over the edits through the rest of the book), she sent me a second edit letter with detailed suggestions that were specific to scenes and individual character arcs.

Once we discussed (over emails and phone conversations) our mutual vision both for the big changes and smaller tweaks, every time I added a new scene or made huge alterations, I’d send her the word file (with track changes on) at the end of the day. She’d read the additions and suggest tightening them in places. I believe this micro-critiquing helped the process of final line edits that much smoother and kept it all from overwhelming either of us. Once I finished revising the entire book, I sent it off to Holly again. She graciously read it one more time and gave some more line-edit suggestions, which I finished quickly.

And that was how I ended up with a novel that was shiny as a new penny by the time the agent round rolled in. Although it was a grueling and exhausting two-month period of non-stop writing, revising and re-editing, I wouldn’t change a single thing about the process.

Holly, tell us about your experience mentoring Hema.

I learned so much! One reason I love manuscripts like Hema’s is that I’m always looking to learn about and embrace the world in new ways, and what better way than by story? We also brainstormed a lot, finding ways to move scenes around, or adding more feeling and descriptions. We kept going, even after the agent round, and I’m so excited this manuscript has found an agent home.

Hema, after Pitch Wars, you signed with Jaida Temperly of New Leaf Literary and Media Inc. Please, tell us about “The Call.” We love all the details about the offer, how they contacted you, how you responded, celebrations, emotions . . . How long did you have to wait and how did you distract yourself? Anything! We love hearing about all of it.

Suzie Townsend, Jaida Temperly’s colleague at New Leaf, was one of the agents who had requested my full manuscript as part of Pitch Wars agent round. But she soon decided that my novel might align better with Jaida’s tastes and shared it with her. Within a week, Jaida read my full and absolutely loved the setting and my voice, but she believed some plot points needed further fleshing out. After an exchange of a couple of emails, we had an hour-long phone conversation during which I got to learn not only just how much Jaida believed in my novel’s premise but also how well she understood “story” at both macro and micro levels. By the end of the call, I was determined to revise based on her input asap. Which was exactly what I did and updated her (and all the other agents who already had my full either through Pitch Wars agent round or my cold queries) with the revised version. Much to my pleasant shock, within two days I received an offer of representation from a (different) fabulous and noted agent!

I couldn’t have timed “The Call” better myself if I’d had any control over it, because I was scheduled to leave on vacation early the next morning. Things got pretty hectic that day once I hung up the phone, because I had to send a million “I have an offer” nudge-emails to all the other agents who had my full and also those whom I’d cold-queried and hadn’t heard from yet. Although I had to field quite a few emails with questions, new requests and regretful step-asides from agents while I was on vacation, going away with family and enjoying the sights of a new city proved to be the best distraction. I also had a long and (quite fun!) chat with an established client of the offering agent and that conversation helped settle my nerves because it reinforced my own impression that the agent was not only wonderfully professional but also personable and kind. Once I returned home, I received three more offers (for each of which I am still humbled and immensely grateful), which led to more phone calls, obsessive online research, frantic comparison of agency contracts, and more back and forth emails.

One of those latter offers was from Jaida. She emailed saying she loved re-entering the world I had created in my book and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since she’d read it first a few weeks ago, and she was thrilled to offer me representation. I talked to her at length again, where she outlined a detailed vision (which totally matched mine again) for revisions. She also came prepared with a list of editors and imprints to whom she’d like to submit once the book was ready. That clinched it for me, and I soon signed with her.

Hema, how do you feel Pitch Wars helped with your success?

Pitch Wars has made a huge contribution to where I am today as a writer. I learned not only better revising and editing techniques through the process, but I also became aware of my strengths and weaknesses (which is invaluable for a writer like myself who’s in it for the long haul). Also, the several requests I garnered through the agent round led me to believe that my story has a market, which helped me to keep faith and stand true to my premise. Ultimately, I connected with Jaida—even if a bit indirectly—through Pitch Wars!

In addition, I made wonderful and lasting connections. Holly has been—and continues to be—a huge support; I’m seriously awed by the mentors’ generosity and commitment to helping virtual strangers succeed. And I made several new friends from among my fellow mentees, which is brilliant.

