Sunday, January 16, 2011

A Spring Memory

It was the fifth of December 2005 and I was flying into the Salt Lake City international airport. It was a cold, dreary afternoon and the next 2 months would come to mark a most crucial and extraordinary time of my life.  There are moments that everyone experiences – moments of realization and clarity – rare to come by but instantly recognizable.  As the airplane touched the tarmac, I knew I was having one of those moments – and it terrified me.  I realized that everyone connected to me – my parents, friends – had done all that they could, to get me to this point – and from here on it was up to me - I was alone – truly and completely alone. It was the first time, I’d felt myself so vulnerable and scared. 

After failing to secure tuition funding for the first two semesters at my University, I had accrued a massive debt and when it was clear to me that no financial help was to come, I decided it was time for me to look elsewhere.  I looked at the list of universities that had accepted me, but which I had declined.  Long conversations with alumni and emails from faculty led me to believe that Utah State University was my best shot at short-term financial security. Like many decisions in life, it was one that wasn’t necessarily the best option – but the one that made most sense under circumstances. I had to live with it – and make my best of it.

The struggles and debates of the past six months played out in my mind as I sat in the window seat – peering distractedly at the changing landscape of eastern United States.  To sum up – I had roughly $500 in a bank account and an admission – period.  My list of supplies ended there.  I didn’t have any money to pay for tuition (9 graduate credits minimum) – hardly any money for rent and certainly none for an emergency.  My phone was still active for another month and the 500 would get me through for as much time – as I checked off the short list with a growing sense of foreboding, I felt like a role playing video game character with depleted resources and one life left. Except, there weren’t any replays here.  The frigid teen degree air of Utah brought me back to reality. Having grown up in Mumbai – it was the first time I had felt anything remotely so cold.  I cursed my ill-fitted clothing and rummaged hastily through the carry-on – wearing every piece of shirt I could find.  Twenty minutes later, I was standing outside in the pick up area – awkward looking and with a frozen expression of worry on my countenance.

Utah State University - My Alma Mater - image credit - http://www.ridingandwritingutah.com

I checked myself into a friends place – the local Indian Student Institute was kind enough to board me for a week with some seniors – after an unexciting dinner, I forced myself to sleep – then I woke up – took off 3 shirts – turned up the heat a notch – and went back to sleep again.  There was a LOT of work ahead!

The next day, I took a bus to the campus and within an hour was interviewing for a grader’s job in the Computer Science department.  I got the job, it paid only $513 a month, but it waived my out of state tuition fee.  I thanked the professor dearly and asked the secretary for a signed copy of the job offer and its terms.  Next I scanned the student message board for some cheap apartments near campus and another three hours later found myself in the offices of Coldwell bankers signing a lease agreement. I put down the deposit and consciously informed the official that I could only give him a post-dated check for the rent.  My grader’s salary wasn’t due until the first of next month and I could only supply the offer letter as credence that the check would go through.  The property manager quietly reviewed the paper work and my offer letter – he had no obligation to entertain me – and I nervously waited for his decision.  Finally, looking up he extended a hand and gave me the apartment keys. I gingerly pocketed the keys and thanked the man – and offered my bank statement as proof that I really could not afford to pay rent immediately.  He assured me that it wasn’t needed and that he believed me. It would be one of the many unexpected acts of kindness from random strangers that I would never forget.

Snowcrest Apartments - Logan Utah

I arranged my belongings in the new space, and ate a bowl of cereal – after a few more minutes of sleep – I sat at the desk and jotted down a study schedule – to earn the tuition waiver and retain my status as a graduate student, I would need to clear three entrance examinations – failure to do so meant expulsion.  But I wasn’t going to let it come to that – not now. 

Over the next four weeks, I followed a strict regimen – waking up at 8am – going to the library  - studying for 4 hours – a sandwich for lunch – an hour of shut eye on the third floor – another four hours of study – coffee – sandwich for dinner – leave the library at 12 and walk back home to sleep.  No – they wouldn’t let me sleep at the library. I had asked. 


It would be months before I would be able to absorb and truly appreciate the grand vista of natural beauty and snow capped mountains that my library provided. Amidst my studies I talked to the registrars office and drew up a payment schedule for the remainder of my in-state tuition fees.  Again my University went out of its way to ensure that I still stayed enrolled in classes as I paid my way through - there aren't many institutions willing to do that. 

Some six weeks into my semester,  I was told that I had cleared the preliminary requirements and that I was also granted an in-state tuition waiver.  I received the news gladly – then went to the local Walmart – bought some groceries and came back home.  I left the bags on the kitchen counter – the apartment was empty – none of my two roommates were home.  Seizing the opportunity – I quietly slipped into the bathroom and turned on the sink and the shower taps. 

