New Jersey Teen’s Charity Brings Light to Rural India

This summer, while some kids were playing video games or cooling off at the beach, one East Brunswick, New Jersey, teen spent his time raising money to light up the lives of others half a world away.

Suchir Karmarkar, 14, launched the New Jersey-based non-profit initiativeLightUpIndia last September to bring solar-powered lamp kits to households with school-going children in rural India that lack electricity.

So far he has raised more than $2500, in part through candy, water and soda sales at Little League games and Indian cultural events. Friends and family members who heard about his project have also donated, he said.

At a cost of $80, the solar kit comes with a solar-powered lamp, a solar candle and a cable that connects the lamp to a solar panel installed on the roof of the house. The sun charges the panel and powers the lamp for up to five hours, Suchir explained, noting that it even works on cloudy days.

“It’s much more convenient and safer than a kerosene lamp, which could be hazardous to operate. It lasts much longer as well,” he said.

Through research, the young Indian American teen learned that more than 275 million people in India are without electricity and nearly 100 million more are affected by extremely unreliable access, according to the International Energy Agency. By some estimates, 100 million school children do not have access to dependable electricity or face severe power shortages at home.

Last April, Suchir’s mother, Manisha, took time off from her job as an analyst to accompany her son to the western Indian state of Maharashtra to purchase and install the first kits. With help from Suchir’s grandfather and uncle, a social worker was hired to locate needy families in nearby villages to receive the kits.

Each morning, Suchir and his mother rose before dawn to beat the sweltering afternoon heat and set out for their destination. Even Manisha, who grew up in the nearby city of Akola, was shocked by the poverty they encountered—two parents living with four or five children in one-room houses made of tin.

“It was 110 degrees there, and in that hot weather they live without electricity. And once it gets dark, it’s completely dark. I can’t tell you how bad it was,” Manisha said.

In seven days, Suchir was able to provide solar kits to 25 families in 15 villages.

“When I showed them how the solar kit charged and I hit the button, the light switched on and their faces were immediately blanketed with smiles,” he recalled, noting that some people shed tears and others saluted his grandfather for such a useful gift from his grandson.

“They were really happy, and it makes me feel better that these people have something to do their work with,” Suchir added.

Lata Phadke, Suchir’s language teacher at Morganville Marathi Shala, said she isn’t surprised by Suchir’s efforts.

“I saw him at Marathi functions keeping busy at his stall collecting money,” Phadke recalled. “He was selling goodies to children. I teased him about eating the goodies by himself and giving them free to his friends. But his sincere response came that ‘Lata auntie, I cannot eat the candies or distribute it. I have to keep the records and the profits go to charity.’ He knew his responsibility.”

The idea for LightUpIndia was initially sparked during a trip to Suchir’s grandparents’ home in Akola, India. One day, Suchir’s local childhood playmate, Bunty, came home crying because he had received a bad grade on a test.

When Suchir discovered the poor grade was because the power outage the night before had prevented Bunty from studying, he felt bad. “It made me sad that kids in India have to live without things we in the U.S. take for granted,” he said during a recent interview. That day, with his parents’ help and using his own pocket money, Suchir scraped together the funds to purchase a solar lamp kit for Bunty’s family. During the trip home from India, he began thinking of ways to raise money to give solar lamp kits to other families without electricity.

But candy sales took Suchir only so far; he knew he needed to get word out about his charity faster and to more people. Last February, with help from a tech-savvy family member, his Web site LightUpIndia.net was born. A full-color brochure soon followed.

This fall Suchir, a 10th grader at East Brunswick High School, plans to ramp up his efforts by participating in fundraising activities with the local Pizza Hut and Barnes and Noble stores. He has already begun a letter-writing campaign to Key Clubs at high schools across the U.S., inviting members to get involved with his charity, and he applied for grant money.

Suchir said his goal is to raise at least $5,000 this year. A second trip to India during his upcoming spring break is already in the works. “I hope to give more students solar-powered lamps to help them do their daily work without having to suffer in the darkness,” he said.

“In some respects, Suchir is like a bull dog,” said Christopher Stier, who mentored Suchir in an after-school program at Churchill Junior High School in East Brunswick. “When he gets his teeth into a project—even his homework—he doesn’t like to be distracted until he has completed the task.”

An honor student who excels in math, Suchir counts pizza, the New York Yankee and anything weather-related among his greatest loves. On weekends, he tutors kids in math and reading with the Teen Buddy program at the public library, and he volunteers at the Marathi shala.