To me Pitch Wars represents everything that’s positive about the writing scene in the US.

Now for some fun! The following questions are for you both to answer.

If you could live in any fictional world and take everything you love with you, where would you choose to live? What would you do there? And why this world?

Hema: I grew up in India on a steady diet of classics. So, I happened to read THE SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON by Jonathan David Wyss very early on and that book set my imagination on fire. Oy! Just the thought of living permanently on top of a tree and setting off on a different adventure each day made me starry-eyed. I’d love to experience that setting (minus the distress of being ship-wrecked, of course) in real life. Imagine my delight when I accidentally stumbled upon the Swiss Family Treehouse at Magic Kingdom in Orlando (no one had told me that it was one of the attractions!)—I wouldn’t shut up for the next two hours until my family fully appreciated the significance of my find.

Holly: Not fictional really, but Prince Edward Island has held a place in my heart since I first read about Anne Shirley.

Somewhere in the (known or unknown) universe, you’re in a high-speed chase and have to escape the bad guys. Who are you running from and what fictional character is your side-kick?

Hema: In a fantastical universe, I (in my gallant queen avatar) am being chased by enemy troops, and once I have them exactly where I wanted, I’d turn around and decimate them, mwahaha! A witty poet and court jester like Tenali Rama would be my side-kick—a light moment or two to help me and my soldiers relax would be just the ticket.

Holly: I’ve obviously thwarted some evil plan in which I must now escape, but Wonder Woman has my back so we’ll be home in time for tea.

What do you think is the most fascinating invention from fiction and what book is it from?

Hema: The Flying Carpet from THE ARABIAN NIGHTS: being able to fly with wind in your hair, not to mention lotsa legroom and no restrictions on luggage? Priceless. 🙂

Holly: Books themselves are the very best inventions! Helene Wecker’s THE GOLEM AND THE JINNI has a golem come to life (and a jinni) and I love the process.

Share with us your writing process. Do you write every day, in sprints, early in the morning, in the bath, pen and paper? What works for you?

Hema: Being only two books old, I don’t yet have a set writing process, per se. Since I write diverse historical fiction (where I drop my made-up characters into the midst of real historical figures and time-period and have them respond to the circumstances), the process I have going now is rather front-loaded. I research extensively and frenetically about the social, political and cultural aspects of the time period so that the norms of that era become as familiar to me as those of today. Then once I sit down to plot and subsequently write, I tend to get lost to the real world for the next few months as I write, write and write some more each day. I’m not big on word-count; rather I focus on finishing a scene or two per day.

Holly: I do prefer mornings, before the house is awake. I write in small chunks, but sprinting does not work for me. I’m nearly always researching or reading a book on the subject I’m writing about, or browsing Pinterest for inspiration. Sticky notes are everywhere.

You have one day to finish the last pages of your next bestselling novel. What food/drinks do you get and where do you go hide out to meet the deadline?

Hema: Ideally, I’d retire to my cozy cottage at the foothills of the Himalayas with an unobstructed view of the Manasarovar Lake. And I’d have an endless supply of chai and warm scones with clotted cream. But IRL, I find a quiet corner in one of the local libraries (or get comfy at my writing desk at home) when I’m getting ready for a stint of writing. And, boring as it may seem, a big bottle of water is my trusted friend on these sojourns, because in addition to keeping me hydrated, it forces me to take breaks and walk around, which I tend to forget to do once I’m in the zone.

Holly: I’d hide out in Ashville tea and almonds if I could. But reality would be my dinning room table as it has always been (no office here) and my stash of chocolate.

What or who keeps you motivated, inspired, or is your biggest support to keep writing?

Hema: My family. They’re my biggest cheerleaders and support system. I also have wonderful friends who encourage me to keep going, especially when the going gets bleak. Writing is a lonesome vocation, so I’m immensely grateful for the faith my friends and family place in my work—it keeps me motivated to step determinedly forward.

Holly: My husband, not because he’s the loudest cheerleader, but because he’s never doubted me. My children cannot imagine me as anything but a writer, and always tell their friends I write “books”, so that in its own dear way is a huge encouragement. I also have a merry band of writer friends who keep me level and heartened.

Please, share any last words you would like to add.

