Nutcracker and the gorgeous Boston Opera House

This winter break,  I decided to go to Boston Opera House to watch Nutcracker ballet by Boston Ballet to wisely spend my holiday time in Boston ;) .  I was excited to watch ballet for the first time.  And little nervous, since this was my first time attending a western theater. From my impression due to English movies, the theaters are grand, and people who go there are elite, at least look and act that way. I was imagining people with hats and elaborate dresses walking slowly through the theater like what I saw in Titanic. 

And, as I entered the Opera House, I saw why I would think that. Located in the middle of downtown Boston, amidst tall greenish glass-walled modern buildings, the opera house had a narrow entrance. From outside, I could not imagine how big it might be. But as I entered,  I was trying hard to shut my mouth! The opera house was grand! Every corner was decorated intricately, with beautiful carpets, intricate wooden carvings on wall, gorgeous chandeliers, and staircases. It gave me a glimpse of European architecture of 18th and 19th century. (Now, I looked up at Internet and it says, the Opera House opened in 1928.) Since it was end of the year, it was heavily crowded.  There were people from all generations, from really old people to really small toddlers. All the little girls were dressed like ballerinas, and looked so cute!  As I walked across the Opera House towards the theatre, I felt like I was walking in the movie set of Titanic. I could not help imagining Titanic here! People were posing for photographs, talking, meeting friends, there was laughter, conversation and happiness echoing from the walls of the theater. As I climbed through the staircases, I felt like some princess. And then when I entered the theater, it was WOW! It was even more gorgeous than the hallway!  Every corner of the theater was touched with a craftsman or a painter's creative hand.  

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After a while, the play started. I was prepared to shoot the entire show, but then there was an announcement that we were supposed to switch off phones and cameras. I was a little disappointed initially. But later, I realized that it is better that phones were off. The play demanded full attention. And it was amazing! The way the different backgrounds of the story were emerging and closing according to the plot, the lights, and the artists, everything was so gorgeous! I remember, the dance in the ice princess's kingdom, it did feel as if in that corner of the world, there was snow and cloud in real.

Me and my sister spent a lot of time watching ballet dance in Disney Barbie movies. I wondered how does it look in real? Trust me, it looked more dream like in real, much more amazing. Those dance steps done in Disney animation were not animated, they were imitation of real dance steps!

When the show ended, my eyes were wide open with amazement, I wanted more. I returned to the little shops in the Opera House selling souvenirs of the show. I overheard people talking about how did they like the show and all. I was impressed how they loved and cherished a simple children's fairy-tale story so much.  It seemed as if this play has a lot to do in shaping childhood memory of kids in West. It was amazing how longingly people relished their childhood memory of the play, how people went there with their kids, now with their grand-kids, how people attended the show at London, and how they love to watch it again, how little kids wanted the trinkets, and everybody was eager to buy them. 

When I first read the pamphlet, the story seemed  very simple to me. I was more excited about the ballet. But after watching people's reaction, I realized it is not just a play to these people. Its a part of celebrating holidays. I wonder how much power does a simple story have! How many kids will have vivid memories of the play even when they are old!

A little search in Wikipedia tells me,   "The Nutcracker is a two-act ballet, originally choreographed by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov with a score by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (op. 71). The libretto is adapted from E.T.A. Hoffmann's story The Nutcracker and the Mouse King, written in 1816. It was given its première at the Mariinsky Theatre in St. Petersburg on Sunday, December 18, 1892, on a double-bill with Tchaikovsky's opera Iolanta." 

 

A synopsis of the Nutcracker play is given here. We were also given pamphlets to go through the plot-line. That helped me understand the details of the play. If you are curious, you can have a look at it :)

The play was a filler to my heart with good memories and feelings. I came out of the theater, wide-eyed, excited, dreamy and positive!

 

My suggestion, if you are in or around Boston, definitely give this place a chance. Just to see how gorgeous it is, even if you are not into ballets and stuff. There are coupons and offers to buy tickets at cheaper price. Do watch out for them, you won't regret it!