Suchir’s father Vikram, a risk management professional, said he and Manisha are pleased to see values of compassion and selflessness they instilled in Suchir and his brother Suvel, 12, demonstrated for a worthwhile cause.

“We both were born and brought up in India and have experienced these power outages first-hand,” he explained. “Now there is a solution available and we are fortunate enough to be in a position to help out others who are going through this.”

For more information or to donate, visit the Web site atwww.LightUpIndia.net.

Summer Love

There comes a time in every woman’s life when she has to play second banana to someone else. For me, it happens each June, when my husband rekindles a romance with his summer love.  

Truth be told, his infatuation doesn't surprise me. Her sweetness is legendary. Her succulent, saffron-colored flesh has toppled empires and brought princes and poets to their knees. How could a normal, red-blooded man not succumb to her wiles?

I guess it could be worse. After all, it’s not like my husband sneaks around, meeting her for dalliances in seedy orchards or grocers of ill repute. No, he courts her right out in the open for the entire world to see! He even invites me along on some of their rendezvous.  Normally I don’t mind, as I enjoy her company too. But sometimes when I see them together, I can’t help but wish he would look at me the same way he looks at her.

Sure, I knew what I was getting into before our marriage.  Friends and family tried to warn me, but I thought I could make him forget about her. Boy, was I naive! Going forward, I will admonish any woman about to marry an Indian man to proceed with caution and to listen to one who has learned the hard way.

Brides-to-be, heed my words:

“Nothing comes between a man and his mango!”

Here is my recipe for Mango Ras. It’s best when topped with ridiculous amounts of ghee (clarified butter).

4-6 ripe mangoes

1 tablespoon sugar (optional if mangoes are not sweet enough)

Method:

1. Wash the mangoes and dry them.

2. Roll the mangoes between your hands to release the juices.

3. Skin and cut the mango into diced pieces, discard the stone.

4. Place diced mango pieces in a food processor.

5. Puree the mango.

6. Add sugar only if the mangoes are not sweet enough.

7. Mix thoroughly and transfer to a serving dish.

8. Chill and serve with plain puris or chapattis.

Sugar & Spice=A Happy Life

One of the many customs surrounding a Marathi wedding is the kelvan – a meal organized for the engaged couple. This feast can be given either by the bride or the groom’s parents or by friends of the family. Yesterday I had the pleasure of attending a kelvan thrown by my mother-in-law for some dear friends whose son will be married next month. Of course, as with any gathering that involves my mother-in-law, if you leave hungry it’s your own fault!

At a traditional Marathi kelvan, the bride and groom are seated first and take their meal on silver plates called thalis, circled with flower garlands or powdered rangoli designs.  The meal features five sweet dishes, each served in a small silver bowl placed in a semi-circle on the thali. (This presumably is to wish the couple a life filled with sweetness.)

My mother-in-law also prepared a variety of vegetable bhajis and rice dishes, including one called masala bhat in which she used a green vegetable called tondli, which resembles a gherkin or small cucumber. As she prepared the dish, she explained that she uses tondli only for auspicious occasions and religious ceremonies. For an ordinary meal, cauliflower, potatoes or peas can be substituted.

Here is my mother-in-law's recipe for masala bhat, which literally translates to ‘spicy rice’. Look for tondli (pictured below) at your local Indian grocer.

Masala Bhat (serves 8-10)

2-½ cups basmati rice, washed

4 T oil

8 cloves

5 cardamom pods

2 dried red chiles
1 spoon asafoetida
2 spoons turmeric

12-15 fresh kadhi leaves

4 dried tamal leaves

12-15 tondli, sliced lengthwise

1 red bell pepper, sliced 

salt

½ cup cashews

2 heaping spoons garam masala

2 heaping spoons chhya masala

1-½ spoons red chile powder

1/4 cup grated coconut

1/4 cup chopped cilantro

2 T sugar

2 T yogurt

Heat oil. Stir fry leaves and spices. Add vegetables and continue to stir fry on medium heat. Add masalas, red chile and salt to taste. Cover and cook about 8 minutes. Add coconut and cilantro. Add uncooked rice.  Stir well. Add sugar and yogurt. Stir-fry 3 minutes. Turn off heat and continue to stir-fry about 2-3 minutes. Put mixture in rice cooker. Add 5½-cup water.  Cover and cook according to manufacturer’s directions. 