Hema: My two significant findings so far as a writer are: Perseverance is key, of course, but so is trusting your instincts and standing your ground if you believe in your story.

Holly: When it feels like you’re just spinning your tires and getting nowhere (manuscript troubles, agent hunting, awaiting submission) make sure you take the time to enjoy the view.

Thank you for reading!

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I Have News!

Those of you who have been following my blog for some time know that I’ve been working for the past few years at getting my writing published. I have now signed with the fabulous and inimitable literary agent Jaida Temperly at New Leaf Literary and Media Inc!

This is a dream come true and a huge step in the right direction for me. I’m currently sharpening my historical fiction manuscript BEYOND THE CARVED WALLS (find a few tidbits about it below) to its best shape possible before Jaida can approach editors.

I connected with Jaida, even if a tad indirectly—more details coming up shortly in my next article on this blog—through the Pitch Wars competition founded and hosted by writer-extraordinaire, Brenda Drake.

I’m seriously awed by Brenda’s and all the Pitch Wars mentors’ generosity and

commitment to helping virtual strangers succeed. The competition not only helped me hone my craft but I also made lasting connections with several wonderful fellow-writers who are as serious about publishing as I am.

Pitch Wars for me, in short, is everything that is positive about the writing scene in the US.

Pitch Wars 2017 is right around the corner, so those of you who are serious about writing and are in it for the long run, do check out the Pitch Wars website and #Picthwars hashtag on Twitter for more information.

I’ll leave you with a short interview (which was first published in Brenda Drake’s website on October 27, 2016) I did along with my fantastic mentor Holly Faur.

Pitch Wars Interview with Hema Penmetsa and her mentor, Holly Faur

Hema: Why did you choose Holly?

Holly’s wish list, her elegant yet quirky website, and her mentoring style indicated that she was easygoing and that she had a wonderful sense of humor (two crucial qualities in someone with whom, with any luck, I’d be working closely for the next two months and hopefully developing a lasting friendship).

Although none of Holly’s favorite books were the same as mine (no problem. It only meant my TBR list just grew more mouth-watering), we had a lot in common when it came to favorite writers and TV shows.

And then her “List!” This was when I got really excited. Each of her requirements read like she was talking to me about my manuscript:

• Historical – check
• Strong women – check
• Diverse characters – check
• Complicated “unlikeable” people done right (my MC turns into a loathsome woman for part of the story because of circumstances, and if I hadn’t done her right, then I hoped Holly would see the potential and set me straight) – check
• Cultures and countries around the globe – check
• Polished and professional manuscripts written by serious and professional people – check

By this time, I was close to swooning with giddiness at the “match factors.” And this is how my submission shot through the ether and lodged into Holly’s Inbox.

I am beyond excited and humbled that among all the sparkling submissions Holly has received, she placed her faith in my writing and chose BEYOND THE CARVED WALLS!

Holly: Why did you choose Hema’s manuscript?

I chose Hema’s manuscript because it would not leave me alone! Besides being everything I wanted–rich in culture and diversity, strong female lead, “foreign lands”–I literally dreamed about it when I was on fence between a few MSs. Sounds silly, but I woke up knowing I HAD to mentor it. Then after talking with Hema on the phone after picks, it just felt like kismet.

Hema: Summarize your book in three words.

Survival, Self-discovery, Redemption.

Holly: Summarize Hema’s in three words.

Betrayal. Strength. Hope.

Hema: Tell us about yourself. What makes you and your MS unique?

Although I currently live in the US, I grew up in India to bed-time tales about its rich past and alternate histories. It gives me great pleasure to acquaint my newfound home with my original homeland through my stories.

I grew up in the regions of India where Hinduism and Islam jostled each other over centuries and settled into their own grooves. This provided me with a singular perspective into the disparate traditions and practices but also similarities in the day-to-day routines of the two religions. This vantage point, twined with my love for history, gave birth to BEYOND THE CARVED WALLS, an adult historical that traces the epic journey of a Hindu girl sold into the Mughal (Islamic) harem in the famine and war-ravaged 16th century India.

Holly: Tell us about yourself. Something we may not know.

I do not own a single book case. As you can imagine, this is a very serious problem. I collect coffee mugs and tea cups. I once won a “sexiest lips” contest. Molly Weasley is my patronus.

