Recapping the past decade

The one thing that Covid-19 has given many of us is a lot of time to stay at home and reflect. That is what I have been doing since March. I was thinking that if someday, my memory left me, I would not know who I am. My basic fabric, the blueprint of who I am will go amiss. I know that we are into the fifth month of the year, a year many want to wish away, but the start of this year also marked a fantastic end to a decade (2010-2019). Here are some of the things I will remember the last decade for:

I restarted my PhD for the second time and also earned it. This time, my PhD made me leave Seattle (the “best” coast) and head diametrically east. It brought new experiences, new friends, and new adventures. I miss those three years and keep wishing that one day, I could return. From the beaches of North Carolina and Virginia to the mountains of upstate New York, the ocean of Maine and the beaches of Florida, I drove everywhere. From Boston to Princeton to New York, Baltimore, Washington, DC, Richmond, and Orlando, I made new friends everywhere. 

The last decade also marked my transition from science to social science research. The transition brought its own challenges of learning an entire new field. Each field is a new way of looking at the world, and this new lens taught me to look at the world in a different way. 

I grew an inch taller.

2010 is when I first traveled Europe as a tourist. That was also when I got a taste of backpacking and traveling alone, and there was no looking back. 

Half-way into the decade, when I got a job in Germany, I was thrilled. Over the next few years, I lived, worked, and paid taxes in the USA, Germany, and India. Germany for two years was another nice experience. I lived right by the ocean and woke up looking at the sun rise by the water and the ships dock right outside home everyday. Germany is one of the prettiest places I have ever lived in. Again, this is another place I keep wishing I would go back to, maybe for a year or three. 

I got my first faculty job. And my second one too.

I traveled Cambodia with dad. And Thailand. And Nepal. I got to see Angkor Wat and the Annapurna range. The decade opened up Asia for me and made me realize there are so many places I haven’t traveled.

I discovered the joy of living in hostels. I discovered Airbnb. 

I got to work in one of the renowned schools in India. All these months later, I am still in awe of this place!

I became a home owner.

I traveled to 32 new countries. And I am not talking about airport layovers or watching television at a hotel in Dubai because my connecting flight leaves tomorrow.

I regret that I didn't learn a new skill or a new language.

Okay, I was kidding about my height!

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Thinking of 2016

It is hard to believe that we are already deep into March and I am talking about 2016 in the past tense. It seems yesterday that 2016 started and I was at Cajun Crawfish in Seattle with friends, donning my bib and gloves and eating seafood like gluttons. I left for Germany soon after, not knowing that I would be making three more trips in the next three months all over the US, mostly for faculty interviews.

2016 was a pivotal year in my life, and my career. It was craziness on steroids. I did a lot of new things, but more importantly, I had a lot of fun doing the things that I did. I ate rabbit meat in Malta and fried crickets in Mexico (and hated both). I almost got killed a couple of times, once after being chased by an angry donkey while hiking up a hill in Greece and once, when I got on a wrong train in Germany and landed up in the middle of nowhere at 2 am, being stranded at a desolate railway station for hours (I need to write about it). In the middle of a faculty interview, I managed to rip my pants and spent some time locked inside the dean’s office, stripped waist down, hurriedly sewing my trousers to be able to hang on to my dignity and continue with the interview. There was no dearth of adventure in my life. Amid all these little and not so little things, I will remember 2016 specifically for these reasons:

My grandfather’s passing: His passing not only left a deep void in me, but also made me face for the first time the consequences of my life choices of living away from the country, the land and the people, so far that saying goodbye would not be possible. He left behind a gaping hole in my heart that will never heal. I lost a person from my childhood, and there is only a handful people left from my childhood. I sometimes go through phases where I can sense him around me. Everyone from the family and extended family was at his funeral except me, his first grandchild. I haven’t found closure and I never will.

Losing my passport: Being robbed off my passport in broad daylight made me realize how paralyzing the instinct of fear is and how strong gut feelings could be. Although I would choose to be robbed off neither, if someone held me at gunpoint and forced me to choose, I’d rather they took my money than passport. A stolen passport remains in your record for a long time. I am often singled out for extra scrutiny every now and then. That incident in Athens shook me. Along with my passport and all my money, what I lost that day was my self-confidence. I felt small, and I felt violated. It wasn’t easy to think calmly in an unknown country I was visiting for the first time, being on my own. Losing a passport strips you off your identity. Suddenly, there is no way to prove who you are. There is no way you can board an airplane after that, even to your own country because without a passport, you cannot even prove what country you belong to. For a long time, fear had gnawed my insides. The feeling was very visceral.

