Archive for May, 2007
Be aware of express mail in India. I asked someone to send me certain documents from China; he sent them last Sunday. After five working days, they haven’t arrived here yet. As I track this express mail online, it was sent to Mumbai while the final destination is Delhi; in other words, this email is traveling unnecessary distance. Furthermore, post office workers around here make any excuses to goof off. For example, …
NEW DELHI (Reuters) - India celebrated the 150th anniversary of its First War of Independence against British rule on Friday, poking fun at its former colonial rulers at a historic fort in the capital which saw much bloodshed on both sides.
The festivities centred around the Red Fort, a magnificent 17th-century red sandstone structure in Delhi where mutinous Indian soldiers proclaimed the ageing and frail Mughal Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar as ruler of India in May 1857.
What started as an act of defiance by some Indian soldiers who refused to use rifle bullets said to be greased with beef and pork fat quickly became a popular rebellion against the British East India Company that ruled most of India. Muslims consider pork unclean while Hindus view the cow as holy.
…
Read the rest of the article here.
This is yet another b*** s*** holiday in India; most people work, but lazy scumbag government employees like post office workers are taking day off today. This is one of a million reasons why express mail doesn’t work like it should in India. Did I tell you that there are so many cows, dogs and other animals everywhere? There is a good chance that a cow or a dog literally ate this mail. There is no civilization here. Have you heard the name “Indus Valley Civilization”? You know, the civilization that was supposed to be founded roughly 5000 years ago? Pure B.S. It’s science fiction, buddy. Civilization doesn’t exist here today, so how could there be one 5000 freaking years ago?
India, Business (India) | 11.05.2007 5:33 | 2 Comments
I typically don’t care about celebrity news and I’m guessing that this is the first blog entry that I only write about a certain celebrity and nothing else. No politics, no economy, no culture or anything.
I find this comical. Isn’t it? You may or may not like Paris Hilton, but she’s just a girl. Party girl, but what did she do so wrong? I don’t sympathize with her but I empathize with her, and I find it a bit funny. Something about this is funny; she’s essentially worth billions of dollars. She just parties all her life because she doesn’t bother about anything else. Then, she breaks a traffic law. Nothing serious. Yet, today, she finds herself getting thrown into jail. Pretty funny.
London, May 11 (ANI): It seems that Paris Hilton will really get to experience what a simple life is in the LA prison, where she will serve her 45 days sentence for driving on a suspended license.
The socialite will share a room, which is approximately 12ft by 9ft, with another jail mate and she will most likely get a bunk bed to sleep in, reports the Sun.
The hotel heiress will have to spend the time with all kinds of criminals from habitual robbers to murderers.
…
Read the rest here.
Casual Observation | 11.05.2007 2:10 | No Comments
AMSTERDAM (Reuters) - A Dutch appeals court raised the prison sentence of a Dutch businessman to 17 years after confirming on Wednesday he was guilty of complicity in war crimes for selling chemicals to Iraq used in deadly gas attacks.
Frans Van Anraat was sentenced in 2005 to 15 years in prison for complicity in war crimes for supplying raw materials that were used to make poison gas by Saddam Hussein’s Iraq in the 1980-1988 war with Iran.
The poison gas was also used against Iraq’s own Kurdish population, including an attack on the town of Halabja in 1988 which killed an estimated 5,000 people.
…
Read the rest of the article here.
Wow, sucks to be a Dutchman. If he were an American, he could’ve just continued his business …
Politics | 9.05.2007 8:54 | No Comments
New Delhi: In a one-off case, the Supreme Court has ruled that the government has the power to ban or forfeit any publication that endangers public order, even if it means restricting the freedom of expression guaranteed by the Indian Constitution.
“Government has the power to confiscate material, which contain references that could spark violence,” the Bench comprising Justices B P Singh and H S Bedi observed while upholding the Karnataka government’s decision to ban a vernacular novel in the state.
The ruling comes in the wake of a ban imposed by Karnataka government on a novel titled Dharmakaarana which allegedly contains derogatory references to a 12th century saint Basaveshwara. The novel was banned in 1995 by the state government following a public outcry.
However, author P V Narayana and others challenged the ban in the Karnataka High Court, which upheld the government’s decision. Following this, an appeal was filed in the Supreme Court.
…
Read the rest of the article here.
So, here it is. No freedom of speech in India.
India, Culture (India), Politics (India) | 6.05.2007 12:10 | No Comments
Second Draft Forward
I read this short story ‘The Man Under The Roof’ today, a couple of months after I wrote the first draft. Not surprisingly, there were quite a few misspellings and grammatical errors so I corrected them. Wording was a bit odd here and there, so I made several changes as well. I also made a pretty big change in the last paragraph, the ending so that the story made more sense; I think that this second draft has a better closure.
