On Gifting - Then and Now

 

 

​G​rowing up in middle-class childhood homes, new clothes were bought only on Diwali or birthdays. Things were limited, and so were choices. Which is why gifts mattered. They arrived rarely, deliberately, and with meaning. If someone gifted us something we truly needed, loved, or had been wanting for a long time, it felt special​ and almost magical. Big or small, a decorative piece or a simple item of clothing, it was treasured because it carried emotion, effort, and thought. It wasn’t just an object; it was a feeling wrapped in paper.

Today, with disposable incomes and everything available at our fingertips, the meaning of gifts has quietly shifted. Our homes are already full. We buy what we want the moment we think of it. We rarely know each other deeply enough to understand real needs or quiet desires. In a culture of instant buying and constant upgrading, gifts often become repetitive, impersonal, or forgettable. Many times, they feel less like an expression of care and more like a social obligation​. A box to be checked.

Of course, well​ thought​ out and heartfelt gifts still hold immense value, and they always will.​.. But when gifting loses intention and turns into routine​ or obligation, one can’t help but wonder​ ​if the culture of gifting has lost its soul? And if so, should we pause, rethink, or even stop, until meaning finds its way back?

Missing Holi in Gwalior: A Festival That Feels Different Now...

It’s Holi today, and while I’ve tried to keep the spirit alive wherever I am, there’s always a quiet emptiness that creeps in this time of year. Holi used to mean something entirely different when I was growing up in Gwalior... A festival that was louder, messier, more chaotic, and yet so full of heart. Now, as an immigrant far from home, Holi feels quieter, more reflective and honestly, a little lonely.

Growing up in Gwalior, Holi wasn’t just about colors, it was about the people, the atmosphere, and the effortless joy that came with it. The day would start early with the sounds of laughter and splashes of color filling the streets. Friends and neighbors would come together without the need for an invitation. The air would smell of gulaal and wet earth, and the streets would be lined with people chasing each other, drenched in color, while loud Bollywood songs blasted from every corner. 

I remember how we used to plan our color attacks the night before. We used to gather pichkaris and water balloons, and by mid-morning, everyone was unrecognizable under layers of silver pinks, blues, and greens. There was no worry about clothes being ruined or hair being a mess because that was the point. Then came the sweets...gujiyas, thandai, and all sorts of homemade snacks that every household seemed to have an endless supply of. Holi was a sensory overload in the best possible way!!! Colorful, loud, sweet, chaotic, and deeply comforting.

It’s been years, but I vividly remember the exhaustion after a long shower, scrubbing off the stubborn colors from my skin and hair. The tender warmth of the March sun on our hands, still stained with hints of color. That special mom made chicken curry, a Holi tradition that tasted like home. And the quiet that followed after all the chaos and laughter... A peaceful stillness that made it all feel complete.  

But Holi as an adult, and more so as an immigrant, feels… different. I still try... I make something colorful, maybe buy some gulaal, and wish friends and family over text. But there’s no crowd of friends showing up unannounced, no neighbors dragging me into a color fight, no loud music spilling into the streets. The energy is missing. The spontaneity is missing. And with that, the feeling of being truly immersed in the festival is gone too.

What makes it harder is the contrast. I know what Holi can feel like, so this quieter version feels hollow. It’s not that I’m not grateful for the life I’ve built here, but this version of Holi lacks the warmth and chaos that made it so special back home. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s the festival I miss or the version of myself that existed back then. The carefree kid surrounded by friends and family, not worrying about the next day or the cleanup.

I think the hardest part about missing Holi isn’t just the lack of celebration, it’s the emotional weight of realizing that some things might never feel the same again. Traditions evolve, people grow apart, and places change. Holi back in Gwalior exists now only in my memory, but that’s why it feels so vivid. It’s untouchable, preserved in my nostalgia.

Still, I try. I put on some music, maybe make a small batch of gujiya/mathri, and call family and friends back home. It’s not the same, but it’s enough... Because maybe Holi now isn’t about recreating the past, it’s about holding onto the feeling of connection, even when the celebration looks different. And maybe that’s enough for now.

