A month in the Caribbean

It was the summer of 2011. I had been waiting for it since an year. My advisor Dr Hudson decided to take me to the island for a month on a field project. I was so excited about it. That is one reason I made a half hearted search for the jobs in the Electrical Engineering field after my Masters. Every time I had an interview I would be scared that if selected I am going to be barred from the trip to the island. So I should never fret over doing a PhD and not making dough like my engineer friends. You get what you think is most important for your existence. That's how it works in life.
My journey started from Reno airport where my friends and brother see me off. I had a big layover at the Los Angeles airport. I spent most of my time in people watching. Being from India I like the feeling of being around lots of people. It makes me feel comfortable and at home.
My last flight was from Miami to St Croix. It was a small aircraft with around 40 people. The moment we landed at St Croix, everyone started to clap that we made it. I realized later that it was not only because the aircraft was shaking and had hit a rough phase of cloud during its course but it was a simple island custom. It was raining heavily when I landed. The airport was so small that it felt like a small railway junction. All my luggage was drenched. I was carrying an important rack for our CCN spectrometer in my cabin luggage and that bag was one of the last to arrive. My boss was upset that the LA airport authorities had made me check it in. He had already planned to sue them in case its lost. He gave me good grief over the time we waited for the bag.
We left for the resort hotel 'The Buccaneer', which was like a small dream world. The life outside the Buccaneer and inside the resort with three beaches at your service was quite a contrast. I had a big room with view towards the ocean. I was sharing it with another girl from Germany called Anja. She had reached there the night before. When I knocked my room, a petite girl with long hairs done into pleats and a big smile opened it. My boss was very keen in getting the instruments and his joy knew no bound to see it as I unzipped my suitcase. He is one of those kind of people who display their anger and joy with all vigor. He explained to me that he would take me to the airport at 8 am tomorrow and left. The place looked like a palace from the times of Mughal era. I felt very grand during my entire period of stay. They had a big welcome hamper with wine and fruits and cheese and crackers with a card addressed to my name.

We used to work on the plane all day on a down day and till the flight would take off on a flight day. There was no air conditioning on the plane. It was very hot and humid on the island. There were big mosquitoes with stings that would leave mark for days. I had a bad time with the itches. My advisor got me some ointment which was much needed to relive the legs. Every time you go out one has to apply a generous amount of anti insect gel which was provided by the hotel. There were meetings and briefings every day. And then there were hard down days when the pilots get an off to relax and drink. I went to another island on one of these days which was uninhabited. It was covered with white sand. I tried snorkeling in the middle of the sea. I could see colorful fishes all around me.  I experienced bioluminescent while kayaking in the salt river bay. There were kayaks in our resort which could be checked out. Every Tuesday there used to be a social where we had refreshments and some live music. I saw stilt clad performers first time. We had the best of breakfasts. First time after having moved to the States I had a summer where I could relish on juicy and sweet mangoes. I love mangoes. I would load my plate with mangoes and more mangoes until its out or I have to leave.

I made a few friends as well. We usually used to go out in groups. There were around a total of 50 researchers, scientists, students, pilots and crew members congregated for the project called ICE-T which was an acronym for Ice in the Cloud Experiment-Tropical. Me and Anja had a good time together. We both were quite people and hence would be with our laptops and talk only when required.  I met another guy Thomas from Australia who was fun to be with. He had spent his childhood in Fiji and hence had childhood memories of Indian people and food, the later being more fond. His Mom used to make rotis and he had lost the tava somehow . I have promised him that if we cross paths again I will get him one. I spent most of my time with my boss working on our spectrometer which needed to be tinkered every day for calibrations and various other reasons.  I think everyone was of the impression that my boss gives me no off even on the off days. I did not mind working as I was on an island. I met two scientists from NCAR whom I got along very well. The first one Tom took me to a great place that had fish tacos with mango chutney. I have to confess that the island food had some spice, that my taste buds were better accustomed than the bland food in the US.
I met my current advisor Dr Cotton in the last lap of the campaign. He was visiting for a week. Someone introduced me to him. I feel amused now that I had never heard his name before.
It was an eventful one month with new people, culture, resort life, fresh sea food and flying experiences in the cockpit.

