A Christmas of its kind

Santa Claus visits those who believe in the magic of Christmas. If you rationalize too much, the magic is gone, and so is Mr. Claus. I do believe in the magic of Christmas. It’s a childhood belief that has grown with me. So this time, I wished that Santa Claus would gift me something different. I know about the cakes and Christmas trees and the decorations and socks hanging and the whole nine yards, but I wanted something unique, something my kind. I had booked my tickets to Seattle, traveling on Christmas eve, and thought that was my gift.

And then, my wish of getting something unexpected, something different came true.

It started when I was printing my boarding passes at the airport kiosk, and it asked me if I would prefer to take a later flight for a $200 travel voucher, because the flight was full. I said no without thinking much, although now that I think about it, this voucher could have flown me to Pennsylvania for the conference I am presenting at in a few months. Anyway, the deed was done, and I collected my boarding passes, waiting for my flight to Seattle via Denver.

The plane was delayed by 30 minutes. Add another 30 minutes, because the plane had to be anti-iced (a pretty cool thing to watch sitting inside the aircraft, something I am learning in the mid-west since temperatures are so cold here). Overall, my first flight was a little short of an hour and half late. The connecting flight to Seattle had left without me by the time I landed in Denver.

It was already a little after 8pm, and I was dreading a night spent at the airport for no fault of mine. I thought of the missed flight to Seattle, of the hot South Indian meal that G would have cooked for me, and the babies I would not be meeting tonight. I went up to an airline personnel, a tall man from the middle east, who, after fiddling with the computer for some time, offered to put me up at a hotel in Denver. “Is it for free?”, I asked, to which, he said, “yes, it is complimentary.” (note how complimentary was euphemistically used instead of free). Apparently the next flight was at 8am the following morning. I was already regretting the wisdom of not opting for the $200 voucher earlier, and taking the next flight, since that is what I was doing anyway. They even added a $14 meal coupon.

$14 was not a lot, since it was for dinner and breakfast. $14 would only let me go to McDonald’s. It was past 8:30pm by then, and most food places at the airport were closing down. A sandwich bar had only turkey or ham sandwiches, and I refused to eat either. Food procurement was the first battle, and it was turning out to be an interesting evening. I had walked a few more yards when much to my amazement, a McDonald’s materialized out of nowhere. I am not at all a fan of McDonald’s, but hey, McD food is better than no food.

The other interesting development was the one bag I had checked in, that had all my stuff. They said that since my bag was checked in all the way to Seattle, claiming it in Denver would need some paperwork and a wait of at least 90 minutes. I didn’t have to think twice when I said, “No, thank you.”

The white paper bag in hand, which was my unhealthy dinner on Christmas eve (at least they serve chicken), I stepped out of the airport to wait for the shuttle on a cold December Denver evening. I had often dreamed of visiting Denver, and adjoining places, but never ever I had thought that my first visit to Denver would be this way. The ex-city of Madhuri Dixit, the place I have been planning to visit in summer, I boarded the hotel shuttle and drove through the streets of Denver in darkness, being able to see nothing. During that 10-minute ride, I saw road signs to Boulder and Fort Collins, more places I have always wanted to visit.

I spent my Christmas eve in a room at the airline-paid Marriott, in a city I have never been to and do not know anyone from, eating a chicken sandwich and Starbucks coffee. I had no extra clothes with me, and a toothbrush but no toothpaste. After restlessly tossing and turning for a while, feeling too cold sometimes and too hot at other times, I fell asleep despite the unfamiliar droning of the heater. I had an 8 am flight to catch the next day. I was asked to be at the airport by 6 am. For which, I had to take the 5:20 am shuttle from the hotel.

