Don’t know if any of you even noticed – but I have been away – visiting the matrubhoomi for the last 3 -odd weeks. Some observations and impressions:
- Week 1 was spent visiting assorted relatives. I noticed that the decor in their houses can be divided into 2 categories Style A: Punjabi Barouque ( aka “The Tasselated ” because every freaking surface -sofa , antimacassar, lamp shades has tassels ) or Style B: Hindu Minimalist ( aka “The Venerated” because every available wall is covered with prints of various gods and goddesses). Hard to say which is more uncomfortable – in homes decorated in Style A one is scared to sit on the sofas because velvet tends to mark. In the Style B homes it is diffcult to gulp down any of the smorgasbord of food because for some peculiar reason I feel guilty about scarfing down jalebis when a hundred divine eyes seem to follow my every move.
- The capitalist boom in India means dust, dust and more dust. Every city street is being dug up in the name of “civic improvements”.
- Its almost impossible to spot the once ubiquitous Ambassador on Indian roads. There is a myriad of once “phoren” cars instead. I spotted a couple of BMWs 7 series- being driven by chauffeurs !
- Everyone I know in India carries a better cellphone than I do. They all sniggered at my poor little two year old Samsung
- The mall culture has taken over. Every evening it was ” Chalo, mall chalte hain!”. The malls have been modeled after their American cousins complete with cookie counters, coffee shops ( no Starbucks , only “Cafe Coffee Day” and suprisingl”y plenty of “The Coffee Bean ” ), Tattoo parloers (!). The crowds are all young ( at my age *everyone* seems young), fit and hiply dressed people. I wore a Salwar Kameez and stood out like a sore thumb because every other woman was dressed in pants or skirts
- The food is still as good as I remembered. I could not “eat street ” because I have the NRI fear of falling ill. When I was a school girl ( back in the Dark Ages) we would laugh out loud at the easily identifiable NRIS – they all wore sunglasses, carried bottled water,  complained about the traffic and refused to eat anything outside the home but “naariyal paani”. I have become what  I once laughed at

- You can still get served the best cocktails in the world in Goa – while you lie on your deckchair on a relatively unspoilt beach as teh catch of the day slowly gets cooked for you. I love Goa – a little slice of heaven on earth !!!

- After close to a decade in the USA , its tough to say that going to India is like going home  – but its pretty close!

Oh and Happy New year to all of you !

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