Report of 13 Feb '09
Hello from our living room -
The sunshine is streaming through, our clothes on the balcony have dried and another set of clothes is ready to go on. There is something wonderful about non-stop sunshine. Just before I left for the U.S. for the very first time (Jan 1983), my father and I were running an errand in the car, and he said, "Take a good look at the sunshine, because you will be without it for about 6 months."
I am back from the memorial service for my maternal uncle, Bollu. We (my brother, Vinu, and I) were indeed welcomed in, and traipsed merrily about a house where we had been reviled for some years. The person initiating the rituals was, ironically, my mother's sister who had also married outside the community, and had also (like my mother) been subjected to non-communication from my uncle. My cousin and Bollu's daughter, Sheila, is a wonderful sort and had been unwell for some days. It is very good to be a doctor at such times, and I tried to ensure that the young lady kept up her fluids and rested when she could and delegated when able. Sheila's sister, Anita, also married outside the community and was ostracised, with her Dad not speaking to her for 23 years - and then he died. Anita's husband started a company named Netsol, which was sold a few years ago to IBM for a large amount of money. She is none the worse for wear for this ostracism, and did not appear to be filled with regrets or any such.
Coorgis are estate people - coffee, rice, cardamom, pepper. The people are good-looking and fun-loving and Coorg is verdant and beautiful. I don't think there's very much to do other than grow the coffee, come back and drink and socialise. Thus, an active pastime is to speak of others and not very much of it is good. Listening to it got exhausting after a while, and I was glad to return. The 3 Weiss men got lots of sms's from me and a gift, thanking them for their positivity. I am also tremendously grateful for the geniality of my in-laws; yes, they are weird (aren't we all) but they try to say nice things and that is tremendously soothing to be around.
Exam fever is on, Scott is rising to the occasion and the boys are kicking in some effort. While my mother has felt sorry for the kids, I like the fact that the education system here is so rigorous.
We saw "Slumdog Millionaire." It was spot on, and while I wept through much of it, the resilience of the desperately poor came shining forth and that I enjoyed. A. R. Rahman, who did the music, is a Chennai native and a great friend of the Banyan, having composed some beautiful pieces for us. All are hopeful of an Oscar for this wonderful, humble human being. Navin got to shake his hand last year and was thrilled; Naren loves his music also.
Unw -
R
The sunshine is streaming through, our clothes on the balcony have dried and another set of clothes is ready to go on. There is something wonderful about non-stop sunshine. Just before I left for the U.S. for the very first time (Jan 1983), my father and I were running an errand in the car, and he said, "Take a good look at the sunshine, because you will be without it for about 6 months."
I am back from the memorial service for my maternal uncle, Bollu. We (my brother, Vinu, and I) were indeed welcomed in, and traipsed merrily about a house where we had been reviled for some years. The person initiating the rituals was, ironically, my mother's sister who had also married outside the community, and had also (like my mother) been subjected to non-communication from my uncle. My cousin and Bollu's daughter, Sheila, is a wonderful sort and had been unwell for some days. It is very good to be a doctor at such times, and I tried to ensure that the young lady kept up her fluids and rested when she could and delegated when able. Sheila's sister, Anita, also married outside the community and was ostracised, with her Dad not speaking to her for 23 years - and then he died. Anita's husband started a company named Netsol, which was sold a few years ago to IBM for a large amount of money. She is none the worse for wear for this ostracism, and did not appear to be filled with regrets or any such.
Coorgis are estate people - coffee, rice, cardamom, pepper. The people are good-looking and fun-loving and Coorg is verdant and beautiful. I don't think there's very much to do other than grow the coffee, come back and drink and socialise. Thus, an active pastime is to speak of others and not very much of it is good. Listening to it got exhausting after a while, and I was glad to return. The 3 Weiss men got lots of sms's from me and a gift, thanking them for their positivity. I am also tremendously grateful for the geniality of my in-laws; yes, they are weird (aren't we all) but they try to say nice things and that is tremendously soothing to be around.
Exam fever is on, Scott is rising to the occasion and the boys are kicking in some effort. While my mother has felt sorry for the kids, I like the fact that the education system here is so rigorous.
We saw "Slumdog Millionaire." It was spot on, and while I wept through much of it, the resilience of the desperately poor came shining forth and that I enjoyed. A. R. Rahman, who did the music, is a Chennai native and a great friend of the Banyan, having composed some beautiful pieces for us. All are hopeful of an Oscar for this wonderful, humble human being. Navin got to shake his hand last year and was thrilled; Naren loves his music also.
Unw -
R
posted by Renu Weiss at
12:55 AM
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