Involuntary Reaction ( Part 3 of 7)

It was a potentially exciting time in the history of Jamna Temple. The Village of Springton had finally granted permission for some extensive renovations. They were to add a new wing for pooja, a recreation room and two racquetball courts. This was the culmination of a two year battle with local authorities and neighbors who believed the expansion would increase traffic and noise in a quiet residential area.

Deepa had been urging the temple board to forge strong ties with their neighbors and had mentioned strong media connections she had made through her career but no one else agreed. They believed they were legally entitled to expand and preferred to steam-roll over the neighbor’s concerns with their team of experts.

The new wing was in place. Why did they need to keep having open houses and barbecues for their neigbors? The board wanted to focus on planning Diwali parties and pooja sessions.

“Leave it to the lawyers, Deepa Beti,” would be the standard response every time she suggested something.

Deepa was losing patience and beginning to question her involvement in the temple yet again.

The opening ceremony was approaching. The board wanted their chief priest to cut the ribbon. But Deepa believed the local mayor or another local politician should be invited to do the honors instead. But yet again, the board members saw no need for this.

Deepa was having trouble sleeping at night thinking about the disparity in their attitudes. She had to speak to the chairman of the board, Dr Sideshwar Sharma. He was rarely available but she would demand a meeting and make him understand.

Dr Sharma was the type who gladly stood up when ladies walked in the room and bought flowers for his wife weekly. A die-hard gentleman with quaint old-fashioned manners. But he did not want to stay in the dark ages, either. He had always been most receptive to Deepa’s innovative ideas. But Deepa knew that nothing as big as this renovation had ever come up. She had a feeling that the board saw her as meddling in something that was outside of her jurisdiction. She giggled. All this lawyer talk!

The next day, Deepa decided she would not be intimidated and marched right into Dr Sharma’s small office at the temple. She was startled when she saw the board treasurer, Dr Vikram Kumar sitting by his side but continued regardless. She would re-iterate the need for inviting a local dignitary to their opening ceremony. But just as she opened her mouth, she perceived a tiny little smile forming on Dr Sharma’s lips. It was a miniscule hint of condescension that temporarily flustered the young woman.

But Dr Sharma did listen to her ideas patiently and Deepa thought she was finally making progress. He then replied:
“ This is all very well but I don’t think you really understand the issues clearly. It is a lot more complicated than that.”

Deepa was not expecting this. Is that what they really thought of her? What about those years of voluntary service? Was she simply a glorified skivvy? Deepa’s voice became shrill with indignation and hot little unwelcome tears began to form in her eyes.

Had Deepa been blind? Had the board always been like this? Were her friends right about her being delusional? But Dr Sharma was not even paying attention. His eyes were shining and Dr Kumar had an almost smug look on his face.They clearly had some news:

“Now I wanted to tell you something wonderful” began Dr Sharma, not realizing how much pain he had caused Deepa.

“You are always wanting help with your volunteer projects. Vikram here, his grandson, Ganesh, is moving to area. He has been SO active in his local temple. So much experience he has. You will meet him at the next board meeting. He wants to help us. Vikky- tell Deepa....”


The two old men sang young Ganesh’s praises so comprehensively that Deepa had to stop nursing her bruised ego in order to entertain an even more horrible thought.

"I hope old Sharma’s not trying to set me up with this guy"

So she began to pay attention a little closer in case she found herself on an arranged date with him one day in the near future. She was not pleased at the prospect. Ganesh indeed? The god of success. Why? Just because he was in the medical profession?

_________________________

At the next board meeting, Dr Kumar was smiling broadly. The other board members were excited too. They had heard about how well Ganesh had turned out. He started droning on in an irritatingly nasal voice about his many accomplishments in the field of teen psychiatry. The elders were beaming with pride.

Here was the next generation to make all their own immigrant struggles in the Sixties and Seventies worthwhile. They would not be laughed at for their accent, their clothes or hairstyle.

The prodigal generation cavalry was here.

Ganesh did not have a trace of an Indian accent but his voice grated on Deepas’s nerves. He was now detailing how successful he had been as the vice president of the largest Hindu temple in San Francisco. Then he began talking about what he thought was a matter of great urgency. The temple ground- breaking ceremony.

"Uncles!" He exclaimed. "I'm not sure if you realize what a big PR opportunity this is. We need to ask the Mayor of Springbrook or the Fire Chief to the inauguration, don't you think? If we want to be an organization of the future, we need to forge strong ties with our neighbors.

Deepa heard the sound of collective male pats on backs.

Yet he had uttered her own words of a few days ago, almost verbatim.

Deepa was not an uncle, nor a physician.

She realized she needed to find some other way to occupy her time.

She remembered a scene in "Father of the Bride" when Steve Martin's daughter tells him of her imminent marriage plans. He is so unprepared for this news that he looks back at his daughter and sees a toddler in a high chair, waiting for more goldfish crackers- instead of a sophisticated twenty something woman.

Deepa realized that Sharma and his cronies appreciated the help she gave, her drive and her enthusiasm. But every time she opened her mouth- even when she was talking about legal issues or her visions for the expansion of the temple, all they heard was:

" I made masala dosas with spicy potatoes for lunch”.