I wish to take my loved ones one day on a tropical vacation when I won't have to worry for work. All I would do is relax and have fun.

The C-130 NCAR flight 

The abode for the month

With the stilt dancers on a Tuesday night

At one of the resort beaches

 Tom,Anja, me and Matt at the reef

Another beach of the resort 

My boss working on the spectrometer

Run for life.

I am doing my PhD. Its tough to be a PhD student. Everyone thinks you are capable of figuring out all your research mostly on your own. I have finished two semesters and I am looking forward to the prelims. I don't have an exact plan to pass it but I need to nail it in order to be content.
 I like my life at Fort Collins. People in my department are friendly. My advisor Dr Cotton is a great guy. He is very inspiring. He is 72 and does all his chores on his own which include cooking, cleaning and even chopping the woods for making his own deck up on the mountains, just to please his dear wife. I have never seen a person making so much use of all the 24 hours. We go running at mid day. I had never imagined back in India that I would be so brave one day that I can go running at around noon with the sun right at my head and the atmosphere so dry that my throat would be parched for water. Every time I am running I am warning myself that 'you are doing it for the last time'. Enough of this crazy madness, why on earth would one want to torture her own self? But the feeling that comes later is very rewarding. I feel proud of my self. I used to be a shy book worm in school. I never participated actively in sports. I would consider it as wasting my valuable time which was solely needed for delving into those textbooks. I was so naive back then. Who has learnt life solely from books? Its kind of incomplete until you have experiences good or bad.
I finished a half marathon last month on May 5th. It was a big day of my life. I have been running more often since I became friends with Ekaterina. She would take me with her for the runs in the UNR tracks and later in the Rancho San Rafael park. Those days were lovely. We would do all the girl talks and try to solve all the problems in each others love life in those runs. I would only take alternate laps with her. It was more therapeutic mentally than physically for me at that point. I even got bitten by a dog while running on the side walks last year in July. She confronted the drunk chow chow owner with all her vigor. I had no idea before that event that my sweet, soft- spoken Russian friend can raise her voice too if required.
Coming back to this year's marathon, I never practiced 13.5 miles full length, before the race day. I had come close to 8 miles, 2 weeks before the race. But the race day was a great experience. I was feeling happy from the time I woke up and went to catch the bus. I was doing good in the first 30 minutes. I was actually going with the pacers for 1.50 hours. But then I started wearing out. I so wished I had practiced more regularly. Not having trained myself led me to being very sore after the race. I finished the race in 2 hours 37 minutes, which is longer than required. I could barely walk for about a week. I would like to take part in more races in future and beat my own record and pace forward gradually. It was a very humbling experience as runners of all age would run past you in the last 30 minutes of the race. I was questioning my own abilities. At one point, there was a runner whose shirt said, 'Don't be LAST'. I was very exhausted at that time but it made me smile. I even paced up and managed to click a picture of her back with my iPhone. There was another 55 year old man who had been to the Himalayas for backpacking tours. The gentleman who waited with me in the line while boarding the bus was doing it for the third time. He was a very positive guy. He went ahead and warned me that since its my first race it should be mostly for fun and the goal should be to finish it. He said he has been doing better with each attempt. This race was just 2 weeks after the Boston marathon bombings. Some runners were displaying support for the Boston on their shirts. Its scary what we can do as human beings. Those two brothers were sports person, the deceased elder brother being a boxer. How did they not had empathy for fellow people in sports? Life is weird when it comes to real acts. I am dreaded to think of runners left with amputations for the rest of their life. But I am overwhelmed at the spirit these people have shown. It is very full of life and positive energy. Of course you can't kill someones soul. I remember Dr John Lewis's advice in our last conversation at DRI. He said grad school and PhD are capable of killing you with load and stress. The best way to survive PhD is to take up some hobby. It would give you a breather from the humdrum and let you keep the PhD at the back burner at least 3 times a week. I was not sure what hobby would be suitable for me. But Fort Collins trails and the foothills campus and my advisor helped me in making running a default hobby. I think the hiking trips with Ted in the first semester also helped me in building stamina and I had a chance to push my limits first time in my entire life. The first time I scrambled Gray rock with him and friends would be always memorable. I felt at several spots that day that it was the last day of my life and I would fall off that cliff and die before even attending the first day of class in the PhD. I had never tried rock climbing in any form and here I was trying to climb a real mountain. I had fever as an aftermath for the next several days. I never really had high temperature after high school. But it let me believe that I can try adventures which I had never done earlier. I want to finish the race in 2 hours next time. I know it would need more miles on my running shoes. Something inside me says I can accomplish it. I need to keep running and forget about everyone, everything; good or bad that ever happened until I am so exhausted that I can only hear my own heart pounding relentlessly and when I come back from the hills my face and nose are red hot, burning with the heat of my own body. Needless to say that I love that look of mine in the mirror.

