Homecoming Symphony

These days I wake to the quiet embrace of unusual winter mornings in Kolkata. For the first time in years, the city is likely to bid a warm send-off to 2023 with the missing chill only slated to emerge with Janus’ grand return in 4 days from now. Despite the absence of north westerly winds, I find myself immersed in the symphony of homecoming. The air, still crisp and shrouded in fog, carries whispers of nostalgia that weave through the familiar streets I miss when I am away, and grumble about when I return.

At dawn, the first rays of the sun stream through mum’s white lace curtains, casting a patterned glow upon the familiar corners of our home. My father, a silhouette against the early light, rolls back the large brown sliding glass windows of our living room and tends to his Bougainvillea with a devotion that mirrors the roots he’s planted in soil. The kettle whistles, and the clinking of cutlery signals his initiation of the morning tea ritual—the first of many cups he’ll enjoy throughout the day. Maa’s movements begin to echo in the kitchen, accompanied by the faint backdrop of the Facebook reels they’re watching and the familiar acoustics of a city stretching and stirring back to life. These sounds reach me, nestled in bed in that dreamy half-awake, half-asleep state, as I absorb the soothing symphony of home.

I have a feeling that the sounds of maa’s kitchen are more intentional than coincidental. They serve as the day’s starting gun, akin to a flag unfurling at the beginning of a race—a subtle cue for my brother and me to rise and begin our day. Initially disregarded, the race master’s voice suddenly reverberates through the air, and in seconds, sleep dissipates as our feet hasten to kickstart morning chores and rituals. Maa’s hands move with a rhythm born out of years of practice. The clang of utensils, sizzling egg whites or spices in hot oil – each sound tells a story of comfort, of meals shared and traditions upheld. The aroma of masalas surrendering their scents and flavors, expertly tossed and blended by the hands of Maa (and occasionally Papa) delicately matching powders and pastes, will always bring me back to the warmth of home.

Papa’s Spotify plays an old Christmas hymn by The Imperials , a tune that has accompanied countless December mornings in the three homes we have all shared. Its nostalgic notes form a backdrop to the familiar sounds of a neighborhood in slow motion. Children’s voices, the calls of street vendors, and the intermittent honking of passing vehicles compose a cacophony of life that is uniquely Kolkata.

As I wash the breakfast dishes, the rhythmic flow of water turns into a kind of meditation. The clinking of plates and the running water create a calming melody that echoes the essence of home life. The wooden floor boards beneath my feet, cool to the touch, ground me in a reality that transcends borders and reminds me of the warmth of belonging. In the distance, the neighborhood church bells chime, and the syncopated chaos of another winter morning fills the air. In these quiet moments of housework and everyday life, Kolkata becomes more than a city; it is a living, breathing memoir of familial ties and the richness of relationships. I am reminded that for me the heart of Kolkata is not in her famous landmarks or culinary delights but in the everyday, the mundane, and my favorite – the satisfaction that comes from an ordinary day at home.

Exploring Eastward – Navigating Japanese and Indian Literature this Summer

In the quiet corners of my home, amidst the sun-kissed pages of my novels or my well used iPad Screen, I find solace and embark on wondrous journeys through time and space. Over the years my summer reading habit has blossomed into a cherished ritual, a delightful escape from the everyday humdrum, and this year, my literary wanderings have taken me to the enchanting land of Japan, where I have savored the works of remarkable Japanese authors. Three weeks into my summer break, like a stream finding its way, I have enrolled in a course offered by the University of Tokyo, seeking to immerse myself further in the captivating tapestry of the ‘Visual and Literary Culture of 19th-century Japan.’

As I sit in my room captured by the stories that grace my shelves,I am transported to a world where the ordinary intertwines with the extraordinary. The delicate brushstrokes of Japanese literature find resonance with my thoughts and beliefs

In the tapestry of my mind, the vibrancy of familiar Indian writers i read earlier this year, intertwines effortlessly with the evocative artistry of Japanese storytellers. Just as the scent of spices dances through the air, mingling with the fragrance of cherry blossoms, so do the narratives of two diverse cultures merge within my imagination. The words of Murakami and Mishima blend with those of Lahiri and Rushdie, creating a symphony of emotions and experiences that transcends borders.