Finding the job: 2016 was when I transitioned from finding “a job” to finding “the job”. It wasn’t easy and it took me a while to get there. It transformed things for me fundamentally, from working hard to fulfill other’s scholarly dreams to now working harder to fulfill my own scholarly dreams. Being faculty is one of the hardest things I have done in life. It takes up all my time and energy every single day. And that is exactly how I would have wanted it. I have a better understanding and much greater appreciation of my PhD adviser now. There were so many times I could not comprehend why he acted the way he did. Now, I finally do.

Moving back to the US: After two years of my linguistic exile in Germany, it was interesting to move back to the US once again as a resident and not as a temporary visitor. I have a driver’s license again. I have access to US Netflix. I am in the same time zone as many of my friends (or within a respectable time difference). I have a US number again. I can suddenly understand and be understood. These are little comforts that I had missed out on big time.

Traveling: 2016 will be my most well-traveled year. I traveled 16 countries (and 35 cities), 13 of which (countries) were new, and 11 of them, on my own. Paying monthly rent became a formality. I turned thirty five while hiking the forts of Dubrovnik and scaling the mountains of Montenegro. Visiting the concentration camps of Auschwitz was another significant experience. I took a cruise ship for the first time, all the way to Norway. I almost scaled the pyramids of Mexico. In terms of travel and experiencing places, there has never been a better year.

I am grateful for the many experiences 2016 brought me. 2017 has been relatively low-key so far. But I am not complaining.

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2016 by 2

And just like that, half of eventful year is over. And what happened in these last 6 months?

1.     True to my word, I wrote more than 100 blog posts, a record.

2.     Got a faculty position.

3.     Lost my grandpa.

4.     Got robbed.

5.     Visited Kolkata.

6.     Traveled five new countries.

7.     Published a research paper.

8.     Got three grants rejected.

9.     Got two new passports.

10.  Almost got killed.

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Every day after that day

48 hours since my bombastic entry into Greece. My first armed robbery (armed because they stole my valuables from literally under my arm). Hundreds of messages from friends and family wanting to know how I am doing. How am I? I am okay. Trying to cope after coming dangerously close to having to sell a kidney. I feel 10 times heavier. I have splitting headaches and nightmares. When bad news comes in little installments over a period of time (like an impending breakup or obesity), one gets more time to prepare. But when the same dose of bad news happens in 60 seconds leaving you almost bankrupt, the mind does not know how to respond. It was traumatic to take another metro after that.

But then, there are many good things that happened after that. The Indian embassy gave me a temporary passport in 2 hours. I met Sara, a fellow traveler from Singapore. Together, we did some sightseeing in Athens and hiking in a nearby island. Disaster was about to strike again when while hiking, we were chased byan angry donkey and had to run downhill for our lives after huffing and puffing and hiking for 40 minutes. We never made it to the top again, the donkey blocked the trail. Robbed by Greek thieves and then death by a donkey? There would be no dignity for me after that.

Now the big question that was plaguing me was, should I or should I not go to Malta next? And the even bigger question. Will they or won't they allow me to take a plane to Malta on a handwritten, temporary passport? I decided to leave it to my fate. What saved me is that they did not steal my German residence card. That would have jeopardized my entry even to Germany as my new passport has no visa. Between stealing a passport and stealing a residence card, they somehow cushioned my loss by stealing the passport.

The people at the airport were a little intrigued by a new passport with no stamps. I decided to shut my mouth until being questioned. A handwritten passport could have been a problem. But I boarded the 6 am flight. When the security people at the airport in Malta wanted to check my passport again, my heart stopped. They could ask me to return. They did not. They said, "Oh, you have a new passport? No problem, the residence card is good enough."

All this seemed to have happened a lifetime ago. Greece and Malta later, I came back to Germany, applied for a new passport, obtained one, and flew eastward ho to Kolkata for a few weeks. The mangoes and litchis have been cushioning my sense of loss so far.

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Robbed

Less than an hour into landing in Athens, I was robbed off my passport and many hundred euros in broad daylight inside a crowded metro. I have been traveling alone for many years now. I have traveled close to 25 countries so far, and many of them on my own. I usually stay at hostels and fit in easily with an international crowd. I am not shy or awkward and stay extra alert while traveling. I can read maps and I can navigate my way around even in obscure little towns where I do not speak the local language. I usually show up at airports an hour extra ahead of time. I usually get two printouts of documents kept in separate places. I stick to the crowded parts of a city, do not venture out at night, and never go for a drink with people I have just met at hostels. In short, I do all that I can to stay safe and not get drugged or killed while traveling, and in general. Then how did this happen to me? It's a useful (and very expensive) experience to share.

