vingt six

Its term two in B-school and I just turned 26 and all this together has one contemplating existential-type things such as - what am I doing with my life? is it all worth it? why am I single, 26 and in B-school...you get the drift..

Contrary to expectations, being freshly single at B-school is not a very good thing. Firstly, being freshly single requires you to go through a sort of relationship rehab where you crawl into your corner and purge yourself of all the baggage and B-school by its very nature of habitual networking doesn't let you do that. Secondly, considering the average age at my school is 29, the pool of single men is extremeeeely limited. (as an aside, notice how I'm analyzing my single status?? Its all those cases I tell you!)

But jokes aside..its painful having to take all the school stress, internship stress and the stress of beating yourself up for a failed relationship. All of which leaves me wondering what my achievement in life is. I'm ALONE at 26 and thats the painful truth and its scary.

Being in a relationship spoils you. The "you" is obliterated and you start thinking like a team. Your experiences become "our" experiences and your decision becomes "our" decision. You stop thinking independently and every thought is shared. That's what hurts when you are single again. You have no one to turn to, no one to talk to and no one to whom you can vent out to without being judged. Its like being a unable to walk without crutches and falling.

Relationships may end but the emotional baggage doesn't. Till you purge it you can never really leave it behind and thats why all I want to do is hide and be away from the world. I want to rediscover being alone with myself again, to rediscover my own undistilled thoughts and finally come to a place where being alone is not so bad.

So till then, au revoir

Crazy, si si

This blog needs a defibrillator...considering I have to resurrect it every few months. I feel sorry for my blog considering its closest to my heart....enough sentiment already!

The upshot of things are that they are crazy and hectic and fun ..all at once. I hardly get time to breathe during the week, so considering that I'm rather happy with the way this weekend turned out. Very productive study wise but also managed to sneak in some treats in the manner of reading 2 chapters of India after Gandhi (Best book ever, you HAVE to read it), 1 episode of project runway and 2 of my favourite music albums - The miseducation of lauryn hill and lovers rock...quite good don't you think?

I know there are many of you out there applying for B-schools this season and things can get quite anxious. There are many who might be questioning the feasibility of studying in a foreign B-school. I would like to tell you that there is nothing quite like studying in an alien environment. The diversity in schools here is ginormous and you sometimes won't believe the conversations you end up having. That aside, my only advise would be to figure out your goal in life and then assess if studying in a US B-school will help you achieve that.

Last weekend was quite fun. It was campout time, where all of us grad students camped out for 36 hours for Duke Basketball tickets. The beauty of campout is that you have to stay awake the whole time because you have to make to 22 check-ins during the course of those 36 hours. If you miss a check -in you're out of the race for season tickets. I made it through campout and its something I'm most proud about. I'm tough y'all!! apart from that it was brilliant fun...all night dancing and made dashes to the check-in point. I did get tickets so it was all worth while in the end

As usual I miss home. I can't help it. There are times I feel like calling my peeps and realize that there is a time difference..thats what I miss and I feel like I have to rebuild myself here. It feels odd, it feels awkward and a lot of work but sometimes it can be fun

Legal Alien

I feel sorry that I don't update this dead space called my blog often. I started out this blog because i love to write and this blog gave me my creative outlet. My only excuse is that life has been rather tumultous the last few months and was not condusive to blogging.

The upshot of things is that I now find myself in a US B-school. Yes, its hard to imagine that I'm finally here and not playing solitaire in my cubicle in Pune, although I must confess that I already yearn for my solitaire freedom and end of month pay checks.

Adapting to a new life in a new country is not easy though and every few minutes the same thought comes back to "This is NOT india". It feels odd to be indentified by only your Passport and to be told to value your I-20 dearly and you wonder how your life came to be attached to this otherwise mundane documentation. The flip side is that little things like going to the super market turn into a big adventure although, I do miss strutting around like I own the place in "my" country.

There are so many experiences that I want to encapsulate. Going back to school feels awesome. Waking up every morning, feeling like your life is on track is the best feeling ever and I wish I could capture every minute of this experience.

