Searching for Sri Sri

I did the Art of Living Course (Part 1) about five years ago. It was an uplifting experience, especially given the time in life I took the course. I was inspired by Sri Sri Ravi Shankar's teachings, and upon learning more about him and dedicating time every day to practicing kriya yoga per his teachings I resolved to try and meet him one day.  But for those of you know of Sri Sri- he is somewhat of a celebrity figure in India, and a meeting with is not an easy feat! Almost comparable to being able to meet with the Dalai Lama.

I coincidentally ended up back in Northern CA the weekend Sri Sri was there for a course. I hadn't even signed up for the course, but decided to take my chances and make it over to San Jose to stalk Sri Sri. My long time friend from Berkeley was amused and graciously offered to be an accomplice to my mission. Once we got to San Jose, I connected with the family friend who had introduced me to A o L- she gave me a day pass and introduced me to one of the "bouncers" for the course.

Several thousand people were in attendance, and Sri Sri had several bodyguards when he entered the room. He began a meditation exercise, and I was overwhelmed with gratitude just to be in his presence, in the same room. Sri Sri asked the room about their "botherations", and took out the bucket which contained issues or questions thousands of disciples had written about. I had put in one as well, knowing that the chances were literally one out of thousands that mine would be chosen. I was speechless when he started reading out my question and proceeded to answer it in his ever so wise Sri Sri way.

 All of a sudden, fire alarms went off shortly after and we all had to evacuate.  We found that there had been a fire at the hotel, and all of us waited outside for things to settle down.  As I was waiting, a five year old girl approached me and asked me, " Do you want to meet Sri Sri?"  I replied, "Of course- who here doesn't?"  She then pointed up, and gave me directions to his room- along with his room number. I was amused at this precocious child, and didn't actually think she was giving me the correct room number but still impressed that she could sense my desperation to meet Sri Sri.

 Anyhow, as there was not much else to do at this point, I went back into the hotel after texting my friend, "Trying to stalk Sri Sri".  I went up to the room in question, and saw two other Indians waiting outside. I asked if they were waiting to meet Sri Sri, and they nodded. One mentioned that only those organizing the course were privy to his whereabouts, and asked how I had found his room. I smiled, thinking about the little girl. 

Five minutes later, we were sitting with Sri Sri, in his suite, by his feet. He spoke ever so calmly, gave us Prasad- the rest is a blur. I just remember being overcome with different emotions- and the realization that it is true- when you really want something, the Universe will conspire to make it happen. In this case, it was to meet Sri Sri.

Since then, my respect for Sri Sri has never ceased and only grown- but I have come to the realization that finding Sri Sri was a milestone to my finding the guru within myself. Perhaps, that was the ultimate journey.

A tale of three cities

NYC- the everlasting fountain of youth

NYC is the place where you can be a serial dater/ player at 45! Whether you're single in your 20's, 30's, 40's, or 50's- there is something for everyone.

LA- used to be "the city of image", now is a city of transformation.

LA is the place where there's often a pretense. X says he just bought a $5 million pad in Beverly Hills, but in reality he lives in Thousand Oaks and visits his buddy out there. He also boasts about his new beemer, which has been leased for the short term. Y talks about her new LV purse. Oh and Y has been shopping at Lulu Lemon since the company's inception. Z boasts about frequent run ins with Leo or Brad Pitt. The good thing is there is little hypocrisy here- the image conscious folks generally don't try to hide it.

However on the flip side, LA has transformed and diversified quite a bit the past decade. Yes, LA is still known to be the celebrity and entertainment hub of the country. However, LA is extremely diverse in terms of the people, the areas (venture to Silverlake, Hollywood, Pasadena, and Santa Monica and you'll find they are completely different), and the kinds of careers and industries that people pursue. From automobile, financial services, pharm, healthcare, gaming, entertainment, to even tech (aka Silicon Beach) now, there's something for everyone. You can easily get away from the entertainment craze and "aspiring actors".

SF- the city of rejuvenation and rebirth, as well as douchification

Here there is a different form of elitism. In SF, people may be patronizing because you haven't bumped into Larry recently, you don't know the who's who in the VC world, you aren't from a top 5 school, you don't know where to find the best "truffles" or other goodies, or you don't know how to appropriately roll a joint. Most in SF will claim that they are all about organic foods, recycling, and are humble, compassionate, down to earth beings who only want to make the world a better place (as long as they can make millions doing it).

Yet this is the city where a new beginning, without going back in time, is possible. The city where you feel alive- and every moment truly counts. Heck, every moment a new app or start up is being created. It's rare to not meet one person in a crowd that isn't or hasn't already created an app- or founded a start up. Every other person is "in transition." In most other places, this would be analogous to "unemployed." However in SF, this means this person is likely developing a start up or app that will "take over the world." Or at least, in their mind anyhow, "make the world a better place."

This is the city where you will find the wannabe tech hipster, especially in the Mission. Within minutes of walking down Valencia, you will see a scruffy looking guy with his shabby looking second hand red tight pants and plaid shirt. You'll overhear him talking about his appointment with his "meditation coach" or guru. Unfortunately, due to the tech boom the city has been "douchified", and only those who can afford to pay the $4K/ month for rent remain. The true hipsters/ artists/ social workers/ teachers have been pushed out- to East Bay and beyond.

