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opment that is sustainable equitable and just aid was founded in 1991 while kuchimanchi was working on his ph d in physics at the university of maryland one world report s arpana sanjay recently caught up with kuchimanchi he was in seattle to help volunteers at aid s year old local chapter raise funds for the upcoming holiday season arpana began by asking kuchimanchi to explain the mission of his group aid interviewer arpana sanjay kbcs owr archives labels aid arpana sanjay kbcs one world report ravi kuchimanchi posted by arpana sanjay at 8 26 pm 1 comments saturday november 01 2008 dried tears the grief in my heart had bubbled forth an unstoppable swell had broken loose you had caught the warm wetness in your palm and wiped away fears and the world began to melt and fade for each tear that fell from my eyes there was another that fell from your heart but now my eyes are all dried up for each word that falls from your careless lips i lose a tear from my heart which feels like solid rock time changes everything everyone changes with time tears are like dishwater impure soiled like waste like your broken promises like my unborn children all meaningless memories old passions and desires that wont let me live that wont let me die aug 2005 a long time back posted by arpana sanjay at 2 15 pm 0 comments thursday october 30 2008 bliss i listened to a lot of music as a kid probably more than any other kid i knew and a wider variety than most adults as well i d look forward to having the house to myself and would be super happy if my parents had to go somewhere without me with mom out of the door there was no limit to how loud the music could get and we had no neighbors for at least a quarter of a mile heaven dancing to the loud music on my terrace when it was raining the music so loud that nothing could get thru no door bells and no phone rings and getting into trouble with my parents over how careless i was on dad s old lp player and tape deck i d listen to ravi shankar s music festival of india i ve been looking for a cd tchaikovsky trying to dance like a swan in swan lake imagining myself to be odette reading my dad s handwritten liner notes in red ink on old yellowing pieces of paper romantic notions running in my head along with swan lake and sleeping beauty the ost for the love story would have me singing the theme song along it was practice since we d learnt that song at school and then there was the rolling stones dire straits clapton chapman even clayderman lalgudi jayaraman ananda shankar chris isaak the beegees nirvana denver smokie vivaldi lionel richie the who chitti babu pink floyd mc hammer whitney houston on and on and on when the bigger louder speakers were off limits i used a tape recorder in my room it had a dial that could alter the tempo of the track and i used it for my dance practices at nights i d plug in my headphones and listen till late at night sometimes dancing in the dark i was in love with my music and my world and you get the drift in mysore i had no source i went around scrounging in the few music stores looking for something and then spending all my pocket money on tapes there was this chap called ravi who had a library and he d generously make mix tapes for me eventually i left sleep mysore and in college i discovered ghazals and hindi movie music techno the gypsy kings electronica stuff that kids were listening to in cities much bigger than sleepy mysore i started making my own mix tapes it was music that connected my now husband and me for the first time the ost for top gun and then it just stopped the music the dance everything the long years in between were so bare i did not know what happened anymore in the world of music and now it seems silly that i did not turn to the one thing that always gave me comfort and focus but all s well that ends well i have found my bliss again the past 4 5 years have been so wonderful because i found my music again and the past 2 years have been simply awesome coz now i can share my music with anyone who cares for it who d have thunk i d be on radio certainly not me this is my idea of heaven on earth posted by arpana sanjay at 10 19 am 0 comments monday october 27 2008 diwali memories by now the firecrackers would have started going off irritatingly invasive at 5 00 in the morning but irresistible at 6 00 still in pajamas snacking on chakli with many summons to go have my head oiled please bathe please pretty please wear your new reshme langa eat breakfast and leave the fruit alone behave yourself sigh i now think i could have put up with any amount of torture for a chance at the loudest most obnoxious firecrackers i was one of the younger kids among nearly 50 plus cousins in my grandfather s old house young but certainly the boldest the older cousins who knew what the latest firecrackers in the market were and the price tag they came at always pushed me forward to go ask my grandfather for pataki money after refusing a sufficient number of times i would relent and then go up to him ajja would be sitting on his ancient chair in his office just off of the large verandah with the red and green floor reading the newspaper and i d demand money he d say what more money to blow up in smoke i just gave some to your xyz brother last evening of course i d stand my ground and of course i walked away with more than anyone ever could one time he gave me 800 rupees this was way back in 1987 when 800 rupees was a lot of money for a bunch of kids i now think ajja thought i was special i was the only one that refused to be afraid of him and the only one who fooled around with him but my favorite part of diwali was not the firecrackers nor the food nor the snacks and definitely not the endless poojas it was when the old wrinkled ayyannar a priest came by the oldest daughters in law of the household would spread out a thick black woolen blanket on the floor of the verandah the blanket was supposedly ancient meant to represent the migration of my ancestors from the area near badami in karnataka further south they were fleeing persecution by the invading bahamani kingdom that occupied the entire area the migration supposedly brought a change in trade and the people started rearing livestock instead of farming and trading this made since they were constantly moving hence the kuruba or shepherding community going back to the blanket on the floor of the verandah ancient heirlooms would then be placed carefully on the blanket very old silver gold brass copper jewellery utensils implements weapons all kinds of interesting things that probably belong in a museum would be placed and the most precious of all a hand made leather bound book the ayyannar s main job was to ensure that records were updated he d open the family book then his own book and make identical entries of all the births and deaths in the family and extended family in both the books the family book along with the heirlooms and blanket would go back into a large red and green vault which could only be accessed by ajja then one year we decided to go be with my mother s family diwali is not really celebrated in conservative christian families in south india my aunt would receive gifts of firecrackers at work which would be saved till christmas and when the whole city enjoyed a day off of christmas day the christian families would come out with guns blazing and take revenge on the diwali noise makers no amount of pleading would get us