I have ofcourse made notes of my experiences so far here. So if you are an aspiring US Grad student, the following is worth noting:

1. Make sure you pick a good airline to come to this country because you don't want to take 72 hours to get here and if on the flight the food trolley hits your knee and makes you scream in agony, make sure you sue the airline or ask for complimentary return tickets to india, redeemable, preferably by 2015 (Yes, take what you can get)

2. Grad student life requires you to get accustomed to an impoverished lifestyle. The sooner you realize that you cannot afford Jimmy Choos or even $20 pizza, the better your transition

3. Get ready to carry your passport everywhere - to get a bank account, to get a phone connection, to buy a car, to buy wine and even to buy ciagarettes. Ofcourse this makes you paranoid about losing your passport (God Forbid!) and don't be surprised if this becomes your favourite recurring nightmare

4. If you live in a city where there is no transport system then buying a car becomes imperative. Yes you WILL miss autos in this country and even, dare I say it, the impugnity of auto drivers

5. Buying a car is not easy because of supply and demand issues. If you live in a university town teeming with grad students but with very cars around to buy, you will find yourself checking craigslist feverishly, desperately calling potential car owners and even praying to the entire pantheon of Hindu deties to get you that chosen car. You will leap at the mention of a Honda Civic that has done 100K+ miles and then feel your heart sink when its out of your budget. Yeah get used to that heart break and again Take what you can get

6. If you have never been to one, the best part of the settling in process is that first trip to walmart. Don't for the love of god fall in love with it. It goes against our impoverished ethos. You will walk down the aisles and want to buy everything in sight. Don't buy chocolate milk or hazelnut coffee creamer or peaches or super sized Tostitos or side tables or 32 pack diet coke or a printer/caner/copier or a mini safe that you dont need. Don't Walmart. Period

7. After settling in finally, a thought might occur to you to actually visit the School. It is a good thought and should have been number one on the agenda had you not had transportation issues. You will gawk at your surroundings and wonder how you made it here. You will wonder if you are an admission mistake and that thought won't leave even when you start classes. You will however make peace with how mediocre your own accomplishments are when compared to the rest of your class

8.As a grad student in the US, Facebook updates and photo uploading will assume a great siginificance in your life. You ofcourse have to drill home the fact that you are indeed a grad student in the US. Be sure to take that camera even to class because you never know when a facebook moment will come by. As student life involves tons of partying, make sure you know the night mode settings on your camera. You don't want to take a gazillion photos and realize that not one is Facebook-able

9. As a student you will do silly things enthusiastically (which is rather alarming) like taking part in a tricycle race for instance, with your entire batch egging you on. This act will be recorded for posterity thanks to Facebook Photos, after which you'll be able to answer the question "The Biggest mistake of my life" quite honestly

10. The best part of being a grad student is the diversity that you'll encounter. You'll bump into students from every conceivable country. Don't fall prey to country stereo types. Don't for the love of God tell a Jamaican that you "Absolutely, Love Love love LOVE LURVE" Bob Marley or an italian that you "Saw the Godfather a thousand times" There is a good chance he/she will never speak to you again

11. Your accent, grammar and intonation will change and you will punctuate every sentence with "Totally" "Absolutely" and "Awesomely"( which is not even a word..) and other such attempts at fitting in

12. You will need to get used to time difference with India. You will forget that Sunday Night 7PM for you is actually Monday Morning 5:30 AM for your folks. You will get yelled at and they will ofcourse threaten to stop transferring money to you

Sigh...there are so many experiences...will definitely come up with more updates on Grad Life 101.

The thing I miss most are my loved ones. I miss the fact that they are so far away and that they can't see me in my new setting. I miss my old life which had certainty and riotous colours about it. On somedays I feel like being back in that lovely chaos,under a sun that dazzled and teeming with wonderous possibilities. Then I open my eyes and know that I'm here....

Guilty!

(Let me cheat and post a poem I wrote in college...earned me a place on the editorial board in the first year!)

Guilty!
Yes , your honour, I killed her, I killed my wife,
Quite simple really, I used her own kitchen knife,
I find that funny don’t you?,
What’s the matter? I swear its all true.
You see that knife was a present, it was given to us,
At our wedding I think, or may be it was Christmas.
I suppose you’d all want to know why,
Hold on judge, methinks that woman there, could do with a good cry.
I Had had a bad day, you see I was fired,
And she refused to make tea,,I got angry,,, guess I was a wee tired,
Anyhow, “ make it yerself” she bellowed, “you can can’t you?”
She had to die judge,by god , The woman was cuckoo!,
I drove the knife through her heart, I’m sure she suffered no pain,
Why, look you all, I know what you think, you think I’m insane!
Kind of like officer Brady, he was aghast at what I had done,
He was eating doughnuts, he really should have offered me one!
Coming back to where I was, you ought not to let me me digress,
I cleaned all the blood and gore, for I detest making a mess,
I left her on the kitchen floor, I left her lyin’ there,
Made me tea ofcourse and drank it without a care,
I then walked to the station, I had no intention of getting away,
I was too weary to run, not after such a rough day!
I told the officer, I committed a crime, told him I killed her,
But he wouldn’t believe me, “you ‘fessin to murder?”
That’s all your honour, it was just a simple row,And if you have no further questions, I’d like to step down now