As I delve into the 19th-century visual and literary culture of Japan, I am struck by the profound connection I feel. The delicate brushwork of ukiyo-e prints mirrors the intricate descriptions found in the works of Indian authors. The gardens and landscapes depicted in these art forms, meticulously crafted with delicate strokes, evoke the same sense of serenity as the tranquil verses of Mulk Raj Anand, Naidu or Tagore.

Through my summer reading, I have come to appreciate the boundless beauty of diverse cultures and the transformative power of literature. Each page turned is an invitation to explore, to expand my horizons, and to savor the wonders of the human imagination. My reading habit  has become a gateway to understanding, a vessel that carries me across time and space.

In the gentle embrace of my favorite white reading chair, with a cup of chai in hand, I find myself immersed in a world where cultures converge, where words paint vivid landscapes, and where the joys of discovery never cease. This summer, as I embark on my journey with the University cohort, I know that my heart will be filled with a profound appreciation for the power of learning and storytelling, a gift that transcends physical distance and connects kindred spirits.

Bringing Travel into the Classroom

This article was featured on the Innovate My School, UK website, August 2020.

I’ve always been obsessed with travelling. As a teenager I volunteered with my church group to traverse India working in villages, prisons, NGOs and hospitals. The experiences fulfilled me in ways I cannot fully explain and each year, I looked forward to doing more meaningful work and exploring my country every chance I got. As a young teacher some years later, I began organizing regular domestic travel for my students. I have such incredible memories of those early trips to forts and palaces in Southern India, ancient monuments hidden in mountains of the North and paragliding over sparkling waters in Goa. It’s quite possible that I had more fun than the kids on those journeys, but as I reflect on those experiences, I realize that they also allowed me the unique opportunity to see students developing an understanding of essential skills and it was pretty remarkable to me how a short break of eight or ten days could educate children in a way that classroom teaching never could. In fact, I am a firm believer that travel experiences can do more for character education and a sense of identity than any other experience in life can.

 

Over the last twelve years I have been to twenty-three countries and to simply say that travel changed me a little each time would be an understatement. Now, the philosophical world traveler in me feels the need to describe these moments as rich cultural experiences, but, truth be told, at first I was only interested in getting pictures for Facebook – the social and cultural education was a convenient bonus. Over the years, I have spent most of my time attempting to prepare children for life. I’ve learned from some incredible mentors, taken great courses, and had many professional development opportunities. Yet my travel experiences have taught me just as much and helped me become a better educator.

Shared-Learning

Sharing my travel stories with my students allows for intercultural understanding. It allows me to share my learning with them, inspiring and encouraging them to chase their passions and dreams. Personal travel stories allow me to address and hopefully debunk stereotypes, biases and presumptions towards cultures. They have the potential to awaken students to traditions and values of cultures, helping students recognise and value new ideas.

Making Sense of the Past 

I remember standing inside the cavernous hall of the Armenian Genocide Musuem in Yerevan and thinking to myself ‘Why didn’t we learn about this in school’? But when it comes to history, there are plenty of things we don’t know. More than a hundred years on, the impact of the Armenian genocide reverberates loud, and is echoed by the other atrocities that dot our social media feed daily. Too often despair stands in the way of action and knowledge leads to a sense of hopelessness. We cannot bring back to life the dead of the past or those who have been victims of political mass murder throughout the ages, but, through courage as well as knowledge, we can act to bring about a world free from the scourge of hatred. In committing ourselves to everyday things to create a world of peace, freedom, and mutual respect, we honor the memory of those who have fallen victim to the ultimate crimes. The genocide will soon turn 100, but the capacity to forgive is infinite. Mercy forsakes logic, math, numbers – I hope my students will always remember that.