Lentil Stew

I'll never forget my first experience with lentils. It was the week before Thanksgiving. I was in my fourth-grade classroom, pasting dozens of the little buggers onto a cardboard cutout of my pre-pubescent hand. My mom still has my split-pea turkey (and I’ll bet yours does too!)

When I met my husband I learned that, for many Indian families, lentils are a way of life. They smash them and mash them; they boil them and blast them. They even grind them and roll them into crepes! But cardboard turkeys not-withstanding, my experience with lentils has been, shall we say, rocky.

Recently, while trying to prepare a quick vegetable stew for dinner, I discovered that not all lentils are created equal.

Carrots-check; Celery-check; Lentils-check. After adding the ingredients, I popped the lid on the pot and simmered the stew for the required 45 minutes. Then I served it up to my hungry hubby, waiting for that look of ecstasy that often overtakes him when eating a delicious meal.

Instead I saw a look of pure horror.

It was a look I had seen before; It's the one where he is weighing whether he should tell me the god-awful truth about my food.......or just grin and bear it.

With trepidation, I raised the spoon to my mouth, wondering what could possibly have gone wrong. After all, I had made this stew a half dozen times to rave reviews. With the first bite, I instantly knew there was something different about this stew.

The second bite almost cracked one of my fillings.

Like a lion protecting its young from a herd of charging elephants, I snatched my startled husband's bowl from him mid-bite.

“I think the lentils are just a little undercooked,” I explained as I dumped the contents of our bowls back into the pot.  “I’m gonna cook them for about 10 minutes longer.”

Three hours (and a trip to Taco Bell) later, the stew was done.  And so was my husband, who had fallen asleep on the couch an hour earlier.  So much for quick-cooking stews!

Somewhere during this debacle it occurred to me to check the package of the lentils I had used. And therein I discovered my mistake: Instead of using the red lentils the recipe calls for, I had grabbed a package of yellow split peas!

I turned to my facebook friends yet again and found out that yellow split peas require soaking overnight and take several hours to cook. One friend joked that I should use my pressure cooker (and if you don’t understand why she was joking, see my April 15 post “Under Pressure”).

My facebook status garnered 16 comments and some great advice. But when I tried to serve the stew to my hubby the next night, he balked.

“I can’t eat something that has been so thoroughly dissected by our friends on facebook,” he protested. “Let’s go out instead.”

Fortunately, all was not lost. Last night my husband’s cousin Sudhanwa came over and insisted I serve the much-maligned lentil stew for dinner. He brilliantly suggested that I give the stew a face-lift by garnishing it with chopped sweet onion, cilantro and slivers of chile-lime almonds.  

If my hubby knew it was the original stew from Tuesday night, he wisely chose to keep his pie-hole zipped. (And I think I even caught a glimmer of that ecstasy I had been hoping for!)

Here is my recipe for Lentil-Barley Stew (adapted from Taste of Home magazine). It only makes 2-3 servings so double if necessary:

1 medium carrot, chopped
1 small onion, chopped
1 celery rib, chopped
1 tsp minced fresh gingerroot
1-2 serrano chilies, minced (optional)
1 garlic clove, finely minced
1 TBSP olive oil
1/4 cup dried red lentils, rinsed and sorted
1/4 cup pearl barley
1 can (15 oz) diced tomatoes
1 can (15 oz) vegetable broth
1/2 tsp seasoning Italian seasoning (or curry powder if you want Indian flavors)
1/4 cup fresh basil, chopped
additional water as needed while cooking

• In a large saucepan, saute the carrot, onion and celery in oil until crisp-tender. Add ginger, garlic and chile and cook 2 minutes longer. Add lentils and barley; cook for 3 minutes, stirring occasionally.
• Stir in the tomatoes, broth and seasonings. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and simmer for 40-45 minutes or until lentils and barley are tender. Add more water as it cooks if you like your stew more soupy. Add basil, if desired, the last few minutes of cooking. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Under Pressure

When I got married five years ago, there were three simple things my Indian mother-in-law suggested I learn how to do:

1. Make chai
2. Prepare an easy “go-to” dish, like poha
3. Use a pressure cooker

Having mastered the first two, I am left to grapple with #3, a befuddling contraption that clearly harbors passive aggressive tendencies. How can such an innocuous-looking little pot be so diabolically evil?