Then I sat myself on the bathroom floor – knees to the chest  - arms folded and said aloud – ‘hey – you are in your own apartment – you have groceries  - you have a steady income and you are doing well in school’ – and then I let myself feel – everything that I had been holding off – the terrifying crushing paralyzing fear – the full weight of my responsibilities – my own expectations – and the doubts of friends and foes – and above all – the overwhelming sense of relief at what was accomplished – and then I broke down – and cried quietly – cathartically – shaking – muffling – rocking back and forth – and then - finally exhausted and completely drained – I patted myself on the back – stood up – and made myself 2 scrambled eggs and toast.

Some couple years later, I ran wild across a green football ground – dressed in black robes – a tassel in my hand and the ecstasy of graduation in my veins – but I didn’t think of the bathroom floor then.  I don’t know why I thought of  it now. But its good that I did– it needn't kept in – I am OK now that its out. And I smile I say to myself – “Hey that was you – you did it !!“

- Sanket


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Monday, October 11, 2010

Conversations with the Mirror


[Image from - http://www.johncomeaux.com/2006/12/the_path_least_taken.html ]
I washed my face and looked up
Whats worrying you I asked ??
But, you already know - said the reflection
Its been long since I have heard you speak
Speak please and help me now.

Questions - it said - I have questions on my mind
I braced myself and gave a nod

How long since we've seen home?
How long since you last laughed ?
Time has flown fast
And the shadows of worry 
Have faded the ambers of your heart.

You are tied now
Tied with chains of responsibilities
You have travelled far and are walking still
But the journey has long stopped

Where is the spark that once shone these eyes 
Where is the hope that eclipsed all in flight 
Where is the boy - bright and fiery
Sure as an arrow on its mark 

I know all that needs to be done
And I know all that you must
But you can not go further on this path
Green pastures and certain meals
Are not for the wolves at heart

Act now and change the course
Or life will flow as it has flown 
And we will yet speak once more
And many years would have passed
The journey will in deed draw to its end
And you will have only this mirror
Mourning the regrets of your past

- Sanket

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Sunday, October 03, 2010

The skies above

A few days ago, NASA announced that we were going to get to see a 'Harvest Moon'. A 'Harvest Moon', comes only once every four years and a 'Super Harvest Moon' comes only once in a decade. Filled with excitement, I took out my little telescope and aimed it at our bright satellite - It took my breath away! I have seen the moon through a telescope - many times, I have even sat down observing, for hours the moon's contours and compared them with the maps I had. But till that night, I had never seen the moon so bright and so gorgeously luminous. The harvest moon revived, two of my dormant passions in a single night - that for star gazing and that for photography. The former more rewarding than the latter. 


[Image used under license agreements from - http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/78/Harvest_moon.jpg]


As I sat on the floor of my balcony, blackening my peripherals and breathing evenly to calibrate my instrument, I realized just how much I loved my little telescope. At the time I'd bought it, I had just finished my 10th grade exams, and had saved that entire year's pocket money in the hopes of buying myself a telescope. Finally when the money brimmed enough, I emptied the deposits and bought myself a starter refracting telescope. With the money left, I bought myself tickets to an astronomy show at the Nehru Planetarium and as always, astronomy mesmerized me and lifted my imagination to soaring heights.  

There is something so marvelous and so magical about watching celestial objects through a telescope - that in all honesty, I can not hope to capture it in words. If you have never seen the craters of the moon, or the rings of Saturn through a telescope - I beg you to take the time out and try it - just once, it will not fail to enthrall you! 

The first time I saw our Moon through my new telescope, it was the monsoon of '98. I had camped for the better part of an hour on the sheltered stairs of our building's terrace in the hope that the rains would stop - and I would get a chance to try out my new toy. Every now and then, I ventured out into the open and impatiently gazed at the sky to check if the cloud cover was dispersing. I hadn't been able to see the Moon - except find a bright spot in the sky veiling the shiny ball. 

At last when the rains stopped, I dashed out and dried myself a patch of ground and began to set up my telescope. My sister - a covert optimist - who had been waiting for my word, had already ran up the stairs many times trying to asses the success of my experiment - and along the way - had communicated as many reprimands from my parents for staying up that late.  I tried to ignore her while focussing my line of sight on the brightest spot I could find. Every now and then an edge would appear - giving me hopes that I might be able to get a clear window in the clouds  - just long enough to fine tune my focal length and render a sharp image. 

After a few persevering minutes, the wind finally picked up and the clouds started to dart faster. Every time I got a peek at the moon, I would adjust my telescope a bit more. My sister  - realizing that I hadn't heard a word she said, sensed that I was onto something and decided to wait until I erupted with shouts of success. 

And then  - at last the skies heard my prayers and I found a clearing in the clouds - long enough to follow the moon and explore its surface. It was a crescent moon. While a full moon has its own beauty, it is the crescent moon that gives the best opportunity to see its craters.  The view through my eye piece was quite simply magnificent! I played with all the lenses available to me and finally settled on the one giving me the sharpest image. I hurriedly called my sister to take a peek. She was suitably impressed. Then, adopting a big brotherly, knowing tone, I told her to hold steady and study every crater she could feast her eyes on. "Never forget what an amazing site you are getting to see, it was that shadow on the moon that taught us that the world was round" 

The night of the Harvest Moon, I realized just how much of that passion had been eroded in the course of normal life! I had forgotten how - just a tiny glimpse of the night sky had the capacity to tell profound stories. 