I did not sleep a lot that night. I was up by 4 am, initially confused about where I was. Memories from the previous night came back, and so did the wish I’d made to Santa. I did spend the Christmas eve doing something unexpected and unplanned for after all.

sunshine

Weathering the cold

This morning, I counted seventeen pieces of clothing on my body before I started for work. I counted underwear too, but there are only so many that you can wear. The rest were all twos of each, two pairs of socks, two pairs of hand gloves, a few thermals, coats and scarves and caps and all. I looked nothing short of an Eskimo, a bloated one at that. I logged on to my phone to take one last look at the weather when I noticed someone from California whining about the “chilly” weather on Facebook. Not used to the Fahrenheit scale and not intending to, I was dismayed to find the weather outside to be “-15C, feels like -22C). That little bar is not a dash, it is minus. To refresh your knowledge, pure water freezes at 0 degree Celsius.

Welcome to life in NE.

            I write this with a latent anger brewing inside me, an anger not directed towards any person, but at what my life has become in the last few weeks. I prepare myself for the worse every day, and it only gets more worse. And I have not even talked about the added discomfort that wind chill creates. This is my first winter in the mid-west, literally the middle of nowherebraska, and I just don’t know how to brace myself for it.

            Don’t get me wrong, my life is pretty easy and straightforward. I am not talking about walking 30 minutes to work, or taking a crowded bus every day. It’s just that the walk from the parking lot to the lab takes 10-15 minutes, and I am not exaggerating by any stretch of imagination when I say that that walk kills me.

The kelen-car-i

            It all starts first thing in the morning, when people usually hop into their cars and drive away. I would do the same, if not for the thick coating of ice crystals on the car that takes a significant amount of time to melt. I started with scraping, but it is a long and arduous process that involves torturing oneself early morning. So I started pouring warm water on the windscreen, that I was strongly recommended against (sharp temperature differences can crack the windshield). I got the warning sign the day my car’s power buttons stopped working. The windows would not go down, the lock would not work. I knew that it was time to do something about the car.

            I went to the leasing office to get a covered garage, and I swear that they had quoted me a lower price, but they now said that they always charged $20 extra than what I thought they did. The office closes at 6 pm, I usually work way later than that, but I had to leave office earlier than usual. I called them on phone, asking them to get the paperwork ready. In return, they gave me grief about the fact that their office would be closed if I was even a minute late. Anyhow, paperwork was signed, money was paid, and I said goodbye with the remote key to the garage, only to discover that the garage door would not budge all the way up or down. I called the emergency maintenance, told them that I had a meeting the next day at 9, and they said that they would fix the door, which they did, but only for the night. That night, I actually dreamt that the door would be jammed, and yes, the door only opened half way, with my car inside. I tried working with the remote for another 30 minutes or so in the cold. No one picked up the office phone (remember, they do not tolerate people a minute after they close or a minute before whatever time they open). But I was trying to reach the emergency maintenance, the on duty for 24 hours person. Instead, I went home, all dressed and freezing, and emailed the boss saying that I was not mobile until the garage door opened. Soon after, the emergency guy called me back, and came and fixed the door. Things have been good ever since. It snowed six inches the day after I rented a garage.

A four-layered cake

            The trouble with wearing multiple layers of clothes is, after the first layer, clothes do not fit you anymore. Your jeans may fit you fine, but try wearing it with two layers of thermals inside. Or try doing anything with two layers of gloves. You have to remove them, even if you wanted to do something as simple as use the car keys. I actually feel dizzy with all the layers of tight clothing pressing down on my blood vessels. The first thing I do when I get to work is remove a few layers, only to put them back on the moment I have to leave the building. And it does not end there even with those layers. Your eyes, nose and mouth are usually left unprotected. Tears were streaming down my cheeks until I realized that I was not crying and it was the cold. I cannot take a full breath of cold air, and gasp like I have asthma. My nose still feels so sore that it seems like someone has punched it and bruised it. After 5 minutes of walking in the cold, my fingertips, all ten of them behind two layers of gloves, no longer feel cold or numbness. They burn. Intense cold makes me feel like someone has rubbed chilies on raw flesh. Pain is a sensation I can relate to, but burning is a sensation new to me. Yes, intense cold ironically makes me feel like my fingers are on fire.

And all this, for nothing but to get to work.