–0–

Thank you for stopping by! Hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into my writing world, and I look forward to hearing from you.

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Change, Constancy, and Indian Food

Change.

A hankering for change is what people claim got us into the situation in which we are today in the US. BUT that’s not what I’m going to discuss now, not in this post anyway.

Instead, I want to highlight a positive concept which is on the other end of the spectrum from change: Constancy. Steadfastness. Permanence.

This is the concept that comes to one’s mind when they mull over how India has dealt with foreign cultures that have found themselves on its shores through invasion or seeking refuge. India is known for its practice of the tenet “live, and let live.” So it has assimilated the non-native cultures into its own over the millennia, thereby resulting in its maddeningly and gorgeously diverse civilization.

This absorption and amalgamation can be evidenced not only in India’s long and varied history but also in its everyday food scene today. These are the aspects I explore often in my writing both here at the blog and in my novels. And I plan to dig deeper into these in my future posts.

Until then, I’ll leave you all with pictures of Indian food.

Why? Because pictures are fun, and pictures of food are even more fun. But mostly because the most accessible route to experiencing a culture is through its food.

Chole with basmati rice

(Boorelu) Sweet lentils dipped in lentil & rice dough and deep-fried

Eggplant and mango curry with brown rice

Ingredients for mango and eggplant curry

Gosht ka saalan

Ingredients for potato curry

Dosa with chutney, sambhar, and a cup of piping hot coffee

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A 4,000-year-old Curry’s Journey from a Harappan Home to an American Kitchen (Part 2)

I’m currently on a culinary pilgrimage, and a darn fascinating one at that. Here’s Part 1 of my quest.

Without further ado, here’s the recipe to the world’s oldest curry. I extrapolated it from this video and adjusted it slightly to my own taste. That’s the best thing about Indian cuisine in all its regional variations: with a little imagination, it’s easy and fun to customize recipes to your liking.

Ingredients:

1. Small purple eggplants (the smaller the better for taste), slit: 7
2. Unripe mango, peeled and flesh chopped into small pieces: 1
3. Ginger: an inch-sized cube, peeled and grated
4. Sesame oil: 2 tbsp
5. Cumin: 1 tsp
6. Turmeric: 1 tsp
7. Sugar (used instead of sugarcane powder): 1 tbsp
8. Salt: to taste

Process:

1. Add oil to a heated pan, then add ginger, cumin and turmeric to it. Let simmer for a minute, or until the spices give out their aroma.
2. Add the eggplants and turn them over every few minutes until they’re roasted on all sides.
3. Add the chopped mango, sugar and salt. At this point, you might need to add about ¼ cup of water to help the eggplants cook. Cover the pan with a lid so the steam can do its magic.
4. Within about 10 minutes or so, your curry is ready.

The recipe is rather simple, as prototypes tend to be, but it’s unbelievably delicious. No wonder it has sustained over the millennia without major upgrades or changes—it bears the hallmarks of a basic preparation from an average Indian home of today:

• Locally grown/procured vegetables
• Vegetables in season
• Basic spices, each chosen with care for not only taste but their beneficial effects on health
• Cooked with minimal fuss with the most scrumptious and healthy results

Anything else added to this recipe (like chillies, curry leaves, sliced onions etc., which are later discoveries or imports to India) is an embellishment to bring out an appealing variation. There’s no harm in this, because where’s progress without experimentation, right?

I would’ve loved to make the curry in a copper or earthenware pot for authenticity, but because I didn’t have either handy, I chose to go with a cast iron pan (although iron wasn’t available during the Indus period).

Depending on their socio-economic status, sections of the Harappan society would’ve probably used copper cooking utensils, while those who couldn’t afford copper would’ve gone with baked earthenware pots.

I also cooked brown rice to be served with the curry as Harappans would’ve done. Okay, there are two schools of experts when it comes to domesticated rice and Indus Valley. One school believes that the people of the Indus Valley cultivated rice as a staple food grain and the other (the minority) doesn’t think so. Given this situation, I did what any self-respecting enthusiast does: aligned myself with the school that complies with my own beliefs. (I mean, how can I imagine an Indian subcontinent without rice as a staple?) The alternative carbs at a Harappan home would’ve been wheat/millet flatbread or barley porridge.