After landing in Athens, I bought a € 10 one-way ticket from the airport to Omonia. This required me to take the blue line from the airport to Syntagma, and then change to the red line for two more stops to Omonia. I had a trolley suitcase on my left and a small handbag on my right. I got down at Syntagma to change to the red line. When the train came, a group of men and women got on the train from the same door as mine. They were a part of a big gang. But this, I realized later. The moment I got on the red line metro, these people kind of surrounded me and did not let me move. 

"Omonia, how many stops? Next stop?" one of them asked me naively. They were all standing too close for comfort. 

"Two" I said and tried to move away. The crowd would not let me. Have you ever played kabaddi? You will know what I mean. They closed in on me. A man on my left held my left hand rather amorously. I jerked away my hand. He looked at me and smiled, asking to hold my trolley suitcase which was in my left hand. I immediately knew that something bad is going to happen to me. Intuitively, yes. I turned to the man on the left to grab my suitcase. He just would not release my hand. He squeezed it just like a lover would do. That was when someone on the right took a bag that was inside another bigger bag and had my passport and all my money. All this happened in less than 60 seconds. They got off at Panepistimio, the station before Omonia, and walked out in a group. By then, I knew that I had lost something, and something big. I just did not know (yet) what it was. 

When I got off at Omonia, I was relieved to see that my purse was with me. But the relief lasted for a second. Because my passport bag next to it was gone. 

So here are a few things you need to know. This, I can tell from my experience and talking to the police as well as the embassy: 

1. These guys operate in huge gangs, specifically inside the airport (yes!!) and in the metro stations. Women are also a part of these gangs. I was told they are refugees, but I do not know about that. 

2. They pretend that they do not know each other, but they do. When they target someone, they just close in on them. 

3. They use a distraction technique, holding your hand amorously or smiling flirtatiously, slightly pushing a heavier luggage from your hand. But remember, they have no intention to flirt or take your suitcase. This is meant to distract you in one direction while someone is working in the other direction. And they work really really fast, within a minute or so. They just get off at the next station and walk out. 

4. Distribute your money. I was going to once I checked in to my hostel, but it was too late. 

If you are a victim of a stolen passport, do the following: 

1. Immediately go to the police station for tourists. I first went to the metro police, who asked me to go to another police station, and I had to go to three police stations until I found the right one. 

2. Cabs in Athens are super cheap. If you still have some money, just take a cab. 

3. The police does not care. They see cases like this everyday. I was told that sometimes they are involved too, but I do not know about that. However, you need to take the police report to the Indian embassy (or the embassy of your country) as soon as possible. That report was written entirely in Greek. At the embassy, someone will translate it and issue a "temporary passport" that will let you fly back to the country of your residence. It is a hand-written passport and mine was valid for one year. The police report is the first step. The embassy cannot do anything without that. 

4. The Indian Embassy in Athens is super nice and helpful. When I explained what happened, they said they will try to get me a temporary passport within the next day. It's just like applying for a normal passport. The embassy charged me € 126 for a temporary passport, and issued it to me within two hours. They are super nice people. 

5. Take your temporary passport and get back to your country of residence. From there, apply for a fresh passport. 

6. ALWAYS travel with a photocopy of your passport and a few passport sized pictures. This, I did not do. The embassy needs to get all the information from your passport, which is why you need to carry photocopies. 

7. Get in touch with the embassy of your country as soon as possible. They are the only ones who can and will help you. 

8. No matter how much shock you are in, don't forget to eat and drink water. An empty stomach and dehydrated body will do strange things to your brain. You need to be alert and make judgments very quickly. I am pretty sure I hallucinated the entire night. 

So how does it feel? To say that I am shaken and shattered would be an understatement. I was too afraid to go to an ATM and take out money at night, and had to wait till the next morning to find some of my confidence back. My legs had no strength to move. I have never felt more helpless in a foreign country where I knew no one and was not even carrying a cell phone. I would not wish this on anyone. But I am glad that I was physically not hurt (I was told that some of them carry razors and pocket knives too). The thing is, it's not that I suddenly realized that my stuff is gone. I knew all the time that something bad is happening to me. But they put you into a trance. They distract you. As a woman, I would watch out for someone who is holding my hand. At one point, I feared that I might be mauled or molested. But that is a distraction technique. All this will be over in less than a minute. And a woman traveling alone with luggage makes a great target. 