            Because times are different now. As a student, I’d stay back home the first thing it got extra sunny, rainy, or snowy. I am no longer a student. I am expected to be at work five days a week, eight hours a day or until the work is finished, whichever is more. I cant stay at home because it is too cold. People are so used to the weather here that schools and colleges are open even when it snows heavily.

            The quality of my life has greatly suffered due to this. I can no longer socialize or go out, because it is too cold. I can’t go to the gym anymore, and that makes me feel heavy, bloated, and miserable. The happy hormones are no longer working for me since I am not working out. On weekends, I am happy because I can work from home and do not have to go outside in the cold. This is not a healthy life. Socializing is a primary component of my life, because I have no one at home to talk to. When I tell people that I am from India and not used to this, they laugh it off. People do not realize that one can actually have serious adjustment issues if one has never been exposed to such harsh temperatures before. I know that I might just do fine in extreme heat, because I am used to that. But cold, I am just not used to. But all I hear are clichés, “It will only get worse from here”, “Don’t worry, you will get used to it.”, or, “What would you do if you lived in Wisconsin?”.But I do not live in Wisconsin, is what I want to tell them. 

Everything will be fine by May.

But May is six months away!!! When I imagine the arctic wind from Canada blowing all over here, I shiver inside my warm house. By the way, the electricity bill doubled this month, although I am not at home most of the time Monday through Friday, or when traveling, which happens quite a bit. The thing is, when you are considering a job, no one warns you about the downsides of the place. I was told that this is a cheap place to live in (which I still have my doubts about) and people are nice and super friendly. What I was not told about is the way the extreme cold can impact my life in a negative way. And you know what- don’t let anyone tell you that you are shallow because the geographical location is as important to you as the kind of work. Weather is something that will affect you every single day of life. I’d happily take a job in Texas that pays less, just because the weather will suit me better.

            This year, it seems like I have no option that be a passive spectator. But the moment I reach office, I do two things. I make myself a hot, really hot cup of coffee, and spend some time looking for jobs elsewhere. I love the kind of work I do here. But I don’t think that I will be able to survive another winter here.

As for the Californians who are still whining about the weather, I wish them a speedy mental recovery.

sunshine

Day 7: Location

January 12^th, 2013

As I have started applying for jobs, the two most important and only things that are governing my job search is, the kind of work and location. To me, location is very important. I prefer living in larger cities. If it is a small city, I prefer it being close to a large city. Then I want to live somewhere that is not snowed in most of the year. I hate being cold, having to spend 30 minutes heating up my car and scrapping off the ice before I take out the car every time. Then, I will prefer living along the coast, east or west. I would really prefer not to live in the middle of the country, amidst corn fields and all. Proximity to the mountain or the sea is an added plus. Talking about proximity, a local airport nearby is a real must. Ask me about the pain of asking people for airport rides, especially if they are more than an hour away. You will be amazed that as a professional, how much connectivity to other places is important. It helps if the place is pretty, and has a lot of history, rolling fields, and pretty locations nearby. Most importantly, I want to live in a place where I can connect to the people around me. Being a single woman in a foreign country, thousands of miles away from family, I take my location very seriously. You see, I am not really looking for an area flooded with Indians, people like me. I don’t crave for the bay area in California or Chicago for the same reason. But having an Indian grocery store nearby doesn’t hurt. Having a nearby place to be able to order Biryani doesn’t hurt either. It will be nice to live somewhere I can cultivate my hobbies, being able to have writing groups, photography clubs, or hiking groups. And having my favorite stores (Macy’s, Trader Joe’s, Ikea, etc.) at least 1-2 hours away may not hurt.