So, there you have it, my journey to the heart of an Indus home: its kitchen.

Wouldn’t you like to give this recipe a try? I’d love to hear about your experience, if you do.

For a different take on this curry and its history, read Ambika Sambasivan’s Cooking Up a 4,000-year-old Curry. While there, be sure to check out and support Yali Books’s commendable efforts at bringing to life books that highlight South Asian cultures.

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A 4,000-year-old Curry’s Journey from a Harappan Home to an American Kitchen (Part 1)

I have always loved making connections in my day-to-day life to traditions and routines I’d read about in a history book or heard as a child from my great-grandmother’s stories (as so much of history and tradition is still passed down from one generation to the next in India). I appreciate a deep sense of preservation and kinship in the knowledge that despite all the technological advances, we, as humans today, aren’t at our core that removed from our earliest ancestors. This is also why I explore predominantly historical themes in my writing.

So, when I received a link recently from Ambika Sambasivan, an advocate of South Asian cultures at Yali Books, inviting me to try out an experience, my curiosity was piqued. I clicked the BBC News link open: it was a video explaining how to cook a curry that was routinely made over 4,000 years ago in the kitchens of the Indus Valley homes. I almost swooned from excitement.

See, ever since I was a young child, the Indus Valley Civilization (or Harappan Culture as it’s also called) that flourished over 4,000 years ago in the Indian subcontinent fascinated me no end. Heck, I even wrote a full-length novel set in the Indus city of Mohenjo-Daro during the time period that the civilization was at its peak.

What is this Indus Valley Culture, you ask?

In simplified terms, the Indus Culture was a Bronze-age civilization (3300 – 1300 BCE) that spread over a vast area of what is today northeast Afghanistan to Pakistan and northwest India. The culture flourished in the fertile basin of the Sindhu River (whose name has morphed into Indus River in modern times) and other monsoon-fed rivers. The culture was highly evolved, and its people are noted for pioneering urban planning—cities that had elaborate drainage systems and one and two-story buildings made of baked-bricks!—and technology for metallurgy and sustained farming among other things.

Unfortunately, compared to how long the civilization thrived, and how successful it had been, we know very little about the culture, religion and day-to-day lives of the Indus people.

During my extensive research for the novel, I learned that the Harappans cultivated, and perhaps exported, grains such as wheat, barley and rice; fruits such as melons, dates and grapes; and produce like sesame, green peas, ginger, garlic and turmeric. However, I had no idea that they knew of aubergines (eggplants) until I watched this BBC video.

And, what’s more, the video gifts us with the recipe for the world’s oldest proto-curry (isn’t that a brilliant word?). Two scientists unearthed this recipe, by use of starch analysis, from the pot shards found at one of the Harappan excavations near the modern-day Delhi. Thank you, Science!

I can imagine a Harappan man or a woman hunched over a cooking fire, fanning the embers to adjust the heat-level, and roasting the eggplants in sesame oil to perfection. This recipe—because food transcends time and place, and nothing draws people together quite like food does—symbolizes the tenuous, yet in its own way tenacious, connection I have with my forebears from so long ago. Just the fact that I can follow the recipe to the last detail and attempt to experience even the tiniest bit of their daily routines fills me with awe and hope.

Because, to me, history and traditions are less about rigid customs and more about deepening ties and understanding.

I’m off, in search of ingredients for the world’s oldest-known curry. I’m going to post here my observations from this compelling exercise of recreating the proto-curry next week. Hope to see you all soon!

P.S: Did you know that “curry” might not even be an original Indian word, at least in the context it’s globally used? Indians don’t necessarily apply that word for their preparations unless they’re using it in a Western/larger-audience context. There are several theories as to what actually constitutes a curry and who originally coined that word. Another post for another day!

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Exotic is as Exotic Does. NOT!

Exotic is as exotic does.

I never really understood what that adage actually meant. Is it saying that people are labeled exotic because they have strange habits? Then how about those so-called exotic places? Which of their habits have led to them being tagged alluring?