Do saal baad

I don't celebrate anniversaries in general. I do remember them but I'm generally very meh about such things. But in March this year, I completed 2 years in Pune and this made me reflect on the person that I'd become. I thought about the whimsical decision that I had made in March 2007, to move out of Bangalore - My Home, Cocoon and sanctuary - after 24 years to a place where I didn't know anyone. I went back to day I arrived in Pune for the first time. With my entire life contained 2 large bags, in a comfortable but alien company guesthouse house and contemplating the future. Would I like it Here? and what if this was a bad decision? what if I had to move back to Bangalore within a month with my tail and bag between my legs? I look back at that memory and think about all my experiences here and I'm happy I made that decision to live on my own. It has helped me grow in ways that I cannot begin to articulate. Suffice to say that the before and after is clearly distinguishable

I still remember the incident that made me take the radical step of moving out of Bangalore. it was the New York incident. I had just been duped by a NY cabbie of $160 for a 30 minute ride. I couldn't believe I was capable of being duped. I, who had topped Theory of Machines 2 in a class of 100 boys no less. I remember bawling on the streets of Manhattan afterwards in humiliation, anger and frustration. I remember roaming the streets with tears streaming down, fearful of everything and wondering how I'd gotten to be this wimp. After that I resolved to toughen up and get my edge back. When a job offer from Pune, I realized that this was it. This is what I needed to become a street smart, confident person and to grow from the over protected, insular, wimp that I'd become.

It was tough at first. I didn't understand the language or the culture. I remember sitting in meetings where all present spoke in Marathi and I, the one who was responsible for the action items, looked on like I was on the sets of Dumb and Dumber - with a very big EH? written on my face. I gradually learnt to understand the language and the people, to an extent now, where I actually feel quite at home here. I have learnt so much from this experience that I feel a need to articulate a few aspects that have changed in me.

It taught me to make friends. In Bangalore, I lived in my own little insular bubble, with my won little coterie of friends and we all lived happily. I didn't feel the need to connect with other people. When I came here, I had no choice but to connect and make friends fast. I learnt to reach out to people and open myself to them. I moved out of my intellectual circle and found other utterly interesting people who didn't read The Economist (Which in my earlier avataar was the prerequisite for any friendship with me). Thankfully My job in Pune required me to work with people at all levels - From the support staff in logistics to the top management. It required me to adapt to people at every level and I found myself loving every human interaction I was having. I can actually call myself an extrovert now. I appreciate people a lot more and I'm not an intellectual snob anymore and that's a good thing.

It taught me to fix things. Yes. I have become the champion fixer. I used to freak out earlier when appliances and stuff popped. Now, I have an air of nonchalance when things break down. I stop blaming the universe for this malfunction and get around to fixing things. The TV in our apartment conked recently and I would have FREAKED out earlier considering I'm the child of the networks. But I was so hum about the whole thing. I made a few calls. Found the TV repair guy. Carted the TV to him in a rickety auto. Got the thing fixed in 2 hours (attended gym in the interim) and carted it right back, to a point where the Roomate went "You Fixed it already?? wow!!". I'm so zen these days that I didn't even throw the remote on her face then for her sheer inability to be helpful around the house. My pre-2007 self would not have shunned violence. I'll tell you that. Violence brings me to my next point...

It has made me tough. I mean tough like a pit bull. Infact when I was negotiating with a vendor once, a business head asked me to join his sales group because he thought my aggressiveness would be useful in a sales role. All though I'm still not as street smart as I want to be I know that I'm not a wimp any more. I can fend for myself in any situation.