I had high hopes when I brought my pressure cooker home from India. Buoyed by my cousin’s promises of culinary nirvana, I boldly envisioned the tasty three-course meals I would set before my hubby each night:

Creamy lentils the color of a Mumbai sunset; perfectly cooked basmati rice; rainbow-hued vegetables, expertly seasoned and steamed until crisp-tender.

I imagined him taking his first bite, a look of ecstasy spreading across his face as he exclaims “Honey, these are the most delicious lentils I’ve ever tasted...even better than my mom’s!”

Choirs would sing. The heavens would part.  Out of nowhere, friends and family would appear in our dining room, moving in unison to the Bollywood dance hit “Om Shanti Om”.

Hey, a girl can dream, right?

Now here’s what really happened:

I opened the box containing my new pressure cooker, spread the agglomeration of parts on my kitchen counter, and threw the owner’s manual in the drawer with about 500 others collecting dust.  

Then I phoned my mother-in-law for help.

I guess I should have realized that using a pressure cooker is harder than it looks when Aai refused to give me instructions over the phone.

“Just wait.....I will show you when I come,” she insisted.

True to her word, she appeared at our doorstep the following week armed with a package of yellow lentils and a potful of advice. Glued to her elbow, I made mental notes as she worked.

“Listen for the whistle,” she explained as she snapped the lid of the cooker shut.  “When it blasts three times, it’s done.”

In what seemed like mere seconds, the lentils were cooked to golden perfection, ready to be seasoned and whipped into aamati, the soup-like staple of every Maharashtrian meal.

What could be easier? I thought. A week later I was ready to try it on my own. There was only one problem: those mental notes I made the week before had evaporated as quickly as the steam in my cooker!

Was it 1 cup lentils to 2 cups water....or the other way around? High heat or low? Five minute cool-down....or longer? The only thing I could remember was to listen for the three whistles, which came quickly and close together and left ugly brown steam marks across the lid of my cooker.

(At this point I should mention that I did consult my owner’s manual, which was about as useful as lighting a match to bake a cake.)

Still clueless, I decided to wait 10 minutes before prying open the lid. When I did.....

KABOOM!!!

Weeks later, I am still cleaning up gluey remnants (now the color of Mumbai swamp water) that have pasted themselves to unexpected spots in my kitchen.

Still I remained unfazed.  After all, I’ve cooked Thanksgiving dinner for 25 and prepared homemade tamales so authentic you’d swear they came from a Guadalajara kitchen. And not to brag, but my pav bhaji once brought a visiting swami to tears.

I wasn’t about to let a stinking stainless steel pot take me down without a fight!

So when it happened again - this time with cauliflower (way less offensive than lentils) - I appealed to my Facebook friends for help. And considering the diversity of my friend list, I wasn’t surprised when they returned some remarkably constructive advice.

The first comment came from Kenton, a 33-year-old IT tech, who opined that maybe I didn’t let the pot cool down long enough.

Shipra, a researcher originally from Delhi, explained that I must ensure all the steam is out of the pot by slightly lifting the whistle with a serving spoon.

And Wayne, an L.A. photographer, added that I should cook on low heat and run cold water over the lid of the cooker to speed up the cooling process.

But the best comment came from my friend Bonnie, who nailed it when she said that exploding pressure cookers are “just one more reason not to cook.”

Bonnie, I’m not ready to throw in the towel on my pressure cooker just yet. But it’s nice to know I have an easy “go-to” dish like poha in my repertoire, just in case.  And when all else fails, there’s a great Indian restaurant just minutes from our house. The food is tasty and the prices are reasonable.

And to be totally honest, the thought of my family bhangra dancing around my dining room every night was pretty overwhelming!

The Karmalized Kaku in India - Wedding Fever

Subodh, Appa Kaka and Sejal

In a land abounding with paradox, my discomfort seemed only fitting. I was 10,000 miles from home; my legs were cramping, my nose was burning, and the sickly stench of cow dung rose in waves from beneath my six yards of silk.

It was the happiest day of my life.

Renewing our marriage vows in India was never part of the plan. My husband and I were there to attend his cousin’s wedding in the city of Pune and to visit his large extended family. We had been in India nearly three weeks and, as a first-time visitor, I had weathered the culture shock of Indian toilets, cold baths and warm Coke surprisingly well.