How many of you, who have immigrated to America, have heard your accent or looks or even opinions called exotic at least once in your lifetime? Do I see heads nodding vigorously? And, if I’m not wrong, most of those times that comment has been meant kindly or even as a compliment.

Was it truly a compliment, though?

Merriam-Webster Dictionary describes Exotic as:

: very different, strange, or unusual

: of a plant or animal: not living or growing naturally in a particular area: from another part of the world

How does being born with almond-shaped eyes (one of the trite descriptions for Asian-looking eyes) automatically make you strange? Especially in those cases where generations of your family have lived in America, which makes you as native to this country as the next person?

How does that hint of an accent that remains in your speech, even after you have lived in the U.S. for 20+ years, because you speak more than one language make you very different?

Please let me make the distinction here that someone remarking on your accent or ethnicity is not in and of itself a bad thing—this is how we make connections, acknowledge that each of us is an individual and learn about each other. But commenting on the differences in a tone of condescension or with the intention of labeling as “other” is not recommended.

Most of the cultures that the West likes to call exotic have flourished in their parts of the world for thousands of years. They had to have lifestyles and routines that are somewhat more grounded, and in keeping with the times, than unusual to have been around for that long. (For instance, yes, it has been a decade or two since India has grudgingly given up elephants as a mode of transportation in favor of those smaller mechanical contraptions called cars. And, members of The Snake Charmers Association of India, after several rounds of negotiations, have finally agreed to openly charm their snakes only on national holidays. So, World, please feel free to move on to other clichés about India!)

Also, has anyone who’s tagging another person exotic ever stopped to consider that he/she might be exactly as strange to the other person? Probably not.

To summarize, exotic, even if meant kindly, is a label. And as with any label, it’s limiting. It stops the labeled in their tracks because they have been boxed. Because it indicates that the labeler—for lack of a better word—is refusing to look beyond the other person’s clothes, habits or preferences that are dissimilar to the labeler’s own.

If you see someone who’s a bit different from you, why not frankly share an interesting tidbit about yourself first and then invite her to share something about her? Then stand back with an open mind and let the ensuing discussion lead you in the direction it wants to head.

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Travelogue: My Re-initiation into the Elite Club of Indian Traffic

Originally posted on January 10, 2011

To the untrained eye or the uninitiated, it looks like utter chaos and spells certain, imminent death: the road is choked with vehicles and bodies of every kind. Pedestrians (and more times than not, loitering animals enjoying the tumult they’re causing) and puny bikes weave across lanes of traffic with nonchalance, where buses and trucks are barreling down.

Photo Courtesy: dreamstime.com

This was the first scene that greeted me when we stepped out of the airport in India.

It’s not like I’m exactly new to this, though it’s also true that there has been an explosion of motorized vehicles on the roads in India — especially in Hyderabad, the capital city of the state I come from – in the last decade or so.

For the first two days, conditioned as I have been for the divided lanes and orderly passage of traffic in the U.S, I constantly said my prayers and kept preparing myself for a maimed body. At best. Morbid? Yes, but you had to be there to understand.

Picture this: you’re sitting in a city cab — about the size of a Honda civic — and a fully-loaded (as in people dribbling down to the first step) passenger bus comes and brakes right next to you. You look up and realize that there is just the glass window of your cab and three inches of air that separate you and the monstrous front bumper of the fifteen-ton hunk of metal. Gulp!

Ever so slowly, though, generations of survival instincts and the Eastern stoicism kicked back in, and I began to settle in. Every time I thought I was going to be roadkill, my mantra* became: Jo hona so hoga. Phikar karne se kyaa phaayda?**

Once I decided to sit back and relax, cocooned in the hope that my cab driver knew exactly what he was doing, my eyes began to see and my mind started to absorb. It was then that I had an epiphanic moment: There actually is an age-old order beneath the apparent madness of criss-crossing vehicles!

It was like an unacknowledged food chain, only this was a vehicle-chain. The man on foot knew where to look for guidance: at the vehicle just above him in the order, which is the bicycle. The girl on the bicycle paid heed only to the auto-rickshaws zooming past her. The auto-rickshaw driver had enough regard for the cars and taxis that ruled the road for him. And the taxiwallah*** had a grudging respect for buses and trucks that could crush his box of metal if they so wished.

