≡ Menu

Thai Poosam

 

Vadapalani Andavar, an incarnation of the Hindu God Karthikeya

My mother’s family started and has sponsored the annual celebration of the Hindu festival Thai Poosam in the temple at Vadapalani since the late 1930s. It’s a great thing which I witnessed once – the hustle and bustle of religious activity over days, walking everywhere on the temple grounds and my parents, aunts, uncles and cousins taking turns pulling the massive golden chariot on which sits an idol of the younger son of Siva. Just this morning, my mother recalled to me how she has visited that temple as long as she can remember. Her father, my grandfather or Thaatha, insisted that all of his daughters wear their newest pattu pavadai (silk frock) to temple on this day and would not look at the freshly-bathed and decorated lord until his brood of eight was accounted for. Yes, this was my grandfather who almost smacked two-year-old me on the head with his cane to keep me from cutting off the family German Shepherd’s tail with my newly-acquired skill of Hey I Know How To Use Scissors I Have The Power! Looking back on the, ahem, adventures of his children and grandchildren, I’m surprised all of our skulls are not dented and in multiple places.

Thoughts of Thai Poosam and Vadapalani mean memories of my Thaatha. He never once left South India but would dig what my “foreign” brother and I have become the most. And, you know my opinions on god, superstition and the afterlife, but I can’t help but feel that he is looking out for us now.

0 comments

Athenae points us to today’s searing death ray of political brilliance: Michelle Obama’s ‘Get Moving’ Program Linked to Pedestrian Deaths. Ignore my jaw on this keyboard and keep reading.

The Governors Highway Safety Association says pedestrian deaths increased in the first half of 2010 and the First Lady’s program to get Americans to be more active could be partly responsible.

Governors Highway Safety Administration spokesman Jonathan Adkins told 630 WMAL that Michelle Obama is “trying to get us to walk to work and exercise a little bit more. While that’s good, it also increases our exposure to risk.”

… Other factors include distracted drivers, distracted pedestrians and what Adkins calls “aggressive pedestrians.”

*slowly raises hand* Hello, if I may. Is there maybe, oh, possibly, just saying, a chance that more people lack transportation now because of the shitty economy and have to WALK TO WORK WHAT A CONCEPT combined with the fact that many built-up (read: suburban) areas increasingly don’t have a comprehensive system of sidewalks? It’s a thought.

The rapidly-constructed retirement subdivision where my parents live is a great example. Each time I visit them is a chance for my nature-loving father, the veritable John Fraking Muir of Ohio suburbia, to stand and deliver: “The developers have chopped down every single tree in these gorgeous old-growth woods [never got that – why not simply cut down what you don’t need and leave the rest?], would place these houses on top of one another if they could [yards, after all, are for pussies] and are off to destroy another round of woods, ambient water table and natural topography in the next township.” Sidewalks then cost money, which neither the developer nor the township wants to pay for. Besides, you’ve now got a lovely 1.5-car garage (into which fits comfortably a standard SUV and a garden rake) and can drive to the conveniently-near mall, grocery store, church and rec center. Why ever, dear American, would you want to walk on your own blessed soil?

I don’t blame my dad for running off to Chennai for six months out of the year. Indian cities create no pretenses like Walnut Woodlands, The Lakes at Whistling Streams or The Park of Hunter Pasture. They go straight for Gandhi Tacky Dump, St. Mary’s Putrid Badlands and Sivasankara Malaria Depression. Take it or leave it, the next buyer awaits.

Come to think of it, every new American neighborhood I’ve visited, be it in this small town, Akron, Columbus, Cleveland, Fort Collins, Orlando, Houston and suburban New Orleans, lacks sidewalks. And that’s where the two extremes of modern living – the cheap-ass apartment complex with little to no parking and the McMansion with five garages – tend to commonly occur. I’ll let you do the math. The only reason I recall the sidewalks, or lack thereof, in each one of these neighborhoods is the “aggressive pedestrian” mentioned above and his or her microscopic approximation-of-dog walked on a mile-long leash just purchased out of the SkyMall catalog that I’ve had to swerve, brakes screeching and all, to avoid hitting. It’s not that poor genetic disaster Fluffy’s fault.