I have many things to be sad about, but many things to be thankful about too. 

My passport is gone, but is replaceable. 

Thank God my US visa was not in this passport. 

They stole all the cash, but my bank cards, and most importantly, my residence permit was in a different bag and were not stolen. Without my residence permit, I could not have reentered Germany. Although I was within the Schengen area, airlines and airports are super strict these days after the Paris/Brussels attacks. You need to carry your passport at all times. 

I wish the money went to someone needy. It is a lot, but I will earn it back eventually. Passport, I will have a new one. But what I really lost that day was my self-confidence. I felt violated. I felt like someone had crushed my confidence and reduced me to nothing. I had no strength to walk on a street without cowering and feeling like I will be attacked again. It made me feel small. It made me blame myself for the hundreds of things I could have done differently. But as long as you are alive, everything is replaceable. I saw Athens after that, and traveled some more with my temporary passport. 6-7 men robbed me in broad daylight. But 60 people jumped in to help me. I am grateful to all of them. And a big thank you to the people of the Indian Embassy. You went out of your way to do much more than getting me a passport promptly. You made me feel safe and understood. 

And lastly, a little bit of something that perked me up. Miss Universe 1994 Sushmita Sen had the same experience at the Athens airport in 2012. I am very sorry for your loss Sushmita, but this might be the closest I have come to saying "same pinch" to a Bollywood celebrity I like. 

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2015: Looking Back

Certain years in our lives pose questions, and other years provide answers. Looking back at the year that 2015 was, there are so many expected things that did not, and things unexpected that happened out of the blue. Most things that happened fall into predictable categories of academic achievements, expansion of writing interests, forging new friendships, and some extensive networking. There were some interesting first times too. Doing pot in Amsterdam. Taking the Amtrak from Chicago to Seattle. Getting my first internal grant. Seeing the largest sailing event in the world. First travel grant. Going back to the UW after 7 years. 

However, the one thing that stands out more than anything is travel. 2015 has been undoubtedly the most extensively traveled year of my life. Conferences, collaborations, family trips, personal travel, everything that was meant to happen happened. Every month, I visited at least one different country. That's a total of 22 different cities in 13 different countries, including six new countries. There were three discrete trips to India and two discrete trips to the US. There were two aborted trips to Luxembourg and Italy as well, but no complaints. At one point, I was wondering why I am even paying rent.

India: Kolkata is Kolkata. Most of my time there goes in meeting and eating. The interesting bit was visiting during Durga Puja for the first time ever since I left India. My last Durga Puja in Kolkata was in 2005. I was in Mumbai too, very briefly, and the only thing I remember of it was dining at Mahesh Lunch Home. Unarguably the best seafood restaurant I have dined at, do not miss ordering Solkadhi, the strawberry-milkshake-lookalike drink that is anything but strawberries and sugar. It blew me away. Talking of being blown away, Sikkim had pretty much that kind of effect on me. Clean air, plastic-free, the majestic snow-capped mountains, simple people, delicious Tibetian food, and pretty homes stacked up. That is how I will always remember the capital city, Gangtok. After viewing the Kanchenjunga (the third highest mountain in the world) for two consecutive dawns from Gangtok, we went to Pelling to be able to get a better and much closer view of the mountains. However, the rain and bad weather ensured that the entire mountain is shrouded, and we saw nothing, despite excitedly waking up before dawn and waiting in the cold with camera gear. Forget seeing the mountains, even our sightseeing plans had to be cancelled. It rehashed an important life lesson. That moving physically closer to your destination doesn't necessarily mean that you will reach your destination. If something is meant to happen, it will. Most importantly, it might be good to have alternate plans in life, and move on. 

Canada, France, and UAE were short trips, mostly for meeting old friends or exploring a city during long layovers. Visiting the Scandinavian countries for the first time made me realize how short, and how poor I am. Malmö (Sweden) was nice, and so was Helsinki (Finland). Grey, exorbitant, but thankfully, English speaking. The interesting surprise was an unexpected cruise ship ride (my first time) from Helsinki to Tallinn (Estonia), when the smaller boats were cancelled due to bad weather. Try traveling in a cruise ship at least once. It is an amazing experience. The Baltic countries (Estonia, and Riga in Latvia) were very pretty, inexpensive, laidback, and replete with their eastern European charm.

