A Rajdhani Experience

A journey on any of the trains of the Indian railway is always a very revealing experience. I was travelling by train for the first time in almost a year and had one of the best times of my life. Here is the entire narration:

I got on the train with just one bag and lots of expectation of a good nights sleep. As I was looking for my berth I saw at least half a dozen coolies ahead. I clutched my hands in prayer that they weren't crowded around my coupe and braved on ahead. As I approached the coupe knowing full well by now that they were indeed on my turf I attempted a weak smile. Now, it wasn't the site of the coolies (porters) that made me nervous but the implication that half a dozen porters meant that there were at least a dozen bags. I was wrong there were 16 pieces of luggage. A couple who had two berths had taken up the place meant for the luggage of eight people.

I settled into the little seat that they had graciously cleared for me. Feeling a little annoyed and trying to inspire the zen in me I pulled out a book and started reading. Gradually the other five people started appearing one by one. The first a lecherous, young college student. Kept smiling at me like we shared some kind of secret joke. I am quite sure this was the first time I was seeing him and there was nothing remotely funny about having the Great Wall of Baggage around me.

Then came a family with two cute little girls. One of them seemed to take an immediate liking towards me. I have to admit I was flattered. I am glad I did not encourage it much further because moments later she was coughing up phlegm at an alarming rate. Her mom proceeded to clean her up and dry the cloth on one of the seats.

The rest of the journey was uneventful if such a thing is possible on a train ride between the two silicon cities. What struck me the most was the level of tolerance we have developed. Is it tolerance or patience or just genuine understanding of someones predicament. Not one person complained about the suitcases. In fact not one of them looked remotely mad about it either. They started up a friendly banter. At some point when one of the little girls (the one that liked me) got whacked by her mom the college student came to her rescue. I can tell you this much - she did not need rescuing. At the end of my journey the guy also helped me down with the minimal luggage I had trying to glean every little bit of information he could from me. I have been in a room full of people at parties. But there could not be more warmth there than there was between eight random strangers in this B2 coupe of the Rajdhani Express.

This World of Contrasts

Here I am - working in IIM Bangalore. The campus itself is idyllic. Its green, clean, huge and made of stone. The architecture is beautiful and people are very smart (some are under the age of 21.) Most students here are training to be leading professionals in their fields in life though I doubt that between their undergraduate institute (IIT mostly) and here they have had much time at all to think about what they really want to do.

Step outside and you will find broken pavements, open drains, cows roaming around in the muck of the drains, honking buses and beggars. This is your first contrast. Some distance away from IIM is a huge building that is the training center for at least 1000 tailors- all women. Sharply at 5.00 P.M. everyday these women stream out into the streets. There is the second contrast.

Unlike US universities that try to milk the students as much as they can while in school here everything is relatively cheap. The fees are about $16,000 for two years. This is inclusive of living too. Food for students in the mess is free and delicious. Others can get a meal in the canteens for Rs 15 which is about 1/3rd of a dollar and tea/coffee for Rs 4 which is roughly 1/10th of a dollar. Given that most students once they are out of the Institution make about $60,000/annum after taxes n India you would think that they would be heavily penalized while they were studying. But that's another contrast between this world and the west.

The crowd in IIT is relatively homogeneous. Engineers, Economists and Mathematicians abound. Most students have PPO's or pre-placement offers to join some foreign firm in a very respectable position. Given the world outside - recession in the US, bailout in Greece and austerity measures in the rest of Europe you would think that India is in some parallel universe of its own. Jobs are (for the first time) not scarce. Almost everyone from a trainee tailor to an MBA student has a future to look forward to. This is the best contrast. All power to youngistan :)

For my Dida

I started writing this out as a toast to my difficult life in Monterey and changed my mind to write about someone who knew what the word difficult really meant- my Dida (grandmother). She passed away two years ago on my birthday. It was a really difficult time for my family as they watched her struggle with cancer in the final stages. But this is not to talk about her pain but about the spirit of endurance that she instilled in all her children, a filtered down version of which is now a very strong part of my life.