You must be wondering what is wrong with me. In this shitty economy, it is a blessing to have a job, and beggars should not be choosers. I agree. However, work is a part of my life, it is not my entire life. There are some 12-15 hours in my daily life when I do not work. To ensure that I am efficient at my job, it is very important that I am mentally happy during the rest of the day. I know that my class cohort is applying to every possible job, and will leave no stone unturned, willing to relocate anywhere. However, this is a risk I am willing to take. I have done it in the past, and I am doing it again. After all, you just need one acceptance offer at the end of the day. I did not go to Ann Arbor (being a top ranking school) because it is extremely cold in winters, and I did have an offer from another equally ranked school. A few years later, I did not go to Bloomington for the same reason. I have taken risks based on locations, and I have been lucky so far. Even now, I am not applying to places like Greeley, Pullman, and Murfreesboro (despite job openings) because I don’t see myself living in these places. Well, I wouldn’t say never because you never know, but given a choice, I would like to live in more well known and well connected places. Some of these places I haven’t even heard of. I don’t want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of miles away from my friends. It’s about safety, but it is also largely about mental well being. Taking anti-depressants will be the last thing on my agenda ever. Some of my friends think that I am crazy, but then, it is about me, and not about them.

In life, it is very important to know what is it that you want. And even if you don’t know that, it might be important to figure out what is it that you definitely don’t want. God, I just want some luck.

sunshine

Day 6: Knowing it all

January 11, 2013

Sometime back, I was meeting a group of friends when something came up and one of them said, “What Bernie Madoff did was awful.” Honestly, I had never even heard of him before that day, let alone know what awful thing he had done. I don’t think anyone judged me for not having heard of him, but myself. When I came back and looked him up, I could only wonder why I hadn’t heard of him before. In fact, I didn’t even know how his name is spelled, and I struggled to look up the right person on the net. And then Wikipedia showed me the light.

Ever since, I have made it a point to ensure that I don’t look stupid in front of people. Sure, it is not possible for someone to know it all, but it is criminal not to stay abreast of the current affairs. Never again have I told anyone that I don’t like reading the news. It’s more important to know something about everything than know everything about something.

The problem is, I never grew up being encouraged to read news. My father religiously kept himself updated on the ongoing of the world and was stereotyped as “that guy who never shares the newspaper and spends hours reading it.” My mother on the other hand would scour the paper to look for information on movies, cookery, and fashion. And I heard this a lot from others, “I don’t even read the newspaper these days, the current state of the world depresses me.” However, how do you hang out with a group of smart, intelligent people when you cannot make a decent conversation with them? My evolution in this case was certainly need-based.

It is not just important to know it all, it is also important to have an opinion about things. Of course this comes with time and practice. But when there is so much to read about, how does one filter things? My areas of interest include literature, Bollywood, science, photography, scrabble, and solving puzzles, in no particular order. However, knowing a lot about your interest area is not enough, especially if you are targeting to launch yourself in the job market. You need to be able to make conversation with a wider audience. You might meet a group of people talking about Chanel perfumes, Bofors scandal, gun legislation, avocado salad recipes, and Pulitzer prize winners in the same room. How do you mingle with everyone if you do not know a little bit of everything?

So I make sure that I at least skim through the news headlines daily. Washington Post, Huffington Post, Drudge Report, The Chronicles of Higher Education, are some of the usual suspects. Then there is merit in knowing the best places in town to dine, wine, or go around (Yelp helps me with that). My adviser has an interesting theory about skimming through large chunks of information, he compares it to eating a bowl of rice. You need not chew your way through every morsel, every grain. It is enough to do some basic chewing. I really like his analogy.

So never shy away from knowing the world around you, because everything will affect you, directly or indirectly. Pay attention to what people are talking about, in cocktail parties, on Facebook, etc. And make Wikipedia your best friend. With all those resources the internet provides, there is no excuse, absolutely no excuse for being ignorant.