No wonder in all my traveling on the road during the trip, I hadn’t come across a single traffic accident. Like my friend Jai Joshi said, when you’re on the road in India, your senses are honed to razor sharpness.

You hear a certain kind of horn behind you and deduce, without even looking, what kind of a vehicle it is that is pursuing you. Depending on who you are, a bicyclewallah*** or a bus driver, your brain does certain calculations and you either make way reluctantly or make a subtle adjustment to your speed and position so you effectively block the other vehicle’s exit.

The absolute truth dawned on me only a few days before I left for America: Indian traffic is an elite club to which not everyone is allowed access. You have to have a certain state of mind and stoutness of heart to even apply for membership. Once you’re in, though, it’s a lifetime’s citizenship; one that prepares you to face anything with élan.

–*–

* Mantra – A chant or a short prayer.

* * — One of the basic philosophies of life in India (and probably in most parts of the East). It roughly translates to: Whatever is meant to happen will happen. What’s the use of worrying?

*** Taxiwallah/Bicyclewallah: Two of the many Hinglish (Hindi + English) words in common, everyday use in India. Literally, they mean: ‘The guy with the taxi/bicycle’, but in this case it’s used to refer to ‘taxi driver or the one riding the bicycle’, whichever the case may be.

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New Beginnings

Ugadi, one of India’s New Year festivals, falls on Saturday, March 21st, this year.

Here’s to novel experiences, shared moments, countless possibilities!

Originally posted on March 22, 2012

“Aren’t all beginnings new?” asks one character of another in a book I read recently.

I guess they are and they aren’t, depending on how you look at it.

What better season than spring to contemplate beginnings, old and new? Tuesday the 20^th of March marked the Spring or Vernal Equinox in the northern hemisphere of the Earth: essentially, the first day of spring season.

All around me I see signs of new life: pale green leaves unfurling, bulbs pushing shoots out of rain-soaked earth, birds shedding downy winter coats, the skies newly scrubbed and polished.

Most cultures around the world celebrate the arrival of spring in different ways. Where I come from—the southeastern part of India, where people follow a lunar calendar for observing religious days—spring means a fresh start. We usher in the season with a New Year’s festival called Ugadi (the word translates to “Beginning of a new age/era”).

Hinduism believes that a human life is full only if it experiences the gamut of emotions in the right proportions. On Ugadi, everyone—child and adult alike—begins his/her day by eating a mixture or chutney made of six ingredients:

• Jaggery, (similar to brown sugar, made from sugar cane) which is sweet, signifies happiness
• Bitter neem flower petals stand in for sorrow
• Thinly sliced hot, green peppers remind us of anger
• Savory salt takes the place of fear
• Tamarind paste (which is sour) marks revulsion or hatred
• Tangy pieces of unripe mango emphasize surprises

This chutney—a delicious explosion of bold flavors and textures—essentially is a reminder that life is a fusion of experiences. This tradition encourages everyone to accept what is doled out to him/her in life with equanimity.

Tomorrow, which is whenUgadi is celebrated this year, I intend to begin my day with a few spoonfuls of this chutney.

Do you celebrate the beginning of spring or the end of winter? If yes, please share the details with us!

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Travelogue: Hyderabad — The Story Behind the City

Originally posted on January 24, 2011.

Hyderabad. Just the name sums up many visual and gastronomical treats for me.

Golconda Fort in Hyderabad, which was the seat of power of the Qutub Shahis. This is the view of a section of the fort as viewed from the main entrance

This busy, historic, and throbbing-with-life city was the first stop during my recent trip to India. It is the capital city of Andhra Pradesh — one of the southeastern states of India — and is a thorough mix of old-with-new and traditional-with-modern.

The original city of Hyderabad, now known as the Old City, was founded 500 years ago on the banks of Musi river. The founding of this city, not to mention its name, is steeped in romance and religious tolerance.

Legend has it that crown prince Mohammed Quli Qutub Shah (of the Qutub Shahi dynasty that ruled the area at the time), who belonged to the faith of Islam, fell in love with a Hindu girl called Bhagmati. This girl lived in a village on the opposite bank of the river from the prince’s fort.