I am asking someone to read this and give me feedback as I write this. So, I might make more changes later on, but I feel that this is slightly but recognizably better than the first draft.
Forward
The following short story is partially based on my personal experience; however, it is, after all, a fiction, not a true story. Please do not get offended if you identify that you are one of characters in the story because characterizations are not exactly accurate truthful depictions of real life people.
The Man Under The Roof
The man was smoking a cigarette. It was 3:30 am and it was completely dark outside. The house had a small backyard and extended a small roof toward it. He stood right under the roof. It was raining and he narrowed his eyes and looked through the rain toward the dark sky seen right above the top of the wall built at the end of the backyard. He knew that he’d recall this moment on this day some years from now and simply confirm that this was one of less grammar days of his life and he was on the path to his triumph; at this very moment, he had no possessions, nor did he achieve anything the world recognized, but he saw the path laid out in front of him.
The house was owned by Kerry Cline; she was Roy Townsend’s girlfriend and Roy was his friend. Roy was one of those people full of failures in life. He never finished high school. He entered college nonetheless and managed to get A.S. degree but he failed to complete four years degree. Before he dropped out of college, he already went through a bankruptcy and a divorce. He had a child with a woman whom he never married. Even after the bankruptcy, he managed to accumulate a huge debt. All these took place more than ten years ago, so he went through even more failures before today; also his debt was all time high now. But Roy was a good friend of the man; Roy was perhaps his best friend. He actually liked the fact that Roy was a good friend despite his numerous failures because it was an indication that he was not concerned about what the rest of the world thought about him when it came to his personal matters; he was friend with those whom he chose. He also liked a little oddity in his life; he saw the path to his triumph laid out in front of him, but as far as the rest of the world was concerned, he was just another failure who could only find a friend among losers. Oddity showed that he was unique in many ways and he found great value in the uniqueness.
The man was not a sexist or a racist; he did not discriminate people based on their sex, race, ethnicity or sexual orientation though he was a little prejudicial in the past admittedly. However, he was never able to like those of no intellect. He understood that he should not categorically dislike them but he did it as if it were his biological reaction; he found himself disliking those of no intellect like he found himself breathing. He had no suicidal tendency so he never tried to stop breathing but he did not consciously breath all the time, either; he just breathed subconsciously, and just like that, he disliked those of no intellect. Kerry Cline was a woman of no intellect; she would not do any harm to anyone but he was simply not very fond of her.
Roy could spend days or even weeks just telling his failure stories, and Kerry, his girlfriend, was a woman of no intellect, yet the man was staying at her place after all because of their generosity so to speak; he actually depended on them. Roy had an interesting ability to persuade some people to do what he wanted them to do; whether he made good use of that ability was questionable though. He actually met Kerry only a couple of months ago but he somehow persuaded her to quit her job, move into his place and help him to run his business; Kerry obeyed. The man was also running his business that he started about a year ago in a very difficult circumstance but he only had such a small income that he could not really afford his own place. He was staying at Roy’s place up until a couple of months ago since Roy had an extra bedroom but Kerry moved into Roy’s place now. Roy quickly persuaded her that the man needed a place and she let him stay at her place. The arrangement was made without a lot of problems. Rent-free.
The man turned thirty last month. He was not old but he had mixed feeling about it. After all, he had no processions. He did not achieve anything the world recognized. He knew that he would leave his footprints on this plant, but, in the end, there were no footprints today. He did not feel any pressure but he had to realize that it’d be some years before the world finally saw who he was and what he was capable of.
The man sipped some red wine. He was not drinking red wine to be fashionable; he simply liked the taste. It gave him small buzz so that he felt less distressed. It also cleansed his palate after he smoked a cigarette; the wine gave him comfort. It was poured in a large wine glass and the glass was placed on the air conditioner that stuck out from the house. He continued smoking and sipped more wine.
There was a certain oddity in the fact that Roy Townsend full of failures in life persuaded his girlfriend Kerry Cline of no intellect to arrange a place for the man to stay at her place for free, but the man’s situation was even more odd. He had a roommate, Adriana; she was a former Army officer and her current occupation was pet-sitter. She just played with pets all day long. He did not know exactly what kind of life she lived but he could see that she did not exactly age well. As far as he knew, she was not a drug addict or an alcoholic but her womanhood was gone; she was definitely not one of those well-aged older attractive women. She had about ten thousand dollars of credit card debt; she was still single in her 40s and never married before. She owned a small truck, DVDs and books, but she didn’t own anything else. Given the amount of her credit card debt, her networth was probably minus, not plus. Another failure in America. But even she paid the rent every month, so, conventionally speaking, he was a bigger failure than she was. He smiled just for a second because he felt that it was rather funny.
