No Schmoozer

The other day Evan and I went to Ramsey park while Vivian was at her drumming class. We had a great time. And I was again struck by his decisiveness and clarity. That boy knows what he likes and what he wants and isn't confounded by choices.

If he doesn't understand what anyone said to him he right away says "I didn't hear you". And he's quite precise and matter of fact in his speech too. The other night I kissed him goodnight and then went over to Vivian's bed to do the same.

"Dad - you didn't hug me" he said. So after I finished up with Vivian I went back to him and hugged him - a little longer than usual perhaps because after all he had requested a hug. After a couple of seconds of that he said "OK, dad. Thank you for the hug. Now you can go." All very politely and nicely. For all his cuddliness and people skills, he's no schmoozer.

Siblings

Here's a photo of Alu and me - a selfie soon after we returned home last month from my dad's memorial service. It takes an occasion for us to get together for a photo - even more so when we are cleaned up.

And here are Vivian and Evan on any given morning. It would be unimaginable for them to not be together. I wonder if they realize that almost surely they too will end up that way. I remember one of the earliest sorrows I felt as a child was when my uncles and aunts would occasionally visit and I got to understand that they were not that close to my parents anymore though at one time they must have been just like Alu and me.  

Guadalupe Mountains

Two hundred and seventy million years ago when all the continents were still joined, Texas (even then an independent republic) formed the western equatorial edge of this landmass. The rest of the earth was a huge ocean. Texas, most of the south western United States and parts of Mexico were covered by a shallow tropical inland sea connected to the giant ocean via a narrow opening. Within this sea there was a two hundred mile long marine reef rich with ocean life. Eventually the opening to the ocean was cut off, the inland sea dried up and the Permian period ended in the greatest mass extinctions in history. During the next two hundred million years, the dried sea bed was buried and it's reefs and bottom rich in calcium turned into sedimentary rock (and the decaying organic matter into oil and gas). Tectonic movements forty to twenty million years ago (merely yesterday in geological time) caused portions of the buried reef to rise more than two miles up into the sunshine again. Erosion washed away the soft parts and the Capitan reef that is today's Guadalupe mountains came to be.  My first view of El Capitan was through very low clouds.

Walking around the base, I eventually made it under the cliff while rest of the mountains, including Guadalupe peak remained hidden behind clouds. Two days before I reached the National Park, it had rained 15 inches in a 24-hour period. It normally rains a little over 10 inches a year here. There was almost no trace of the water left though portions of trail were washed away and most of the park was closed. There were almost no other visitors. The second day I hiked up to Guadalupe peak - the highest point in Texas.

The last photograph is of  the other side of the range. This was at sunset from my tent on the second evening. I promised Vivian and Evan that we'd soon go hiking and camping.

Food

So it was 98 degrees yesterday. But it's definitely fall. Friday was hot and humid. Saturday - one day before the official autumn equinox - was fall. Cool mornings. Deep blue skies. To quote Karen "We survived another Texas summer!" From now till June we eat outdoors (or outdoors-ish) when we can.

This may seem unrelated. But the ice-maker in our fridge hasn't been working. So last Monday Jo emptied the fridge and got her trusty screw driver and started taking the freezer apart. Armed with a butter knife, her bare fingers and a hair dryer Ms. MacGyver got to work. That story ended well and now we are now happily wallowing in ice. But the fridge was still empty when dinner time came around. So we went to Hula Hut. Here's Evan lounging in his surfer shirt. And Vivian ferociously displaying her teeth just like the tiki totem behind her.

Sometime during dinner, as we were sitting by the water, conversation turned to sailing. Vivian mentioned that she enjoyed dinners on the boat. We asked what she liked best.

"The bread"

They really did have good french bread in Tahiti and we had a lot of that and good butter and cheese and salami to go with it. I suggested that we drive over to Easy Tiger and buy some good bread.

"That won't do Dad. It has to be on a boat in the ocean"

Great. We have a certified food snob who is into fancy ambiance too. Well, at least there's Evan. He doesn't touch anything that looks novel or green. "No" is his first (and usually last) answer to any question that begins with "Evan, would you like to try some...?" Yesterday he came back from his first cooking class with a watermelon salad with basil and feta cheese and a balsamic vinaigrette. His teacher was the pastry chef at Jeffrey's - so we didn't expect the usual no-bake cookies. But Evan is going to be a hard nut for her to crack. His whole body convulsed when he tried a bit of his salad while most of the other kids' plates were already empty. So I ate the salad and I can hardly wait for his next class.

The Moustache Incident

Almost exactly a month ago when my dad was in the hospital, one afternoon his nurse Desiree and her tech walked into my dad's hospital room to wash and change him. Jo and I left and wandered  downstairs to the hospital cafe for a sugar fix. When we came back up my dad looked nice and groomed and clean. The two women were still shaving him. I saw the look on Jo's face and took a closer peek and realized that they were shaving his moustache. Half of it was gone.

