Valentine's weekend in Bombay

{Sara, Corinne, and me at Juhu Beach}

It might be because I was born there (back before it even became Mumbai!), but of the many places I've visited in India, Bombay is without a doubt my favorite. The food and shopping are unparalleled, a ton of my family is there, and when the heat or traffic aren't overwhelming you, the city is perfect. Needless to say, Bombay is home for me in a very unique way, and various parts of the city hold incredible sentimental value to me. There's my first home, my Nani's (maternal grandmother) place where I've spent so many summers, the beach I used to visit as a kid, and so much more. I've wanted to go back with some friends from GW for a while now but coordinating vacation schedules and financing expensive flights from the U.S. isn't exactly easy to accomplish on a college student's budget and lifestyle. So when I found friends from my CIEE Abroad Program who were interested in visiting Bombay, I jumped at the chance to show them around.

Although I was in Bombay for a few days before my study abroad orientation in Hyderabad, I knew I wanted to go back. All four of my grandparents are currently there and seeing them is reason enough for a weekend trip to the city. But when I thought about how fun it would be to show some friends around the city I call home, I got even more excited. So this past weekend, my friends Corinne and Sara and I flew down to Bombay for a trip I think of as my most productive visit to any city, ever. My friends and I certainly ate our way through the city, and the suitcase that was half empty on my flight there and full on my return to Hyderabad is a testament to the six kurtis, two tops, and two dresses I managed to buy. Beyond that, my three major goals for the weekend were to show my friends my city, spend time with my family, and visit places that held sentimental value for me. By some miracle we managed to accomplish all of that and then some in only two and a half days.

{one of the many dishes we had for dinner}

After we reached Bombay Friday afternoon, my friends and I headed to my Nani's house with the help of my Mama (maternal uncle). We had an amazing lunch, after which Sara headed down to Kala Ghoda and Corrine and I played cards with my cousin and Mami (maternal aunt) before heading out for some shopping with my Nani. After picking up some kurtis and fun pants from the street stalls, we headed back home to see my Ba (paternal grandmother). The four of us then visited two temples that I had gone to as a child before going to another uncle's house to see my Dada (paternal grandfather), who had recently broken his leg. We then met up with yet another uncle—and I low-key blessed his motorcycle and got some amazing ice cream, nbd—before heading to dinner. The travel hadn't been great on my stomach and I was feeling a little off, but some relentless goading by my Mami assured that I had a very filling dinner. We shared plates of pizza, dahi puri, kati roll, and the coolest pav bhaji I've tasted (the bhaji had cheese and the pav was fried with some sort of masala!) and somehow I still managed to say yes to dessert. I looked at Corinne and offered the justification of, "If not now then when?" and am definitely glad I did because the malai gola we shared was insane and definitely better than anything I've found in Hyderabad. I swear, Bombay food is just incomparable. 

The next morning, Nani, Corinne, and I attempted to fit in some more shopping, but found the stores to be closed and settled for some fresh coconut water instead. My cousin came home from a class he had, and my Nani, Mami, cousin, Corinne, and I headed to the Sanjay Gandhi National Park. I've always seen the park from the windows at my Nani's place, but have either never been there or had gone when I was really young so I was looking forward to the visit. After a short rickshaw ride, we walked through, ate some fruit, and went on a short safari ride to see some tigers. We also saw some monkeys and deer on our visit! Nani, Corinne, and I then headed to see my mom's old house, the home she had lived from birth till marriage. 

For obvious reasons, visiting India and especially Bombay always reminds me of where I come from. More than being about my ethnic or national origin, Bombay makes me think of my early childhood, my parents' youth, the life I could have led and almost did. It makes me appreciate my parents on a very conscious level, which I don't do often enough. It makes me think about the family I wish I was closer to, the family I'm grateful to be close to, the family I only see every few years, the family that makes coming to India feel like home time and time again.