A simple glimpse of the moon has the power to take us millions of years backward in time - and show us how it accumulated the craters on its face. It is also the single most practical image that can give us an appreciation of how big the earth is and it also serves to remind us that while our feet may be planted strongly on the ground - the planet on which we stand - is itself suspended in space like all other heavenly bodies we see. 


[Image used from - http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a8/NASA-Apollo8-Dec24-Earthrise.jpg]

The night sky has, for thousands of years - inspired us to dream, it has compelled us to face who we are and judge our place in the Universe. It has led our ancestors to associate stellar patterns with the events of our lives. It has guided lost travelers across vast deserts to their destinations - as surely as it has guided human destiny toward science. In a world so twisted with deliberations over GOD and marred with whose GOD is right , it is actually the closest one can get to the divine. 

It reminds us just how infinitesimal we are - and how short-lived are our lives. It reminds us to be grateful for the home we are given and implores us to own our planet.  Our little blue planet, our beloved Earth, precious and fragile, beautiful and one of a kind. A marble of dream in a rather violent sky!

- Sanket

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Monday, July 05, 2010

Rains!

I woke up and looked out the window. I looked out the window through half shut eyes and I sighed. It was going to be a difficult day. It was raining outside! As I slowly claimed my conscious, I could hear the faint rumble of clouds and a familiar drizzle outside. Ribbons of liquid stained the glass - twisting the images and distorting my reality. I woke up and stepped out to the patio and let myself be soaked - soaked with wave after wave of cold water. And against my will the water washed away my numbness bringing afresh the longing, love and lust - I had so carefully buried away. 


[Image used in accordance of copyright regulations - http://commons.wikimedia.org]


Rains have a way with me. I was born and raised in Bombay - where rains are the life of music and music is the life of our bodies. The bond between rains and our rhythms is deeper, more mysterious and more intricate than anyone can fathom. It reflects - in part India's dependence on monsoons and in part its need to create art. Art to express that which we wish but we can't. Over thousands of years of evolution the rain drops have absorbed themselves into our culture. They fuel the breaths of our soul as much as our blood fuels the beats of our heart. 

In the west as the countries industrialized and reduced their dependence on seasons so did they lose their connect with nature. In India, that connect survives as a faint but distinct hue in our identity. Hence while people in the west have lost their fascination with rains - in India - they still hold sway. 

Years ago the farmers from barren villages gathered and prayed to the skies. They begged and pleaded - they scolded and cajoled the clouds above. To this day the first rains are celebrated with the same relief and joy  as those parched voices did upon a barren soil. The rains are an innate part of our films and our songs. Even today they behold and move us - a whispered reminder of a time when masters like Tansen would sing Malhar and command the heavens to cry. 

I stand drenched and wet and cold and let myself go. The rains have a mind of their own ....

Rains, Rains - 
These rains carry with them many memories and times. 
They have  a way of entering your hearts
They thrill you and play with your thoughts
Drop per drop they symbolize and encapsulate the elixir of life.
They fall from the sky and unite on the earth.
They are precious they are dear.
They are transient they are immortal. 
Some drip as scented pearls from a girl's hair. 
Some glisten as beads of sweat in passion. 
Some trickle as salted rivulets of sorrow 
Some remain untold and veiled behind silent eyes
Some relish, as drinks of pleasure from a lover's lips 
While some are drunk as poison in anger, anguish and hurt 

Rains, Rains these rains, they have a mind of their own
I am swept clean now, I stand exhausted, spent 
The rains have brought me back to life 
They are my repent, and they have let me absolve
A part of my past ....

 - Sanket

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Sunday, June 27, 2010

How are you ??

The phone has messages says the blinking red light
I should probably check - they keep gathering
The laundry is past due - clothes overflowing the basket
Strewn wrinkled worn but not touched

Hunger knocks but I'd rather make coffee
I head to the kitchen and then withdraw hastily
The sink is filled - when was the last time I cooked ?
Oh yeah! That dinner with friends …… a faint memory

I head out to get food
They stare at the world outside
These bugs on my windshield 
staring at the world 
This world - moving changing 
moving on till everythings changed 

it is night now - a sunday night 
work is tomorrow - I should sleep
yet I am fascinated with the clock
4:05 AM tick tick tick …..

I get into the shower - the water is cold 
I shiver and yet, wish to feel it more
Oh it has been so long 
The numbness has begin to hurt 
I run the water harder 
Hoping it drowns the sobs 

Monday afternoon and I take a break ..
"Hey! How are you?" says a friend
I didn't notice or may be I refuse to
"Are you ok ?"
"I am fine" -  I say 

I am staring at the coffee 
It is going cold ..

 - Sanket


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