Grey Rock

 The rocky mountains

Running on snow

Gem Lake hiking

Right before the race

The Rocky Mountains 

Decisions that kill

Some of the times seem to be very important and decisive. Its only when they pass that you realize that it was like any other time of your life. Just the same mundane life, with its never ending affairs. I  had read some where that decision making is very important. If you are struck with a decision you should better ask for advice and help from people who love you. I think that it does not always help. Sometimes it increases the confusion. There was a time in my life when I wanted to come to the states for higher education. Not many supported the choice but I had made my decision and I don't regret the choice when I look back into the past. I have lived the first phase of my life in the USA and now its time to make some decisions again. I thought I should get a PhD. I don't know what convinced me into getting one. It might be some close friends who were aspiring for it. I think I don't want the process but yes I like the result. It feels kind of pleasant to sit in a university and grading some home-works of students who are clueless about what to do next with their life. It makes me feel comfortable and empathize with the kind of person I have been all my life. Half-awake, half confused;  sometimes insecure and sometimes very composed. It was not an easy ride with me being solely responsible for the dreaming,planning and the execution of all my life. I did not even accomplish anything by this age which is not very rewarding. But may be its unfair to compare life's of others with ourselves. I am a slow learner and this is my pace. I cant change the truths by sulking at them. I have started to look for support of late and that has made me unhappy; may be its good to rely on your own faculties. I need to think of all those who deserve better than me and still didn't had a good life. That would make me feel better. Or I can think of all the people who could have been helpful but didn't want to take their responsibilities. It's my choice again if I want to feel happy or just spoil the importance of what I have.
I think I would wait for my chance to get an admission or else I would just try and follow where life takes me.
I feel emotionally very low these days.I don't know whom to blame about that. I need a Savior with a sword flashing that would cut the darkness of the night. Huh, that's surely some reminiscence of a fairy tale. Let's hope it gets better.

