Identity

I am at boston,massachusetts(dont know if i got the spelling right), home to MIT, Harvard and other big schools, and close to yale. the tea party place.

i came here with my cousin, her husband, and her parents, sitting in the extreme right in the rear of the 1987 Camry, with my left shoulder hiked up a bit, and consequentially paining a lot , at the end of the day.

you treat your shoulder bad and restrict its movement for 4 hours and it pains, yet some people treat the significant other in their lives bad for YEARS and then expect no pain.

i have been reading identity by milan kundera, a beautiful work like his other novels. i have also been able to finish reading The Club Dumas by Arturo Perez Reverte, a new find. It was’nt that good, in retrospect. Flanders Panel is supposed to be good, though.

When i come into the 3 and 4 hundred thousand dollar homes that indians, such as my cousins, their relatives(note that fact that i avoided saying my relatives) and friends live in, i tell myself , “No I will never have a house like this, and i will be never proud of a house.” I have chosen poverty, a long student-ship. no this is not one of those, “oh i love poverty” ditties. its just a fact that keep sufracing each time i see hte proud owner of an expensive house. At times it hurts, when i think of the days ahead. The exchange rate for one makes a cheap ($450) apartment(cheap for an american) , very expensive for an indian student. I could afford to live alone, but everyone whould call me crazy, you know what i mean, and that would really make me guilty, like i am just blowing away 200 bucks a month.

this is as random as it gets. i am just writing whatever comes to my mind, its been sometime since i got to post anything, mail anyone, do anything online, and these fols here, the Sundaram family, as they call themselves have AT&T high-speed internet, not that it improves my typing speed…

I had been to Ithaca, to Cornell University.

point is, i reached at 8.40 pm on christmas eve, and there wasnt a soul in the greyhound bus station. Now S had promised to have someone pick me up , but those guys werent there, and a man turned up some time later, and he left, only to come back five minutes later with 3 others, talking in their funny dialect…i moved closer to the green star grocery store, it was snowing, and the store was closed, and i could not get thru to my friend on her cell phone from any pay phone…

then it was that this man appeared in his car, and he was on his way to the store. he asked me “how do you do?” and i asked if he had a cell phone i could use…he asked me what the problem was, andhe offered to drop me off at Cornell. He took me in his car to a church on a slope, and from there i could call sunita, whose friends came to church soon enough. God bless that man, who had no reason to give me that ride, and help me that night. I trusted him so much that it was only later in the evening when sunita asked me “what if he was just trying to rob you?” well, i never thought of that , buddy!!

but yes, i dont beleive in christmas, because i am not christian, but i beleive christ lived, and was a good man, and it felt nice to reminded on his birthday that goodness still exists, in abundance, for those who beleive in it. I am glad that now i can rest easier, because i never can say, “Not a single american has gone out of his/her way to help me”,… and all that…

i have always fel safe in the subway and the ferry in NY, in spite of my cousin(sister)’s horror stories about characters she has met in those places…they are very human, and some ofthem are evil alright, but i think i dont look like i am rich enough to be mugged :)

another thing i wont forget in a hurry is a girl(maybe 15-16 years old) sitting all huddled up, scared in the 42nd street subway corridor, with a hand made sign, a piece of cardboard actually, which said ” need help in raising bus money” “stranded” I went up and tried to talk to her, then i noticed she was trembling and sobbing. Hundreds of people were walking by, not caring to even see her, and she had to sit there, hoping somebody would look, it was not her style to go around asking. She didnt talk to me at all, and i felt miserable…..

america is beautiful, and alive, i notice this when i dont have the home-school-home routine, where i dont get to see people.

all day today i might have walked some 30 paces…i cant do without physical exertion, and i would love to go out for a walk now, but if i want to walk then i will have to tell them all i am going out, and they will think it pretty strange, since its cold outside, and no amount of my telling them that i like the cold will get them to beleive its safe enough to walk int he cold..

when i was at Cornell, we made a snowman, a snowman who was lying down actually, and played in the snow…I was abos;lutely amazed at the sight, the feel of snow..its incomparable, its soft and absolutely pure and white, so much that it dazzles the eye, and it make everything …. building, houses, trees… everything look like its been touched by magic.

thats all for tonight. good night. i wish i were in better company. relatives are strange.

and today like many other days, i wonder how long it will be before i tie the knot, and how it will be then, and how little things will give me joy, like watching her brush her teeth, and helping her when she least expects it, like by taking out the trash on a day when its not my job to do it….or making her a cup of coffee….i wonder how she will fit in to my family. she will be a parto f the family, thats for sure, but how will the family, and she , be changed by that, thats the questions…

its a question with enough possible outcomes to keep me busy thinking, and wondering when i feel dissipated, and restricted by the people around me. I dint talk much today….10 or 20 sentences , thats about it…i read a lot today,a nd stared out of the car window a lot, trying to prevent uneasy conversations, advice.

i shall sleep now.

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