Stay tuned; good days are coming.

Any day that begins with bright sunshine, a cloudless blue sky, a new coral colored polka dot blouse and a hot cup of coffee has to be good, right?

After the gloomy rain we had earlier this week, such spring weather was sorely needed. Even more so today because it was the final prospective student open house of the year. Mom, Papa and Neeraj came to learn all about biomedical engineering. I ran around campus selling the j-school to admitted students and covering a lecture from an alum who's carrying on the legacy of one of our most famous alums. (That story will run in Monday's Diamondback, so I'll keep you in suspense until then.)

Back at work I got the interview set up for my AJR story (keeping lips sealed on that one too) and ran off to cover yet another event for yet another paper. After developing the story with my main source, my mood was almost back to the over-the-moon status I walked out feeling almost as good as I did over the winter. I shoulda known there was a bigger reason why.

It turns out Romenesko picked up my Mark Bowden post.

Ever since NewsVision, I've been incrementally repackaging myself as a journalist. I signed up for Twitter, fixed my resume, figured out how to create my own Web site, and most important, stepped up the writing.

Just as a heads up, the new Web site won't debut until after graduation. I'm going to step up activity on this blog, so stay tuned! There's lots to share.

Nani Ma

Summer afternoons in the kitchen with Grandma may be a familiar memory for some, but I experienced it for the first time today. Peeling potatoes, learning new recipes and hearing about my mother's childhood antics, all while practicing my Hindi - could a granddaughter ask for anything more? Yesterday I sat at Nani Ma's feet while she retold her experience fleeing Rawalpindi after the India-Pakistan Partition; the horrors she witnessed and the uncertainty that came with ever step. I'm continually amazed at how a woman her age so emphatically tells stories, how her piecemeal English and Susan Auntie's very limited Hindi don't stand in the way of their thoroughly enjoying each other's company. Yes, Nani Ma repeats stories sometimes and she can't walk very far without tiring, but her mind is agile as ever, and I suppose that's one of the most important things one could hope for at her stage in life.

I'm so glad that she has this opportunity to stay in Luxembourg for a few months, to take a break from the behr bahr, the hustle and bustle that cloaks New Delhi. Sitting around the kitchen table our first day here, Nani Ma first noticed the silence, the shanti, that pervades this corner of the world. The air is cool and the street's only interruption seems to the be the occasional car gliding quietly out of the neighborhood - a far cry from the humid, dusty Delhi air and the puttering, honking cars that fill the gulliya. This morning Susan Auntie said after less than a week Nani Ma seems to be looking less and less like the tired, frail woman that emerged from Brussels' airport. I only wish I had more than three days to spend reminiscing and learning from her.

More than I expected, this vacation is turning out to be just the break a student about to enter her last year of college needs. The past two weeks have been enjoyable in opposite ways - hectic, bhangra-filled wedding days in London followed by long conversation and lazing in the kitchen or along Luxembourg's countryside. While I didn't always know or understand what was going on at the wedding, I was far enough removed from it that I didn't have much responsibility, but was still in the thick of it all. The best place to be if you ask me. And now, here in Luxembourg, I'm surrounded by everything I like about European life - foreign languages, quiet countryside, and people who wear skirts and heels to go grocery shopping. But most importantly, I've got political commentary with Susan auntie, griping about school with Sara, joking around with Mamu, and Nani Ma's squeak of a laugh when she tells us she mistook Sara's hot pink slippers for some special Luxembourgish rabbit.

Merry Christmas 2007

You know you've outgrown Christmas when "Santa" has to drag you out of bed to open presents.

Every year my brother and I get our sleeping bags and camp out in our parents room for the night. This year Neeraj wanted to watch a movie, so we camped out downstairs instead. Early this morning I hear some rustling and then there's Mom telling us to get up. Both Neeraj and I turn around and say we'll get up later.

"But Santa spent so much time at the mall and wrapping all the gifts," said Mom. Guilt-inducing as her voice was, Mom's tone brought to mind the image of an innocent child, head cocked sideways and eyes full of Christmas cheer. Oh how manipulative you mothers are. So droopy-eyed and drowsy (it was, after all, only 8:30 in the morning), Neeraj and I stumbled out of bed. By 9 a.m. (After I'd finally coaxed Neeraj out of my bed, which he dove into after heading upstairs to brush his teeth) we gathered around the tree and proceeded with the festivities.

It was a pretty good year, gift-wise. Three sweaters, a shirt, two pairs of earrings and a much-needed traveling cosmetic kit. And the best part - the day itself has gone well. Everyone has gotten along and we chatted with Nani Ma in India and Mamu's family in Luxembourg. Overall, it's been a good day and hopefully this good cheer will continue on into our New York trip. Speaking of which, Papa announced we're not taking a computer (!!) with us, so Overachiever will probably be silent for the next few days.