The man looked back his life up to this day as he continued smoking and sipping more wine. There were ups and downs, but, over all, he was on the path to the conventional success up until three years ago. Fine education, fine jobs, moving to New York City, friends, recognition from those who knew him in the past though he might not have been in touch with them for years, and finally fine income. But, one day, three years ago, he just decided to leave all those because he realized that there ought to be more in life. He did not regret, nor did he feel that he made a wrong decision. He simply recalled the last three years to analyze his current situation. He moved around a bit after he left New York and he eventually came back to California with Roy Townsend’s help. He met Roy years back for the first time here in California, and Roy was still there when he got in touch with him six months ago; shortly after he explained his situation to him, Roy offered him some help that led to his move back to this state. He focused his eyes on the dark sky, and then, he mentally just brushed aside what he was recalling.
The man was finishing his cigarette; the wine glass still had some wine left. After all, he was at best a guest in the house, so he put out the cigarette by pushing it on the wet concrete ground. He took the cigarette put out, entered the house and threw it in the trashcan. He was about to walk up to his room on the second floor to continue his work but he looked back and looked through the window; his eyes focused on the dark sky beyond the back wall once again. He suddenly felt that his mind was very clear. He was not a religious man, but he felt spiritual strength. He had a vision of his triumphant day. The day would come; he simply knew.
Short Stories (Fiction) | 6.05.2007 11:31 | 1 Comment
This is basically the first draft of my third short story “An Author and A Young Woman.” Now, I know that there are misspelled words and grammatical mistakes. There might be minor logical flows also. However, I wanted to get something done and post it on the internet. I already made a couple of printouts; I plan to pass them to a few people and get their feedback. I hope that this first draft is readable so that those of you who are keen on reading new writers’ short stories and novels can read without a lot of difficulties.
This is a bit longer than my second short story, and this has over 15,000 words. So, I made 11 blog entries this time; there are 11 chapters in the story and each chapter is posted as one blog entry. The following is the list of links to all chapters.
Chapter 1: Birthday Party
Chapter 2: Divya Virk
Chapter 3: First Man
Chapter 4: Going Back to India for the First Time
Chapter 5: Big Kittens
Chapter 6: New Job and Moving to New York
Chapter 7: A Week in Tokyo
Chapter 8: Quitting
Chapter 9: 9/11
Chapter 10: Thinking, Thinking and Writing
Chapter 11: An Author
Short Stories (Fiction) | 3.05.2007 7:39 | No Comments
Chapter 1: Birthday Party
A young woman stood at the entrance end of the bar. It was around 7:30 pm. ‘75th Street Brewery’, a sports bar in Upper West Side, New York City, had a small crowd already and more customers were coming in; most of them looked like young working professionals. The woman was about 160 cm tall or 5’3’’, 5 feet 3 inches tall, which was how her height was measured in US. She was not considered to be a small woman but definitely not a tall woman in this country; she was slightly shorter than average women. But she stood like something invisible lifted her up. Though she looked very comfortable and did not look forceful, she had a very good pasture. She did not have the ballerina like pasture, but she clearly looked taller than her actual height at the first glance. She had dark straight hair and her skin had slight complexion. Eyebrows were straight and clear; her eyes curved in slightly. She actually had large eyes; since they did not look like wondering around but looked very calm and peaceful, one had to take a moment to realize that they were large eyes. Eye color was green, though it was rather difficult to tell because the bar was slightly dim. Straight nose and lips with texture. Her makeup was rather light, but it seemed that she did not have to wear thick makeup. She wore a necklace; it was nothing big or elaborate, and it suited her. She just wore a white blouse and blue jeans. Both seemed like they were designer clothes though; they did not look like cheap clothes. Black boots with heals not too high; they looked like made of fine leather. She wore a few rings but no ring on her left ring finger; she also wore a small watch and several thin bracelets. Bracelets looked like they were authentic handicrafts from Africa, India or Southeast Asia. One couldn’t tell whether they were expensive or not, but they did look authentic; they suited her well because she looked like she had an ethical background. She looked like she was a southern European descent or Middle Eastern descent. Iranian descent? Maybe Turkey? Maybe she’s from a southern European country like Spain, Portugal or Italy. It was difficult to tell, though she had calmness and peacefulness so that she looked like she truly belonged to the city. A young female bartender approached and said, “I saw you comin’.”
“Hi Kristina.”
”What can I get you, Diva?”
“Martini.”