The cab driver from Somalia

I had to take a cab one afternoon. It was a high traffic period. So in order to kill time me and my cab driver started talking. He was a nice gentleman in his 50s probably. Thanks to him I had a smooth ride and I reached on time. The conversation that followed the next 30 minutes or so was interesting. It made me peep into a different thought process, gave me an idea about different world. I am going to put down excerpts of the conversation. It may hurt peoples' religious, national sentiments and historical knowledge in general. So caution to orthodox or chauvinist people: do not read it ;). Since the conversation was a revelation to me about many aspects, I do not have any opinions about the conversation. I think it will take me long time to form an opinion about the subjects and for time being, I want to just grasp the facts with an awe. So I have decided to put them as I heard, as accurate as my memory allows me. 

• The person has been in Boston for more than 20 years. He traveled here from Somalia long back and has been driving taxis since then. 
• He had to appear a driving test for license renewal purpose one hour after dropping. He was sure that he would qualify. He likes to sit in class because  he likes to learn. But nothing to worry, since everyone knows him in the class due to his experience.
• He was looking forward to get his license renewed, so that he can drive his own taxi.
• He has family and kids back in Somalia. They moved there from Boston, so that the kids can afford cheap high school education.
• He guessed that I am Indian (damn, we are so conspicuous!) and was curious if I was Muslim. When I said No, he was a little disappointed, nevertheless happy that he met an Indian.
• They are 15 siblings, and the youngest of them studied at Northeastern University and is doing a decent job.
• They are from the northern part of Somalia. It is a nice place, with mountains and people live a peaceful life there.
• But there is a war going on in south of Somalia, and that upsets him. According to him, it all can stop if people will communicate and just ask "What do you want?" (I remember clearly, how he moved his hand in a gesture of enquiry.)
• It is very easy for them to find job in north of Somalia. If they do not get job, it is a matter of 8 hours to travel to Saudi Arabia, Yemen or Oman, where jobs are plenty..
• Somalia was a Italian colony during 1940s, at the time of the Mussolini regime.
• It was better in Somalia during Mussolini's regime than it is now. Mussolini was a good guy. People may say many things, but he was a good guy.
• In fact, Mussolini and Hitler, all these people were good.
• (I did object that Hitler killed many people, how can he be good?). He admired  Hitler for being  a tough guy.  He killed only Jewish people. So that's okay.
• If Prophet Mohammad is father, then Ibrahim is like their grandfather. He was a muslim.
• Ibrahim, Prophet Mohammad, Jesus, Jewish people, Christian people all were actually Muslim people. Now Jewish are against Muslims, they claim that Ibrahim is theirs. 
• He thinks Indian education is good, and people get really good education in India. (He was curious why did I have to move to USA).
• He admires Indian people, since they are smart and hardworking and nice, especially smart women who are independent. It makes him feel good about his own kids. It is a treat for him to give ride to Indians. (he seemed to have some nice prior experience with Indians).

sunlight on my face :)

Its not afternoon exactly... Its 6.43PM now. I left lab at 6PM. But in Boston summer, this is still afternoon. Sun is bright and shiny. I took a break and started walking. As I walked I came in the west village complex. The west village quad is a nice lawn with zig-zag paths surrounded by fort-like West Village complex. The West Village buildings are separated by narrow passages that connect the complex to the main road.  So as I was strolling around, saw this bright passage and decided to walk through that. The moment I entered the passage, it felt amazing.  I wish I could describe the awesome feeling.. The sun was directly in front of me and the bright rays fell directly on my whole body, warming up from my face to toes.. I decided to walk in the same direction... crossed the street, walked on another sidewalk that led to the main road. The direct rays were obstructed by the buildings as the sidewalk ended. So I just walked back and forth along the sidewalk... Felt funny.. 

When I was walking facing the Sun, the face was getting flooded by the warmth. I wish I could somehow visualize the light particles spreading on my body.. as I walked with my back to the Sun, my back, waist, thighs and knees were getting heated up. It felt so warm and comforting that I kept walking back n forth for half-an-hour or so :) It was bliss. I just wanted to feel it again and again...

As I walked, talking to myself, I could remember all such afternoons... when I would go out to play in colony at 4 o'clock when I was 5 or 6 years old, when I would ride bicycle in the sinuous roads in Burla, when I would take walks in the campus in IIIT... There was some magic in the bright orange light and the heat of the 4 o'clock Sun... Felt nostalgic and awesome ! 

And when I returned and rested on my workspace, I felt as if the muscles of my legs had turned into hundreds of pistons moving wildly here and there.. It was not painful, but funny :) 

Just happy about the afternoon and the Sun, here is my flying kiss to the Sun for making my day :)

The quarreling couple

I have been in constant dilemma over writing about this incident. I feel guilty for writing about some people's personal lives. But, I fail to take it easy. It forces me to think, worry and analyze. Now, I have finally decided to write it down. 