On that note, I bid you Merry Christmas and leave you with this letter to the editor appearing in today's Post:

I've had it with the fuss over whether to say "Happy Holidays" or "Merry Christmas." For 30 years, my mother phoned me every Dec. 25 at 7 a.m. to say "Merry Christmas!" I'd reply, "Mom, we're Jewish," to which she would say, "I know, but I love the holidays. And what's wrong with peace on Earth and goodwill toward men?" Mom is gone, but her words seem more meaningful than ever.

TRACY LEVERTON

Vienna

Real Thanksgiving (well, sort of)

While many of you are probably settling in around the dinner table, about to dig into that freshly roasted turkey, my table is clear and the leftovers are already packed and sitting in the fridge.

My uncle from Luxembourg was in the U.S. for a week on business and he swung by and spent yesterday here. Since his flight home is today, we had our Thanksgiving dinner last night. It's kind of nice actually, having the feast early, because it gives the illusion of having more time off. Instead of this whole day being eaten up with Thanksgiving prep, I've got the four full days to chill out.

It's always nice seeing Mamu - this time we talked about my upcoming semester abroad and traveling around Europe. He, Susan Auntie and Sara visited Madrid last month, and while he couldn't say much about the food (he's not the first) he said the city is great and that I'm going to enjoy it a lot. Yesterday evening we took a walk around the neighborhood and as we marveled at all the fall leaves, we talked about vacations and traveling. Since he's already seen so much of Europe, a lot of what he sees now just looks the same, he said. The best thing to do, he said, is to not over-plan and sometimes the best thing to do is just sit at a cafe, sipping your beer and taking in the city. Often times, it's those little experiences that you remember most about a trip, he said. And I totally believe that; after all, the first thing that comes to mind from my trip to Paris last spring was when Supraja and I wandered through the Jewish quarter eating delicious falafel.

It's sometimes funny to think that Mamu and Mom are siblings; he's so laid-back and carefree and Mom is such a worrier. Then again I'm a heck of a lot crazier than Neeraj. Oh well, there's family for you.

Anyways, after we got back from our walk, Mamu and I scoured the website of Europe's discount airline Ryan Air and found where all I could go from Madrid. The more and more I talk about next semester, the more exciting it gets. As we headed to the airport to drop Mamu off, Mom was talking about how January has got to be the most depressing month, since all the fun of the holidays is gone. I realized that my January will be a bit more exciting than most. It's kind of intimidating but still oh-so-exciting, especially because I know that if anything happens, well, Luxembourg is only a four hour flight away.

But I must not get ahead of myself. While Thanksgiving may be over, there's still the holiday season to enjoy (not to mention all those leftovers :) So even though the only chicken (turkeys are too big to cook), cranberry sauce and stuffing I'm getting tonight is the reheated version, I hope you all are enjoying yours! Happy Thanksgiving!

Bonding with the Bro

Yesterday Neeraj called and asked if I could edit his English narrative for him. I agreed and what was supposed to be me just going over his essay turned into a two-hour long bonding session. Well, maybe that's a bit of an overstatement, but it's the first time in a long time we've had a really nice conversation.

Neeraj is not as talkative as I am, and we don't really talk much over the phone, though I attribute that more to his just being a guy than being shy. I mean, Papa and I always have really great conversations in person, but it's just not the same over the phone. And lately Neeraj has been so swamped with work that we never really have time to chill because he's always got some kind of project or essay or test to prepare for.

So we were going over his narrative and he told me how bad it was because he'd written the rough draft late at night, but as I read it, I thought it was actually quite good. I remember when we were younger, I used to make up stories and type them up on the computer (The typing part was more exciting to me than the actual story creation). After seeing me do it, he used to do the same thing, and would come up with stories and poems and type them up in funky fonts. Ah the childhood memories. And even though he eventually lost interest in creative writing, I've read some of his essays for school and he still does have writing talent.

But anyways, as we were going over his draft, he was telling me about school and how crazy it all is, what with the 5 AP classes he's taking this year. It was nice because generally when I ask him about school he doesn't want to talk about it because he's like - that's all I do all week, I need a break from school.