”Ok. Phew …” Kristina whispered only slightly as if Diva were going to party hard tonight. Diva kept cool and waited for her drink. She didn’t want to have too much alcohol too early, but today was her birthday. Though she looked like she was in control and had no plan to get drunk, she wanted to order a suitable drink, a stiff drink, to celebrate her birthday. She just turned 25 years old today. She had pretty much everything she could ask for as a 25 years old career woman. Good job, good look, good health, nice clothes, a decent apartment, friends to hang out with and good education. She worked as a web designer and made about 55k a year. Tons of people made more than what she made in New York City, but 55k was a very good salary given her age; she could foresee that she could be becoming a project manager and making 100k a year easily by the time she reached 30. She could also get into other areas like online marketing and multimedia development for the web. She could get MBA while she would continue working full time; given her age, she could complete the program before she reached 30. Her career had bright future ahead. She was rather short, and she didn’t exactly look like a tall slender fashion model, but she had a very pretty face and a fine figure. Most people would give her 8 out of 10 at least if they were to give her a score on her look out of 10. She had a gym membership paid by her company and she worked out three times a week. She kept in shape and she also had good health; she did a full checkup a couple of months ago, and her doctor told her that everything looked great. She also had a bunch of nice clothes. She bought some of her clothes at stores like Macy’s and Bloomingdale but she also bought a bunch of clothes at designer brand stores in SOHO, Upper West Side and Upper East Side. She usually dressed semi-formally. Because of her upbringing, she felt comfortable dressing formally, but most people at her work dressed rather casually, however, because it was one of those work places that people with creativity and artistic sense worked (or they liked to believe that they were creative people). She accommodated and decided to dress semi-formally. She lived alone in Sunnyside, Queens; her apartment had two rooms, one of which being her bedroom, a separate kitchen and a bathroom. The apartment was a lot more than what a single woman in her 20s could ask for. Since she didn’t spend a lot of time in her apartment, she only had necessary furniture. The room looked rather empty, but she liked it that way. She also had friends that she met at various places like dance classes and professional training classes to advance career. She had a B.S. degree in math from one of top 50 universities in US, which impressed a lot of people, particularly, men.
Diva organized tonight’s party. She wanted to pick a familiar place. She also wanted to pick a kind of place that she could have fun casually. Being able to order variety of drinks was a must. If not the best and greatest in the city, she wanted to be able to get good cocktails if she wanted. She wanted the place to have a reasonable selection of beers as well so that her male friends could enjoy trying out different beers. The place had to have a good selection of hard liquors to wrap up the party. She couldn’t think of any other place other than ‘75th Street Brewery’ when she thought about all these requirements. She also wanted to have dinner at the place, so the sports bar was just perfect. The bar served pretty good food and had a decent variety. She wasn’t expecting to have so many guests, but if there was a good turnout, the bar could accommodate; it shouldn’t be difficult to set up tables and chairs to fit 15, 16 guests or so. She started calling and emailing her friends about a week ago; she got quite a few responses. She finalized the time and told them the name and the address of the place along with the time when the party was scheduled to start, 8:00 pm Friday night. She just wanted to make sure that she, the organizer, was the first person to come to the party, so she arrived at the bar early.
Shortly after Diva ordered Martini, one of her friends, Ros showed up. “Happy Birthday!” said Ros and hugged Diva. “Thanks”, smiled Diva.
“Am I the first to arrive?”
”Looks like it.”
”How’re you feeling?”
”Not bad.” Diva smiled again and she had chitchat with Ros. Among her guests, Ros had the most impressive resume. She got her PhD in Biochemistry from NYU; that itself was a big achievement, but she started working in Wall Street right after. She’s a project manager at Sphere Fund Management, a major investment firm in Wall Street and her team looked into legal matters related to commodity trading. Her name was spelled ‘Ros’, R O S, because she was originally from Cambodia; she immigrated to Europe when she was 5 years old and then immigrated to US eventually when she was 10 years old. She was several years older than Diva; she wasn’t very tall, but she possessed the atmosphere of ‘tough girl’ in Wall Street.
Shortly after Ros arrived, Mia and her male friend arrived; Diva couldn’t tell whether her friend was just her male friend or her boyfriend. She met her at the speech class that she took at City College this fall. Diva still had a slight accent, and that bothered her a little. She thought that taking a speech class could help her improve her speaking ability. It turned out that most of those who took the same class spoke English as a second or a third language, and they were not originally from US. Mia was one of them; she was from Dominican Republic. She came to US when she was 8 years old; she came straight to New York. Since there were so many Spanish speakers in New York, she spoke English only when she needed to until she started college. As a result, she still sounded slightly awkward when she spoke English; that was why she took the speech class.
Mia said, “Happy Birthday!” “Thank you” said Diva.
”How are you doing?”
”Good. How are you?”
”I’m fine.”
Mia spoke like an ESL student. She introduced her friend to Diva. “Diva, this is George.”
“Hi, nice to meet you.”
”Nice to meet you, too, and happy birthday.”