Dida ended her formal education at the age of 9 when she came away to India as a refugee from Bangladesh (erstwhile Pakistan). She lived with her half-brothers. She looked after their children who were the same age as her. Her future looked bleak with her family still in Bangladesh and no one to give her the kind of looking after a child needed. I am told she was offered a role to act in a very popular Bengali movie opposite Uttam Kumar However her brothers would not let her take up acting because it was a disgraceful career.

Her elder sister found my Dida a suitable boy, my grandfather- who is the furthest thing from suitable even at this age! They got married and three kids followed in quick succession. My grandfather who was in the air-force had a quick temper and never hesitated raising hands on the kids. It was my Dida's quiet tenacity that acted as a balm to her kids.

As a grandmother I remember her being tireless. She would do everything to spoil everyone in the family and never ever asked for anything in return. My grandfather never gave her anything apart from the bare minimum required for sustaining the family and Dida managed to save something to give each of us - she would buy us little gifts as children. She is one of the most imaginative people I ever met. She would tell me about the constellations on balmy nights on the terrace. She would take me on boat rides across the Ganga every time I went to her house. She would take me to the kitchen and teach me Bengali delicacies.

She had the best sense of humour and even in my post-surgery condition she managed to make me laugh. That is saying something!

The house my grandparents lived in was called Gitasha. A conjunction of her name and the noun Asha (meaning hope.) Her house was her hope, something she never expected my grandfather to make a reality. Her elder son did make it a reality.

I get the first part of my name from her - Gita. If you inverse the syllables it becomes - Tyagi phonetically (meaning sacrificer.) Her name as well as her spirit live on in me. In a way she is my role model right up there with Gandhi. I wish I had known her better.

Something fall apart, somethings make you hold, somethings that you find all beyond your control

He left on the 15th and for one intense day I realized how madly I do love him. I never thought I would grow old so soon. But I could not have chosen better arms to grow old in.

I woke up to a really bad dream. I read some really old and sad emails. I did everything I should not do when I am sitting alone and need to get out and get some company. I just wanted something to make me cry and howl because I couldn't cry at the airport or on the caltrain.

Then I realized that I didn't want to cry because the memories we shared and the hopes we have are so bright. I realized that this was just a preview of the movie the rest of our lives could be. I realized that no one encourages me the way he does and I would not be the same person I am without him.

Its Been a While

I just watched the movie "Gandhi" and it stirred such strong emotions in me. The kind of feelings I remember feeling as a turbulent, hormonal, rebellious teenager. It was great. I have been looking for an idol forever. I think I just found mine. I wouldn't marry him but I would definitely worship him.

That being said, I am trying to incorporate some of his teachings in my lifestyle. Simple things like being satisfied with what I have, coveting less and performing more. Its the hardest thing for me to be still and be patient.

Also, the goal I had set myself, of reading at least one non-course related book every month seems to have collapsed like a souffle around my mad schedule. Grapes of Wrath was the last book and if I am not wrong it has been more than a month I picked up another book. I need to get my mind in order to be able to handle more material.

So far school has been good to me with nothing but A's in all my classes. Ok ok, I am allowed to boast a little in my own blog :)

Cheers to a new start

Its been a month since I got to the USA. I have been looking for the time and correct frame of mind to start writing about what it was for the otherwise anti-american to be in the one country in the world that I had promised I would never step on.

The one thing that I realised about the American experience is that it is made up of the people you meet and befriend. In that sense my first week in the US was dismal. I knew just one person and school had not yet started so I had no hope of meeting anyone new. I had a good mind to get on the next flight back to India!

Two weeks later I was loving my friends, my school and some of the classes. I am still settling down. I need to get used to getting groceries regularly and start cleaning up after myself. I also need to start exercising. I need to get down to some serious studying! All that apart it has been a great time and as Borat would have said "great success!"