I had committed most of the requisite cultural faux pas, including eating with my left hand and calling my husband’s uncle “auntie” by mistake. I had namaskared to every cow in Baroda (and a few surprised bulls as well!)

Our trip was coming to an end when, in a burst of bravado, I announced to several aunties that someday I would like to return to India and remarry my husband in a Hindu ceremony.

A word to the wise: be careful what you say in India between November and February, when wedding fever sweeps the country. When my husband’s famously eccentric uncle, Appa Kaka, heard my wish, he exclaimed: 

“Why wait?  You’re in India now . . . if you have three hours to spare, we can make it happen!”

Why wait indeed? With that, my Hindu wedding began to take shape.

Will the Karmalized Kaku get the wedding of her dreams? Watch for the upcoming novel, "Becoming Sejal."

Meditation Calms a Stressful Life

Visualize the lift....Breathe in….Breathe out...Grip the bar…Lift.

It’s a routine that powerlifter Huy Nhan has performed hundreds of times while preparing to deadlift 575 pounds. He incorporated the visualization and deep breathing techniques into his routine three years ago to improve his concentration, with surprising results.

“I’ve gotten a lot stronger from it,” said Nhan, 24, a kinesiology strength and conditioning major. “I feel a lot healthier from it and my grades are actually a lot better as well.”

The 5’10″, 250 pound Nhan, who is training for his first power competition, uses diaphragmatic breathing and imagery meditation prior to each lift. He also meditates throughout the day to stay focused and calm.

He is in good company. Long-considered the providence of mantra-chanting monks and mystics, meditation is now being practiced by more Americans than ever before as a path to physical and mental well-being.

According to a survey by the National Center for Complementary and Alternative Medicine, nearly 13 percent of adults practice deep breathing exercises, more than nine percent meditate and six percent practice yoga. The findings were reported in a 2009 article by the American Medical Association.

Kinesiology major Justin Vidal, 21, began meditating more than a year ago as an alternative to taking pain medications. Herniated discs in his lower spine had left Vidal with sciatica and chronic back and leg pain. Doctors prescribed multiple pain medications but the pain was still so severe that some days he was barely able to crawl to the bathroom.

“At first I was just so angry,” Vidal recalled. “Why me? Why do I have this pain? Why do I have to take all these pills? Why am I stuck in this position?”

That’s when Vidal began searching for an alternative way of life. At the suggestion of a friend, Vidal began to meditate. Initially, all he could do was try to relax in the most comfortable position possible.

Eventually, he started listening to music meditation CDs that used varied bell tones for each chakra – or energy field – in the body. This practice directs the blood flow to specific parts of the body, which then receive more oxygen and other nutrients.

Over time, Vidal learned how to bypass his pain through meditation.Soon he began to notice subtle changes: his digestion improved, he was sleeping better, his mind was calmer. And there was an added benefit: his test-taking skills improved.

“Meditation can definitely bring your stress level down to the point that when you get in (the classroom), you can be relaxed,” Vidal said.

Both Vidal and powerlifter Nhan are students in Cal State Fullerton kinesiology professor Patrick Freeman’s Hatha yoga classes. A yoga-devotee since age 12, Freeman stresses a multi-disciplined approach to yoga and meditation. His classes are part lecture, part activity, and teach proper diet, breathing and positive thinking in addition to yoga postures.

“A lot of people in the west think of yoga as what you do at 24 Hour Fitness or at the rec center,” Freeman said. But to an advanced yogi, that’s “basically kindergarten.”

“It’s still very good; it’s good for the health of our body and, for some people, that’s all they want out of yoga and that’s fine,” Freeman said. “The cool thing about yoga is that you can take from it whatever you want…It’s not a religion; it’s a system of scientific principles designed to still the restless mind.”

Freeman said humans think more than 60,000 thoughts a day – that’s about a thought every 2.4 seconds. Yoga and meditation teach techniques like relaxation and concentration to slow down those thoughts.

"And they’re very simple (techniques),” Freeman said. “But the power lies in the practice. As we practice more and more it gets easier.”

Meditation is not a magic cure-all, he said. But practiced properly and regularly, it can bring relief from myriad of health problems, including digestive problems, sleep disorders and attention-deficit disorder.

And, for stressed-out college students, meditation may be just what the doctor ordered.

“The way the world is moving, we’re inundated with information overload and people are under a lot of stress,” Freeman said. “Meditation can bring them that calmness they’re looking for; that peace of mind.”