The prince used to continually brave even the flooding waters of the river to go meet with his flame. His father Ibrahim Qutub Shah, the then ruling king, who heard of his son’s infatuation decided to lend his support to the courtship. He soon had a bridge built over the river so his son could cross the river safely in any season and woo his girl.

Now, if that is not the height of tolerance and understanding, then I don’t know what is.

Eventually, Mohammed Quli married Bhagmati, and then ascended the throne at the death of his father. He went on to found a city, which he named Bhagyanagaram after his wife. (Bhagya means “fortune” and nagaram translates to “city” in Telugu, which is the language spoken by the majority of the people in my state. The name in its entirety can be seen as “The Fortunate City” or “The City of Bhagya” as in Bhagmati’s city – pretty clever pun on words, if you ask me!) Later when Bhagmati was awarded the title of Hyder Mahal by her husband, the name of the city was changed to Hyderabad to reflect her new moniker.

A view of Charminar – the historical monument that is the face of the city — from the street

The bridge, called Purana Pul (The Old Bridge), that Ibrahim Qutub Shah had commissioned over 500 years ago stands sturdy to this day. The arched bulwarks underneath the bridge, made of heavy stones, exhibit not only the fine craftsmanship of those times but also a keen eye for beauty.

Since the bridge is narrow and would not serve the present-day traffic needs, a broader bridge has been built parallel to it for everyday use. The day I visited this bridge happened to be the eve of Bakrid, one of the holy days for Muslims. The whole area was teeming with people, so unfortunately, I couldn’t get close enough to take good pictures of this beautiful, yet practical, monument for love.

On the old bridge, there now flourishes a walk-through bazaar where shopkeepers squatting under small awnings do brisk business in a variety of stuff  beginning with chappals (shoes) to fruits to pearls to clothing.

I was thoroughly heartened by this fitting use — rather than naming it a heritage monument and cordoning it off from public — for the vision of a father who had this bridge built to serve a practical purpose.

An aerial view of the monolithic statue of Lord Buddha in the middle of Lake Hussain Sagar in Hyderabad. Photo courtesy: Post card printed by the Department of Archaeology and Museums of Andhra Pradesh

Of course, as with most other legends in history that lack a recorded version, there are other theories to dispute this one about the origins of the name of the city of Hyderabad. However, I have always been fascinated by this story of love, romance, and understanding and have whole heartedly subscribed to this version of it. And I still do.

The current-day Hyderabad has outgrown the original city and has expanded northwards. As I mentioned earlier, this metropolis is a true amalgamation of new and old, modern and antique, and ethnic and technological (Hyderabad is one of the strongest hubs of the IT industry in India) now. There exists such harmony between one facet and the other that I cannot imagine Hyderabad without either.

The city is also a living and breathing monument to the coming together of two major religions in India: Hinduism and Islam (over 80% of Indians practice Hinduism, while Islam and Christianity are the next two major religions practiced in India). The two religions are so intertwined in this city that you would find it hard sometimes to tell where one begins and the other ends. The architecture of the several monuments in the city, along with local food and clothing (more details coming up in the next post :)), bear testimony to this very basic fact of this city.

Mecca Masjid, an example of history walking hand in hand with current life: People go about their everyday lives around the centuries-old mosque, which lies at the heart of the Old City

All one has to do is take a page from the history of the city — of the enormous leap of faith Ibrahim Qutub Shah took for his son, the religious tolerance he had adopted in the matter, and the empathy he had shown for the emotions of his son — to get some perspective. But, in today’s world, that looks like a really tall order.

When I mentioned the same to some of my friends – who were born and bred in the heart of Hyderabad, unlike me – they said I had too simplistic a view of the complicated matters that dictate the pulse of the city.

Maybe it is or maybe it isn’t. As with so many things in adult life, it depends on who’s asking and who’s  answering….

Night-time view of Birla Mandir, a temple for Lord Venkateswara, one of the deities of the Hindu pantheon, in Hyderabad. It’s made entirely of white marble and is famous for its serene beauty and architectural details. Photo courtesy: Post card printed by the Department of Archaeology and Museums of Andhra Pradesh

 

The majestic tomb of Mohammed Quli Qutub Shah, the founder of Hyderabad

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