Neglect me not!


“Avi, wash your face?”

“I did mom”

“Last I heard, people still used water and soap, not hand sanitizer to wash. And change your clothes…”

“I hardly wore them for a week….they are cool.”

We all get into this banter with our Tweens. I am supposed to head out to dinner, for a change, to a place where they didn’t serve on trays….well I do wish now we had gone to Burger King rather than to these fancy places.

What’s the opposite of pamper – neglect? Some of us do not like to acknowledge some  sections of society are neglected…so let us just say some privileged people in society are pampered more than others. For instance, the lady at the reception takes it up as her job profile to find and pamper those who she would like to wait lesser, treated better, respected. I guess it’s not her fault…how is she supposed to guess you make 200/hour if you don’t spend money grooming your hair.

So…after giving us this look like we haven’t showered for a week, she went on to say she would text us when a table becomes available.

“Ummm…you need my number?”

“Yes, yes” she hits some keys.

After noticing some 20 + empty tables offered to walk-ins, I ask her again. She says she tried to text/find me.

“I was right there…anyway…what’s the number you have for me?”

She scrolls through her waiting list, unable to find my name nor my number. Strange, huh?

Well….everything happens for the good….now my Tween has learnt the valuable lesson in life that he needs to dress like a million dollars, who cares if he is on honor roll or the pride of his family. That he will be judged by the color of his skin and his iPhone version, who cares if he will be the future President of this fancy restaurant or of this country.

Banks of Godavari, India

via Photo Challenge: Delta



via Wheel

Some days I wish all the wheels in my car were flat…..



A Local Immigrant

via Local




Where are you from?

I get that question a lot. “I am a Florida local”, I answer.

“No, where are you REALLY from?”

I want to say, ‘why would I lie to you’, but then I understand what the question really meant and being the kind person that I am….I choose to make them happy, I answer ‘India’….even though I am an American citizen….and love the local restaurants…..and the local beaches….and have American children. My son comes back from school and asks me ‘Why do they ask me where I am from?’ I could have taught him to stand his ground that he was a local, however, a little spark in me would not let me deny my child of belonging to both worlds.

When we visit India next, I make sure he travels by the auto rickshaws, eats street food, uses the local telephone booths. He is thrilled…needless to say he wants to be Indian now. And I tell him, he is half American and half Indian, that he is a global citizen.

We have enough borders, religions and races as it is. It is time for us to assimilate and learn to think and live globally. We are all members of the same family called humanity first.