firecrackers for diwali and so diwali was simply no fun with my other family then there was that one diwali that we spent in mysore on the roof top of some friends a bonfire plenty of beer that i pour charmingly for guests but could not drink because i was only 13 or 14 i got distracted by the bhoo chakra and i forgot i had a lit pencil in my hand i burnt my fingers for the first time that night i can never forget the first diwali i spent alone in chennai i would ride through the neighborhoods at night just to see the oil lamps i still feel tight in my chest when i think of that time the loneliness the fireworks created in me was dispelled only by shutting it out with chris isaak on my walkman i remember that first diwali i spent in bangalore watching my neighbor from my balcony as he lit fireworks he eventually ran up my stairs and dragged me down and i gave in to the addictive smell of gunpowder and lit up a rocket after years and then a few years later this same neighbor and i were celebrating diwali again only this time we went to hosur where we bought a big sack full of firecrackers i made a fresh rangoli every night at our door and decorated it with oil lamps i made all kinds of snacks and sweets our friends were our family at that time and most of them were away celebrating with their families in different towns but they cut short their vacation to be with us and we lit most of those fireworks a day after diwali it s impossible to recreate the innocence or joy of the days gone by as i ve grown older i ve also grown more aware that things are never going to be the same traditions are diluted to a mere formality it s now left to me to carry the memories and carry on my own brand of traditions i am all grown up i guess but i still miss the fireworks diwali 2008 sammamish 6 00 am posted by arpana sanjay at 7 53 am 3 comments jars of memories your smile warmed the cold forgotten attic where sealed within an old nameless earthen jar i slept with untainted dreams and innocent affections at your touch the old pot crumbled i came alive spilling soft kisses rare and precious fragments of passion transposed into images of euphoric bliss i reached out to you but you were gone without a trace gone but in your place there stood a mirror on which was scribbled this unfinished poem bangalore january 2006 posted by arpana sanjay at 6 17 am 0 comments saturday october 25 2008 i remember i remember the first time you held me captive with eyes brown deep i remember that first time you held me the fragrance of love that bloomed at your throat after all this time i still remember the first time you loved me the first time you killed me oct 2007 i let everything sit around for about a year what can i say posted by arpana sanjay at 10 14 pm 0 comments friday october 24 2008 thank god for bumps and bolts yesterday i bumped my head so hard i thought it bled i sat down rubbing a promising bulge grimacing griping cursing for good reason i thought of you striking and as sharp as the blow if you were here now at this instant you would have cooed and soothed fretting and clucking your tears would have drenched my wound attempting to wash away the pain while i sniff at the throb in vain trying to childishly seem old er you would have tried to comfort silently quietly in your own strong way and i would have brushed aside your fingers your concern your love callously annoyed with myself ashamed to be hurting embarrassed to be weak so self consumed would i be that i would not have noticed your eyes smarting or your lip trembling your fingers curling or your head turning serves me right that yesterday when i bumped my head you were not there that you might be spared from my wrath my shame my impatience i wipe away tears of regret remembering not to be as i am prone to be when someday i bump my head again and you rush to comfort me i now understand ma my folly your patience my ways and your ways i pray that someday they will be the same your way and mine 28 sep 2007 seattle after an accident at the ikea posted by arpana sanjay at 10 51 pm 1 comments friday october 03 2008 lost found i am bursting with excitement i just had a long long conversation with my best friend from my pu college days and its been nearly 12 years since i last spoke with her saw her or heard anything about her my heart is so full so full its nice to know that you are remembered fondly that you are not the only one who remembers people or events and that there is someone who reciprocates with the same love and fondness most of my memories of my college are the many different ways i made a fool out of myself the many places and ways i stood out like a sore thumb and the many many things i did that were plain stupid even inapproriate we ve all grown up now and the childish things of the past dont really matter i know that but the embarrassment lingers on i always thought i was a serious person but i heard my best friend tell me that i laughed and giggled a lot i also learnt that i had a huge crush on some guy and that everyone knew about it breakthru finally this does not embarrass me one bit its kinda sweet actually so when i hear from an old friend and she confirms that i was not such a fool after all and that there were a few bright spots it makes my heart glad makes me a little more sure of myself like i always say go back to the people of your childhood and have them remind you of who you were before life had a crack at you they will remind you of what you lost and they will help you find it again i feel peaceful posted by arpana sanjay at 12 36 pm 1 comments monday september 01 2008 first prize really i just spent a good part of the evening helping a cousin with an essay for her college admissions its been such a long time since i wrote an actual essay won so many competitions in school and then one huge competition in college there was a disctrict level inter collegiate festival in ooty i took part in the essay writing contest it had some random political theme and i remember writing furiously and being very tired at the end of the competition i won the first prize for my essay i was thrilled at my success but then the festival location was far away from my college and hostel really far and they made the announcements at the end of the festival but then they said i must go back 2 weeks later to pick up my certificate and prize some of the others who won prizes went by or arranged for their certificates to be picked up but for some reason i never went to get them i cant remember what happened i do remember thinking that it did not matter silly huh and look at me now truly believing that every small success is worth celebrating posted by arpana sanjay at 10 12 pm 1 comments saturday august 30 2008 random cribs are memoirs exaggerated glories of childhood do people truly have such idyllic childhoods as described in some books and movies i just finished reading madhur jaffrey s climbing the mango trees a memoir of a childhood in india it was such a wonderful nostalgic read but nearly everything seemed perfect i am sure she had problems in her childhood but the worst thing that madhur mentions are typical teenage issues and some things that came up during the india pak partition she was certainly privileged the childhood she decribes is a far cry from what my grandparents had she is about 5 years younger than my grandma so i do have something to compare her experiences with i must say i felt a little envious when i read about how she had so ...