The Sidewalk

A freshly poured sidewalk is so beautiful isn't it? Smooth, young and ready for adventure, it has no idea what is about to happen. It stretches out proudly, sparkling under the sun. And then comes life.

The trampling of feet driven by the need of empty consumerism. The roller blades and bicycles, the skateboards and scooters. The incessant clatter of traffic and talk. Satellites and street lights from above look down upon it, trying to fathom its stillness. 

Oh sidewalk, what happened to you? Once so new and beautiful, now you look years overdue. 

You have withstood sun and wind and rain. You have endured hearing so many people's pains.

Over time, the wear and tear has shown its face. Cracks and fine lines are starting to leave their trace.

Reckless chewing gums and spilled coffee, leaving their marks along with sticky toffee.

You sit and you wait and give your all. On so many occasions handling so many others' falls.

Cars have rear ended you. Weeds have grown through you. 

But you are still lovely to me dear sidewalk. What an inspiration that you have not changed no matter what others have done. Whether the daily news was gruesome to hear or whether the weather left you with no shelter, you stayed. You let us walk all over you never asking for a thanks. Maybe someone left you a lucky penny or a ribbon fell from a little girl's hair. You are lovely still my sidewalk. Falter not in my eyes. Gently sanded by the erosion of time, I feel the pain of your thoughts. There are a few among us who can know what you know and realize all that we've lost. 

Let the rains wash upon your face, be it weathered and old.

No rainbow at the end of street can shine like you, certainly not any pot of gold.

There is something to be said about genuineness and generosity and being real.

You are something all too close to what should be and what we should feel.

What drives people to superficial perfection? The ridiculous notion that all must be right?

I'd give anything to have your stance, your proudness, your might.

Life calls so I must go and you are beautiful still.

Oh sidewalk don't you let them change you, lay there and be still. 

Dear Car Manufacturers,

My dear car manufacturers,

I've loved cars since I was a kid. Perhaps it's because my Mummy really wanted to have a son after having two daughters - I have photographs of me wearing bow-tied suits and some amazing polyester dress pants. And don't get me started on the years of "boycut" hair. 

Fast forward to my teenage years and in lieu of having Tom Cruise or Kirk Cameron on my wall, I had an exquisite framed poster of a shiny red Ferrari 308 GTS. Yup, here it is...that very image...

Little did I know that somewhere along the road - no pun intended - that car would feed my love for speed. It was 1987 when we moved to Bombay, India. There were no road rules, no speed limits, no driving rules really. It's where I learned how to drive a stick shift among the cows, cars and people and what an amazing experience it was. I know you may not have heard of the Ambassador, (photo below), but let's just say it could seat many people and it was quite the gas guzzler. Tatas, Fiats, Marutis and other brands were all over the road and when the wee hours of the night were available to me and my friends...fun things happened. 

Don't worry, there were no seat belts in the car so we didn't break any seat belt laws. And there were no speed limits, so we were okay in that department too. Worli Seaface was the place to be after going to a club or party. All of us would squish each other in the car and turn up the music really loud just so we would have to talk even louder over it. And there lay the beautiful open roads of Bombay. Dotted with street lights and roadside vendors selling jalapeno-filled grilled cheese, every sense was on fire. Moving back to America in 1992, I remember those roads and the speed a lot. My first test drive in a Toyota Corolla landed me on the wrong side of the road (hey, I first drove in Bombay, okay?).

All those years later, at 43, I still have a love for speed. NASCAR? Better than watching the evening news any day. My car history is pretty plain: Toyota Corollas, Nissan Muranos and now a BMW X3. And while the latter does fuel the road pretty fast, where am I supposed to go in Jacksonville, Florida over 35 miles per hour?

So I ask you...where oh where are these "Closed course. Professional driver. Do not attempt." roads that you advertise in your head-turning commercials? I mean do you honestly think you can tease us like that? You play a really cool song, add a good-looking guy, a gorgeous open road and then fuel it with fast-paced images of your car speeding down a road I have never seen and well, is a closed course. I'll go through all the driving school needed if that's what it'll take for an invitation. 

So hopefully, I have your attention and I'll be happy to give you my address and phone number. My driving record is good (okay, a few speeding tickets, but nothing was over 85mph - even though I once went 103mph...ssshhh). I really don't want to be caught at the age of 88 flying down a road, so if you would love to see me smiling at 95mph on one of your courses, my birthday is December 9th. Just saying...

The Demise of Dressing Well

When I got married, my husband laughed when I mentioned I had never owned a t-shirt. No really, I wore my first t-shirt at 28. My very stylish mother banned them...and I never argued why. She believed a shirt with a collar that was ironed screamed "I'm here" vs. "What's up?" Today I see t-shirts ad nausea. I am so tired of t-shirts being the comfortable go to at restaurants, vacations, cruise ships...with everything and anything splattered on them...and that's only one part of today's dressing dilemma. 

