The Sweet Spot

“It is a love-cum-arranged marriage”, Renu had informed her small, close-knit community in the outskirts of Rajkot, Gujarat. Her nephew was marrying a Punjabi girl, in an inter-cultural marriage, in the US. For those unaware of this Indian parlance, it is called a “love marriage” when the couple meet, get to know each other, fall in love and then decide to marry – before the family is involved. It is “arranged” when the family is the matchmaker and gets the couple together with an intention of getting them married. In India the latter is still a common practice. In the eyes of conservative folks in India, a marriage is a union between two families, and ensuring the couple has the blessings from both families, which culminates in a traditional wedding, is very important. So “love-cum-arranged” softens the jagged edges of the love (read as “youthful foolishness” through the orthodox tinted glasses) with the cloak of family acceptance and blessing! A few years ago, their community in Guj

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

This year would be the second Holi washed out by covid. The vaccine is out and many of us are starting to get it, which is building some level of confidence towards a path to normalcy. It is still not enough for people to engage in the regular color play, which is the essence of Holi. Given the restrictions, I decided to indulge in colors in a different way, by revisiting the colorful and vibrant Indian arts. A few years ago I had the opportunity to attend a unique exhibition of Madhubani or Mithila Art right here in Acton. I knew about this dedicated Madhubani Teacher-Disciple duo, Sunanda Sahay and her student, Anindita Lal, who had worked together for a Massachusetts Cultural Council program, and showcased her work at the Acton Discovery Museum, among other places. The exhibition, which presented the very traditional Mithila Ram-Sita wedding painting, to the intricate and brightly colored designs with birds and foliage, also showcased an unconventional piece of Aladdin on the magic

As a child I found comfort in cuddling a soft, warm, dry and fluffy white mass. No, it wasn’t a puppy! It was my grandmother’s nine yard saree (“nauvari”; nau- nine, var - yard; in Marathi) stitched like a quilt. It was extremely soft, being well-worn cotton and washed hundreds of times, folded four times and stitched into a comfortable quilt of a little over 6 feet in length, hence named “chaughadi” (chau - four, ghadi - fold; in Marathi). In the Indian winters it would trap the body heat and provide just enough warmth, and in summers, the airy, light material was the perfect cover under a ceiling fan. Beyond the practical perfectness, it was my inseparable security blanket. So when I first heard the phrase “the whole nine yards” in the US, however bizarre it may sound now, I assumed it was borrowed from the length of the traditional Indian saree. To me the phrase made complete sense - to go the full length or detail into something, as compared to the more modern, and shorter, abridge

“...Family is my uncles, my aunts, and my chithis”, as Senator Kamala Harris said in the acceptance speech for her Vice Presidential nomination. Whatever is this “Chithi”? The word, which in Tamil means younger aunt, became viral and reminded me of my own cultural reckoning when my children were younger. “Is it ok if I call Tom’s Mom Pam Aunty?”, my younger one asked about her best friend. Before I could reply, my older one interjected, a little irritated. “Well, you can’t. She isn’t Indian. And by the way Mom, I am not going to call Ruchi Aunty that anymore. It was weird when my teacher asked me if she was your sister or Dad’s, and I said neither.”  I call this the cross-cultural dilemma. It is one of many woes that children of Indian origin face while being raised in the US, when they are required to apply a cultural trait in a culturally-unaware setting. In the Indian culture, “Aunty” is anyone who feels like an Aunt. She doesn’t have to be family. She can be a family friend, Mom’s

The arena was bustling with energy; echoing with youthful chatter and laughter over the lively garba music and the rhythmic beats of dandia. College students of all ethnicities were dressed in finest kurtas, lehengas, ghagras and chaniya-cholis, dupattas and shawls in exotic designs. The colors and patterns were so brilliant that it felt like they had borrowed the vibrant autumn hues of reds, yellows, oranges and the remaining bit of green from the New England Fall outdoors and added to their already spectacular palette! Beautiful young students dancing and twirling and maneuvering the two large concentric circles, their prettified dandiya sticks matching the beats as they moved gracefully around a majestic image of Goddess Durga slaying the demon Mahishasura. The scene reminded me of my teenage years - different country, different generation, different population - yet the same nine magical nights of Navratri! The chilly, yet festive evening was a reminder that colder weather and shor

Proud Indian Americans looked on with their heads held high as they witnessed the Indian Flag being raised at the Acton town hall, accompanied by Jana-Gana-Mana, the Indian National Anthem. The Indian Flag will fly for twenty four hours at the Acton Town Center to commemorate India’s 74th Independence Day, on August 15th 2020. This is happening for the first time in the history of Acton, thanks to the leadership of the Acton Board of Selectmen (BOS) and Sahana Purohit, a Finance Committee member, who stepped  up promptly in response to IAGB (India Association of Greater Boston http://www.iagb.org ) initiative to hoist the Indian flag in 35 New England cities including Nashua, Connecticut and Maine towns. In Acton, the occasion was graced by prominent town representatives such as Massachusetts State Senator Jamie Eldridge, Massachusetts Representatives Tami Gouveia and Dan Sena,  Acton Board of Selectmen (BOS) Chair Jon Benson and Vice Chair Dean Charter, Selectman David Martin, Vice