A few days  back, I was walking back to work after lunch. I saw this Indian couple walking on the street talking loudly in Hindi. Their Hindi conversation attracted my attention bringing a smile to hear an Indian language here in the foreign land. As I am about to divert into my way, I notice that the guy starts running suddenly. He starts running onto the road. At first I think, they are having fun. But soon I realise they are having argument about something. The girl is shouting loudly to stop. The guy does not listen, he jumps onto road. I get scared, not for the guy who just jumped on to the road, but for the girl. You will know why in a while. The road was empty. There was a  signal few meters away. It was red and the vehicles were still waiting for it to turn green. If the guy had real intentions of acting crazy and crossing the road in a bout of anger, he could have easily done it. It was safe. But he did not. He ran for two more steps and then looked back. I smiled, "Coward!". Then I looked at the girl, she sighed in relief. Then I looked back at the guy. He looked back, first with fear and then with a strange arrogance. He walked back with chest wide and full of attitude. I remember him warning, "Don't do this to me again!". I thought, "Common! Don't act smart now!". Then he walked back to the girl, they walked in opposite direction while  continuing their quarrel. I just wished I could hug the girl and say, "Girl, you do not have to deal with this. He needs to grow.  You deserve better."

This all happened in less than a minute. As I walked back cursing them for spoiling my afternoon, many things popped into my mind, and stayed for long time.

We as Indians are cautious about public display of affection. We hesitate to  hold hands. Kissing in public space is taboo. We are awkward to talk about sex. Why? Because this is our Indian culture. This is how we are. These acts are supposed to be done in private. I do not want to debate if these are right or wrong.  I want to say what I felt at that moment. I remembered all the couples whom I had seen hugging, kissing, smooching on the streets of Boston. When I had encountered them during my initial days in USA, I was awkward, not knowing how to react. But at this moment, those acts seemed divine to me. I mean it, they seemed divine. It was sad to realise that while we are taught that showing affection is supposed to be intimate and done privately (I am not opposing it), we are not told to show our negative emotions privately. If PDA is western culture, is fighting and making scene in public Indian culture? Why don't we feel ashamed of it? Why are not we cautious about it? Someone may counter-argue saying I am generalizing it. No, I am not generalizing it. Look around yourself. Look how people in our families and personal sphere act. Look how are we on streets. Look at our elders and their interaction among themselves. While they shy away from showing affection, there is no hesitation on showing resentment. If expressing affection is supposed to be done in private, then showing anger and resentment should also be done in private. How many are doing it? How many are even aware of it? 

By pointing at the guy's behaviour, am I blaming the guy? Am I blaming all men? No. While I was witnessing this on that day, similar incident might be happening somewhere else where the girl might be behaving madly. However, I want all of us to introspect, both young generation and our parent generation. I don't know if anyone sees it or not, to me the guy was manipulating the girl. I don't know if he was doing so deliberately or not. I felt pity for the guy. He was insecure. Had he not been, he would not act like a maniac. He was scared since he did not have courage to accomplish what he set for initially. He was doing it just to grab attention of the girl. He was also egoistic and afraid to lose control to the girl. That's why as he returned, he made sure that he made it look like he returned only because the girl was begging to return, and by doing so he was doing a favour to her. I don't know if the girl was able to understand that or not. If not, I sincerely wish she understands it. Such manipulative and abusive behaviour is uncalled for. It is disgusting to think that we educated, financially stable (atleast not poor) people are being like this. I can go on and on about such behaviour I have seen and heard of among young people in close circle as well through stories of others' personal lives. I see the confusion, frustration, insecurity everywhere and it saddens me. As if, everyone is deeply insecure and is dumping on the immediate outlet they can get. What is going wrong? I am not talking about poor, uneducated people who are struggling with their life. It would have been understandable in that case. But we are middle class or upper class people with enough financial stability to lead a secure life. We are educated enough to decide right to wrong. We are from a so-called stable society. Then where does it go wrong? 

While our generation is struggling with this, I want us to to take it seriously, to take ourselves seriously, learn to be responsible for our actions, and how we treat others, especially the ones close to us. Our action can be the cause of insecurity for another person. While our social structure is going through lot of parallel transitions, it is essential and urgent for us to put a check on such behaviour. While being a part of the changing society, it is our job to watch out for such abusive behaviour in ourselves and people close to us. I can not emphasize enough the urgency of this situation.