”Thank you.”
Diva had chitchat with Mia and then she started talking with Ros again.
It was around 8:00 pm and Rene showed up. She was Diva’s best friend.
“Hey, how’s it going, Diva?”
”Having a drink and relaxing.” They hugged and Diva introduced Rene to everyone around. She was born and raised in Jersey City, right across Hudson River from the city; she didn’t go to college, but she was very talented in drawing and she eventually became a retoucher; she retouched posters and illustrations at a printing company in Queens. She was also several years older than Diva; she talked about dating, finding the right man and getting married all the time, but she was still single. She was in her early 30s, and as far as Diva could see, she would remain single for some time.
Diva’s group was occupying one table, but there were five people now, so they took another table and a couple of chairs. “How’s everything going?” asked Rene.
“Work is going ok. It’s a bit stressful, but it’s just a part of it. My boss is a psycho, but you know that already. Reading a couple of books. I’m a bit tired of dance classes. I’m into cardio boxing now. Great, great workout. It’s a so better workout than dance. What else …? I’ll go catch a movie with you this weekend? Maybe?”
”Sure. You look good.”
”Thanks.”
”How many more people are coming tonight?”
”You know, I don’t know. Maybe a couple of more? New friends from my speech class are coming, so I expect a few more guests.”
”Ok.” Rene ordered ‘Alexander’; she said that she wanted to order something fancy.
Tatyana and her boyfriend, Kamen, arrived at around 9:00 pm. Most Europeans weren’t very punctual, and they were no exceptions; Diva didn’t mind that though. After all, this was not a business meeting, and the night was still young. Kamen didn’t care much about his clothes, but Tatyana looked good. Many Europeans dressed well, and she found that that was one of the biggest differences between Americans and Europeans. New Yorkers dressed so much better than the rest of Americans, but it seemed that Europeans were a level above.
Malique and her female friend, Anne, arrived shortly after Tatyana and Kamen; Diva met Malique in the IT training class at City College that she took this fall. She actually didn’t know a lot about Malique, but he seemed to be a genuinely nice person. She chatted with Malique pretty often when they were in the class, and they exchanged phone numbers to keep in touch on the last day. Both Malique and Anne were African Americans. Malique was engaged to someone, but she wasn’t here today; she had a previous engagement apparently. Anne was Malique’s close friend and she liked partying, and that was why Malique invited her. She had an arty look; she wore glasses with a think black frame, a purple blouse and black jeans. She also wore boots though they did not look as nice as Diva’s boots.
There were eight people including Diva. They said ‘Three is a crowd’, so eight was a good crowd. They ordered drinks, food and enjoyed the night. There was no birthday cake or any special event, but she liked it that way.
At around 11:00 pm, a couple of people started leaving, and there were three left at around midnight, Diva, Rene and Ros. Diva went to the bar and ordered another drink; she then saw Adrian. Adrian was a regular, and he was her good bar friend. Good looking, good income and presumably good apartment; he actually lived in the bar’s neighborhood, so she assumed that he lived in a pretty expensive apartment. He worked at an investment firm and he was in his mid 30s. She sensed that there was certain emptiness in his life, but he appeared to acknowledge it and she liked that. She was not interested in getting involved with him romantically, but she enjoyed his company whenever she came to the bar. She had a small talk with him as usual and she told him that today was her birthday. “Your birthday? Let me buy you a drink. What do you want?” said he. She wanted to have hard liquor at this point and she asked for a shot of Jägermeister. After she finished the drink, he told her “Enjoy your birthday”; he sounded like he genuinely cared for her and was happy to entertain her on her birthday.
Diva also bumped into one of co-owners of the bar, Justin; he also offered a drink. “You should’ve told me!” said he.
“What are you having?”
”Jägermeister.”
”Jäge, huh? It’s on the house, and happy birthday!”
”Thanks.”
Ros left around midnight, and Diva and Rene were left. They spent another hour talking about different things, and Diva said, “Should we call it a night?” “If you want, I can stay longer,” said Rene.
”Nah, I had enough drinks and I had a lot of fun tonight.”
“Ok. Should we take a cab? You’ll get off first and I’ll just ask the driver to take me to Astoria.” Rene lived in Astoria, Queens with her younger sister and another roommate.
”Sure, let’s go.” She took her long leather coat from the chair; Rene helped her to wear it. They walked out of the bar and took a cab.
They reached Diva’s apartment building in Sunnyside and Diva got off after they exchanged a few words. As she walked up to her apartment on the 4th floor, she felt that she was on top of her game. She could be making more money, buying more clothes and buying a car though she wouldn’t’ be driving much since she lived in New York. She could be getting many more things and more expensive things. She could perhaps be thinking about her marriage and starting a family as well though she didn’t know when she’d be married or whom she’d be married to. Her life was far from complete as far as things and status that she could be obtaining, but, seven years after she left India, she felt that she had all she could have at her age. As a girl who’s growing up to become a woman from a country half around the world, she did very very well.
