The Sweet Spot

In the early part of 2021, my friend Sunanda Sahay shared about a project she was spearheading as a part of and initiated by the Acton Historical Society (AHS) and the current co-president Doug Herrick. Over the past couple of decades, especially in the last decade, Acton has been getting a big influx of an Asian population, and the AHS wanted to record this journey through immigrant stories and experiences. The project focused on the two largest demographics, the Chinese American and the Indian American Actonians. The AHS hosted a session in May 2021 representing the Chinese American community that was led by Dawn Wang. A similar session, led by Sunanda, is planned to represent the Indian American on Sunday, Oct 3rd at 4 pm EST. When Sunanda explained the project to me in Jan 2021, I did a quick search to learn about the journeys of Indian American Actonians. About when and why they moved to Acton and what their experience was as a part of raising a family in Acton. I found next to n

Last summer during the covid lockdown, while on one of my bollywood movie binges, I came across the movie Vivah. It seemed like a harmless, stress free, Suraj Badjatya goodie-goodie movie - even edging a bit towards calmly boring - and a perfect one to drown out covid anxiety. I hadn’t the faintest clue that within minutes the movie would turn irksome as the actor Seema Biswas playing “Chachi” coats her sweet little daughter’s face with layers of powder to make her look as fair as her cousin. Throughout its first part, the movie portrays Chachi’s jealousy and insecurity due to her daughter’s dark skin and how she is unable to see the bubbly and kind girl’s true beauty. To begin with I felt the movie was at best cringe-worthy, but it was interesting that the one scene left such a lasting impression in my mind that I am willing to give the movie some credit for subtly touching on Colourism. Anyone who has grown up in South Asia knows how deep Colourism runs in the region. Colourism is d

The school year 2016-17 in our town started with a dark fall season ending in a darker winter. The school community was mourning, grieving and learning to cope with the deaths of two current students and two past students who took their own lives. Then on a cold, dark winter evening in January when I entered my daughter’s room, she was in shock and unconsolable. “It’s a fifth grader....he is so young...only ten!” That evening is etched in my mind. If it took so much for our family to come to terms with this incident, I wondered what the boy’s family would have gone through. It has been more than four years since this incident, when quite coincidentally I noticed a page set up by a mother in the memory of her radiant boy. I was drawn to this duo and as I looked deeper caught sight of innumerable posts - some touching, some heartbreaking, but mostly inspiring, and tremendously positive in the face of an unthinkable tragedy. My throat tightened as I read “Sometimes it feels like he is jus

In our first year after immigrating to the United States, some of the most difficult times when we missed our family back home were during Indian festivals. Diwali, the festival of lights, is one of the most important one. In India, we made goodies, lit many diyas (oil lamps) and firecrackers and ended with a prayer to the Goddess Lakshmi (the Goddess of wealth). The year we moved to the US, we hadn’t yet got enough bearings in the country to put together the same kind of celebration. To make it a little festive, my husband had changed his computer background image to a Diwali motif. To his great surprise, his manager pulled him aside and requested him to remove the background. My husband was quite stunned at the beginning, knowing how the US practices free speech and freedom of expression. After all, he was simply practicing his religious choice! His manager explained that the motif has a Swastika, which is anti-semitic, has racist connotations and hurtful to other employees in the co

“What’s up with the orange ribbon on your mailbox post?” I was glad for the question, as that was precisely the purpose of the tied up piece of ribbon.  The Orange Ribbon Campaign , a student led initiative started by the Luce family of Boxborough, amplified by AB Together Against Hate and AB United Way (ABUW), is a show of support and solidarity towards Black, Indigenous and People of Color communities. Recently two Black members of our town school committee experienced blatant racial attacks with use of slurs - on two separate occasions - during meetings held over zoom. There has been a widespread support for the orange ribbon initiative. “We realize that a ribbon campaign will not change hearts and minds or discriminatory practices, but we hope to amplify the many voices and groups that need to be heard” states the campaign. When a member of our community, Ananya Rao , reached out for 20 volunteers, the spots were full within no time. I was motivated by the fact that the ribbon wo

It was Mother’s Day, 2020. The one mile loop in our small community carried an unusual sight - a parade of cars - which had nothing to do with Mothers Day.  Right in the middle of the pandemic in May, the long line of cars, bumper to bumper, each carrying banners thanking doctors, healthcare professionals and scientists for their incredible contribution during the deadly pandemic which had been creating havoc worldwide as well as in all our lives. Some cars were decorated with balloons, confetti and ribbons, with kids peeking out of the open sunroofs, waving and honking as they passed each doctor’s home. In the unprecedented times, when covid was etching its place in history, storming in unannounced, and leaving behind death, destruction and devastation in its wake, this was our show of solidarity as a community, our safe way to express gratitude. While the news media was filled with stories about losses of life to the illness and morbid statistics, we were cooped up in our homes prayi

Long commutes to work were never my favorite. When left with no choice, I preferred driving through the quiet, picturesque New England inroads than the stressful commute of high speed, congested highways to get to work. During election season I noticed these inroads were lined with lawn signs supporting this candidate or that other one. Some candidates, those running at the national level, or a few at the state level, looked familiar. But there were other names on the signs that were always unfamiliar, invariably supporting a Town Selectman. Having been raised in India, I was aware of municipalities, but the title of ‘Selectman’ looked new and always caught my attention and curiosity. Though eager to learn about local government, at that time I was too caught up with a busy tech job and family, that there was never enough time to learn. Incidentally, after moving to a town where the residents are the town government legislative branch and where budgets/ policies are passed within a To

I recently read a post by a doctor which said the best help from all us non-essential workers would be to stay home and follow precautions as best as we can, and try our best to stay healthy for as long as we can. Our goal is to not overwhelm the healthcare infrastructure, and inundate the frontline heroes, who are already working on a war-footing. The idea is to flatten the curve, by self-isolation, quarantine and social distancing. We all have read or heard this message hundreds, if not thousands, of time in the past several weeks. I am writing about it again.  I am a proud Indori (for those who don’t know, Indori refers to a person of Indore origin; Indore is a city in central India). When I see the work done progressively by Indorians to retain the title of “The Cleanest City in India”, not once, but four years in a row, it makes me proud! Today it was disappointing to see Indore in the news again - a footage of some miscreants, or maybe some misled people, pelting stone

Keeping our hands where they belong Our hands - a marvel of natural engineering! The human hand can grip, grasp, hold or get finer with our motor skills to pick up things and use tools with precision. We touch, feel and express ourselves with our hands. Sometimes in the quietness of words, our hands can speak more than we do. We cannot start to imagine what we would do without them and empathize with people who are unfortunate to lose them or marvel at those who find ways to live productively despite losing them. While we can do so much with our hands, the one thing we are reminded of time and again is to keep our hands where they belong! Curious little babies and kids! As they learn new ways to use their hands, they find the diceiest places to poke and prod. It is like they are a magnet to anything dangerous. Sharp objects, electrical outlets, and anywhere they can stick their hands and fingers into are very special, including but not limited to their little noses and ears