In Germany, visiting the Berlin wall was a humbling experience. Even with everything I had read and the number of movies I watched over the years, nothing had prepared me for how I felt visiting it. For an onlooker who does not know, this would have seemed an ordinary park, a rather dilapidated one, with children playing, people running, and tourists taking pictures. Yet this place is full of history, full of stories that are not quite that old. Stories of pain and separation and letting go. And stories of courage and bravery and resilience of the human spirit. I was engulfed with a sense of sadness, a sense of shared grief for human suffering. But what I witnessed was also the victory of hope over suffering, of good over bad. May no wall be strong enough to confine and restrict the spirit, our dreams, love, and the sense of goodness. There are people who build walls, and there are also people who break those walls. Being here reaffirmed my faith in the resilience of the human spirit.

Lübeck turned out to be a very pretty northern German town, reminding me how pretty Germany is. The cobbled streets, the architecture, the pretty little cafes that serve amazing food and coffee in classy china, the churches and pretty homes, the waterfront, and the iconic Holsten Gate, Lübeck had to offer a lot. I spent the entire day walking, watching, reading, then walking some more, and taking in the pretty sights. Two of the many things about it- This is the home to the marzipan industry, and the home of Nobel laureate Günter Grass. Although a small place, Lübeck is actually home to three Nobel laureates.

Denmark was beautiful, and so was Switzerland. Amsterdam (Netherlands) turned out to be a city of canals, museums, and pot. I had the most amazing Indonesian food in Amsterdam. I was not aware of Netherland’s colonial history, and how Indonesian cuisine became a part of Dutch food. Seriously, when in Amsterdam, do not miss eating Indonesian.

USA: The other interesting experience was taking the Empire Builder train (Amtrak) from Chicago to Seattle ($140 one way). It leaves Chicago Union Station at 2:15 pm CST, and 46 hours later, reaches Seattle at 10:30 am PST. The scenery for more than half the trip was uneventful (unless you are like me, who loves watching any kind of landscape). I saw a lot of fields, birds, and arid lands in Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, and North Dakota. However, the real change started on the evening of day 2, while we were crossing Glacier National Park in Montana. The sunset was amazing. The mountains were huge. After that, it was really pretty for the rest of the trip.

The seats were much better and more comfortable than the ones in an airplane. They recline very well, and given that only half the train was full, I had two seats to myself. So I actually managed to get into a fetal position and sleep well for two nights. However, if you do not fall asleep easily, I would not recommend it.

The dining car and the observation deck had an amazing 270 degree view. YouTube has some nice videos of how it looks inside the train and the observation deck. The food was quite pricey, and nothing to die for (the menu is available online). I had anticipated this. So I carried my own food to last me for the trip, including biryani from Ghareeb Nawaz in Chicago. But then, that's me. I can sleep well, and eat biryani under any circumstances.

There is no internet, unless you have your own. I don't know about cell phone connectivity, since I did not have one. Not anymore. I was surprised at how many people boarded the train with me, and went all the way to Seattle. At some point, the train bifurcated. Half of it went to Seattle, and the other half to Portland.

Dress in layers. It was freezing at night. The restrooms were clean and big. No complaints. Also, you can check in a lot of luggage, much more than airplanes allow you. Overall, it was a great experience, and I would do it again. But then, I love trains, watching landscapes, and I was not in a hurry. If you don't have the time and are more into "tick mark tourism", this is not for you.

This is a short summary of some of the places I visited in 2015. I am not sure what 2016 has in store. As weird as it sounds, I think that I might be ready to be home, be rooted for a change, and develop different hobbies that does not require as much travel.

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Impostor Syndrome

“I am a fraud and they will soon find out.”

I have always wanted to research more about impostor syndrome (a psychological trait in which people do not believe in their accomplishments). This is because I know that I secretly suffer from it. It is a fear that comes on accomplishing something, that perhaps it was not deserved, and perhaps someone made a wrong judgment, and soon, everyone will find out that you are not as bright as they think you are. There is abundant literature about how women in higher education feel it all the time. It often comes from not having enough self-confidence, sense of worth, or mentors and role models who are like you (racially, gender-wise, etc.).

