Looking for a quick, romantic getaway? With its sparkling lights, posh dining and worthy sites galore, Las Vegas is a sure bet for romance – especially if you want to tie the knot or renew your vows. In fact, Navdeep and I got married there (before the big, fat Desi wedding), so for us, it’s a super-special weekend honeymoon destination.
Travelogue California: The World’s Largest Gingerbread House in San Francisco?
We had all of two days to spend in San Francisco with my parents-in-law, and for some reason, I was stuck on seeing this two-story gingerbread house — made of real gingerbread, of course — at the Fairmont Hotel. So…
Going Local: Seven Days, Seven Buffets in Las Vegas
This is why gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins…. In the city of excess, our favorite way to indulge was definitely with the food. But when a six-inch Subway sandwich runs you ten bucks, the best bet is…
Does a Baby Really Need a Christmas Present?
So it’s Kavya’s first Christmas. She’ll be 10-months-old, and we’ll be in California, sans snow, sans tree. Sans celebration? Christmas has always been an odd holiday for my family. We’re not Christian, by any stretch of the imagination, yet since…
It’s Thanksgiving — Time for Kavya’s First Taste of Masala Turkey
As we count down the days to Thanksgiving, one thing looms large in my mind. It will be crazy. It always is. Literally dozens of relatives descend upon my mom’s house for her signature masala turkey and my homemade macaroni and…
The Best Parenting Advice I Ever Got
A few weeks ago, I was on the subway with Kavya, whose curiosity would be alarming if it weren’t so charming. A man sat down next to us and, as she babbled in his direction, put down his book for…
Eat This Page: Sona’s Special Adraki Chai Recipe
Everyone’s chai recipe is different—but I like to think mine is special. So here, without further ado, is my super-secret, much-coveted recipe. My Kadak Adraki Chai combines the kick of ginger with the mellow flavors of fennel and cardamom. And I like my tea strong (or kadak in Hindi)—so add more milk and less tea for a milder chai . . .
India Travelogue: Reality Bites
When Navdeep dropped me off at the airport on at 1 a.m. on February 6th, I couldn’t help but be a bit teary. Not only was our trip over, but we weren’t even on the same flight back. And as much as I missed everyone, I really didn’t want to head back to reality.India was definitely an adventure for us. We got to see and experience some of the most beautiful – and chaotic – places on the planet. We also got to spend more time with each other than we ever had before, nearly 24 hours a day. And surprisingly, that turned out to be a great thing. So to get on the plane and spend 18-hours alone, thinking about it all, it was like jumping into the deep end when you haven’t been swimming in years.
Maybe Baby? In Response to That Ticking Clock
I should have known when I hit 30 that it would start. In fact, given that my own mother handed me that scary New York magazine cover story about freezing your eggs—you know, just in case — I should have expected it a lot sooner.
Still, considering the place that Navdeep and I are in at this moment in time, the floaty, fleeting nature of both our careers, trying to establish ourselves as writers and get published, and even just trying to figure out which coast to live on, I was hardly ready for it.
No, I’m not pregnant. But it seems like everyone around me has babies on the brain. Navdeep may not have noticed it, but while we were traveling in India, meeting new relatives, the question came up a lot. We’ve been married for about a year-and-a-half now, and by Indian standards, that’s plenty of alone time. People just didn’t seem to grasp what we’re waiting for.
Sometimes I wonder, too. After all, the proverbial clock is ticking away. And you always hear people say that there will never be a right time. But there is a such thing as a very wrong time, isn’t there?
Lazy Spirituality: Gurdwaras, Gompas, and Temples . . . Oh My!
For someone who says she isn’t religious, I’ve sure visited a lot of temples, gurdwaras and even Buddhist gompas in the past month. And despite my frequent protest against the cult of religion (don’t get me started!), it’s been a strangely moving experience. Maybe India’s spirituality is rubbing off on me. Maybe I fancy myself writing a profound memoir of faith a la Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love (which I just finished reading and highly recommend). Or maybe I’m just at that place in my life where I feel the desire to reach out–both in need and in thanks. All I know is this: on this trip, there is definitely something heavy on my mind for which I am seeking guidance, solace and comfort, both for myself and for those I love. Perhaps it’s this turning point I’m facing that is causing this reaction.