I'm so lucky to still have all four grandparents with me, and every time I hop on a plane or bus or car and say goodbye, I worry about whether that goodbye is as final as I fear it to be. Maybe this is a bit heavy to be sharing on such a public platform, but I think it's important to value what you have and to be appreciative of and grateful for every moment you have with the ones you love, in the places you love. So it that sense, going to Bombay has always felt like coming home to my family, and leaving has always been doubly difficult.

And Bombay means even more to me. For as long as I can remember, I've been working on a balance between Indian and American. It wasn't until recently that I was able to conceptualize it as a spectrum rather than a binary distinction or a hyphenated identity. Because I'm not hyphenated. I'm me. I'm both, I'm whole. I feel so connected to India and Bombay in a way that I don't think I'll ever feel with my small town in New Jersey, in a way I don't think I even want to feel with New Jersey. And as much as I love, love D.C., I know I won't be there after graduation. It's not where my field is, and so it'll forever be the place I spent my college years, the place I grew into myself a little bit more and learned to live and love and accept in ways I didn't think possible. But Bombay. Bombay will always be home. Do you know how weird it is to leave a place for six and a half years and return and have some things change completely and others stay the same and feel wholly and completely happy to have what you have and be who you are and stand where you stand?

One of the biggest benefits of learning new languages is finding ways of expressing those teeny tiny intricacies of the human experience that you didn't know how to convey. If you're a native Spanish speaker, the phrase, "me emociona," might not mean much to you. It might be something you grew up hearing and repeating. But for someone who feels so strongly about so many things, for a writer who is frustrated with the inability to describe wholly and fully and truly every feeling and thought and experience, the phrase, "me emociona," works wonders. Because that's what Bombay does to me. That's what Madrid does to me. That's what being around people I love and being in places I love and feeling truly myself does to me. 

So when I visited my mom's old house, and when I thought about where both of my parents have come from and where they are now in a way that relates to but goes beyond the standard immigrant family, American Dream story, I was emotioned. I saw my mom's old neighbors, faces I didn't recognize at all, faces of people who expressed such warmth and a sense of community and a desire to express such genuine kindness for a person they didn't know at all, I was emotioned. When I thought about what I have to leave behind each time I leave India and the time that passes between each trip and what moving back here would be like and how both India and America are home but in a way neither of them are, I was emotioned. 

The Coldplay-Beyoncé video that recently came out frustrates me for such a wide host of reasons, but one of the major ones is the lack of representation that South Asians and particularly Indian-Americans face. I'm currently working on a post regarding that, but for now I'm just going to say that the Indian-American experience is one that is so complicated, has so many layers and valences that reflect a lot about India and America and the way we as the people of either or both countries believe and think and behave. It's one that holds so much value as an academic discourse, as a literary and artistic diaspora, as a reflection of the government and politics of both countries. Seeing such a reductive representation of India through the Western lens—and seeing the lack of regard for the misrepresentation that some people excuse because it's a music video or because it's Coldplay or because it's Beyoncé, and so on is just so disheartening and so painful in ways that I myself am still struggling to come to terms with. India is so beautiful, but dancing street children and Holi and a painful-to-see appropriation of our many dance forms are not the reasons why.

And that is what I thought about on the rickshaw ride from my maternal grandparents' old home to their current one.

After a quick rest at Nani's place, Corinne and I headed to my cousin Jhanavi's apartment with two other cousins. From there, we met up with Sara and spent some time at Juhu Beach, a place that holds a lot of sentimental value for me for a host of different reasons, before heading out to dinner. At dinner, the topic of the Coldplay music video came up again and I was amazed at how much Jhanavi related to my frustration. As an Indian-Omani who is going to college in Bombay, Jhanavi knows exactly what it is to be of two worlds, to be an "in-betweener," as she calls it. 