Look Beyond the Textbooks

Some years ago, while travelling around Jordan, a friend arranged for me to spend 2 days at an orphanage school in Amman. The school was full of Syrian refugee kids trying to come to terms with their new circumstances. Recounting those experiences to my students, I realized that many of them admitted to knowing very little about the refugee crisis and the political landscape of the Arab countries. Before I began travelling, my Private School education too had actually taught me very little about it. Our curricula is sometimes so western-focused that we hardly really learn about the histories of people and nations in less developed parts of our planet.

I started this post thinking I would list ten ways in which travel helps me inspire my students, and I could go on listing my reflections; but I must keep my terminal verbosity at bay, so I’ll just leave you with some thoughts to consider with students in your classrooms.

• In a world that is constantly assaulting the senses, travel teaches young people the value of doing nothing and using time and space to unwind and make sense of their experiences
• The last twelve years has also cemented the idea that learning doesn’t end with a high school degree. In fact, graduating high school can be like baby steps – true education happens while you’re living and experiencing life in the real world
• Culture connects us all; despite having unique ways of experiencing the world, once you spend enough time with people you will realize that we have more shared humanity than we realize. The things that make us different, make us special, but the things which we share in common unite us too.
• Until I moved to the UAE, world travel seemed like a distant dream; the kind that sits at the back of your head, but you never give it any importance because you doubt it will happen for you. Over the last twelve years I have gained confidence in the idea that dreams are attainable if you work at them. I know that sounds cliché, but it is true, and when I tell that to my students, I believe it; because that has been my own experience.

So there you have it, if I were to sum up everything that I am feeling as I type this, I would say that sharing my travel experiences with my students has helped me create a safe zone for learning about life. Students are always interested to know about their teachers’ personal lives and sharing my travel experiences with them helps me intersect the personal with the profound in a way that subject content might never be able to.

I hope that each of my students can have some degree of world travel experience. When I started wandering and wondering, I discovered things about the world I had not known before and through it, I discovered who I was. I hope they too have the wonderful opportunity to discover themselves and the history of shared humanity through the joys of travel.

Joy in the Journey

For my last weekend in Al Ain I could think of nothing more fitting than a drive up to Jebel Hafeet. Over the last two-and-a-half years, escaping to the top of the limestone range has been my favorite pastime. I even chose my apartment because of its mountain view and I will always remember standing out on my balcony on winter mornings waiting for cloud-cover to rise and reveal the city’s iconic peak.

The view from the top of Jebel Hafeet can often be hazy, maybe as a consequence of the quarrying and cement factories that dot the area. But for me, the beauty has always been in the serpentine journey through hairpin turns, as I play hide and seek with the sun.

In November of 2017, I moved to the Garden City reluctantly as my head and heart continued to combat each other, trying to figure out how to coexist in unison. But the slower pace of life, small town vibes and simple routines grew on me sooner than I thought they would. My rhythm adjusted and the people I met solidified my feelings for my temporary home. Each person had a feel of calm and deep investment in making quiet connections…some private and some to share.

As we drove up to the top this morning, I could not help but marvel at how life plays out, pushing us in the directions that lead us to where we need to be. Thirty minutes into the journey we were making our way to the over-priced café and hoping to catch the sunrise one last time. God’s early morning, egg-yolk exposition did not disappoint.

I hope to return and see the sweeping views of Oman and Al Ain again someday but for me the drive and the anticipation of making it to the top will always be what makes this journey a beautiful experience. It is never about the destination but the journey itself. Just like life.

The Road to Leadership with Hercule Poirot

As Agatha Christie’s world-famous detective turns 100 this year, it’s worth taking a leaf from his book for some real world applications too. This article appears in The WKND Magazine, June 2020.

The quarantine life has affected people differently. Some have taken to baking, others to exercising and some are exploring latent talents. I don’t fall into any of those categories but I have binged my way through potentially all of Netflix’s crime shows and was left with what I call, whodunit withdrawal symptoms. There is always something about crime shows and not knowing the unknown that is intriguing and stimulating to the mind.