Although I suffer from it, I am now consciously aware of it, so that whenever such thoughts cross my mind, I make an effort to dispel such fears. But that was not the case few years ago. When I first moved to the US, it was to study at a top-ranking university in my field. I have always believed that I was perhaps not their first choice, and someone must have decided not to move to Seattle, and hence I got admission. It may or may not be true, but that is not the point. It shows how I never had the conviction that I could be somebody’s first choice.

Then when I got another acceptance for a PhD four years later, in a public ivy school very well known internationally, I had the same sinking feeling once again. I thought that they saw my previous school’s credentials and assumed that I am good, but they do not know that I am not that competent. I write this with a lot of sadness. I struggled through the fear that someday, my adviser would find out that I was ordinary, and be utterly disappointed.

I finished my PhD in 3 years. In 33 months actually. This shows that it had nothing to do with my mediocrity or luck. It was all hardcore hard work and dedication. The problem is that I did not believe enough in myself.

I have often wondered why I had such fears. Interestingly, I never had that fear in India. It started when I moved to the US. Also, I have this fear only with things related to my career. For my personal achievements, I don’t give two hoots about success and failure. But when it comes to career achievements, I feel that there is too much at stake. I wonder when and how I developed such a uni-dimensional trait. Think about it, I have achieved everything based on my abilities, and not any backing. I had no Godfathers in the field. Every college admission, every job I got was because of my own abilities. My advisers wrote me recommendation letters, but none of them used their contacts to get me a job. I have often asked myself, “Then why?”

With time, I grew conscious about it. So every time I would see myself achieving something and belittling my achievements, I would check my thoughts. It might have to do with personal identity. In the US, I never had role models who are like me. What do I mean when I say, like me? I mean, single, Indian, immigrant female. When I met immigrants, they were not single. When I met single women, they were not immigrants. And if they are single and immigrants, they are male. Your personal identity goes a long way in shaping how you see, or do not see yourself. I wish that instead of feeling what I felt, I told myself that yes, I deserve to be here, in this field, succeeding and making a name for myself, and I am not going anywhere.

So why am I writing this? Because I did the same thing today. My dissertation has been selected as among the top three in the US, in my focus area. I was not expecting it at all. So my first sub-conscious thought when I read the congratulatory email was, “They must have sent me the email by mistake.” Immediately, I checked my thoughts. I realized that once again, I was letting myself be a victim of impostor syndrome. None of the selection committee members know me personally, and it is impossible that they are doing me a favor by giving me this recognition. I have been selected in the top three, but they give only one award. So next month, they will let me know if I won it. It is a big honor. Yet momentarily, I forgot about all the hard work and dedication I put in my dissertation. I forgot how I strove to be the best, and produced a quality manuscript. Writing a 300 page document was no fun, but I forgot all about it. Instead, all I thought was, “Perhaps they sent me the email by mistake.” Later, I was pretty mad at myself for feeling that way. The conscious, saner side of me was rebuking the darker side for belittling my achievements all the time. It is as if I am my own enemy, seldom recognizing that I am capable of reaching professional milestones.

So this is for all of you like me, who suffer from impostor syndrome. Believe in what you achieve, and do not attribute your success to anything other than your own hard work. And learn to celebrate your success. It is so important, although I am guilty of not doing it. 

On a different note, I always felt bad that I do not have an "Awards" section in my CV. I have never really won any awards, barring winning a science quiz in the sixth grade (that I participated in because I had a crush on one of the boys), and a Sanskrit calligraphy competition in the seventh grade. I often eyed the awards section of my colleagues' CV with greed. You can imagine, being selected the top three was equivalent to winning the Miss. Universe crown for me (and I did not even have to lie about how I am going to save the planet, and donate all my money to the needy).  

They will let me know next month. If I win, I will be presenting my research at the conference in a few months. And even if I do not win, I get to start a new “Awards and Honors” section in my CV, and add a line there. I’m almost tempted to do a happy dance as I write this.

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Des-Pair

The pair had remained together for almost four years now. Then, in a series of commonplace events, they were separated. Not once, but twice in a span of twenty four hours. Unfortunately, the second time, there was no opportunity for reunion.

