When they show up just like that

I had only 1 hr 35 minutes layover in Dubai on my way back to Seattle. I was prepared for the race though. I made sure I got an isle seat closer to exit. I carried only one backpack to save exit time. As soon as we landed, I was ready to leave, and started pacing on the first chance.

I hurried past other passengers in the hall way to catch a glimpse on the gate from which my next flight was supposed to depart. It was B23. Then I started pacing towards the gate, trying my best to make optimum use of the travelators.  Who knows how far the gate is? And I am walking, and walking, and walking, and the gate does not show up! Although I was sure I had enough time at hand, I did not want to delay. It still showed on the sign board that B gates are straight ahead. I kept crossing crowd of people strolling around the shops, and dodging them on my way. My legs started hurting and I was trying to motivate myself, "next turn", "hold on a little more", "after that pillar", "don't panic".  I would stop by the flight sign boards, and it showed my flight was already "currently boarding". I was confused. From my mental calculation, I still had about 20 minutes for boarding to start. "What's going on? Did I lose track of time? Damn, there is no clock around here." I wanted to turn on WiFi, but thought it would be better just to walk fast. Did not have patience to do mental math of the time difference between Indian and UAE. Finally the B series of gates started. I crossed one gate after another with lot of pep talk until I arrived at my gate.

There were not many people. Weird! I reach at the counter, and the agent wants to see my boarding pass. I ask, "Can I get some water  and be back in 5 mintues?" He says, "Boarding is almost finished. You better get in." "Whaat!", I say to myself, but meekly show my documents to proceed towards the gate.  Once I go downstairs, I understand what the real deal is. There is another custom/security check, where they open up your bag and check your contents, scan your laptops, mobile phones (hmm... I remembered just then that they skipped that check when I moved out of my arrivals), and then there is a huge hall in which all the passengers were sitting. I finished my security check, and took a seat. I was not able to receive WiFi, and was worried about connecting with my family. I asked a fellow passenger, but she did not know. Damn! As I am looking down trying to connect to WiFi, somebody calls me, "Swagatika!". I shift my attention towards the caller, and the person is standing right in front of me. I look up. And it is a senior from IIIT! I was so excited! 

All my worry and sense of rush vanished in a moment. I gave her a big hug. She was my  senior in IIIT, and I always looked up to her and asked her for advice whenever I needed. When I left IIIT, she had gifted me a sketchbook in which I had sketched her. But I never took the sketchbook with me to USA until this return trip. As I was packing the sketchbook in  my bag, I thought, "I will contact her after I go back to Seattle." And here she was standing right in front of me! Boarding started soon enough, and we boarded the flight. I could use her phone to connect to WIFI and reach my family too. Thank God! Once we got down, we chatted on our way back through security and custom. She was visiting Seattle on a short visit for job interview. We met again for short time and I showed her around Seattle Spheres, and we had heartfelt conversation on many topics during that period. It was great connecting with on of my idols, and her encounter was nothing short of any beautiful surprise! 

As I bode farewell to her, I thought to myself, "I am gonna be happy for next two days :) "  You don't meet amazing people everyday. And reuniting with them by chance is even more rare. It was definitely one of my lucky encounters.

The egoistic person detector

One of the benefits of moving to USA, making a decision to move into a studio despite my apprehensions, is the amazing experience of meeting with people from all different walks of life. I get to meet people from different countries, ethnicities, professions, linguistic backgrounds, age-groups. Talking to other people, and learning about them has been as boon in many ways. I not only learn about them, but also about myself.

One of the many lessons I have learned on the way, is to understand someone's personality from a brief encounter. I have noticed that everybody likes being asked about themselves. I usually ask people about them out of curiosity and many stories build from there.

Then the conversation that follows from the initial small talk defines a pattern. Typically, there are two types of patterns that I observed.

First, the non-talkers. They do not encourage communication. You ask them, they respond. They don't ask anything in return, and the conversation stops there. This acts as a sign not to badger them anymore.