Short Stories (Fiction) | 3.05.2007 7:03 | 2 Comments
Chapter 2: Divya Virk
Diva got up late and took shower; today was Saturday, so she did not have to go to work. She had no previous engagement, so she was free all day long. She had minor hangover, so she took out a bottle of Aspirin from the shelf in the bathroom, took two pills, popped them into her month, went to the kitchen, opened fridge, took out a bottle of orange juice, poured it in a glass and drank it to swallow pills. She then went back to her bedroom and lied down on her bed with her bathrobe on. She thought about what she was going to do today and she decided to go take a long walk. She’d just think about things as she turned 25; she also liked taking a long walk in the city, so that sounded like a good plan. She got dressed casually; she wore lime color sweater and blue jeans. She only spent 5 minutes for makeup and wore a black leather half coat; she took black boots, same boots that she wore last night and went out of the door. She walked to the nearest train station, 46th Street – Bliss Street in Sunnyside and waited for 7 Train to get to the city. As she waited for her train, she started thinking about how she got where she was today.
—– —– —– —– —–
Divya Virk was born in the suburb of Delhi; she was the second child of Ameet Virk and Preeya Virk. They had a 2 years old son when Divya was born. Ameet Virk owned several hotels and he also invested in other assets and properties; he was a very wealthy man in Indian standard. Even compared to those who lived in countries like US and UK, he had a good income. He took his children’s education seriously; he believed that they ought to have good education and they should be able to earn their living on their own instead of just inheriting what he had. He was fond of reading and learning new things, and he believed that learning was an essential part of one’s life. He also spent a fair amount of time tutoring Diva when she was young, even though he was a very busy man. His effort paid off, and by the time she reached 10th grade, she was one of top students in NCT, National Capital Territory of Delhi. She kept up with her schoolwork, and she did well in 11th and 12th grades. While he took his daughter’s education very seriously, he was very liberal politically. He was much more conservative than Europeans, but he was clearly one of the most liberal people among those he was acquainted with in India. He traveled to many countries on business, and he believed that his country would follow the liberal trend like many European countries though it could take many decades for culture and politics in the country to be transformed. It was his firm belief that he should raise his children accordingly; he believed that they ought to be prepared for the inevitable future.
When she was in 12th grade, she took SAT and TOEFL; these tests were for students in US, but she convinced her parents that she wanted to take these tests in order to see where she was compared to students outside of India. Ameet Virk, her father, was actually also curious to see how she would perform, so he let her take these tests. She did well; she marked a good enough score to get into top universities in US on SAT and she marked a score above which most universities required foreign students on TOEFL. She then convinced him to allow her to apply to universities in US; she told him that she’d just want to see how universities in US would evaluate her schoolwork. He felt rather hesitant as he thought about where this would lead to, but he wanted to see whether she’d be accepted to universities in US. He allowed her to apply to five universities, UC (University of California) Berkeley, UCLA, UC Davis, US Santa Cruz and UC Santa Barbara; he thought about a small possibility of his daughter’s going to a university in US at this point, though he did not tell her about it. He only allowed her to apply to universities in California because California was closer to India than most states; as far as a person in India was concerned, there was not much difference between California and New York, but he somehow felt that California was like a country next to India, while New York was like a far away country. He did not want her daughter to go to a university far away from Delhi, but according to his principle of raising his children to be able to adapt to the 21st century culture, politics and economy, he could not say no if she told him that she wanted to go to a university in US. He would also feel a little guilty if he were to force her to stay in India. He was very fond of reading books written by Americans and Europeans and watching American and Europeans movies. He picked books and movies carefully and let her read and watch; she grew to enjoy reading books and watching movies in English, and he could see that her mindset was departing from that of other teenagers in India. He was concerned about her going way, but at this point, she was not going anywhere and she was just sending out applications, so he just let her do what she wanted.
4 months later, she received answers from all 5 universities. UC Berkeley, UCLA, UC Davis and US Santa Cruz all rejected her, but UC Santa Barbara accepted her. As if she planned all along, she methodically tried to convince her parents to send her to California; she applied for scholarships already and she already got her one scholarship, and thus, there would not be a big financial burden. Preeya Virk, her mother, hated the idea, and she blamed her husband for Divya’s wishing to go to US. Ameet Virk had mixed feeling; his heart said no, but his reason said yes. Also he felt that it would be hypocritical for him to convince his daughter to stay home and go to a university in Delhi because he did not educate her that way. After weeks of agony, he allowed Divya to go to the university in US; he had very difficult time convincing his wife, but he managed to stop her from going hysteric.