sunshine

Day 6: A new office

January 10, 2013

I have a new office now, an off-campus one. And the best thing about it, other than having lots of space, sunshine, and the shopping mall with restaurant options nearby is, parking is free and I can drive to work. Don’t get me wrong, I have never hated taking the bus. In sunshine and cold and rain, I have waited for the bus for the last 2.5 years here, with my satchel and books and coat and food dabba. I have made acquaintances in the bus, and some of them take the same bus at the same time with the amazing predictability. These are people I nod and smile at everyday, without knowing who they are. But taking the car gives me a pseudo sense of happiness that this is my job life, and not my student life. I no longer have to wait for the bus. I can carry as many things as I want to without having to plan. So I set out in the mornings, throw my bags in the car, switch on some radio station, and drive away nodding my head to music. I used to do that when I worked in Seattle, I even sipped a cuppa mocha from Starbucks some days. Now I am trying to give up caffeine and save for the rainy day, hence the coffee is gone. Once there, I park my car, spring up to the lobby, take the elevator upstairs, and get to my office, all in a span of less than 10 minutes. It’s all new and exciting now, I am sure it will all fade with time. Earlier, my office was in the middle of the building, with no windows. Now, I have a big window overlooking the street, and I can look at the bare tree trunks and the winding roads in the winter. It’s amazing, how much thrill a little bit of change once in a while brings you.

sunshine

Day 4: Aggression

January 8^th, 2013

The incredible amount of aggression that drives people around me is just astounding. I see it not only in professors yearning to get tenure, but in students targeting to get that perfect grade, graduating students yearning to get that perfect job, fellow gym buddies targeting to lose those pounds and attain the perfect figure, and so on. An acquaintance recently told me that he applied for a hundred different jobs while he is completing his PhD. Even if he was exaggerating, I am sure the number was no less than fifty. Now how many jobs do you need at the end of the day? Just one.

What worries me about aggression is the fact that I don’t think I have enough of it in me. I mean, I am still doing the things that I wanted to, living independently, (still) getting an education, driving a car, traveling the world, applying for jobs, and trying to lose those extra pounds at the gym. However, I am only too happy to smell the roses, wake up to a carefree life, enjoy the sun and the breeze, take pictures, write a poem or two, and watch that favorite movie again and again. I try not to live life off a checklist- Visit Paris. Run a marathon. Shed 20 pounds before Christmas. Get a $125k/year job. You get the picture, right?

In life, it is very important to push oneself beyond one’s comfort zone. We would never have been what we are if we did not leave our comfort zones, pushed ourselves to excel, learned that new programming language, run that new statistical analysis, and so on. But how do we decide what is pushing oneself and what is being aggressive? Where do we draw the line? I am not assigning a value or a judgment to being aggressive. But I worry about what if it is not in me? What if being happy go lucky turns out to be intellectually fatal? I wonder if it is specifically a trait for people working in the US, or if my brethrens in other parts of the world feel the aggression building in them too. And while I mull over this, I know it is time to polish up that CV, publish another research paper, go to another conference, start networking aggressively, get a paid membership at LinkedIn, spend a fortune on formal clothes, anything to get myself a job here. Preferably a very high paying job.

And as usual, we run out of life as we struggle to make a living.

sunshine

Day 3: The three ingredients- sunshine, food, and socializing

January 3^rd, 2013

I rarely suffer from jetlag when I go back to India. However, for the last 2 days here in the US, I have been severely jetlagged. On day 1, I fell asleep at noon and woke up at midnight, after 12 straight hours. When I woke up, I seriously thought that I was dead, since I never ever remember getting sleeping uninterrupted for half a day. On day 2, I tried keeping myself awake for a while, went to work, did some grocery, and fell asleep by 7 pm. I woke up exactly at midnight and have been up ever since. On day 1, I did not even have the energy to do grocery, and on day 2, I had no energy to cook. This is surprising, given I faced no such problems in India. I landed in Calcutta in the evening, had a heavy dinner, and went to sleep. I woke up at 5 am, and throughout my stay, I kept waking up at 5 am every day, weekdays and weekends. Mine was a sleep regime I would love to emulate in the US. So what went wrong here? Here is my theory- the three basic ingredients that keep us happy and kicking.

Sunshine

Flying eastward, I was usually in broad daylight most of the time. Whereas when flying westward, I started from Dubai at around midnight, and then saw darkness for 17 hours straight. As I looked at the world map projected on the screen, I realized that the sun chased me almost for the entire duration. Only when I was an hour away from landing in the US did I see some sunshine. Now my body is confused, because whenever I wake up, it is dark outside.