Not wanting to make them feel bad and as there was nothing to be done in any case, we ignored it as best as we could and chatted with the ladies while they finished up.

About an hour later Nicolle and the kids showed up. Vivian and Evan took one look at my dad and  ignored his drawn face and closed eyes and the two iv's and the nasal tube taped to his nose and loudly asked "What happened to Grandpa's moustache?!"

Desiree turned red and quickly left the room.

Later after the kids had left and her shift was almost over she came in and said that she had run down to the charge nurse and told her that she had made a terrible mistake. When asked if she had given someone the wrong medication she said "Not, it's worse than that. I shaved off a man's moustache!"

We calmed her down and told her that it wasn't a big deal. And that my dad didn't care one way or another. And that he probably appreciated being shaved by two ladies. We all laughed for the first time since bringing my dad to the hospital. And then she asked "How long has he had that moustache?"

"All my life and a lot longer" I told her and she started turning red again.

Here's an old photo of that moustache from before my days.

Staycation

I don't like staycations. Perhaps because I prefer to view life as a vacation. Or because I hate the word itself. But I liked this one - at a resort about 30 miles from home.

Vivian and Ava (and sometimes Evan) entertained themselves. They swam and floated on the lazy river (a man-made few hundred yards of meandering gently flowing water attached to the side of the swimming pool) for hours. They found a gaggle of 13-year old girls who were there for a birthday and attached themselves to the group. They wandered over to the hot tub when they wanted to hang out. They roasted their own marshmallows and OD-ied on s'mores till they couldn't eat any more.  In the photos below the kids are sitting on Ribeye, a registered Longhorn (yes - there are such things).

Jo was ready to stay another night and book rooms for the next weekend too.

Van Horn, Texas

After I finished hiking the only two open trails in the Guadalupe Mountains National Park it was time for me to leave. I didn't want to. Partly because there was no other place to go - all the state parks and the only other national park in a 200 mile radius had been rained out or were expecting heavy weather in the next 24 hours. And partly because it was my time off. Jo said that she and the kids weren't expecting me back till Saturday. It was only Wednesday evening.

I was almost out of food and needed a shower. I decided to head to the nearest town. Eat dinner. Stay at a hotel. And decide what to do next. I waved the mountains good bye in my rear view mirror and set off down the Guadalupe pass, past the ruins of the Pinery station where the Butterfield stage coach used to stop 170 years ago on its way from St. Louis to San Francisco. Then I was down into the flats with the Baylor and Sierra Diablo mountains rising up on either side. The last major battle between the Texas Rangers and the Mescalero Apaches was fought here. The Apaches lost. They ended up in a reservation in New Mexico where they built a casino and travel center. And the winners established the thriving metropolis of Van Horn. Population 2,064 with seven registered sex offenders (thank you, google). The westernmost town in the Central time zone. Also, my nearest town. Fifty five miles later I bumped over the railway tracks - the first transcontinental railway - and drove into the parking lot of the Sands Motel in Van Horn.

I couldn't help but admire the motel's signage. It had seen better days but was still an impressive piece. Then I saw the crudely stenciled addition towards the bottom of the sign. "AMERICAN OWNED". I made a u-turn and drove up the street to Chuy's Mexican Food. Before I knew it I was seated with a cold Negra Modelo and a huge chilled heavy glass tankard in either hand. Nice. The place was busy and I was the only non-gringo - which got me worried about the food. When the food arrived my suspicions were confirmed and I had to empty half a bottle of Cholula to make it edible. But the service was great and every one else thanked the hosts for the great food so it must have been good. John Madden was apparently a frequent client and on the walls there were signed photos of the owners and Madden with the cruiser in the background. Along with a life size cut-out of the other John - Wayne. The opposite wall was fully covered by a mural. With the host's permission I took a photo of the mural when the table in front of it was empty. Ignore the air-conditioner wall unit. The image of the buildings is a stylized version of the restaurant with the Guadalupe mountains rising up behind. I'm beginning to enjoy this town.

Rain!

I drove home from Van Horn yesterday. Six hours and 450 miles - almost all of it in the rain. There's not much between Junction and Van Horn. Most exits have nothing there. I guess the highway  builders felt that they should put in exits every now and then.

This morning the rain continues in Austin. Evan is as excited as we are. He took his "mabrella" and jumped in the puddles. Then he wanted to swim in it and started to dunk the top of his head.

Dancing

Vivian hasn't been in ballet since she was about four. That didn't stop her from giving us a dance performance the other afternoon. Shorts optional.

But she does go to gymnastics class and jumps on a monkey bar faster than said simian. And that's rubbing off on Evan. 