The second category, obviously, is the the talkers. They generally get enthusiastic and ask a question back and conversation flows from there through the exchange of questions and answers.

Although these two types define the course of interaction in the next few minutes or hours, it does not always define their personality types. Everyone can fall into any of these categories depending on the topic, their mood, and various other intangible factors.

However, recently, I am noticing a third pattern. And I am almost reaching to a conclusion that this relates to a person's personality type. Lets dissect the third type.

These people, are not interested in asking you a question. You ask them questions. They do give you a response, but form then onward, it is all about them. Whenever their answer ends, it ends with "Ask me another question", and the cycle goes on until either time is off or the questioner does not have any questions left to ask. These people, my friends, are "egoistic people", who are not going to ask you a question, unless they consider you superior to them, and the whole conversation is going to be either about them, or about how you should fix yourself.

The moment I realized this, it was my "Aha! moment". I felt I like I found my secret detector, that I can carry all the time. Now onward, if you want to detect an egoistic person in your first meeting, just ask them a question, and sit back and enjoy the drama being unfolded. You will get your answer within few minutes.

 

It's getting all philosophical

On a Friday evening, four of us went out for dinner. Then we walked to a hilltop to watch the sunset from the other corner of the city. The sunset was beautiful.... Sun hid beneath the clouds, emanating its rays in all beautiful colors, and was slowly receding behind the mountains.

We had a bird's eye view of the city too, a highway running right below the hilltop, and our eyes were drawn to the mesh of roads spanning north-south and east-west, a straight line leading upto KeyArena, the beautiful Space Needle, complimenting the evening sky, the hilly terrain, houses, skyscrapers, commercial buildings, all together. The cars zooming past the highway were leaving behind a low frequency noise...zoom...zoom....zoom...

And as we savoured the scene, the following conversation took place among us..

First person: When I see this highway, I wonder how this all looked before this!

Second person: All these cars running on the highway.... why are they always running?

Third person: Some are running away from something, some are running towards something.

First person: Why do they have to keep running? Why can't they be happy where they are?

Fourth person: This is all getting philosophical ...

Then we stared at the beautiful view again :)

Day out in a hilly neighborhood

Last evening, I went on a walk with my friends, in a hilly neighborhood of the town. 

I saw beautiful, decorated, quaint, brick buildings invoking nostalgia.

I saw tall, glossy, smug-looking buildings spanning the skyline, inspiring awe and submission.

I peeked into a balcony decorated with beautiful red Chinese lanterns, and beautiful potted plants precariously, yet aesthetically placed on the balcony railings.

I also saw a house whose balcony was filled with plants, the windowsill was decorated with beautiful indoor plants well-lit with an array of tube-lights.

I saw a telescope peeking to the sky from behind a glass wall from some star gazer's apartment.

I jumped under a cherry tree, shaking the branches and letting the petals shower on me.

I plucked a beautiful blue bell shaped flower with beautiful scent. They call it Bluebells, it seems.

I saw some dandelions, a few in full bloom, a few inviting to blow the seeding flower away.

There were some daffodils too, ever gorgeous, happy and diva-like.

I was curious about a cluster of bell shaped dark blue flowers, named Grape Hyacinths.

I saw the Sun hiding behind the clouds as he set into the night with all its colorful glory. I saw the cars racing through the highway with zooming speed.

I saw a homeless man scurrying along the footpath with all his possessions tightly packed in a shopping cart.

I saw night slowly embarking on the city sky. Yellow lights started to twinkle from the buildings, as well as zooming fast on the highway.

It was a nice day out in the hilly neighborhood.

my crude take on struggles of feminism: USA vs India

Yesterday, I had to rush to somewhere, so I took a cab for a short distance. The cab driver was Kenyan and seemed to be a gentleman. I have observed that my conversations with the cab drivers with middle-eastern or African origin tend to start with them saying, "Are you Indian?" (I can almost hear them saying it.) and the conversation flows from there. He did educate me about the history of Indian immigration in Kenya apart from discussing about Seattle weather, places in America, and immigrant life. As the discussion casually meandered through different topics, he said, and I am quoting here to the best of my memory, "You know, I have observed that in America, women are really in a fight against men, but that is not the case in other places." I did not have an answer to that. At the same time, I had arrived at my destination, so I had to get down. But the last piece of conversation lingered behind.