Despite all this philosophy, I would like to think most of our young generation as a victim of such abusive behaviour. I want to blame our parent generation for this. While our elders easily point to us for getting westernized and losing our culture and ethics, I blame them for passing on to us the skewed view of Indian culture. Kids are watching you constantly. You are model for them. They know when you love each other, they know when you respect each other,  they know when you abuse, they know when you get abused and keep mum, they know when you haul swear words, they know your struggles, they know when you bow to social pressure and make your family a second priority, they know when you discriminate between your daughters and sons, they know when you treat your sons as future bread-earners and nothing else, they know when you treat your parents as burdens, they know when what others say matters more to you than the priorities of your loved ones, they know when you criticize them in front of others, they know when you hit and abuse them in the name of discipline. They experience it every moment. They learn from you, your good, your bad. They imbibe all of this subconsciously, even if they do not know or are unable to express in words. They take whatever their mind is capable of. They build their conscience with these experiences. The fact that they have such skewed and confused opinion about good and bad is because of you. Because you did not pass on this message clearly to them. Because you did not know them in first place. It makes me laugh and sad at the same time when people justify their wrong behaviour saying my parents did so, so will I. 

I feel stressed as I write it, but no more guilty about writing what I witnessed. As I conclude, I want to say, it is urgent. Treat it is as an epidemic and deal with it immediately. Otherwise, we would soon choke ourselves in the name of culture and implode. Act now before it is too late and the term "Indian culture and values" is left as a mere myth.

Come, sit on me! ... I dare you! x-)

Last week's snowstorm was my first experience with snowstorm ... I managed to go out of my apartment in the evening. As I returned, I decided to take a walk around my block just to experience how does it feel to be in the middle of a snowstorm. I crossed the workers shoveling the snow off the road and railway track, tractors spitting snow onto heaps, people rushing through the slippery snow, a group of students playing in the snow at the Krentzman Quadrangle... I was excited to see, touch and feel the shiny, white, puffy and light snow, gathered into heaps on the grounds and beside the roads.... They were pervasive, they got deposited anywhere they wanted to ... Look at the chairs on the streets! Until autumn, they were meant for sitting... Now they are full of white snow-cushions... cunningly inviting you to sit on them... They looked so funny... What if I just went and sat there ! :P They, indeed, were putting a dare on the passers-by and must be having a good time :)

The Mexican lady and my Woow moment

It was 18th of January, 2015. A Sunday afternoon. I joined the Urban Sketcher Boston's meetup at Prudential Tower in Boston.  It was my first time in the meetup. Although the meetup was scheduled to be from 2PM to 4PM, I decided to stay back and finish my sketch. As I was sitting and trying to finish my work in the bustling cafeteria, an old lady came to sit on the nearby table. She was flamboyantly dressed... with a copper sulphate blue colored long flowy gown, a metallic belt that was intricately designed, and a furry coat. Even with eccentric clothing of American people around, she looked little out-of-place. I took a moment to notice her and went back to my work. But that would not happen. She insisted to shift my table to make space for her cart. I did that courteously and tried to continue my sketch. Then, she came close to me and started saying something. It took me a while to know that she was not speaking English.  I tried telling her that I do not understand her by using signs. She did not appear baffled, ashamed, or confused. She was confident, unaffected by the fact that she is in a place where people do not understand her. Then she indicated that she needed my help in unbuttoning her belt, which she could not. I happily did that for her. But she would not go. She was standing there, pretty close to me by American standards, adjusting her cloth. I became nervous and told to myself, "If she does not move away in another minute, I am going to get up, pack my stuff and run!". But then she moved away, found a chair for herself and sat down. I sighed with relief...

Then a waitress came to her and talked to her for sometime. The waitress looked Mexican, so I guessed, may be this lady is from Mexico and that waitress is her daughter. As the old lady enjoyed her food, I took my time to complete my sketch. I finished my work around 5 PM and got up to pack up. Then I signalled her that I am going to leave, and asked her where is she from, and said that I can only speak English.... atleast that's what I was trying to express ... then she said lot of things, of which I could understand the word "Mexico". Then I waved my hand to say bye... She gave a big smile and blew a flying kiss for me before waving her hands again!

That... was my woow moment,  that I took with me for the rest of the evening :)