So, to anyone missing home a little more today - Happy Holi. May the colors find you, even if they arrive more quietly this year...

Picture courtesy: A random colorful doodle made by me for Holi. 

Dusshehra For Me! Then and Now...

I grew up in a small house in India that was situated right on the main road with lots of shops all around.
Every traffic jam, every marriage procession, every funeral march was visible from our balcony, and audible from anywhere inside the house.

While the guests at home always complained of loud noises, we were innately accustomed to noise of horns, horse taps, and regular hustle-bustle that started with the opening of the first shop and continued till the last shop closed.
Along with lots of dust and noise, we were also a participant in all the festival celebrations that took place in that market – by default.

I woke up to a swarm of messages on Dusshehra and Vijay Dashmi yesterday and today (apparently it is being celebrated both days this year)
While now, it is limited to Whatsapp and Facebook messages and forwards from friends and family members, it used to be a lot different back then!

Dusshehra also marked the onset of chilly weather in the part of world I grew up in.
The sweet shop right in front of our house used to extend its display. The music shop on the other side played loud music for the occasion. The street and shops used to get decorated. People would start planning the whitewash for Diwali. Some of us also used to worship our vehicles that day.

There was a Ram leela on a ground close enough that we could hear all the dialogues. The Ravan they made used to be tall enough for us to see from our rooftops. The smell of fireworks mixed with a little wind chill at night, was a feeling I still remember. Some years we went to that Ramleela ground, some years we waited on our rooftop to see the fireworks, and some years we were in train coming back from the annual satsang that we used to go to…

It is strange that I never appreciated those days as much back then as I do now…Specially on the festivals. When I know there is an occasion, but I don’t see anyone else celebrating around me.

And that just reinforces my all-time policy of “Har pal yaha… Jee bhar jiyo…jo hai sama…kal ho na ho…”

Coming back to present -
While the mode of celebration has changed, place of celebration has changed, style of celebration has changed, one thing I surely would like to keep consistent with this festival is the message of “Triumph of Good over Evil”
No matter how we celebrate, it is a good day to remind ourselves to be nice to be good and to remember being that all year round…

My day would probably end telling stories about Dussehra to kids and maybe a drive down the local temple where they plan to burn Ravan effigy!
Happy Vijaydashmi to everyone and Happy upcoming festival season!

Music and Me

Wikipedia says” Music is an art form whose medium is sound and silence”

I say, music is something that goes to the soul and touches the heart.
For me, music is magic.Music creates memories.

Music is something I feel and not listen to.
Music has the power to touch me deep inside my heart.

Music can sway me back in time.
It can remind me of a long lost friend or a phase of life.
It can make me happy and can make me sad.
It can bring a smile on my face and can bring tears to my eyes.

At times, I listen to music according to my mood and at times, music can set my mood.

After a long time today, I trusted the “random song” playlist.
And had a rollercoaster ride of emotions.
While a song reminded me of my brother’s wedding, another one reminded me of a sweet thing a friend said.
One song took me back to my high school and the other one to my early wedding days.
One song took me back to a phase of life that I would like to forget and another one to a virtual beach :D

Music has the power to take me to a different world altogether, and I had a great trip down the memory lane today.

Picture: Something I scribbled and clicked at work while on a tea break!
P.S. That is a music note with hearts in a big heart. Idea behind it - I love music! 

There's a great big beautiful tomorrow...

October 2013. Our first trip to Disney world. My favorite attraction - "Carousel of Progress"

A ride where the audience revolves around a stage to see the Progress we made over the years starting from the turn of century... It is hard to believe that there was a time when there was no electricity, cell phones, planes, TV and even water supply at homes.

People back then never thought that they could fly one day, or there would be moving pictures on a box or they could talk to someone far far away...and the daily chores can be done by just pressing a button. 

But this is all a reality today. Just because someone had a dream. And they worked on the dream to make it true. 

I came out of the ride with a lovely song to hum...With a hope that tomorrow is going to be beautiful...And knowing that nothing is impossible. It is just a dream away!!! All we need to do is dream and work to make our dreams come true.