According to Businessweek Magazine, things have gone downhill over time. “In the past decade those seemingly harmless polo shirts and khakis have spawned a five-day sartorial office free-for-all that's led to low-cut jeans and 'tramp stamp' tattoos.”

I apologize to anyone who may think this is offensive but when it comes to fashion, people's interpretation of 'casual' and 'appropriate' differs immensely. And I mean immensely. Sure, people love Casual Friday offerings of jeans and flat shoes but others use it as an excuse to exercise self-expression. And the latter as I've personally witnessed is quite a disaster. Flip flops as I grew up seeing...were only seen on the beach - not the boardroom. Tank tops at a Fortune 500? Please! Sleeveless tops to address world news? I don't want to see a man's underarms on an HDTV screen, why a woman's?! And don't get me started on cropped pants on women - we were ridiculed as kids as those being called "floods" for a reason.
Regrettably, society has gone so far past the style spectrum, I'm not sure we can reel them back. Some people simply don't have the desire to dress well in a way that is self-respecting. There's too many walking around that really need a pink slip from the fashion police. I miss policies, dress policies that is. And if you are as old as I am, you'll remember what I mean. Just watch an episode of Mary Tyler Moore or the Dick Van Dyke Show - now that's class. It's why Mad Men has such a following - refined dressing at its best.

It's hard to talk seriously with someone about your bank account when you're the one wearing real shoes and an actual outfit and they are in a sleeveless dress and flip flops. What's wrong with this picture? And I wince at how many teachers must either stub their toe or get stomped on in their fancy sandals.
I must take a moment to thank the men of the world. Thankfully, they are not strutting around in t-shirts, flip flops, cropped anything or sleeveless muscle shirts at work. In fact, history proves that the news has always been delivered by men in suits, women, ah yeah, not so. 

Clothes have a beautiful language of their own. They communicate who we are and how we want to be respected. Why else do movie stars pay ten of thousands of dollars for top stylists to dress them or even organize their wardrobe? They need to be dressed in a certain way to send out a certain message - to their fans, the media and directors who could send them potential jobs and scripts. Gwen Stefani was once asked how she always looks good. "I dress knowing I'll be seen so I make that extra effort." A simple philosophy that too many could easily apply with five extra minutes in the morning. 

Sure, freedom in fashion and freedom of expression do go hand in hand, but kindly express what you will at the mere knowledge that all of us get to see you. And impressions in dressing well go a really long way...

The Week in Review

I could very well focus once again on my lovely broken boned left foot, because today marks five weeks since I fell off my bike. But I'm not.

I want to write about this whole week, the first week of Saloni and Sohan's summer vacation and the first real week of me taking baby steps to walk. It was such a full yet relaxing week - sounds weird right? But I guess I mean full with activity and great naps. Joy and laughter and sleep-filled nights. And even stopping to try a pickle (the kids are out to reform me in the pickle eating department). 

Saloni started her 1/2 day theater camp at Players by the Sea and while she may be the youngest there, she's up for trying anything and I love that. She honestly makes me want to get on stage, but I fear about a third of Jacksonville would leave the city if that happened. Sunil and I had a lovely dinner date Wednesday after a really long time - dessert and everything - I was in heaven. Sometimes you just need that uninterrupted time with the one you love so you can remember the color of their eyes and how intelligent they are. Sohan and our neighbor, Parker, enjoyed a drop in day of gymnastics and loved it - honestly, where were these camps when we were kids? Oh wait, my parents never allowed us to go to camps, never mind. 

Blue sky summer...except for the second paragraph below

Then there were all the little in-between things...Sohan always holding the door open for me wherever we went and making sure my crutches fit. Saloni asking if I was okay if about 10 minutes of silence went by (does that mean I normally cause a ruckus?). Sunil talking about all the new developments happening in the city - how he keeps up with everything that goes on in the world is completely beyond me. Catching up with friends over the phone or texts - always feels good. Running into all my favorites in the neighborhood - our builder, Dan, our neighbor, Jim and our inspector, Inspector Gadget - that's what the kids call him - who by the way, out of pure kindness, dropped a pizza by just because. Made my week...

And pardon me as I wish you could see my expression as I write this next line - IT RAINED this week! Yes, no pitter patter, I mean splitter splatter - beautiful gushing down droplets of pure awesomeness. I even left the front door open to  feel it's intensity. Okay, so now you know I love rain and have been waiting weeks for it. Thank you weather Gods, it's always nice to know you hear my prayers every now and then.

I did begin this week by finally walking (yes baby steps) into my studio - hadn't gone in since my fall...just seeing all of my Sunisha Designs "stuff" made me really hungry to work again. So I started cleaning and organizing and ooohhh, it felt so good. Ideas in my head were flowing, the kids started crafting and when Sunil popped his head in after work...well, it was a Kodak moment...

I know not every week can be this fulfilling so I just want to put my feet up and reflect. I want to be thankful for all the builders and construction workers and teachers and friends and family and well just about everyone I guess. Collectively they make the world come together in a most extraordinary way. Don't you think?