Weekend with Devyn

Devyn spent the weekend with us. The kids loved it. Devyn liked it too though she was taken aback by the quantity of vegetables served, the frequency of dinner guests, and the amount of eating out. I tried to explain that there were anomalies - we usually eat more veggies and have fewer guests.

They're Everywhere

The other day Jo got a newsletter from her alma mater. It was signed by one Sanjay Dattagupta. Which got Jo to ponder aloud that Indians were taking over the world. People are worried about the Chinese economy. Or the fundamentalist Islamists. Or Syria. Turns out while they are preoccupied with all this (having written off India's economic future along with the Rupee), India is quietly doing her work. India's biggest export usually goes unnoticed. People.

We have two states - Nikki's and Bobby's. On NPR I hear Lakshmi Singh and Meghna Chakrabarti (Ms. Singh is of Indian heritage by way of the Caribbean) most days. The newest Ms. America is one of our agents. Nicolle complains that even is sleepy old New Braunfels there's an Indian or two in every classroom. A recent study on migration showed that the largest number of migrants in the world are from south Asia. That's an euphemism for India. Many are seeking political office or high profile careers in journalism. But it's been whispered that the really insidious ones are quietly getting married to white women (or men) and procreating stealthily. Vivian, Evan - what do you have to say to that?


ps.  Nicolle commented that she "loves her Indians". And Sharath mentioned that the new Ms. America's folks hail from Vijaywada - a few hundred miles from my home town, Hyderabad. And that her grandmother was a pioneer of Montessori education in the state. Grandma's pioneering spirit paid off.

Happy Birthday Hailey

A couple of weekends ago we went to Houston on Saturday afternoon to celebrate Hailey's birthday. Here's a photo of Vivian and Brandon at Chuck E's. Just around the corner from this ride was a indoor play scape of the type that MacDonald's pioneered several years ago. Mesh and soft steps and high interconnected plastic tubes with windows and lookouts for kids to crawl through. Vivian loves them. Evan followed Vivian into one and freaked out somewhere inside. Vivian managed to talk him almost all the way down. Then Evan just sat on an over-sized step and had a old-fashioned freak-out. It was too tiny for adults to get into, but eventually Jo got him out of it. They probably had to close it off till they figured out a way to get his drool and slobber and tears pumped out.

Evan likes his home. At home he's happy to jump off high places. But not at Chuck E's. In Houston he was fine at the hotel but wanted to know when we would "go back home". And the lad apparently likes his home just the way it is. Jo has contacted a designer to help us decorate a few rooms at home (I'd like to say "re-decorate" but "re-" implies that some thought had gone into it previously). So we needed to go down to Design Within Reach's store downtown and see a chair recommended by the designer. Evan wanted to know "why?". I said it's because we are going to get some new furniture. All the way back he groused that we didn't need new furniture and that he liked the old furniture.

Mornings

Vivian likes to sleep in. Evan can't wait for it to be morning. But sometimes they wake up together and get down to it right away. Like the other morning when I woke up and found Evan and all his worldly possessions being pulled away on a comforter by Vivian for a ride around the house.

Statues Of Liberty

A few mornings ago Vivian took her light saber and covered it with paper. Then she ran to her room and appeared a few minutes later looking like thus.

Evan - who does everything his sister does - followed in her footsteps quickly. Even if he could only muster a lollipop for his torch and even if he hadn't a clue what it was all about.

Controlled Chaos

This morning the good folks from ACC's Hands-on-science (ACCHaos) were at Magellan to encourage the kids to play with a few dozen science experiments. I was a kid corralling volunteer. Vivian is in the pink shades in the middle of the last row.

The experiments were thoughtful and thought provoking and fun. Some had a aha moment where the kids got a look behind the curtains. Vivian's class was scheduled to spend about 20 minutes and they could have easily spent twice as long without getting bored. It was good fodder for Vivian's inner geek and it gave me several ideas for our (approximately) once-a-month afternoon science experiment series.

Just when I was thinking that they were such a well behaved bright bunch of kids I subjected myself to eating lunch with them. I wish I hadn't.

Hot and Sour Soup

The day after my dad died I didn't feel much like cooking. So we headed to China Cafe for lunch. The kids love the food there. But the best thing about the place are the owners - two ladies who make us and every guest feel at home. By the time we are seated  the kids usually have their cups of wonton soup ("Evan called it "donton" for ages) in front of them. No chives, extra wontons. And plates so they can take the wontons out and eat then separately. And bowls of rice which they like to eat with the soup. And a glass of ice to put in their soups to cool them off. All that before we are even seated. 

So Jo and Alu and the kids and I sat down. I didn't say a word about my dad's very recent death during the greetings and pleasantries. And then I told Jo "We are going to have to tell them."

It was just about the only restaurant where my dad dined out at. And when he wasn't with us I always picked up a hot and sour (or wonton) soup and an entree for him. If I ever forgot, Cicile or Mary Anne reminded me. So I knew that awkward moment was coming.