As much as I loved the concept, I loved the song that was played as we revolved around the stage. And I have been humming this ever since...:) 

There’s a great, big, beautiful tomorrow
Shining at the end of every day
There’s a great, big, beautiful tomorrow
And tomorrow’s just a dream away

Man has a dream and that’s the start
He follows his dream with mind and heart
And when it becomes a reality
It’s a dream come true for you and me

So there’s a great, big, beautiful tomorrow
Shining at the end of every day
There’s a great, big, beautiful tomorrow
Just a dream away

PS. I went to this show/ ride thrice. Try to find this on youtube. I am sure you will end up humming this song all day long...

Being Thankful...

 

I was driving my kids to school this morning. At a red light, I looked back at my older one to say something and I felt some discomfort in my eye. I had never felt that before. The light turned green and we kept going. 

When I felt it again while in front of my computer later during the day, I resorted to our best (or not so best) friend google to see what it could be. Biggest mistake right? Ignorance is sometimes bliss. 

After reading all the scary stories and looking at horrific pictures, I was scared that I might loose my eyesight. Too quick to conclude? Probably the mind is programmed to believe bad over good. 

All of a sudden all these thoughts started coming to my mind as to how life would be if that happens. I wont be able to see my kids? No TV, No computer, No reading, No colors, No life? 

Within an hour and half after pleading with the scheduler, I was at the Ophthalmologist. With every letter I read on the board I felt I topped the class. With every test being cleared, gave me a sense of satisfaction that everything is alright. The doctor concluded that everything is fine and the pain is due to the inflammation and should go away. I breathe a sigh of relief. 

But wait, doctor, you dialated my pupil, I cannot see anything. How would I drive back home? 

You are fine driving it is just in the room that you cannot see for a couple of hours.

I came out with blurry vision. Saw 2 missed calls on my phone, but could not read who was the caller. Sent voice message to Sachin and he replied with a text. Could not read it. Came back home and tried to work on computer, could not. Thought of catching up with my DVRed shows. Could not. Finally I resorted to bed and closed my eyes. 

While I closed my eyes and got a moment to think, I thought about people who actually do not have eye sight or for some reason lost it. My heart was heavy, and I could feel their pain. I could feel a tear coming out of my dilated eyes.

As after a point, those thoughts started making me uncomfortable so I called some friends. By the time my phone calls ended I could see better. I thanked God for my vision and for everything I have. I realized that sometimes, being thankful is the most comforting thing you can do for yourself.

October is all about pink

We have heard about it. We know about it. We have seen it on TV. But, what we don't know or understand is what they go through who are actually affected by it, till someone you know personally is affected by it.

Did you know that one in every eight women in the U.S. will be diagnosed with breast cancer in her lifetime? That’s one every three minutes

Some one in my office is taking chemotherapy. She has breast cancer. I was taken aback when I heard about it. The only thing that was likable about the whole situation was her spirit. Her spirit to fight the disease. Her spirit to support those who support the cause. Her enthusiasm to help eradicate the disease or at least have an early diagnostic.

Our firm took one step further and supported Lee National Denim Day.

Lee National Denim Day® is one of the largest single-day fund raisers for breast cancer. On Oct. 3, millions of people nationwide will slip into their favorite jeans and make a $5 donation (or more) to support the Women’s Cancer Programs of EIF, who are bringing together world-class scientists to develop an early detection blood test and working in Lee Labs nationwide to find less toxic, more effective treatments for breast cancer patients.

We are proud to support this event and the fight against breast cancer. You can check out our team page at http://www.denimday.com/team_page.aspx?tid=228322. There, you can donate money to this cause and learn more about breast cancer. Whatever we contributed, Our company matched it.

We did slip into our jeans yesterday with our pink ribbons broaches. I meant to write this blog before Oct 3, but somehow could not. But it is not over. You can show your support for whole month of October. So, go pink, donate if you can, put the pink ribbon in your profile and spread awareness.

God bless.