—– —– —– —– —–
” That was the beginning,” said Diva to herself. Her train came; she got on it and left for the city.
Short Stories (Fiction) | 3.05.2007 7:02 | 1 Comment
Chapter 3: First Man
As Diva’s train moved toward its last stop, 42nd Street Station in Manhattan, she started thinking about her momentous moments in her life. She started thinking about her first man.
—– —– —– —– —–
Diva and a couple of others from her math class occupied a table in the main study room located on the first floor of the main library.
She already finished her first quarter at the university and she did very well; she only took three classes because she had no idea what they were like and she wanted to arrange her schedule so that she could comfortably finish all her assignments and read all her textbooks a couple of times at least. They could be very challenging or they would be pretty easy; she didn’t know. She took a math class, an English class and an anthropology class. She got A+ in Math, A in English and B+ in Anthropology. It was a good start, and the next quarter, Winter Quarter 1995, started a couple of weeks later; she was already in the middle of the quarter. Her friends also started calling her ‘Diva’ instead of ‘Divya’; ‘Diva’ was a more familiar sound to Americans and she actually liked the sound of it.
Many students, particularly those in freshman year and sophomore year, spent a lot of time in the study room, so naturally, it was also a place for them to meet their friends. Some came to the table, had chitchat and left while others spent many hours chatting. Some didn’t talk about anything related to their study while others opened their textbooks and studied for their classes. Students in freshman year and sophomore year met other students in their classes and parties, but they also met other students in this study room. Since Diva was a bit hesitant to go to parties, she only made new friends and acquaintances in the study room. This was also where she met Syed. He was a little older than Diva; he was 25 years old. After he finished high school, he went to work for a couple of years; he then decided to go to a university, so he was older than most students. His parents were from Pakistan and he and his parents came to US when he was 10 years old; his father passed away a couple of years later and her mother got remarried shortly after that. Since he spent more than half of his life in US, he was more like Americans; he refused to believe that though. He insisted that he was a Pakistani. Syed sat on the opposite side of the table from Diva; he asked, “What are you studying?” “Math”, answered Diva.
“Which class?”
”Second-quarter calculus”
“How are you doing in that class?”
”I’m doing ok. What classes are you taking?”
”Accounting, business and anthropology.” He paused and changed the subject. “You know, I see you every time I come here. Don’t you do anything besides studying?”
”Not exactly.” answered Diva a little uncomfortably. She was taking her study very seriously, and she didn’t think that there was anything wrong with it. But she also felt that she should be doing other things since she came all the way to US, though she didn’t have any specific idea. Syed then asked, “How long do you plan to be here?” “In US?” Diva asked.
”No. How long do you plan to be in this library? Until what time do you plan to continue studying?”
”I don’t know. Maybe until nine or so.”
”It’s already quarter to nine.”
”Yeah.”
”Where do you live?”
”Isla Vista.”
”You mean, I.V.?”
”Yeah, I.V.”
”Do you have any roommates?”
”No. I live alone.”
”Ok. Do you feel like having a few drinks?”
”Tonight?”
”Yeah, right now.” Syed was talking to Diva, but he also made eye contacts with her friends, Sherry, Kerry and Ace. He was suggesting having a small party. Diva looked around, and every set of eyes told Diva to say yes; she said, “Ok.” Then Syed said, “Ok, I’ll drive and stop at a liquor store. We’ll get some drinks and go back to your apartment.”
No one had any more than three drinks; She barely finished one beer because she was not used to drinking. It turned out to be a pretty innocent party but they all enjoyed their companies; they all felt that they got to know each other more. Though they were all still growing up to become adults, Syed looked like someone closest to the full adult; he talked the most among five. It turned out that he was engaged once and he was going to get married, but it did not work out; he explained about it in detail, but she wasn’t paying much attention. Small party was over at around midnight and Syed and Diva’s friends all left shortly after; Syed took Diva’s friends home since he had a car.
They had a similar small party almost every week since then. Faces changed a little from time to time. Sometimes Sherry was not there; other times, Kerry brought a friend of hers. Syed didn’t come every party, but he was the only one who could legally buy alcohol beverages, so he bought some beers and other drinks and left them at her place. They got to know more and more about each other as time passed; also he started coming to her place alone occasionally. One day, he asked her casually “Are you seeing anyone? I mean, do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.”
”Ok, how do you feel about Ace?”
”He’s ok.”
“Just ok?”
”Ok, he’s kind of cute.”
”But you’re not interested in him … romantically?”
”No.”
”If I start seeing you, that is, if I start dating with you, I’m not taking you from anyone, am I?”
”No.”
