Grandma questions conferences

Two days before I was supposed to board a flight to Seattle, my favorite city in the world, both my conferences got cancelled. I had spent almost a year planning this seven-week long trip with multiple conference talks, invited talks, presentations, work meetings, sleepover parties, and dinner plans with old friends across Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, and San Antonio. All gone in a whiff.

 

I was so numb and disoriented the first day that I did not know how to function. By day two, I had to have Bailey’s shots before I could sleep well at night. After spending a busy quarter teaching and traveling, I was really looking forward to this trip. I had said no to a work trip to Kolkata, something I would usually not do otherwise, so that I could be in Seattle.

 

Baby Kalyani threw a tantrum and said, "Auntie not coming, not fair!!" Her little sister looked dejected. Overnight, more than half a page from my vita vanished. My suitcase was packed, and now, I was left with kilos of snacks from Sukhadiya Garbaddas Bapuji and Induben Khakrawaala I did not know what to do with. Continuing my rant on my first world problems, I suddenly did not know what to do with all the unaccountable time. There was still research to do, but suddenly there were no meetings scheduled, no interviews, no students asking me for my time. I had cleared my calendar of everything for 7 weeks. Now, I had the gift of time and did not know what to do with it.

 

I decided to visit Kolkata and spend some time at home. My family, who was traveling at that time, made super quick plans to come back before I did. My sister finished her office for the day and decided to show up. My grandma, who is old and not as mobile, ordered her to be brought to our place. Everyone knew I would be in a terrible mood. Barely two hours before I landed, the entire family in different corners of the city and state had regrouped to welcome me.

 

And welcome me with something that always works- food. My parents stopped at Shanti Niketan to get me the most amazing Gokul Pithe. My sister got me the best mutton biryani I have had in a while. My parents asked me to list what I was craving. For the next twenty-four hours, everything I was craving the last 3 months was there- from begun pora to bel to toker daal to homemade kababs and what not. It seemed like an entire army was deployed to take care of me. And the narrative went something like, "Ahaare bachcha meye ta conference e jete parlona." The poor little girl (poor? little?) could not go to the conference.

 

My sister and I giggled and gossiped till late hours, just like we used to. I heard her telling my brother-in-law on the phone, "Look, I don't know when I am coming home, I just need to spend some more time here." My entire family made it their mission to make me happy.

 

But then, the talk came, from my grandma. Hands on her hips, she asked me, "Hya re, conference talk dile ki taaka daye?" (Do they pay you for speaking at conferences?)

 

Money? No. I pay money to go to conferences. They do not pay me.

 

What? Then why are you losing sleep over cancelled conference talks, she chided.

 

My family does not understand much of how academia works. Sometimes, through their eyes, I get a fresh perspective!

 

sunshine