Food

I never had to worry about procuring food in India. Home cooked, nutritious food was always available, and that too, the kind of food I loved. I would have 2 breakfasts everyday (not 2 courses). Since I woke up early, my first breakfast was at 6 am. The second one was when everyone was having their breakfast, around 10 am. I refused to eat anything I ate in the US on purpose. For example, breakfast would never be milk and cereals; it would always be freshly made roti and subzee. I never ate burgers and fries in India, it would always be the food I grew up eating- baingan ka bharta, saag, chicken curry, anything. My body was happy, and so was my mind. I had no issues digesting anything, and despite having my fair share of street food like paani puri and chaat, I never fell ill. But what’s happened here? I barely have the energy to do grocery and cook, and have been mostly living on the peas paranthe mom packed for me, with some fruits and sweets. I can hear my system screaming in pain. Sleep eludes me thus as I struggle to get my eating right.

Socializing

No matter how much I hate nosy neighbors and pesky people in India, there is something valuable to learn about the socialization culture there. With my roommate gone, I end up not speaking to anyone for hours. It is too late to call anyone by the time I wake up at midnight. So I have been calling my mom and chatting up a lot. Even the routine sounds of the newspaper person outside, the vendors selling fruits and vegetables, the maid chitchatting with you, or the next door neighbor visiting with a bowl full of sweets is missing. People are busy here, period. No one had the time to catch up with you unless it is a weekend,. Even in lab, the guy hugged me and wished me a happy new year and went back to work. The only audible sound was the clicking of the keys as we typed furiously on our respective laptops. And then the adviser came and asked me to respond to a dozen emails, another form of silent communication. Suddenly, my daily life has become so quiet, I long to hear a human voice, even if it that annoying neighbor next door wanting to know why I have put on so much weight or am not moving back to India.

So that is my theory about the reasons why I am having difficulty coping with jet lag in the US and am suffering in silence, in darkness, and on an empty stomach. I think I would do much better sleep wise if I was giving myself good food, lots of sunshine, and lots of opportunities to talk and vent my heart out. And that is why I am awake at 4 in the morning, furiously writing blogs. When I was young and inexperienced, I had no qualms about abusing my body, by skipping meals, depending on caffeine, staying up all night and studying, never working out, and so on. Over the years, I realized the importance of nurturing my body with the right ingredients (not just food) so that I could do well in what I was doing, remain calm, and feel happy and emotionally connected with myself. Ironically, I seemed way in shape then than I am now, although now I put more effort into eating and sleeping right, working out, hiking, reading and doing the right stuff, cleansing the mind and body, and staying out of issues that disturb me. Although I am suffering due to this jetlag, I am more conscious of my suffering than I used to be before. And while people in India smirk and scoff about the ease of my life in the US, I realize the immense challenge and responsibility that is associated with living alone and committing yourself to a healthy lifestyle without the support of family, mom’s love, and home cooked meals that appear miraculously and free of cost on the table. It is almost like magic, only if you believe in magic.

On a different note, here is a picture I took during my trip to Qutub Minar this time.

sunshine

Day 2: Feeling Driven

January 2^nd, 2013

            As I landed to the familiar sights and smells of the US, the only question nagging me was, would I be able to drive after a 5 week long hiatus? In these 5 weeks, I had seen my share of rash driving in India, wondering how people drove without lanes, never bothered to check their blind spots, and rarely wore seat belts. I took a cab to where my car was parked, and as usual, got into a conversation with the cab driver. He summarized his life history in about 3 minutes, and asked me every possible question that I have ever been asked by a cab driver. Am I a student? Will I be a (medical) doctor? Did I get a full scholarship? Why was I single and living far away from home? The guy from Afghanistan had 7 more siblings back home, and never went back ever since he moved here years ago (I never ask why). And then he told me how he would drive the same route everyday, for 5 months, because his son was getting a heart surgery. He woke up at 4 am, drove 5-6 hours round trip, visiting his son at the hospital every day. He told me he decided against a heart transplant for Jamal. I told him it must be hard being a parent, watching your children suffer. I told him that I would never understand what he must have gone through. He told me that you learn to respect your parents more the day you have your children. And then I saw his eyes glitter as he dug the picture of Jamal on his iphone. I had expected him to be older, but Jamal had celebrated his first birthday 2 days ago. He looked like a bonny baby, a cute little bundle of smiles, the last person you would think needs a heart transplant. It’s amazing how everyone is coping in their life, including a 1 year old.

