MASTER & THE CONUNDRUM - I

It has been a while since I posted anything here. In fact, it has been a while since either of us posted anything here. I assume most of you know that I was kicked out of the house way back in August. My homies were obviously tired of entertaining me for last 20 something years & knowing that my dismal performance in studies led to abysmal performance in job related interviews; the only logical choice was to punish me for my deeds. A brief meeting was called sometime last year & it was decided that the only way in which I could redeem myself was by pursuing further education & by that they meant a masters’ degree not just from anywhere but a Masters from a country which God always blesses – America!

Fast-forward 1 year & here I am in some University in some state of US of A.

Before sending me off though, there were words of advice from my family.

My parents told me to study hard & reminded me how expensive education in the States is so it would be better if I could score good marks & get a scholarship or something like that. All I wanted to say to them was, “if you know how expensive education is in the States, can’t you make arrangements for a punishment which is financially not that hard on me given the fact that I’ll be the one paying for the education loan!!!”

My grand mom had no interest where I was heading but kept on harping upon the same string; her string being, “Pete, don’t fall in love with a girl who does not belong to our caste, creed & community!!!” Her words were more of a sucker-punch because

a) From what I know, there are hardly any girls from my caste/creed who are single
b) Girls from my caste/creed/community get hooked up quickly because they are intelligent, smart, brilliant cooks, good home-makers & yes…good looking too.
c) Due to the exceptional qualities mentioned above, guys from other caste/creed are the first ones to go after them & they succeed with minimal efforts (dunno how!)
d) If at-all there are any single girls from my cult left in USA, I am 100% sure they won’t be studying in the university I study in
e) You know I don’t know where to stop when I talk to girls if at-all I manage to start talking to them in the first place. So, “me” finding the “right one” yet “special one” is like England winning EURO 2008.
f) Whatever happened to secularism?

On the contrary, my aunts somehow managed to ask the same set of questions; as if they were communicating with each other thru’ telepathy just to check whether I was really going there to study or was going on a vacation, their question being:-

“Where exactly are you heading? As in; where? Which country? Which state? Which city? Which county? Why? How?”

The only thing I could surmise from these 20-questions was either they were so keen to know where I was heading so that they could come visit me during my vacations or that they wanted to keep in touch with me via mails so that I can be of some help when their kids are ready for “further studies”. Not that my aunts are bad…but just a thought.

Finally, it was my college friends’ turn. None of my school mates could come since they had already left for the promise land. During their three hour stay at my place, all we did was remember the good times we had during our four miserable years of college. Oh, they also emptied 5 bags of chips & 4 bottles of colas. When they were about to leave, they gifted me a swanky wrist-watch & made me swear that not only I bring each of them a watch when I come back to India but also update them my score every quarter. YOU GUYS…….!@#$%^&!!!!

When D-day arrived, my mom couldn’t control her emotions & the tears just wouldn’t stop flowing. This led to some kind of chain re-action due to which my dad, cousins, grandparents & aunts started crying too. I was the only one in my house with a dumbfounded look on my face so I switched on the T.V & started watching re-run of some old cricket match. It was the angry look on my dad’s face that made me realize that I hadn’t yet finished my packing & it was almost departure time. Eventually, we managed to pack everything in three suitcases: clothes, spices, utensils, groceries, ready-to-eat items, shoes, socks, towels, dishes, cleaning agents & what not. Things didn’t end there. My beloved aunts had prepared eatables which I had to take as a “don’t forget us” token (I told you they were all nice…I don’t castigate my relatives, get it!) and the zippers on all of my bags were just about holding it together. Eventually, I had to wear 2 sets of socks, t-shirts & undergarments so that the airline would not charge me for over-weight luggage. Not to mention a blazer & a jacket. Wow! August is so chilly & cold in INDIA isn’t it???

Approximately twenty people came to see me off at the airport. While I was travelling in my car, one cab led the way & another one followed us. Two motorcycles were already clearing the traffic for me. Had there been few more people and some music, this would have definitely looked like a “Ganpati Visarjan” procession. They were taking me to an ocean to immerse me for sure!!!!

After final few minutes with my family, I thanked everyone for coming & waved them goodbye. Everyone wished me luck & a Bollywood style dialogue summed it up, “Pete, don’t forget us!!!”

On my way in, I saw my family & well-wishers through the glass door. They were sobbing. I couldn’t. All I could do was flash my teeth & wave at them. Then I proceeded towards the vestibule. Before I went through the security check, I turned around for one last time. This time though, they were laughing, smiling…some even dancing. Some feeling proud, some feeling “heh heh heh…good riddens”. Somehow I got this feeling that it was my time to sob soon.



- Peteboy

(This is part-1 of a three part mini series where the blogger wishes to share his experiences as he goes on to chase his so called dreams. )