Irene whispers

The news was bombarded with stories of the wreckage created by Irene south of New York City as it waited the onset of one of the worst hurricanes in the last 26 years. I would not be surprised if Facebook servers were overloaded by the number of people commenting on their drenched walls of their experiences with the hurricane.

After having a few glasses of ‘The best Chardonnay’ that one of the many wine-making families in ‘the Napa valley had to offer’, I decided to take a walk in the rain to see what really was in store for tomorrow. It was just past midnight and though Irene had not yet ascended onto our town yet, she had most definitely sent her infantry (in the form of incessant rain and a strong wind) to ‘check out’ the area before herself making an appearance. My wife was asleep, so was my 10 month old blissfully unaware that tomorrow he would mostly witness the first thunder and lightning of his life. I wore a rain jacket and my track pants, buried my phone (I can’t move out anywhere without it) deep in my pocket, ensured that I took the house keys with me (didn’t wanna wake up the wife when I returned, did I), and ‘elevated’ myself down to the ground level.

The first thing that struck me was that our parking lot, which is usually overparked during normal days, had many vacant spaces. I figured soon that people did not want to park under the trees. Not everyone had a beat up Audi like I did and waited for disaster to strike so that they could cash in the insurance money after the car got totaled. I walked up the road ignoring the ‘here-goes-a-lunatic’ stares that some car drivers gave me. The wind was pretty strong, though not anywhere close to the 75mph that weather.com had predicted for tomorrow. The CB Richard Elllis advertisement board outside their office had already unhinged on one side and was tottering dangerously on the other. If this had been Final Destination-V, the wind would have ripped apart the board which would have flown towards unsuspecting me and sliced my head off neatly. The audience would have enjoyed the IMAX-3D version of the scene for sure!

The gutters were working overtime to drain the increased volumes of water and were doing a pretty good job of it so far. I only hoped that they did not get tired by the time Her Highness appeared. Further down the road, there were a group of people walking – the only people on foot that I spotted in the entire half hour trip – towards me. They were drunk and I was sure that they would not let me pass without making a remark. As we got closer to each other, one of them stared at me and shouted ‘Irene’ in a guttural tone. I instantly raised both my arms to my sides and charged him imitating a ghost. That seemed to be enough to calm the guy down. I did not have to do anything more with him or his friends.

When I started, I was hoping to hit one of the downtown bars and have a drink before heading back home, but the only other weekend evening that I have seen America be ‘inside’ is on the eve of thanksgiving a few years back. This time, downtown Stamford was deserted even more. As I made a quick U-turn and headed back home, I witnessed a guy kiss his girl on the porch, another run towards his apartment, and a group partying in the balcony. The wind was more intensity and so was the rain. Dunkin was open, always dependable, like Mama Bear. I soon reached home jogging on the slope going down towards my apartment. The headiness caused by the wine was amplified by the rains, the wind, and the downward slope. But I didn’t have to mind much when crossing the road due to obvious reasons.

I had a strong urge to write something once I reached home and what better topic than the one doing the rounds in North East America now. I sat down with my laptop, and more of ‘Napa Valley’s finest.’ If it is relatively safe to go out when Irene arrives tomorrow, I surely will, and will write another piece of the actual event. Meanwhile, if you are in the path of the storm, be sensible and follow the checklist items that no doubt you have come across many times by now from various sources. The one that I last read was to fill up one's bathtub in case water ran out!

The wine is kicking in well and proper. I'd better go and eat and get some sleep. Bye!

Fasting from a foreign land

Many people ask me why I am fasting just because Anna Hazare is fasting in India. The answer is both philosophical and practical. In a philosophical way, I for one, cannot be at ease knowing that someone is suffering on m behalf, that someone is going through a  lot of hardship so the future of my family sees as little hardship as possible. The man is fighting for a great cause. I believe in his cause. I also believe that he, at 74, is fasting for 14 days, for you and for me and for every Indian on earth. I cannot carry the burden of that knowledge and eat good food daily. Tomorrow when something positive comes out of this saga, I wont be able to get out on to the streets grinning ear to ear and enjoying the fruits of his hard work, knowing that I never as much as raised a finger to help him.

Now for those who ask how is me fasting tantamount to raising a finger to help the man, the practical explanation follows. Such bold uprisings if not backed by mass, would fail. The government of India is a powerful entity. Especially when it is on the back foot like how the Congress now is. Ever seen how boxers simply flail their arms in despair when they are cornered? That is what a government will do when given a couple of hard punches and when its back touches the ropes. The only weapon that we the people can launch, is mass support - by way of public gatherings, peaceful marches etc. Now, such demonstrations would help very little when done in a foreign country unless the word spreads around back to India. So a group of us are participating not only in marches and demonstrations in the USA and other countries, but also directly participating in the fast itself. The news of such actions go back to India through the media and when they get reported out, serve as an additional couple of jabs to the government, if not a knock-out punch. Also, and perhaps more importantly, Anna's place is a very lonely place. He might be surrounded with thousands of supporters, but very few are participating in the fast with him. True, he is a veteran of more than a dozen fasts, but people supporting him directly by sharing this activity will ease a little of the pain. That is how, in my eyes at least, the fasts undertaken by people in Chennai, Bangalore, and other places in India are going to help him, by adding that extra bit of energy to his spirit.

Now, this all might look more than a tad indirect of a cause and effect relationship, but I just wrote what came to my mind, rather than meticulously try to construct arguments to justify fasting. Bottom-line is I believe in it. I will fast till evening, once in three days, till Anna Hazare does. And you are welcome to join too! Power to the movement! Darkness to corruption!