Working in the Valley (in Northern CA)

I get into my car and turn on the ignition, ready for another day at work. As I flip through stations, I hear a familiar Bollywood song. It's this song from the 80's I haven't heard for a while. The station is called "pandra pachas" and is reminiscent of being back in the motherland. I pull into work, which is a global technology company based in the heart of Silicon Valley, and am greeted by one of many Indians I work with as I enter the building. I hear a lot of chatter as I make my way to my desk- mostly in Hindi, my parent's native tongue. A few hours pass by, and lunch time has officially arrived. Before entering the break room, I can smell a variety of curries and Indian spices. Upon entering, I see groups of Indians sitting at the tables, all very close to one another with tiffins. I look around and see one solitary non Indian who happens to be walking through. I am a bit overwhelmed by the "cult" feeling of it all.

I can't imagine a corporate environment in the motherland looking much more desi than this. Since I don't have the privilege of having either a kitchen or a spouse to make idily sambar or roti and sabzi for me, I venture out to one of my favorite Vietnamese places to pick up a bite to eat. On the way, I see an Indian truck "Spice hut", but the line is too long and I am too hungry to wait. When I arrive at the Vietnamese restaurant, only 80% of the customers are Indian. I can see more diversity here than most other places in the surrounding area. The server, who is Vietnamese, customizes his greeting for every ethnic group. To all the Indians in front of me waiting to order he says, "Kaise ho? Aapko kya chahiye?" To me he says, "Hola señorita- como estas?" As I once lived in Spain, I feel privileged to be able to practice my Spanish in the heart of India outside of India.

As I way back to my desk after picking up lunch, I see posts on the "community wall" about an Indian culture show and upcoming cricket match. I walk to my desk, and one of my client liaisons asks about the status of some reports. He has a tikka in the middle of his forehead (a bright red dot), that I have now gotten accustomed to seeing over the past few weeks. As the day goes by, every now and then I get a whiff of some B.O, also reminiscent of the motherland. If only they realized that deodorant is often more effective than using talcum powder! As I skim through a list of executives presenting at an All Hands next week, I see only one non Indian name. I think to myself, it's almost like reverse affirmative action.

  I have some technical issues that need to be resolved, and decide to use some down time between meetings to call Help Desk. "Help Desk" is of course a call center in India. It takes about 15 minutes and 10 different options before I am routed to a live person. I ask about the status of my VPN status. The response is "Wait another 3-5 days and then call back". No specific information relevant to my ticket is offered. I realize that I need to speak to someone who is a bit more helpful and less jaded with the job, and try again. After 20 minutes on hold, I'm speaking to a live person. I explain the situation, and clearly irritated, he responds with "So why are you calling?" Me: "Because this is the Help Desk and these are the kinds of issues you're supposed to assist with". Him: "Ok, umm there is a lot of background noise and I can't clearly hear you" (the noise is on his end in the call center. Then the dreaded dial tone.. I've been hung up on!!

  As the VPN access is essential for when I'm off site the following day (Friday), I decide to try yet again before my flight Thursday evening. This time I only have to wait 13 minutes until I get a live person on line. "I'm in luck!", I think to myself. Then, "Hello, how can I help you?" on the other line. I explain the situation- that my VPN access per the client was granted a few days ago but I haven't yet received my password, and nor has the client. He says "The internet is down where we are right now, so I can't help you. Can you call back tomorrow". I can't imagine India being any more Indian than this. I am amongst the people of my ethnicity/my parent's mother country yet feel out of place. I joke with friends that to better fit in, perhaps I too should hang a Ganesha emblem in my Toyota and wear a tikka to work every day!

Death

"It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things”. We've all experienced the passing of an acquaintance, friend, or loved one at some point during our lives. I've lost three of my grandparents and acquaintances at different points in life.

 This loss is somehow different though- my heart is broken, shattered. These tears are different- they are a reflection not only of my loss, but also my feeling that an injustice has occurred. A pure, genuine soul has been taken away from this world before his time. We grew up together; he called me his little sister and he was a brother to me. The only thing that reduces the pain I am experiencing is going to his home every night, visiting his family, and reminiscing. I am so thankful that I can work from home right now as being with others who loved and cared for him also is an immense solace. It is mind boggling that life can take such a drastic turn within days.

 Two weeks ago, I was partaking in a close friend's wedding activities and coordinating dance practices for her sangeet. From seven nights of wedding parties to seven nights of mourning, and speaking at my friend's memorial service before his cremation. Thursday night, the night of the viewing of the body for the family, was the toughest. The two hours of sitting in the viewing room with his family, and looking at him in this new form of his were some of the most difficult in my life. Just moments after entering the small viewing room and seeing his lifeless corpse, I left feeling nauseous. His mom approached me and said "Please stay in the room with us. You have to be strong. He is in a better place now." In these moments, I realized that Aunty has an incredible amount of strength, and I definitely have much to learn. I went in, and stopped fighting the tears, let it all out.

His sisters and I held on to each other, prayed for his soul, and touched his heart and then his hands- from his kara, injured knuckles, and three nail-less fingers, we knew that this was him. Else he looked 20 years older than he was (he passed at 37), and his body was swollen. His hands were so cold and felt like clay. This was my first time in such close contact with a dead body, and I hope my last for a long time. One thing both my friend and I had in common was our penchant for writing. I've never been a blogger, but figure this may help alleviate my pain and serve as a segway to a new path. So here's to the start of something.

Searching for home

Several friends have urged me to create a blog the past few years, but I've never been a Twitter/ blog person. Not that I am  not into social networking, but perhaps just the thought was overwhelming.. because where do I start? 
I've decided I can work backwards... from my lull in my nomadic life now to the beginning of my travel bug ten years ago (2003). Yes, I have a yelp account to document about 150 of the thousands of restaurants I've been to in several cities- but how does one capture the memories, the thoughts, the emotions?
How can I capture lessons learned and all of the randomness- from the most intriguing cab drives to epiphanies on a Sunday morning?