The first evening, they were dining at a restaurant. It was not until she reached for the car door, fastened the seatbelt, and drove off that she realized one of her gloves was missing. Black and leathered, she loved it for years because of the way it fit snugly. The woolen ones usually did not endure rain or snow, but this one did, and she held on to it for years. She told him the moment she realized the right one was missing. He had instantly swerved the car and driven back to the restaurant they had dined at not even an hour ago. She was grateful, although she kept it to herself. Once there, she went inside looking for it, and the server told her that he had found nothing. They looked in the parking lot and the nearby streets as well. He even went out of the way looking for it in the freezing wintry night. But her black glove seemed to have disappeared in the darkness. Disheartened and cold, she drove back. It was while locking the car door that he had the insight to look inside the car. It was particularly dark, and she was thrilled when he had emerged from her side of the car holding her right glove. She had dropped it in the car and never found it.

The next evening, he had taken her around New York City, showing her places he liked. She had never really cared for the city, but she liked what she saw on that cold wintry evening. The city was shrouded in white after the snowstorm, and she was surprised to see that people moved on with their life despite the chilly winds and the freezing weather. The city definitely had a personality, people dressed fashionably, and during the few hours they walked, she was amazed to see hundreds of varieties of black winter coats, jackets, and boots. They walked in the snow, enjoyed some great food, warmed up to some aromatic coffee at one of the local coffee joints, and it was soon time to say goodbye even before she was ready to leave. The subway was somewhat crowded, and she saw the train enter the station at a distance. In a hurry, she subconsciously ungloved her right hand to pull out the ticket from her handbag in haste. It was not until the train started that she realized her right hand was bare. They were about to say goodbye, but she had looked at him helplessly, and the next moment, they had gotten off the train at the next station. It was not possible to get into the other side of the platform that easily, so they climbed back the stairs, got outside the freezing streets, waited for the traffic signal, crossed the road amongst the slush of water and ice puddles, found another subway outlet, and had made their way to the station, this time in an opposite direction. The train arrived, they boarded it, got off the next station, got outside, crossed the streets, and after about twenty minutes of taking trains and crossing streets, they were back at the point where she thought she lost her glove. Only, there was no glove to be found this time. They looked everywhere, on the platform, near the ticket swiping machine, even in the trash cans. He asked the lady at the ticket counter if someone had dropped off a missing glove. Only there was no finding it this time. She was feeling guilty for getting him late, and thankful for all the effort he had taken. She got fresh tickets and boarded the next train, holding on to her lone glove now.

The incident evoked her philosophical thoughts on her journey back home. Losing something that belonged to you was always saddening, no matter how inexpensive it was. However, the pain was somewhat worse when you lost something you had in pairs. A lot of memories get embedded in the process of possessing things, and of course there is this guilt associated with losing things, voices in your head blaming you for being careless, voices of your parents, teachers, and elders reprimanding you every time you lost a pen or a penny. But more than the guilt of being careless, it was the sadness evoked out of seeing a pair separated. She held on to the other glove, which was now useless to her. She would soon replace it with a new pair, and knowing her, she would not have the heart to throw the old one away. It would probably sit in her cupboard for the next few years, not having a use. She often misplaced her eye liners and eye pencils, but she never felt guilty about them. However, every time she misplaced an earring, she felt horrible about it. It was the pain that came with the separation of a pair. She wondered where her other pair was now, perhaps brazening the ice and being stomped over by people somewhere on the streets.

Sometimes, it is easier to get over the loss of something just by being single, compared to the pain and distress of losing something as a pair. No matter how well you move on to do great things in life on your own, make new bonds, see new places, and attain new heights, your other half always takes with them a little bit of you, of your memories, and of your life, leaving you a little empty inside, and forever reminding you that life would perhaps been a little different, maybe in a good way or in a bad way, if fate had not connived in a series of events to separate you. Your losses as a pair always outweigh your individual losses. Looking back, she could have perhaps been more careful with her glove. She could perhaps have not removed it. She could perhaps have not cared about missing the train, taking her own sweet time to ensure she was holding on to everything she possessed. In retrospective theory, you can replay the events as many ways as you want to. In practice, you just move on with your losses, your pains, and nothing more but a handful of perspectives.

sunshine

Feeling writing

It has been more than 6 years since blogging happened to me. Even after all these years, someone appreciating my writing, saying a few nice words, liking or sharing a post on Facebook, or getting me published always thrills me. Hence this post.

I have always taken my writing seriously. That is one of the few things I enjoy doing. In my professional life, I do one of the two- I either run statistical analysis, or write. Someone told me the other day, “You don’t feel stats, you just do it. But you feel writing.”, I was taken aback by the honesty in what my friend had said. True, I do stat because I need to earn my living, I need to finish my Ph.D. on time, get published, find a job, and accomplish. That doesn’t mean stat thrills me. Writing does.