My dearest Nani Ma

It was the month of April. My Nanima and Nana were with my Mom. I would call home everyday and giggle with Nani ma. I can tell that she was the happiest. I had told her that I would be home soon and follow her advice. It could not last long though. Its the way life is. When you think everything would be alright that is when you get a  bolt out of nowhere to make you realize of your mortal state. So, one day, I called home and I heard Ma crying on phone. Nani ma was in the hospital. She had a paralysis attack. My favorite thing on earth was struggling for life. I was at the other side of the continent and I had my finals two weeks from now. Ma convinced me that she is going to live more. I can show up after the exams. I called many doctors at Kolkata to find out where can she be admitted. I even wanted to send some more money for the treatment. She was admitted in the city hospital and everything was taken care of. But suddenly she had a stroke and she left us. It felt like the end of world for me. I did send the money but it was for the funeral. I was not in my senses for some days that followed. The day she died, I called my little brother and all I could hear was his sobs from the other side on line. Some times you don't need words to finish a conversation. His sobs were silent and deeper than any words we had exchanged. We were grieved that we did not say good bye to our favorite grand parent for her last journey. I went to the gym in my school and stood underneath the shower till I was tired. I rubbed the loofah all over my body to feel her presence. I was trying to remember everything we did together as the hot water washed my bare body. She used to love long showers. That was her way to pamper herself after she was done with her daily chores at around mid-day. My grandpa was at work and she had all the time in the world to herself. She loved perfumes, beauty soaps, shampoo, loofahs and pumice stones. She could somehow maintain the legacy even after my grandpa retired and they moved to his ancestral home in a rural village. She would stock them whenever she would come to visit my Mom and spend them slowly that makes it enough until her next consignment has arrived. I can still imagine her feet whenever I would touch them for her blessings. We had this tradition of touching your elder's feet every time you are going or leaving home. They were so white and spotless that I had to complement them. My own feet get cracks sometimes and not to forget that I stay indoors in air conditioner and the air in the US has no anomaly to the dirt in the kachcha (unpaved) road of my ancestral village. She never had cracks in her heels. She would wear socks, keep them polished and shining even in the dusty and rustic life of the village. I would visit her in that small village in my college breaks. It used to be very hot and humid there. But she would prefer to sleep indoors at night with the doors locked from inside. Everyone else would sleep outside underneath the star studded sky but she had her own way. She had spend all her life in the cities with my grandpa and she would still try to live her life the way she has been leading it.

We were next door neighbors to our Grandparents till I was in Tenth grade. Me and my Nani Ma would watch TV together at night and on weekends. My own parents did not get a TV until I was in college. My Dad had his own set of rules that we would discuss later. So, we both had same favorites in TV. We would watch regional movies on Sunday. I would read the subtitles of a Oriya, Tamil or any movie and translate it to her. I was just a kid so sometimes I could not read and interpret all of it and at times end up missing an entire conversation. But she was an ardent movie follower. She had to know what did the male protagonist say that has made the girl cry. What? I would cheat on her then. I would make up some dialogue and deliver it to her. I thought it was better than making her upset and showing my ineptness in English literature. At night, my Nana would sleep early inside the mosquito net. Me and Nani ma would sit on the floor right in front of the TV, with our frog like eyes popped out in front of the Television and watch anything thats being telecasted. We would try to keep most of our body parts covered. We would keep killing mosquitoes and keep watching television until we had tablets and rashes so itchy on our arms and legs that we are forced to sleep.

She loved me beyond limits. I could share all my secrets with her. I grew up in her love and care. Its all so fresh like the first few drops of the monsoon rains .My Nani ma was a lady who loved discipline in life. She was a stern Grandma to all her grandchildren except me. She would tell me all her secrets and I could tell her about all the odds in my life. She would promise that she is not passing it to Ma. I still remember her pounding heart beat every time I would call her phone. She had arthritis in her legs, a common ailment in women in India. She would pace fast to answer the phone. I could always hear her steps approaching towards the phone. She won't like it if someone else takes the phone. She would cut the conversation and she would be almost out of breath and say 'Haan Helou', that was her distinct way to say Hello. I can hear that still. I would ask her to take it easy and don't just run to the phone from next time. She would lie to me and say she was just walking, there is nothing to worry. She did not want to waste time on all this useless exchange of greetings. She would start with her regular round of questions, every single time. When are you coming home and getting married? Did you find a man in your life? When did you talk last to your brother? Did he or you put any weights or you both still look anorexic? What did you eat today? Whats the time in America right now? I would try to give her some answer. She would not be convinced and she would ask me again? How many months did you say?Can I count them on my fingers? I called her once and told her; Nani ma! I have saved a lot of money now. I would give you half when I am home. She asked me 'How much do you have? 'I replied, I have 2.5 lacs. She tried to confirm it. Is that in Dollars? I started giggling and said No, its just rupees, 2.5 lac rupees. She laughed at this and said. Your Nana has just that much amount left. And we are scared that we would outlive the money we have. We have actually started to think of it. What do we eat when we are done with all the money. I am telling you 'thats not a lot.', thats just enough to keep you going in today's world. I smiled at her prudence. She was not all that incognizant as I had thought her to be.