I find that my local friends and family here don't share my frustration with the way Indians and India are represented in this video, and maybe that's because many of them have no way of knowing what being an Indian-American in 2016 means, of truly knowing how the lack or representation and misrepresentation feel when you spend the majority of your life in a Western setting. I haven't explored the topic enough with my family in the U.S. to know their stance, but even among many (although certainly, certainly not all) of my Indian-American friends, I often feel like I'm the only one who cares or at least the only one who cares this much. It's pretty isolating, and many of the friends I've made through this abroad program have provided the support and comfort through the fact that they share my frustrations, that they know where I'm coming from. Put very simply, they get it and when I saw that my cousin got it too, I was ecstatic and even relieved. I'm not alone. Someone else cares, too. And even if we're the only one's having this conversation, it's okay. Twenty years ago, this conversation might not have even happened. Maybe twenty years from now, it might not need to.

We spent our last day in Bombay in the best way possible: shopping and eating. After my cousin and I visited a great-aunt of ours, we met up with our friends for some shopping and lunch in Lokhandwala. My last trip to India was the summer before my freshman year of high school (yikes!) and my cousin Riya and I pretty much spent our entire summer shopping and dancing (we took a pretty wild Salsa/Bollywood/Bhangra/Raas-Garba dance class that summer). We visited Lokhandwala a ton that summer, and the first place we stopped at this time around was a stall that I've seen pretty much every time I can remember being in Bombay. I got a little obnoxiously excited, especially for a stall that only sells cheap trinkets. But before I came to India, I'd been hearing people talk about how much India has changed in the recent years and it's so comforting to see how so much is still the same.

After walking around a bit, we stopped by lunch and got classic Bombay food. My personal favorite was the Bisleri pani puri, 20% because it was the first Bombay pani puri I'd had in years and 80% because I knew it wouldn't make me sick. I also had bites of my friends' pav bhaji and dahi puri before ordering a pretty good royal falooda. I've been in India for a month and a half and really don't anticipate getting sick of having Indian food every day. If anything, I'm worried about how I'm going to be in D.C. without my thrice-a-day cups of chai and such. Guess I'll finally have to learn how to cook Indian food.

{mediocre-at-best iPhone shot of our view from the plane}

Our flight back was bittersweet. It was late enough that all the city lights had turned on, and as our plane rose we were above a thin layer of black clouds with the city and black Indian Ocean below us. Above, we could see a few stars and it seemed like a perfect, albeit reluctant, end to an even better weekend. It was one of those things where photos don't capture the beauty, so you'll just have to take my word for the fact that it was breathtaking. 

I want to travel to so many places throughout and close to India while I'm studying abroad here and I initially wasn't sure that I'd get time to go to Bombay again before heading to Oman and then going back to the Dirty Jerz. But after this weekend, I'm determined to make time. This city is just so amazing and although I'll never let six and a half years pass in between my trips there, I know I have to visit it one last time before the next.

Here are a few more photos of our trip, as well as a video I made of one-second clips from our weekend. Enjoy!

{food on food on food}

{pre-Bombay selfie}

{lunch at Nani's}

{Mami makes the best chai}

{walking around Borivali}

{Corinne and her new Vespa}

{living in a constant state of only remembering to take photos after having a bite}

{nariyal pani}

{malai gola feat. photobomber}

{fennel seeds!}

{spot the tiger}

{dahi chaat for lunch}

{Nani's building}

{falooda for dessert}

{me and my valentines}

{rickshaw selfie}

{Corinne meets the fam}

{ice cream at Naturals}

{#candid}

{natural park feat. a sign I can actually read now}

{malai gola}

{flowers + trees+ pretty walls}

{juhu}

{Nani and fruit}

10 Things I'm Grateful For

{Buddha statue from our a Tibetan monastery I visited this weekend}

Before this week, my friends and I had found ourselves in a bit of a funk. With classes cancelled, we were slipping into a routine of doing very little and feeling bored and unproductive. This past week has been a near complete shift, and I've found myself being not only more productive but also just generally happier and in a better mood. I'm big on appreciating what you've got and believe happiness comes from gratitude, from making a point to consciously appreciate and be thankful for both the big and little things in life. So here are a few things I'm grateful for this week and from my time so far:

1. New friends: This weekend, my program took us to Mysore and we had an amazing time (travel post to come soon!). Our trip was incredibly well-organzied and hassle-free, and as much as I loved sightseeing and exploring different aspects of a new place—the food, the sights, the language, the geography—I really just enjoyed spending time with my friends. In our group of sixteen, I genuinely like everyone and hadn't been able to spend real time with each student since our orientation at the beginning of our time in Hyderabad. I loved that we were all able to spend time together during our trip, and I was able to have some great conversations with friends that reminded me that beyond the food and the sights and souvenirs, traveling really is all about the people you meet.