Where The Sidewalk Ends (courtesy corde5 on Flickr)

Then there’s that hilarious case of where the sidewalk ends. It just stops. This is old town. Take a step forward and you’re in new town. You can now walk on yuppie grass and get shot at have nasty letters written to you by the neighborhood association. “We are a group of good Christian and God-fearing people here at The Creek of Sheffield Forest. We understand that you are a homeowner, but walking on the lawns, however close to the curb, is not allowed. We insist that you refrain from this questionable activity at once and walk only on the pavement, taking care to avoid our freshly-washed, wide-turning, all-terrain vehicles, of course. Our children are not to be influenced by such deviant behavior. This will be our first and only warning.”

But what really, truly perplexes me is this new phenomenon of people running on the streets towards your vehicle WHEN THERE IS A PERFECTLY GOOD CLEAN, UNBROKEN AND PLOWED SIDEWALK JUST THREE YARDS OVER FERCHRISSAKES LET ME PUSH YOU ONTO IT. I mean, what? Are you stupid? You’re obviously educated enough to achieve the earning power to afford that running ensemble of  UnderArmour, Ray Bans, iPod and brand-new NBs. Why risk losing all of that, your brand new 7-minute mile and those internal organs to the front headlight of a vehicle doing the legal speed limit which has no other place to go but into you? You run at 8AM on my way to work and at 5PM on my way back from work. Speaking of which, what the hell are you doing running on the streets during rush hour anyway? Do you not have jobs to go to? Oh, and get this, get this, just this morning, one of you was even running in the middle of the street towards us WITH AN ORANGE SAFETY VEST ON because a winter weather advisory has been issued for the entire Ohio valley and visibility has been severely reduced. *BLINK*BLINK*

Your dumb ass had better have voted for Obama because his wife is now taking the blame for it. Meanwhile, poor Pedro in Houston or suburban Canton and his wife have to legitimately walk on the street just to get to and from the bus stop, while avoiding people on their cellphones who have no regard for pedestrian crossings. “Health enthusiasts” risking their lives to run in the middle of the street with sidewalks present. Less-fortunate Americans who are forced to, in the absence of sidewalks and comprehensive public transportation, put themselves in harm’s way to deliver food to their family’s plates.

Good grief, what next? Simply breathing increases our exposure to risk, so could you kindly quit it? How much more barbarically partisan and deeper into the pockets of insurance companies can this country get?

3 comments

The oldest American football rivalry is set to meet again this Sunday for the NFC championship. This is only the second time these two teams have met in the playoffs since seven days after the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

D is excited. He wanted us to play the Bears and he got his wish. I simply wonder whether we want to play the Bears or a team that beat the Saints and the Bears (which Seattle didn’t, of course). It doesn’t matter. Sunday approaches. Who wants it more? Also, who do the refs want more?

You who know me well and visit here often know of my immense love for the Green Bay Packers franchise and why. It’s just that. Love. The love that envelops this team and its fans – people who own the team – and shoots from Lambeau Field to the most impossible corners of the earth. We are proud Cheeseheads of the Packer Nation, we wear, eat, drink and share goofy crap and don’t care who thinks what of it and the Bears still suck. Whatever happens, two things: 1) Whether our team is stinking it up with a 0-16 record five years in a row or in the playoffs, we never, ever leave a game early. Hell, with more than 80,000 names on the season tickets waiting list (that’s approximately a 60-year wait and I’m being generous), we demand and stick around for a fifth quarter. 2) The only beer bottle we’ll throw at you is one you have to catch and drink from.

It’s real, old love, baby.

Despite my love for football and the Packers, I don’t post much about them here given that I’m not into post-mortem analyses, prognostication and pools when it comes to sports. For me, it’s completely the athleticism and strategy of the moment. They play, score, win or lose, next game.

Another reason I don’t blog a lot about the Packers is you don’t want to know what’s in my head when it comes to this team. Imagine something louder than a Mardi Gras parade, all covered in green and gold and old-fashioneds and pasties and snowboots and antlers, that barrels down the field and plows into the stands for a Lambeau Leap. While Clay Matthews does this.

And you’re not even close. Everybody sing!

0 comments

Up Down Up Down What A Ride

For those days when I have to remind myself that merry-go-rounds make me sick while roller coasters don’t.

Now to find the scene with the little dwarves up on stage. “They’re not stolen. They’re put away!”

2 comments
1 comment