Alike or Complementary?

We have an innate tendency to associate with the like-minded. Recently, we have seen thinkers and writers refer to the dangers of inhabiting an echo chamber, where you meet people like yourself and never hear views divergent from your own. And how does this translate in relationships? I have heard songs of love, where it seems desirable for one to become dyed in the hues of the other, till they are no longer separate.

All of us know of some truly successful partnerships. We have all envied some enduring and emulation-worthy relationships. We can agree that each, increasingly rare, alliance has been nurtured and supported and strengthened over a period of time. But does the secret lie in the ingredients that came together in the first place or do trials and tribulations strengthen all bonds, as storms test oaks and fire tempers steel?

Perhaps similarity is overrated and complementarity is more desirable. We know that design is created from parts that may be different but they fit, sometimes in surprising ways. Still, I feel at some deep and innate level, the fabric must be similar (at least not jarring) even though structures might vary. Maybe, even between the seemingly disparate, patterns become more beautiful as colors meld and configurations grow more familiar…

Eventually: “We take our colors chameleon-like from each other” Nicolas de Chamfort, writer (1741-1794)

http://www.5oclockreflections.com/alike-or-complementary/

The Saree

It might sound strange to my American friends, but among the things I miss most about my life in India is my daily Indian attire: the saree, six yards of seamless fabric.

For much of my working life, spent in the metropolitan cities of Delhi and Mumbai, I draped a saree every weekday morning. This garment defined me. Its flowing contours characterized my personality, the choice of color spoke to my mood and the fabric changed with the passing seasons. Each Springtime Holi festival signaled the time to bring out starched cottons and delicate chiffons. Each Diwali, with winter at the threshold, it was time to bring out precious silks from carefully lined metal trunks.

One cannot argue with the modernity or freedom or convenience of Western attire, but most Indian women of my generation (and even more of my mother’s generation) still have a deep affinity with the saree. It continues to be worn, in different ways across the different regions of our country, and it magically adapts itself to each lifestyle.

The saree was also intrinsic to my mother’s persona. All my adult life I borrowed her sarees and frequently wore them with my mismatched blouses! Mom had morning sarees and evening sarees and dressing-up sarees; she even had soft nighttime sarees. Even today, her precious sarees carry her fragrance as they hang in my closet, to be worn during visits to India or Indian celebrations or when I am overcome by homesickness and nostalgia…

http://www.5oclockreflections.com/the-saree/

Rain

Most Indians love the rain. As temperatures rise across our country and India’s great plains grow steadily parched, through April and May, all thoughts turn to the Monsoon. We wait breathlessly as it progresses towards our West Coast and watch anxiously for any sign that it might be late or veer off track. (Talking about the weather is serious business in India!)

Indian literature and music and poetry are steeped in the romance of the rainy season, with endless analogy between the promise of rain-laden clouds and a lover’s dark hair. The impatient wait for the beloved is oft likened to waiting for the monsoon rain, which will magically transform the thirsty barren land into moist and fertile earth.

My rain legacy stays within me. I equally enjoy the gentle summer shower and the magnificent stormy downpour – I actually have a storm CD to help me sleep on too quiet nights! Last week, I discovered I am a Pluviophile (described in the dictionary as a lover of rain and someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days) and perhaps there is a tribe of us.

I’ve never really understood why rainy days are characterized as bad weather in the West. Yesterday, as I walked to the metro station with my umbrella and outdoor shoes, I found myself stepping deliberately into some of the splashier puddles…

http://www.5oclockreflections.com/rain/

Home

For decades now, I have lived a life of temporariness, travel and transiency. Wherever I have arrived, it is with the knowledge that I will depart. The excitement of every arrival is tempered for me with the knowledge of my imminent departure.

On the one hand such a life is liberating, an untethered spirit with a kaleidoscope of endless novelty. I have been unbound in this life of adventure and remained free to embrace beloved people, stunning locations and wondrous experiences all around the globe.

On the other hand, I wonder what is home. Is it a house or a place or a person? ‘Forever’ is a word I do not use and it is a very long time since I stayed in any place long enough to witness a seed grow into a sapling and then a tree.

Only now have I started thinking about permanence, a house to buy and perhaps a place or person to call home…

http://www.5oclockreflections.com/home/