2. And old friends: I've been able to keep in touch with several friends back home and even heard from a friend from high school who I hadn't spoken to in months. It's natural to lose touch with time and distance, but it's nice to remember that even if you don't talk for months on end it you can reconnect without the lapsed time becoming an issue. This is especially comforting when I miss birthdays and big campus events and FOMO hits me hard.

3. Family: At the same time, I'm so happy to be living with my aunt and uncle. Full disclosure, I expected at least some awkwardness beforehand. Isn't that normal when you're living with people you haven't seen in nearly seven years? But my uncle appreciates food as much as I do and has endless recommendations for places to go in the city. And when my friends and I went out to a karaoke bar recently, he came along too, which I really appreciated. Sometimes an age gap can make things awkward, but my uncle treats us like people rather than kids, and makes an effort not only to get to know me but also my friends. My aunt and I have the best conversations about anything and everything, and I finally have a workout buddy. I'm generally an open book, but it sometimes takes a while for me to fully open up to people and I'm amazed at how much I've been able to share with her so far. Living with my family has been amazing, and it's an opportunity I'm so grateful for.

4. Dance: I've mentioned before that my Kathak classes have started, and as humorously bad I am trying to get my feet to move as fast as they need to during class, I like going home and being able to practice the moves to music that I enjoy. At the same time, during our Mysore trip, we were able to dance to and with a folk group performing Dollu Kunitha, and I even got a chance to try out one of their drums. I missed dancing and it wasn't until I got back into it that I realized just how much that was.

5. Playing: On our four-hour bus ride to the airport, we spent about three hours playing a game called Psychiatrist. The day before, we'd also spent hours playing various other games and I found myself thinking about how long it had been since I'd played like a little kid. As an au pair last summer, I played UNO with my kids nearly every morning. But playing with friends your own age and playing because you don't want to stop, rather than because you want to keep your kids happy and entertained, is quite different. I found myself laughing whole-heartedly and getting frustrated at games I didn't understand. Experiencing such a wide range of emotions when the stakes were so low, and that too as the result of playing childish games, was so foreign to me and made me realize how I want to make more time actively and consciously having fun doing things that might be deemed as silly. Of course, this is easier said than done when you're in the middle of a busy semester, but maybe if I try to be conscious about it, I can implement this sort of behavior in my life in DC and over the summer at home with my brother.

6. Literature: My low-key role model Ella Cerón recently Instagrammed a pile of books with the caption, "Every writer has their bibles, the books and stories that made them pause in the middle of the page and say, 'I want to do that.' These are mine." Naturally, I began thinking about the books and poems and essays that made me feel the same. Among an incredible range of texts, Vonnegut tops my list. His books remind me that I write to make people feel something. I want my writers to feel understood, and so I try to write truthfully. I want my writers to feel overwhelming emotion; I often cry when I write pieces that really mean something to me and hope that I can pass along the sense of relief and catharsis I get from both reading and writing along in the pieces I create. Above all, I want my readers to feel reminded that they are not alone; their experiences and thoughts and feelings have value, are valid, and deserve to be heard. 