While contemporary shows really refine the genre and elevate it to a new level, I still love going back to the ones I grew up with. I know I am dating myself here but, shows like Street Hawk, Perry Mason, Columbo and Agatha Christie’s Poirot series with their red herrings and high-stakes intrigues were the original ‘binge-worthy’ shows way before the notion of bingeing became part of popular culture.

It worked well for me that life in lockdown also coincides with the 100th anniversary of Poirot, which has given me a chance to binge my way through David Suchet’s perfectly helmed episodes.

I started reading the Poirot novels when I was around 10, and as I grew up, I began to understand his character better. But re-watching the episodes against the backdrop of a global pandemic has been something of a revelation. For weeks, I have been discussing with colleagues and friends the importance of leadership and leadership styles; and while there is potentially every possible style currently displayed on the world’s stage, Poirot too (it occurred to me) shows us some characteristics that are perhaps more important today than they have ever been.

Poirot prioritised relationships and deep listening. He embodied the saying ‘To see clearly, listen more’ and so, in many of his cases, it is simple words, an off-hand remark, or a turn of phrase that actually leads him to answers. It is his understanding of human nature, tones and gestures, expressions and body language that helps him connect with people.

Poirot, as I recently observed, was also a spiritual man. In The Triangle at Rhodes, it was his observance of spiritual practices and deep-seated notions of right and wrong that led him to find and prosecute the murderer. As long as the guilty person was not identified and punished, he believed a shadow would hang over the lives of everyone else. Poirot believed closure was vital and that murder was never justified.

In Lord Edgeware Dies, Poirot read upside down during the case to understand the killer’s mindset and, through the series, comes across as someone who constantly upscales his skills. Here was a man who knew himself well and understood that expertise was not optional. Studies suggest that the best leaders know their domains well and while Poirot was by no means perfect, he was humble enough to learn and practise what he did not know.

As we all come to terms with current events, it is perhaps an opportune time to look inward at our own leadership characteristics. It is also the perfect time to reflect on who we choose to lead us. True leaders put people first, prioritise relationships and have the ability to inspire, to take others along on their journey, and be credible. They are able to make people sit up and listen, then follow – not by shouting the odds, but through the power of logical persuasion and a clear sense of purpose.

How wonderful it is that, in fiction, we are able to find a poignant and timely message for the real world. The climate of our times demands leaders who are not just intelligent, but wise; leaders who formulate strategies that target the greater good; leaders who are fair. Poirot, without trying to, can remind us that the more we choose such leaders, the better off we will be.

An Abundance Mindset

This whole week I have been forced by circumstances to think about the constant tug-of-war between abundance and insufficiency. My mind has been marinating in things I have heard, read and discussed with people and I learnt quickly that I was not alone, perhaps because of the climate of our times.

In most people’s minds, there is a battle between two perspectives: abundance and lack. These are almost like two roads that we have to walk but sometimes without a choice, each giving us vastly different experiences of life.

Abundance often correlates with positivity with the core belief that there’s enough out there for everyone. By carving our niche and claiming our little successes, we are happy to bask in the realm of possibility. On the other hand, when we think from a perspective of insufficiency, we could be filled with fear and questioning. We think pessimistically, are highly attuned to what we don’t have and what won’t work, as well as the deficiencies of our situation. Everything is either black or white.

Rhine Falls, Switzerland

While I have been questioning so many things lately, my predominant state is that of gratitude. Abundance doesn’t come from resources alone, abundance is a mentality, no? I am reminded of the majestic waterfalls across the world, some of which I have been so fortunate to see personally. It amazes me how that much water can continuously flow at such speeds, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year, for thousands of years. To me, this is symbolic of a never ending abundance that can come only from a power greater than our little minds can imagine.

The natural world has a lot to teach us if we pay attention, no matter what the present circumstances feel like, it is alive and well and ongoing. My prayer for myself is that I would focus on the abundance instead of all the things that seem so far from reach. And, if you haven’t seen a waterfall, I’d like to share this one with you in the hope that it will remind you to live in an abundance mindset, no matter how difficult it might feel at the moment.

Thank You