I wish she had some more time with me. I had many more plans for us. But thats with all the good things in life. They are short lived. And we keep craving for more, long after they are gone. I think of what all we missed? My Mom did a good job though. She would always make sure that they had a trip outside their rural village to my Mom once an year. She would take them to the Doctor and make sure they get proper medication for everything.
She was the best grand ma ever. Her expectations from me were very worldly. She did not want me to be the most successful or the most richest. She wanted me to get settled down in life, have a family and raise kids. I still don't know why she left me uninformed. When I look back today I feel I had a chance to make us happy. I had lost my chance. I had no control over it though. The deepest scars remain green, we have no medicines to heal them because they are on our soul.

A musical story

I was in school. I was very shy. I would not speak until needed, until asked. I was scared of the outside world. But I loved my Ma and my little brother. They would laugh all the time. They had jokes. All I needed to do was listen to the jokes and giggle. They don't expect me to add to the story and be funny. They were nice people. They kept me in their team even when I was misfit or may be they needed an audience for their anecdotes and jokes or they don't care as long as you can laugh with them. I was happy being in their team as my dad was a taciturn man. He won't smile even when needed. And my world was my books and my school and homework. Being in their team made my study breaks funny. My childhood was very musical. My Mom would never compromise on music. She would object to my Dad for spending money on everything. But she would make sure she had the music cassettes of the new movie that just got released. We had the Sony music player and for her that was not a luxury. That's the need of the soul to be rejuvenated. She would sing ardently while doing her daily chores. She would forget all the fights with my dad once she had the music playing. I guess that's the magic of music. It helps you think about the song and makes your life dreamy. My Mom would always play romantic numbers. She would always skip slow ones. I guess she needed a change from her mundane life that was kind of slow in that small town.
My brother took after her a lot. He would keep singing all the time. He and Mom would play the music every morning while we would get ready for school. He had this piggy bank with lots of money in it. He was a pampered kid. We all loved him a lot. He would throw tantrums and we would let him cuz we loved him, he was the youngest in the four membered family. He was a big favorite with all the domestic helps we had. He would make all of them his alias in cricket. So here goes the story of how he got some of the money. He was two grades younger than me. He was expected to read my used books. He hated the idea as I would get new books the first day of class. On the contrary, he was supposed to wait for loose books till the weekend. I know its irritating for a kid. So my parents tried to bribe him to accept my used books. They would pay him and not the school for every used book he would read. It did not make him the happiest but it could still pacify the situation. So he had some money collected in his Piggy Bank. And then he was a teenager now. The piggy bank was broken.Any guesses about what he did with the money. He bought like 15 cassettes of different albums that were very expensive. No wonder he was Mommy's son. And he bought chocolates of all kinds. But he was scared of Mommy. She might beat him up and he was excited to share the happiness. So he showed me the treasure. Of course I had to keep my mouth shut but I was paid. I got a share in all the chocolates he had bought. We had them hidden in the attic house on our terrace. The funny part is that he would play the cassettes and slowly get them downstairs cuz may be he did not want Ma to notice all of them together. I don't remember what would he tell Ma; may be that 'it belongs to some friend'. But he proved that he can be more religiously musical than Mommy. We even had English music to our ears now; Michael Jackson and Savage Garden. I loved listening to "to the moon and back" and "The Animal song" and "Black o' white". Thanks to him.