This weekend I started reading The Namesake, a book I had long put off for a wide host of reasons. I'm not far along at all, and here's why: over and over, I found myself overwhelmed. First, by the sheer prose. Lahiri's prose is clean and effective without compromising aesthetic appeal. She doesn't use a lot of dialogue, something that characterizes my own fiction writing, and that reminded me that lack of dialogue isn't necessarily something to be corrected. But beyond that, her story is so relatable. I myself have experienced nearly nothing that the characters have in the first 39 pages of the text. But there is no doubt that I see myself and my parents in Lahiri's descriptions of Ashoke and Ashima. I had to stop myself from continuing the book several times, one because I was emotionally overwhelmed, two because I didn't have my laptop with me and writing in my notebook on a bumpy bus ride is basically impossible. I was so inspired by her work and in her writing style, I found solutions for fiction pieces I'd been working on. There's nothing like the first read of a text you love, a text that impacts you heavily both in the time you read it and beyond, and so I decided to save the rest for a time in which I could leisurely and privately write my own work.

7. Travel: Needless to say, I love travel. Although I haven't quite overcome my mild aversion to traveling often after last summer's trip to Italy, this weekend's trip to Mysore really made me happy. It might've been the rut I'd been stuck in after two weeks of cancelled classes, but having something to do and constantly being around my friends was a lot more fun than my routine of sleeping in until noon and visiting the same spots in my side of the city. I also have a trip to Bangalore this weekend and the weekend after a trip to Mumbai with two of my friends, and I am excited out of my mind to show them parts of my home city, introduce them to my grandparents, and just be back in what I consider part of my complicated definition of home.

8. Working out: My relationship with my body hasn't always been great, but I'm at a place where I'm loving what it can do and have started to see some results. I've started running again and have some goals to work on in terms of kilometers I run per month and the time it takes for me to finish 5k. I've also started going to the gym a bit more regularly than my annual visit back in DC, and bi-weekly Kathak classes and yoga four times a week don't hurt either. Endorphins keep me sane. After all, exercise gives you endorphins, endorphins make you happy, and happy people don't shoot their husbands—they just don't! I also don't have a weight scale here, and I kind of prefer it; I'm not working out to lose weight. In fact, I'm happy with my weight and it's taken a lot for me to be able to say that. I'm working out to stay healthy and for the endorphins. And I'm not one to complain about abs and biceps either.

9. Writing: It's hard for me to post regularly on OMS when I'm back at school. I could tell you that I don't have the time, but that simply isn't true. As I'm writing this, it's 12:30 AM, I have readings that need to get done, a 9:00 AM class tomorrow, and a few other pieces to write for other writing commitments I have. I write on here because I love it and because I need it; time doesn't matter because when something is this important to you, you make time. I think the real reason I don't post as often when I'm back at GW is that I'm not as inspired. My life revolves around my classes and internships and fitting in time with my friends whenever I can. I make time for myself, too, but that takes the form of cooking great meals or going on a run by myself or reading a book. My mind is generally focused on school in DC, but when I was in Spain and now that I'm in India, I have the ability to think about other things. I have more mental space and energy to focus on things that matter to me that aren't about Austen or my writing workshops or Disability Studies. I loved my classes this past semester at GW, but having the means to make writing here possible is almost better. I write because I'm able to be inspired and able to learn nearly constantly. 

And writing here is so rewarding. For one, I love being able to put my thoughts into words. It's very cathartic and it's nice thinking that you're being constructive and creative with the experiences you've had. At the same time, the messages I get from friends and family letting me know that they've read and liked my posts and the times people stop me in person to let me know that they're reading and have thoughts on what they've read just mean so, so much to me. Writing for me is beautiful and I strive to create something that holds value in my own eyes. Learning that other people care too just makes it that much better.

10. Food: I'm a big foodie, and the options here are amazing. I haven't gotten tired of eating Indian food every day, although there's such a wide range of foods throughout India that doing so would be quite an accomplishment. I miss pizza and the kind of cheese I get in the US, but that's more of a constant state of being for me. I usually have three types of cheese in the fridge at my place in DC and tend to avoid pizza that doesn't come from Jersey or New York. I'm loving how cheap the food is here, how often I get to eat really good Punjabi food, and of course, my chikoos and fresh coconut water.

~ V