I really don't know how he does it all. I told him that there's no way I could have handled all the work he has when I was his age. Hell, I can hardly handle all the work I have right now. I don't know if it's just me being old, but I really don't think I got as much work in high school as he's getting right now. I admire him for taking it all on though - 5 APs is something I never attempted in my four years. And while sometimes it bother me that he's that classic guy who keeps most of his emotions hidden, I guess that could come in handy sometimes, especially when dealing with this much work. I mean, yes he complains, but he complains in a different way than I do. His style is more quiet, more subdued. He'll complain about school, but it's more of a wistful, shrug of the shoulders complaining. Me, I'll get really heated and angry and frustrated and panicky about all the work I have to do. Sometimes my complaining will end up in a rant about how getting a B on a paper will somehow result in me being a complete and total failure at life. (I promise, it only gets that far some of the time). Neeraj, he doesn't get that worked up, not at all. We both get our work done, but it seems like he accepts it and does it, while there are times that I simply fume my way through it.

Perfect Paneer

After being up since 5:20 this morning, an hour and a half earlier than usual, the only thing that was getting me through 11:00 Spanish was the prospect of digging into Mom's paneer.

I got back to the apartment, warmed everything up and dug into what was quite possibly the best meal I have ever had.

It was just shahi paneer that Mom literally whipped up in 10 minutes while I was eating breakfast yesterday, but that first bite was almost heavenly. The tangy tomato puree combined with the thick cream was almost more than I could handle. As I devoured the cushy pillows of paneer with the flaky roti, I thought to myself, screw all my lofty life goals. If I can make a dish that makes someone as happy as this paneer has made me, my life would be complete.

Especially after talking to Mom last night, the prospect of staying home isn't as inconceivable to me. I remember this one conversation I had with Mom freshman year where she told me how she was once offered this position at Marriott and that if she had taken it, today she would probably be something like executive V.P of housekeeping or something really high up and awesome. But, she turned down the position - and you know the reason why? Because I was born.

When she told me that I was like...what!!! You turned down this amazing job just because of me? Why the heck did you do that! I'm not worth that! And she just replied, when you have kids, everything changes. And of course I couldn't understand that then, but now I'm starting to get what she means. I've noticed that a lot of times, powerful and influential women (Condoleezza Rice and Oprah Winfrey come to mind) also aren't married and don't have kids. And that's one thing I know I can't give up. Yes, I'm about as driven and as competitive as it gets, but when it comes down to making that choice, I know I'm going with the family.

Then again, I'm also the one that when people tell me that eventually I'll actually have to make that choice, I pretend I can't hear what they're saying because I've already made everything else in life work, so why should this one be any different? The saying 'you can't have your cake and eat it too' means nothing to me because I've been eating the cake all my life, and don't plan on stopping any time soon.

Except now because I've got to go to class. Adios!

P.S. I'll have to tell you about this morning's conversation with Spain when I get back.

Taking My Own Advice

It's funny how yesterday I wrote that worrying is a waste of time because freaking out is all I've done today. And of course everything ended up working out perfectly fine and I was left wondering how much more I could accomplish if I put all my effort that goes into worrying into something productive.

Last night, while writing up my business story, I realized I left my passport at school, and would have to go back in the morning to get it before going to the embassy to get my visa. Of course, because I love to complicate my life, I had also been debating between getting the regular student visa or the extended one, since I might be staying abroad to intern, but I'm haven't heard from the place I applied, so I'm not really sure at all. So I proceeded to wake Papa up not once, but twice at about 1 a.m. kind of freaking out about whether I had all the correct documents or not. He told me to go to bed and that we would just go to the embassy and get the facts from them.

I went to bed feeling only a little better, but exhaustion eventually got the better of me and I fell asleep fairly quickly given how much was on my mind.

In the morning, Mom frantically cooked some more food for me to take back, since plans had changed and I wouldn't be stopping at home before heading back to school after the visa stuff. We went to school, I grabbed my passport and we headed into the city. Once there, we found the Spanish embassy, I took a deep breath, and we walked in. The friendly guard pointed me toward the visa desk, which was completely empty, and the woman asked what she could do. I told her I wanted a student visa, she took my papers, looked through them briefly and told me to come back in seven weeks.

I was a little confused. The last time I went to get a visa, which was this summer for our India trip, it was a day-long ordeal. After I got over my initial shock at this efficiency, I asked her about the extended visa. She said that would involve a letter from school saying I was taking classes. Well then, I thought, that settles it. I don't have a letter nor do I plan on taking more classes, so I'm just going to apply for the regular student visa and that's that.

Papa and I thanked her and headed out the embassy, thanking the guard on the way out. I looked at my watch. Three minutes. That's how long we spent inside the embassy. And that was counting the time it took for me to ask and her to answer my question. Really? I'd spent last night and this morning freaking out about everything and this was all it took? I mean, I'm definitely not complaining, but still. That was it?