Something like Cicile: "Arun - you want the usual to-go for your father?"
Me:"Uh - no - he won't be needing that any more."

Jo and Alu had a solution. Don't tell them and just take the to-go, they suggested. "For how long?" I asked. "Forever" they said.

But fortunately the decision wasn't ours to make. Cicile asked Vivian why she wasn't at school (it was a Monday) and Vivian sobbed and said "because my grandpa died" and there it was. I took this photo of the kids and Cicile after everyone had calmed down. And Cicile even came to the memorial service. 

Freakin' Hat

The other day Evan asked Vivian to make him a paper airplane. Vivian happily made one and handed it to him. Evan looked at it and put it on his head and said "Vivian - I wanted an airplane. This is a freakin' hat!". Jo and I laughed so hard it was a while before we could stop and send Evan to the corner for being rude.

This photo has nothing to do with that. This was when we took Aaron and Carol to Arro - the new French restaurant in town. Between dinner and dessert Vivian folded her napkin into a hat and put it on her head. I thought it looked a bit Napoleonic. Much later when I looked at the photo I thought of Evan's "freakin' hat comment.

Happy Hour

One recent Saturday morning the kids were playing on the trampoline. And then just like that we were at Vivo's. Limeade for the children and margaritas for us (it was no longer morning). Ava and Vivian looked dazzling in their dresses and knew it. Evan hung in there with the girls. On the way back he jabbered at top speed like he always does. He said he wasn't tired and he wasn't going to take a nap. And while he was speaking his eyes rolled back and he fell asleep.

Life Goes on

Blogging requires reflection and introspection and I didn't feel like doing much of either. Yesterday while we waited for Vivian to finish her percussion class Evan pointed to the clouds. The sky was beautiful. I took this photo by sticking my iPhone out of the car's sunroof. When I looked a bit later they were gone. Constant change. Which made me think it's time to heed the wise words of  Evan from a few days ago. "My Grandpa is dead. I'm not dead."

Amar Kumar Chatterjee

Amar Kumar Chatterjee

December 22 1923 - August 25 2013

Night follows day and makes it seem as if, at least cosmically, one day is just like the next. But during that same time the earth travels 1.6 million miles around the sun. Our sun turns 12 million miles around the center of our galaxy. And the Milky Way itself hurtles 20 million miles through space. Every day. And each of our lives are changed for ever.

Eleven day ago, laying peacefully in bed at home, my dad passed away. Fourteen days ago, some time during the night, he had a huge stroke. Three hundred and sixty five days ago he and I boarded an Etihad Airways flight in Hyderabad and arrived in Austin later that same day. About 90 years ago he was born in the small village of Rukni in the then province of Bengal of the British Indian Empire.  

I knew my dad for the last 49 years. I remember him vividly for the last 46. I called him "Bu" because my brother did - it was a word Alu had just made up. We knew that from pretty early on but we wouldn't change it because by then he was already Bu.

There are older pictures of me with Bu but I remember him from the time of this photograph. That's me on the left, Alu on the right and Raja, our brand new cocker spaniel puppy on his lap. My mother took this photo with her Rolleicord camera while we sat on the front steps of our home on top of the hill in Somajiguda probably in 1967.

I recollect my dad being big though he was only 5'6", with huge forearms. He was smart but he valued hard meticulous work over being clever. He was frugal himself but generous to a fault.  He dressed well when he stepped out but he wore the same few simple clothes at home and washed them himself by hand. My dad didn't have a sense of humor - it took a lot to get a smile and even more to get a good laugh out of him. But he loved to tell old stories, specially the funny ones. He enjoyed good food but he saved the best of everything for my brother and me. He was even tempered and never ever raised his hand at me. I've seen him angry less than half a dozen times - and only once at me when Alu and I broke a statue during a cushion fight. He had hand carried this statue from Budapest as a gift for my mother. He led by example - if he wanted you to do something, he did it himself till you started to follow. He loved to travel and and he loved to walk. He did his accounts every few days  - down to the last pisa. His accountant used to joke that he was extra careful when he did my dad's taxes because my dad would check his work for mistakes. My dad was a packrat when it came to books and papers but he owned or collected almost nothing himself - his two Rolex watches and his ring with his birth stone were his only personal valuables (and a nice collection of scotch whiskey that he hardly ever drank, but if he did it was a whiskey and soda). My dad wasn't touchy feely - he could be emotionally distant but family was the most important thing in his life. When my mother got sick with diabetes and eventually had and a stroke and lost her hearing, my dad stopped everything else and was with her every moment of every day - for years. He wasn't a religious man, but he ended every letter to me (and he wrote hundreds) and every phone call with "God bless you".

Om Shanti Om, dear Bu.