She sensed that he was interested in getting involved with her romantically; this was not the first time that she sensed it, but this time, she felt his getting much closer and approaching her. She had mixed feeling; she did not feel that he was particularly attractive, though he had a better than average look. She did not find that he was very intelligent, though he could have decent conversations. But she was curious; she wanted to find out about men, and that curiosity overtook her lack of interest in him.
When she realized, she was naked alongside him. She did not feel the pain that she heard or read about; maybe it was just a myth. But she was so stiff and felt rather awkward. There was mutual consent; he was not forceful at all, but she felt that she let him do what he wanted. “Was it your first time?” asked he; he apparently wanted confirmation. She said, “Yes.” She did not ask but she knew that it was not his first time; he told her about his past relationships before, and she knew that he had some experience as knowledge, but now, she knew empirically.
As time passed, she started feeling more comfortable with the physical relationship, but she could not like him as a man. He was not a bad man, but she was simply not attracted to him. Since he came to her place so often and they started seeing each other almost everyday, she gave a spare key to him. But only after two months, she wanted to end it. He was in her apartment one day, and out of the blue, she said, “I want my key back.” ”Ok.” There was no resistance from him; he acted as if he knew that the moment would come any day. He took out his key to her apartment and handed it out to her. “Thanks,” said she.
”I’ve got to go run some errands.”
”Ok.”
”I guess I’ll see you around?”
”Yeah, sure.”
There was sad smile on his face as he left; he did not try to show it to her, but she caught it.
—– —– —– —– —–
Her train was slowing down as it approached the last station. To this day, Diva disliked Syed, though she did not hate him; he was simply not her type. Train stopped and doors opened. As she stepped out of the train, her face expressed emptiness; she was not ashamed of her association with him, but she felt lack of romance in her life. It was not that he was the only person that she was associated with up to now. She had a few brief relationships here and there. But he was her first man, and there was really no romance in that relationship; it was mechanical. She did not feel sad, but she wondered if something was missing in her life.
Short Stories (Fiction) | 3.05.2007 7:01 | 1 Comment
Chapter 4: Going Back to India for the First Time
Diva walked up stairs from the platform, got out of the train station, reached the ground level and started taking a walk. She could’ve taken another train, but she wanted to walk. She walked along Broadway and walked toward Columbus Circle. As she walked, she started recalling her first homecoming to India.
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It was late summer of 1995, right after the summer quarter; she went back to India for the first time since she started going to the university in US and she stayed there for two weeks; Diva arrived at the airport at 5:00 pm as scheduled; she felt tired after the long flight from California. Her father was there to pick her up; he left his work early for it that day. She had chitchat with him on her way home. As she arrived home, her father unloaded her suitcase. She just carried her backpack and entered her house. Her mother was waiting for her. Though her mother was not a very expressive person, Diva could see that she was very happy to welcome her back. Her bother was there, too. How her family welcomed her was very unusual as an Indian family, but there was an exception in everything. Her family was very reserved and they tended not to act emotionally; family ties were strong, but, on the surface, there was little screaming, laughing out loud or crying.
She spent the next couple of days meeting her relatives; she also met a couple of her friends. But, after a while, she started feeling a little bored with meeting relatives and old friends.
It was a week after she came back to India; she had almost no jet lag. She woke up early. After she took bath, she decided to go take a walk. She walked along Laxmi Nagar toward Yamuna River. As she reached Sharkarpur, she took a left turn and walked into the south side of Laxmi Nagar where there were many small shops, offices and factories. She came here often in the past and she knew that it was not the prettiest part of Delhi, but she suddenly thought “Wow, this place is a total mess.” She walked around more and she found many houses. She also found sewage filled with dirty water and trashes. She obviously saw this so many times in the past since she grew up in India, and sewage was used the same way in the past, but she had a very strong reaction today. “This place is fucking filthy.” She was not the kind of person who cursed when she spoke, but she could not help. “What’s up with these fries and mosquitoes?” She felt a little strange about feeling so negatively about the country where she grew up, but that was her honest feeling.
After she took a long walk, she went home. It was hot outside, so she was sweating. She decided to take bath, but she found that water was not running. She couldn’t understand what was happening for a second, but she realized that this was nothing uncommon in India. She felt slightly irritated, but there was nothing she could do. She just decided to wait until water started running again. Later that day, electricity went off; it happened a couple of times for the last couple of days, but electricity was off for longer than a couple of hours this time. She felt like cursing again. By the time electricity was back, she was feeling sleepy and she decided to go to bed.
—– —– —– —– —–
She was approaching Columbus Circle. She thought, “It’s not that I hated India, but it was the first time that I recognized my transformation.”
Short Stories (Fiction) | 3.05.2007 7:00 | No Comments