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United (Airlines) We Stand

Dog tired. Dehydrated and feverish. Too exhausted to think and too eager to get home. The long journey had not exactly been a smooth ride. Occasional air pockets. The chicken for lunch at the airport that could be mistaken for leather. The constant fear of dying midair after reading a book about the exact mechanism by which people die during an air crash. The well built man on my left, whose occasional and unintentional brush of the femur sent faint shivers down my spine.

Long flights were not my forte. I would be too glad to reach home, ensconced in the familiar comforts of my bed. After a wait of a few hours, I was only too happy to be able to catch the last leg of my flight back home. I heard an announcement that didn’t exactly ring warning bells first. The flight was overbooked, and they were looking for volunteers to take the flight the next day. In exchange of wasting my time, they would compensate me with a travel voucher of $400, plus free accommodation for the night. Naah, the offer did not seem lucrative enough to tempt me. Spending the night in a hotel, with the knowledge that my luggage had reached somewhere before I did, and was lying unsupervised, and the hassle of clearing security again, wasn’t good enough to tempt me to volunteer to take the next flight. Why did you overbook your flight dear United Airlines? Don’t you always do it? Last time, you were going around offering almost double the amount, begging people to stop their work and be jobless enough to spend nights in hotels. Why were you so greedy?

No one volunteered. Which responsible person with work commitments would? The boarding started, and I confidently walked toward the aircraft. They scanned my boarding pass, and there, the familiar beep of the scanner was playing out of tune. This is not exactly the chord you sing in, dear scanner. They asked me to step aside, as if I was a convict. It seemed I was a few of the “chosen ones” who would not be allowed to take the flight that day. Since I did not volunteer to miss my flight, the system did a random search to see who had paid less for their tickets, or who had booked their flight long back. I was paying a price for planning my trip early enough, because that is how I paid less for my ticket according to them. This wasn’t good news.

To cut a long story short, they did several things that did not seem right. The women at the counter were curt and rude, and cared least about my work priorities. They did not oblige even when repeatedly asked about what was happening, and why was I picked not to board the flight. Wait, this gets even more interesting. My luggage was already in the plane, and the lady looked at me accusatorily when I asked if I could at least have my luggage, because I did not have any change of clothes with me, and because I was not comfortable with the idea of my bags lying unsupervised for the night. She rudely asked me if she wanted to stop the plane, take out all the suitcases, and find mine, as if I was responsible for my luggage making into the flight, when I was not allowed to. Then she just asked me to sign somewhere, and gave me a gift voucher of $400. Note, when I asked if I could have cash instead, she refused, with her “take it or leave it” tone. Basically, she was giving me a voucher to be redeemed within the next 1 YEAR ONLY on another UNITED AIRLINE FLIGHT ONLY. So if I had pneumonia and could not fly for a year, or if I decided to fly somewhere United Airlines did not fly, for example, directly to Kolkata, my voucher was doomed. I later came home and did some reading, only to understand that the customer has the right to information. Here is what their website says,

“If you are involuntarily denied boarding and have complied with our check-in and other applicable rules, we will give you a written statement that describes your rights and explains how we determine boarding priority for an oversold flight. You will generally be entitled to compensation and transportation on an alternate flight.”

Another website claims the following:

“The airlines are obligated to offer you either a travel voucher *or* cash compensation (in the form of cash or check) up to a certain value … Most people are unaware that the airlines have to give you that compensation in cash if you so wish. In fact, most gates leave off that little nugget of information in hopes you’ll simple take what they’re offering as a voucher. And most do.”

No wonder they did not bother to explain me my rights, and I would obviously not be reading stuff off the internet the moment they denied to board me.

They offered me a hotel voucher too, a hotel outside the airport. How I got to the hotel, and how much I spent on transportation, was not their headache. Thankfully, I was a few hours driving distance from home, and sometime during my life, I had done myself a favor by learning to drive. Hence I politely declined their hotel voucher, and rented a car out of my pocket. It was more important that I reached home, than stay at a hotel or at the airport for the night. I drove for the next few hours, picked up my luggage abandoned at the airport (unlike their claims that someone would keep an eye on my bags, they were lying unsupervised at the airport), and reached home long past midnight.

United Airlines, you were not flying me in for free, were you? What kind of a service was this, especially after I was denied boarding? I had heard the story of United Airlines breaking guitars (do watch the very enlightening video). If I was creative enough and had the time, I would not just write a song, I would make a movie out of the episode.

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