“Is Jamal your only son?”, I asked.

            The cab driver smiled sheepishly, and told me how you are not considered a man until you have a big family. Jamal was the third one. The fourth one is on his way in 2 weeks.

            He dropped me off to my car and left. I walked up to my car nervously, loaded my suitcases, and prayed that the engine had not died due to the cold weather. It took me about 20-30 minutes to feel normal on the roads again, while I drove slowly and nervously, got honked at a couple of times, and realized that I had forgotten I had to step on the gas and speed up. I was consistently driving 10-15 mph below the speed limit.

            Once I got comfortable behind the wheels, I started to admire the landscape and the freedom I had left behind. Despite many plusses that India is, low cab fares, being able to afford a driver, and so on, I always lived with a feeling of dependence in India, depending on someone else to drive me around. Sometimes the cab drivers refused to go where you wanted do, fleeced you, and argued. Even when hiring a car and being driven around, the fun of being behind the wheels was gone.

            I turned left on a highway at a certain point when I saw the car from the opposite flick his high beam lights at me. In the next 2 seconds, a flurry of thoughts crossed my mind. Did I forget to turn my headlights on? (It was broad daylight). Was the guy checking his own headlights? Was I speeding? Within 2 seconds, I spotted a cop car hidden in the bushes. I grinned from ear to ear, now realizing what the driver was trying to warn me about. Talk about skillful communication. Perhaps I should return the favor to someone someday.

            I reached home after 2.5 hours of traffic free driving. After putting away the food in the fridge, I switched off my phone and slept for 10 hours straight. I don’t really remember the last time I had slept this long.

            For the last two days, I haven’t been able to get the song “Matru ki bijlee ka mandola” out of my head. Seems like it is time to burn a new CD for my long drives.

sunshine

Day 1: Bye Bye Dubai

January 1^st, 2013

            When I finally reached the hotel room after seemingly hours of paperwork, waiting in lines, and figuring my way out, I had the choice of either crashing for the next few hours, or going outside hunting for some city exploration opportunities. With all the exhaustion from the previous flight, time differences, jet lag, and the overwhelming feeling of figuring things out, I was tempted to sink in the bed and go off to sleep. However, it felt like a crime to be in a new country for a few hours and not see it. So after what seemed like a long and torturing lunch buffet (torturing because it was the first meal I have had in a long time that was not home cooked), I went off to say hi to the lady at the kiosk selling tickets for the city tour. $30 did not seem bad at all for a four hour long trip; the real issue was compromising with sleep and rest.

            As the sun went down over the Persian Gulf, I stared at all the affluence, the impressive hotels, the gold and the glitter that Dubai was. The humongous roads, expensive cars, and exit signs had an unmistakable resemblance with the US. But here I was closer to India than I was to the US. This trip had been emotionally exhausting for more reasons than one, and unlike other times, I vaguely looked at the buildings and tourist points without much registering in. The physical pain that came from the exhaustion and sleeplessness was palpable. After four never ending long hours, I was only too happy to get back to my room, take a long shower, and sink into the bed. I had exactly one hour before I had to wake up and leave for the airport. I was deep asleep even before I knew.

            That was how the first day of 2013 happened to me. I should have been happy about visiting a new country, the 11^th one for me. But nothing relieves me more than the prospect of hopping on to that long flight and going back home. Despite long hours of contemplation and reflection, I am unable to find that inner peace, that calm and composure that assures me that everything is in control. Something in me is at war, at a constant internal conflict. Something in me is dying every day, and I am clueless about what it is.

            (Scribbled in haste and in a dark mood from the Dubai airport. And the new year resolution is to pen down my thoughts more frequently. This blog is dying, and I hate to see it that way. Happy new year everyone).

sunshine