Now if we come to think of it, why is it so, really? I have not gathered enough information or evidence regarding this to come to a strong conclusion.

It is true that India is much more misogynist as a society, and more open and unapologetic about it. A woman has to fight it in so many complex layers. It is also true that there are outright vocal groups like Gulab gang taking strong aggressive actions against misogyny. On the other hand, I do feel safer in USA than India. Many Indian women have shared the opinion that safety is one of the most important reasons for them staying back in USA. It's true that when I am in bus, I do not think twice before taking a seat next to a man, whereas in India I would be in utter panic throughout the time if I had to. When I am interacting with men, I do not find them staring at my boobs and be unapologetic about it. I walk around after dark much more comfortably not worrying about my life. 

Yet something is fundamentally missing here. I do realise that there is a strong lack of female role models here. In India, we have a lot of role models to follow starting from strong female leaders, and strong females in family such as mothers and grandmothers playing the role of matriarchs. Women in these roles are admired by people from both genders. I think American society is missing that. While there is a lot of talk and awareness about feminism, women empowerment, certainly more than India, it somehow does not seem to be enough. There is a negative attitude like ridicule, and dismissal, to a point where a woman will almost end up questioning her own experiences.

Despite all the misogyny in all different levels in India, I was never dismissed as a person. I never found my voice drowning in noise. Here I do see that tendency to dismiss. One has to put extra effort to make people to realize that "I exist", "I have an opinion that matters". For a long time, I thought it may have to do with my own personality, but when I shared with other women, I realized it is a battle everyone is fighting in their own different way.

I agree, I need to dig deeper to understand this attitude of American society. Still, I can firmly say that the advantage of Indian society is that the misogyny women experience in India is blatant, bare, and right in front of us. So every women is strongly aware of it. She knows who is her enemy and what it looks like. Although the complexity and nuanced nature of the issue imposes a big challenge, it does help us women to make a conscious or subconscious choice between whether to deal with it, or fight it; be vocal about it, or let our actions speak. 

In USA, strict law and order system, and perhaps some social norms ( that I am not aware about yet) ensures women's safety and general respect. One can see women in almost all types of jobs working with pride. I think the problem of enormous amount of complexity that comes with an ancient and hierarchical society like India is also not present here. Yet the tendency to dismiss and the sense of insecurity regarding treating a woman as a person remains prevalent and much more subtly so. When you do not know what is your enemy, it is tough to make a sophisticated choice. I guess it may be one of the reasons why women had to (or have to) declare an open fight against men or patriarchy.

If we put it metaphorically, let us imagine two people who are causing harm to you. You know the first person won't listen to any sensible rational conversation. Either they will dismiss you or they will try to sabotage you. What would you do? Suffer silently, or wage an open war. But you find hope that you can find a solution to your problem with the second person possibly through dialog, or bending rules, or manipulation, or by just outgrowing them. Then you won't feel the urgency to put up an open fight, and at the same time you will have the courage to protect and nourish your cause.

I know my analysis  and conclusion are crude, but I hope this encourages people to consider the matter instead of jumping into conclusion about people, norms, and society as feminazy, MCP and other derogatory terms.

Well, signing off while thanking my cab driver for making me think over the topic.

 

 

Three stories of perseverance

Last week, I received good news from three different friends of mine. Those were news of success, achievement and accomplishment.

The first news was from someone who had received rejection despite their best effort. Their best was not good enough. They held on, and finally outgrew their failure by striving for alternative, hopefully better  options. Their story was of "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade."

The second news was from someone who had finally reached the milestone, that they had set out for years back. Theirs was a long, arduous journey full of frustration, setbacks, and uncertainties. But they did not give up, and eventually reached there.