Most of all, this experience has helped me quell the fear of the unknown in me. I'm not afraid of chasing wild whims and fancies any more. I know I have it in me to face any situation that life puts me in and I may not come out obviously triumphant, in a blaze of glory but I do know that I will have the courage to face it. For that alone, Thank You Pune

A letter to my Hero

Dear Ma,


I have always wanted to chronicle my understanding of you. Its no exaggeration to say that you have always been my Hero, my role model. But I strongly feel that understanding you will help me understand me better. So yes its for a selfish reason, but you've always been very kind towards most of my faults, so here goes:


My most enduring memory of my early years, when I was 4 or 5, was hating you for working.

I hated you for having a job and not being there to drop me to school or pack me awesome lunches. You missed my sports days and gave me the same old bread sandwich. I hated You. I couldn't understand why your work was more important than me. I hated you simply because I missed you. There was a time, in the upper kindergarten, when during a test, the parents of all the kids were present and helping their wards answer the "test". I didn't have anyone to tell me what the 5 times table looked like and was miserable. I didn't hate dad for working but I was filled with anger towards you. I envied the other kids whose mothers were omnipresent for every goddamn school event.


Then, as I began making sense of the things around me, I realized that I was privileged in a way. I got the best bicycle, the best dresses, the best birthday parties and the realization that you working helped me get the best of everything. Especially when I got put into a really posh school in standard 6 for which you and dad had to cough up a pretty big donation. You both did that without thinking twice and I found myself in the company of rich kids, wondering how I got here. I remember appreciating, for the first time, the privileges that your job afforded me.


As I immersed myself in studies and realized that I loved school, I remember the seeds of ambition taking root in me. I wanted to become somebody. I wanted to do something. I wanted to utilize me and make a difference. I remember looking at you in a different light altogether. I saw you not as a mother or as a bread winner but as an achiever. As someone who was the first woman scientist in the country to be feted by Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and all this when you were in your twenties. I remember looking at your photographs, receiving subsequent awards from other prime ministers and feeling pride swell up in me. I remember you telling me about how you work with farmers to improve their crop yields to make India self sufficient. That's when I stopped looking at the other kids with envy and felt nothing but disdain when their Stay at Home Mothers (SAHM) came to collect report cards.You were a superstar in my eyes and I didn't care that you missed all my best student award ceremonies.


When I was in college and was angst ridden as everyone, I remember you asking me what I wanted to do in life. When I replied, in a moment that only be described as “random rebellion”, that I wanted to just stay at home and marry a rich man, I remember that quiet look of exasperation on your face. You didn't chastise me for it, instead you said that if that was what utilized my talents to the best then I should by all means stay at home. That's what you taught me - to utilize my talents. To do what I was born to do. When I asked you why you work and slog your butt off, you simply said it was because you loved what you did. That thought stayed with me through college and helped me choose a job that was off the beaten path. Having found my raison d'etre, I now realize why you emphasized on me utilizing my talents to the fullest. Its the best feeling in the world isn't it? when you love what you do?

But Ma, having been in the work force for 4 years now, I also have come to appreciate the trade-offs that you've had to do to balance work and family. You were not just a working professional you were a working mother and I know now that it's probably the most difficult job in the world. It must have been tough to reject promotions that might have warranted extensive travel in favour of spending more time with your Kids. You must have been wrecked with Mommy guilt for not attending some of my school events because of some work deadline. It's at this stage in my life that I fully comprehend how tough life is for women like us who want it all - The balance between the Job and the family. The compromises demanded by such a balance is what torments us everyday. I can't begin to imagine the comprises you have had to make but today as I look out into the future, I can't help but look at you in admiration for the manner in which you succeeded in raising us and in having a super-awesome career. I only hope that I have half the character and determination you possess.

What I love about you was how dedicated you are towards your career. How you clung on to it despite going through some tough times - Like raising two small kids by yourself when Dad was on transfer for 10 years. I now understand why you just refused to quit. You were one of the first generation of women in this country to enter the work force and the onus was on you to perform and break the glass ceiling for subsequent generations. I can't begin to imagine the gender bias you must have faced because I face it too at work at this age. I have colleagues who tell me that as a woman I don't have to worry about promotions because I have a husband who'll take care of me subsequently. Yes. I can imagine the taunts you must have faced. The hard work you must have put in to get half as much credit. The unfairness of it all. I now know why it hurts you when educated women in my times opt to sit at home. I feel proud of you when I go to work because I don't have to prove my worthiness everyday and that I'm evaluated on an equal footing along with the men.