When Navdeep and I first met, he’d talk often about the Sikh spirituality, what it meant to him growing up, what it means to him now. To him, Sikhism is almost more of a cultural calling than a religion. It has such a spirited and sacrificial history, you can’t help but be moved by it, especially while standing in one of the many monumental gurudwaras, like the one in Tarn Taran or especially the Golden Temple.
But growing up for me, it was different. We were raised what I call “supposedly Hindu.” Along with the all-American Christmas trees and Easter egg hunts, we tied rakhis and left all the lights on during Diwali, we occasionally dressed up and went to the local temple, we had Sunday morning halwa as prasad. But when I asked questions about why Ram did this (especially regarding the Sita situation) or Shiva did that, I rarely got back more than a shrug. We went through the motions of religion without really feeling connected to its meaning or power. I was bored to tears in the manditory survey of Eastern religions class at Rutgers, which was so cut and dry, completely just the facts ma’am. And that, along with all the news about Jihad this or genocide that, left me so utterly disillusioned with the concept of religion that I became dismissive about it. Religion is a crutch for the weak and an excuse for the angry to pick up arms and kill others. I didn’t need any of that.
So why have Navdeep and I been popping our heads into endless temples, gurudwaras and other places of worship? Why are we here in McLeod Ganj, the spiritual and physical home of modern Buddhism? Why did we spend the day with a Tibetan monk? What is it we’re looking for anyway?
When Navdeep and I first met, he’d talk often about the Sikh spirituality, what it meant to him growing up, what it means to him now. To him, Sikhism is almost more of a cultural calling than a religion. It has such a spirited and sacrificial history, you can’t help but be moved by it, especially while standing in one of the many monumental gurudwaras, like the one in Tarn Taran or especially the Golden Temple.
Bus-Ted: Ruminating on India’s Local and “Deluxe” Buses
When Navdeep repeatedly warned me about the uber-bumpy buses we’d be taking on this trip, I didn’t really take him seriously. After all, I was used to dealing with the horrors of New Jersey Transit and Greyhound. Not to mention the fact that I once took one of those video-buses that play old, scratchy Bollywood flicks at eardrum-blasting levels the whole ride. It didn’t seem so bad. I was shoved out of my false sense of security by our first “Semi-Deluxe” bus ride, from Chandigarh to Malout.
Oh Ma! My Knee! : Sona and Navdeep Climb to Vaishno Devi
I don’t really know when or how it was decided that Navdeep and I were going to make the pilgrimage to Vaishno Devi. Neither of us are terribly religious, he had never heard of it, and it was an 18-mile hike up and back. Not something to be taken on lightly.
Perhaps it was my mom who planted the thought. She seems like a likely culprit. She’s been a few times herself, and seriously believes prayers delivered at Vaishno Devi will be considered and answered. This concept of manate (muhnatay) drives millions to the site of the Mata Ki Darshan every year. Despite the treacherous hike, despite the heat, despite the fact that the actual darshan is maybe three seconds at best, a blur of armed guards, marble and gold.
We’ve all had a tough year though, and I know my mom saw our trip as an opportunity to sprinke a little hope, at the very least. So Navdeep and I made the trek carrying the prayers of our loved ones. Not that we didn’t have a good time doing it. We looked at the hike as a bonding adventure, and we took it seriously. Though we were amongst the few pilgrims who could afford a 250-rupee pony ride or even a 3000-rupee one-way helicopter ride to the top, we wanted to make the trip ourselves, along with the thousands of other Indians from all over the country (and the planet) who chose that day to make the climb.
But it wasn’t easy. My mom promised us that the hike would be two hours up and two hours down. Ha! Maybe if you take a super-speedy pony. I’m no avid hiker, but I can handle a good walk. So Navdeep and I set out at 11 a.m. at a leisurely pace, stopping for ice cream, cold coffee and juice, posing for pictures, admiring the hilly countryside. By two p.m., we had barely hit the half-way mark. By the time we reached the actual site of the shrine at six p.m., it was sunset and we were exhausted.