The third news was a story of climbing a ladder of success. Their story was of dedication, focus, clear goal and patience. They started out small, took one deliberate step at a time, and gave their best each time.

I felt thankful that they shared the good news with me. Although I have not been an intimate part of their respective journeys, I was aware of them by our conversations now and then. I am sure they might have felt a sense of "I am not good enough", "I won't be able to make it", "This is too hard and painful", and many other difficult emotions. But, in the end, they made it. They are winners of their own battles.  And what sets them apart from everyone else is the fact that they did not give up. They marched on, in a style that was their own. 

My heart goes out to each one out there who are struggling. Just hang in there. Your day will come. :)

The two countries - Persia and Iran

It was a Saturday afternoon. I went to the Indian store for grocery shopping. Since the Indian store is far from my home, I tend to go there once in a few months with a long list and load my cart with bags. So after my tiresome grocery experience, I called for cab. When I met the cab driver, it was mildly awkward. The driver looked white, his name (from my app) sounded like an African name, and his attitude was like an Indian man (read tashan). Unlike typical drivers, he did not greet me with great enthusiasm or any follow up conversations. I won't lie if I say I resented that he did not help me with my luggage, although he helped in holding the cart. It was not unpleasant, but something not usual either. I got into the cab, turned my GPS on, texted my friend to be online just in case. A few minutes passed in silence. It was bothering me. So I decided, "Enough. Start talking." And I asked him, "mmm...huh....am sorry, but I am not sure if I pronounced your name correctly. How do you pronounce your name?" Then he said his name. It is actually two names, that the app joined together as one. Now it made sense. The name was an Arabic name. It resembled a Pakistani singer, but I could not recall his face. So I got lost in thought. Then he quickly added, "It is like the name of a famous Pakistani singer." I agreed, "Yes, that's what I was thinking".

Now, my other confusion started. So he is a muslim. He looks like he is white. He is not excited at me being obviously Indian. So he might be anywhere from Pakistan to west Asia. He spoke of the singer admirably, but he did not have the same pride as a Pakistani would about the singer. Then where is he from?

Well, this time it did not take me long. I asked and he replied, "I am from Iran." I was relieved, for it gave a rest to my confusion. Now my mind shifted from being confused to being curious. I told him that I have met a lot of Iranian people in my grad school and made a few good friends. I asked him if he is doing ok with the situation that arose thanks to the recent elections. He said with great confidence, "Ya...ya. It's all good. I have my green card. So I do not have to worry. But if Trump decides to send me back, I will ask him to book a first class flight ticket for my country. He is like a family friend.", and laughed. Then the conversation started flowing. We exchanged our experiences and opinions on life in USA, life as expatriates, what we miss about our home country etc, etc. 

Then the interesting part came. I asked, "How do Americans react when they know you are from Iran?" He said with his typical tashan, "See, I don't tell them right away. I tell them I am from two countries. First, I was in Persia. ". We both paused. Then he continued, "Then I became citizen of Iran. So I am from both Persia and Iran."  I was like "What, they did not get it?!" And he said, "Nope." I laughed hard. That joke, just made my day :)

He continued, "When they hear Persia, they think it is some country in the eastern Europe. Even though they don't know, they are afraid to ask. So if I ask, 'Have you heard of it?', they say, a weak yes. But when they hear Iran, they get shocked. " I was admiring his wit! I asked, "Well, do you reveal them at all?" He said, "Sometimes yes. I tell them after some time, 'Do you know Persia and Iran are the same countries?' " and laughed. This time his laughter had a tone of seriousness and irritation that such memories brought him. 

Then he went on the ignorance about the world in American education, how people change their names when they move here, or try to ape American culture, and forget their own culture... and many other topics. I agreed with some, defended some,  was clueless about some, and tried to fill my G.K. tank with some other topics.

When I reached home, he not only helped me with my luggage, but stopped and waited in his car until I entered my apartment.