Happy Independence Day India and Pakistan!

Photo credit: REUTERS/Amit Dave (INDIA)

Today is the 60th anniversary of India's Independence Day and yesterday was Pakistan's Independence Day (query: if they were divided the same day, shouldn't they share the same independence day? Or did one country decide to celebrate on a different day so they didn't share a day?) And the last of my series of stories finally published.

I'm pretty happy with how everything turned out. It being a 60th anniversary and probably one of the few times we've done a story, I could've just done anniversary journalism and written a story about how they are celebrating. Instead we decided to look at the Indian and Pakistani community.

Sunday's Story (South Asians Gaining Clout) looked at the South Asian community and its gaining political power, as well as how life has changed in NJ since many immigrants came in the 70s.

Tuesday's story (India-Pakistan enmity evaporates in U.S. melting pot) is about how Indians and Pakistanis are friends and neighbors in the U.S., despite the political strife of their home countries.

Wednesday was about Wicket cool: South Asian transplants find fellowship in cricket. That was the one meant to have the video, but it didn't work out, as you read. Too bad.

Anyway, I hope you will read them and let me know what you think, because they mean a lot to me.

Inothernews, I gained enough hours this weekend that I have tomorrow off and essentially today off. I just am working two hours today, and from home at that. It's very nice. I am able to watch a movie while waiting for calls.

Sensory memories

Several days in the past weeks have been hot and humid (humidity just goes with living on an island!) Whenever I cross a certain street on my drive back from work at night, just for a moment I am not driving back to Long Beach Island, but feel like I am in another place. Specifically, India.

The scent of the salt, seawater and humidity in the night air reminds me so much of Bombay, where I lived for 4 months my senior year of college. It smells like a million trips to India with my family, where the Bombay airport was our first welcome back, the hot, stuffy, smelly air feeling too close after the climate controlled airplane, though there we were limited to a few feet radius.

The smell always annoyed me and I'd go back with stories of how I hated that Bombay was our first welcome back and that it was foreigner's/first-time visitor's initial impression of India. I was generally pretty cross after spending close to 24 hours on a plane.

But these last few days its been making me feel sort of homesick. I was born and raised in Minnesota, not in India, but as I grow older I appreciate our visits to my parent's home country even more. I'm sure I am not alone in this sentiment, from being the picky American girl who turned up her nose at the thick, unpasteurized milk and the dust that lay everywhere, to an adult who sort of longs for visits.

Of course, visits back are never relaxing. People always think "oh she is taking two weeks off from work for vacation" but it is not vacation, it is a trip. Its traveling for so long then meeting hundreds of people, running from place to place...very little time to relax.

Anyway, its interesting how senses can bring back memories...and for some reason the sensory memories that I remember most are always ones that bring me back to India: climbing stairs in my high school reminding me of the narrow staircase to my grandma's house. Sweeping my floor reminding me of the sound of the stiff brushes used to clean the floors, daily. A car horn reminding me of the crowded streets. And the thick, heavy night air reminding me of car rides from the airport, after spending 24 hours on a plane and 24 months away.

Diversity

This weekend I am heading to New Brunswick for my book club meeting and then to the city to meet with some friends. Since Friday is my day off and I'll already be in Central/North Jersey, I think I'm going to drop by Edison, N.J.

People here always recommend Edison to me as an Indian spot and seem surprised that I already know about it. Are you kidding? Growing up in Minnesota, I knew all about Edison and Jackson Heights (and Devon Ave. in Chicago, but that was closer to home) and all these other "mini-Indias." It seemed mythical and awesome to me at the same time. New Jersey! Crawling with desis! Indian publications in mainstream media! Indian advertisements in train stations!

What I never realized is how big of a state this small state is. I wrote earlier about the subsections of New Jersey and how distinct they are from one another. Part of that is that the majority of this huge Indian population is clustered around major metropolitan areas, like North/Central Jersey (aka NYC) or Cherry Hill (aka Philadelphia). In a sense, I am even more cut-off from the Indian population than I was in Minnesota.

I've always been a little behind on movies/music/styles from Indian, especially compared to my East Coast cousins, but without occasionally overhearing the Hindi satellite my grandpa watches at home or going to Desi parties where they are spinning the latest music and someone just came back from the "motherland," I am REALLY behind on things.

All of this is because I watched a movie yesterday which, up until a few weeks ago, i thought was fairly new. When I mentioned it to my (Dobbs Ferry-dwelling) aunt, she was like "oh that's not new, we saw it in the theater months ago."

oops.

I might try to do a better job of keeping up, but I also don't necessarily care that much about the music/movie/style aspect. I guess that is the only aspect that is lacking because I am keeping up on the more pertinent (and intellectual) issues via blogs that I frequently read.

But damn, I love me some Bollywood music.