At this stage in my life, I think I understand why you are so tough and yet so fragile. You have been tempered by the times. I love you for your strength. Only you could tell me to follow my heart and go to a US school in such times when everybody is advising against it. Only you could tell me to have an incredible two years and chase a dream. I also love you for being so tender. For being annoyed at me for not calling home often. For my lack of culinary skills. I love you and admire you and I only hope I develop half the strength and courage that you posses. I desperately want to make you proud and I sure as hell will try to.

Your adoring daughter,

A

what? its 2009 already??

..and I didn't get to transition properly thanks to getting ill a million times over and a heavy dose of work. The two always come together and I'm telling you its a collusion between God and top management. Its a CONSPIRACY, I tell you!

Well the illness was bad - Gastroenteritis and so had to be hospitalized for 6 days. Well I didn't want to write about it but I want to, because it's the ultimate nightmare scenario of anybody living on their own. I realized how important it is to have a designated ICE - In Case of Emergency- person. Mine happened to be V and thank god for that. V is more than an ICE, he is Man Friday. He will drink with you on a weekday when you are depressed and arrange for things if the need arises. Infact, when I was puking for the 300th time that day, I texted V, asking him to come with me to the hospital the next morning. He called right back and blasted me for even texting when I was not well and told me he was taking me to the hospital right then.

I puked all the way to the hospital and immediately after reaching, a whole host of nurses pounced on me and ran gazzilion tests on me. Hospitals always have a prophylactic effect on me. I stopped puking in the hospital and was wondering if I should perhaps make a dash for it. I was, even embarrased for a moment before nausea hit me like crazy and felt sick to my stomach (no pun intended). They suggested I get admitted because my blood pressure was really low and just like that needles were struck and intra-venous saline was started. In that moment of clarity, I asked V to take pictures of me in the hospital for facebook. Yes, you heard me. My thinking was that, if I had to suffer through reams and reams of St.Tropez/Venice/Carribean photos of various people, I had every right to subject everybody to hospital gore. I told V that I would update my status message with lurid details of my vomit and such. V agreed and started taking photos like mad. Me in my hospital smock, me in the wheel chair, me dying of nausea etc etc. The nurses actually thought I was mental and that I had come to the wrong hospital!

Well, after more theatrics later I got wheeled to my room and fell asleep. Till...the Loved One made a dramatic entrance at 4 am like a knight in shining armor. He cracked a joke about my surroundings and patted me to sleep. After that he totally took care of me. He took on my insurance company and got me upgraded to a better room with a TV and everything. He made me laugh when I was too nauseous to eat and even gave me forbidden pieces of garlic bread when I couldn't eat the hospital food anymore.But the TV in the room was the clincher. After 2 days in a TV-less room, my dramatic recovery began the moment I got to watch MTV Roadies. Just for that a big sloppy kiss to MTV Roadies, the bestest show ever on TV. I absolutely love how it panders to my basest instincts, with a good measure of shadenfraude thrown in. But coming back to the Loved One, I fell in love with him all over again because of the concern and sensitivity he showed. He even said I looked pretty in my hospital smock. I wanted to cry because I couldn't believe I had trained him so well (I'm so gonna get whacked for this, sorry baby!). He made me laugh so much that when it was time to leave the hospital, I accidently asked the nurse when I could "Check Out" as if we were in a hotel suite!

I got discharged in 6 days, after they ran every possible test they could and after pumping me with enough anitbiotics to last a lifetime. I lost my appetite and promised never to eat till the Loved One made his Daal. This daal was heaven. Infact after tasting it, heaven should now be called daal. It not only gave me my appetite back but I after that I pretty much wanted to eat everything in sight. Which was a strict no, no and so had to contend myself with eating home cooked, non spicy food.

I skipped work and went home to Bangalore a day later to get mollycoddled by the folks. My mother fed me like one would a starved somali child. Actually the whole illness made me lose 4 Kgs and I ended the year on the exact weight that I wanted to be at. I spent 8 months in the gym in the hope of achieving that feat and it took just 6 days in the hospital in the end.

I got pampered for 10 days and then came back to Pune for work and promptly fell ill again, this time - the Flu. Heavy workload promptly came in as well, causing me to get down on my knees and literally beg all the gazillion gods to to please spare me.

Well there, that was my account of the past 4 weeks not pretty by any means. 2008 was such a Yo-Yo year for me. Good things happened but bad things happened as well. It has made me more pessimistic than ever. But hey, atleast I didn't Facebook the whole hospital thing. I still have some decency left. Probably the only reason why I can never get on MTV Roadies. hmmmm