Anyways, Papa and I had time to kill, so we wandered around the city, conversing amiably. The weather was perfect, a little cloudy so the sun wasn't in our eyes, and not-too-warm temperatures with the perfect slow cool breeze. It was too early for lunch, so we strolled for about an hour or so before heading to this Vietnamese cafe for lunch.

For lunch I had a shrimp and lemongrass soup and a little lunch box with rice, salad, a spring roll and grilled chicken with peanut sauce. The soup was so good, sweet and light with a tangy kick. The box was really cute and everything tasted amazing. Papa had shrimp in garlic sauce which was also really good.

After lunch we decided to head back, since I (unfortunately) had work waiting for me. We had a nice ride back, chatting about politics and careers and life in general. I really like when we have those conversations. Sometimes it's just so easy to talk to Papa about all that stuff, and every once in a while he says something that just completely makes sense. He'll bring up a point that I never thought about, and suddenly things just click.

Fast forward a couple of hours, when I was on the phone with Mom, who talked to Nani Ma recently. Mom started telling me how much she misses Nani Ma and how she feels so bad sometimes because Nani Ma is all the way in India and we're all the way over here. Nani Ma waits for years and years for us to come, and then when we finally do visit it's only for a couple of weeks and we never really get to spend quality time with her. Mom went on about how much she looks forward to me visiting from college, and then when I do come, the time passes by so quickly and it's time for me to go right back, and how I'm going to be abroad next semester and pretty soon Neeraj is going to be going to college and how it must be exponentially difficult for Nani Ma because the distance is so much greater. Needless to say, I think at that moment it hit Mom that her children are growing up, and let's just say the phone call ended with a lot of Kleenex.

Even though it's not like growing up is my fault, I still felt guilty. I felt the exact same way when I left for college and Neeraj was at home all alone. I mean, for a brother and sister I think we were pretty close, and for us suddenly not to be seeing each other 24/7 was kind of weird. But like Mom said, at least I'm just a 45 minute drive away. I honestly can't imagine what it would be like being 10,000 miles away from Mom and the rest of my family, not being able to call any time I wanted or just hop on the Metro and be home in an hour.

Anyways, I don't really know what point I was trying to get at, just that there's enough meaningful change to worry about in life that you'd better not sweat the small stuff too.

A Day in the Life of Mom

Going to India seems to have unintentionally knocked some responsibility into my head. I don't know if it was seeing my two younger cousins dutifully helping out at the drop of a hat or what, but I know my Mom's happy about it. She's been after me for a while now to learn how to cook properly, and I've finally become genuinely receptive to doing so. I tried my hand at making some gobi pakoras (fried cauliflower appetizers) to take to Sumegha's house for dinner last night, and judging by the empty container I brought home, my first attempt seems to have turned out quite well.

But it's not just the cooking bug that's bitten me. Those who know me know I'm not the neatest, most organized person in the world. Going to college has only made me worse in terms of organization. Ever since I moved back in May my bedroom floor has resembled a minefield of paper piles. Every morning I wake up, take a look at the piles and say to myself, today's the day I'm going to clean all this up. But alas, there are just so many books to be read and so manyTV shows to be watched that cleaning just seems to slip off the list. Last night it finally got to me though, and after trying unsuccessfully for an hour to fall asleep, I got up and resolutely tackled the disaster. The more I cleaned the more I realized that I simply have way too much stuff. Old textbooks, folders full of notes, random fliers, half-filled notebooks; it was a never-ending flow of paper. After assembling quite a formidable pile of paper to be recycled, I tried going back to bed, but I was too wound up worrying about my intense case of pack-rat syndrome and what I could possibly do to get rid of all the unnecessary stuff I have, to fall asleep. So I got back up and resumed my cleaning. Sometime around 6ish, when it really started getting light outside, I realized I probably wouldn't be going to sleep.

Around 7 I had morning chai with my parents, read the paper and went on a walk with my mom. After the morning news update, I rolled up my sleeves and prepared to clean my bathroom. Now I know, doing chores like these, for most people my age, isn't a big deal, but I'll admit, I haven't been the most helpful of children. I do the work, but only after being reminded multiple times. That's why this time, even though Mom didn't say anything, I'm sure she's glad that I seem to have finally grasped the notion of helping out around the house. Although she may attribute my actions more to the fact that Sareena is coming over to watch a movie. Which I admit, it a big reason why I've gone on this cleaning spree, but hey, at least I'm doing the work, right?

Anyways, I had lunch around noon and then settled in for what I thought was going to be an hour long nap. Yeah, that definitely turned into a three hour nap, but hey, that's what summer's all about. But shortly it'll be time to relax and chill with an old friend, so the day isn't all work and no play.