Archive for May, 2007
Chapter 5: Big Kittens
She reached Columbus Circle and said to herself, “What the hell? I’m not doing anything special today.” She continued walking and headed toward the direction of ‘Broadway Dance Studio’ on Broadway between 74th and 75th; the wind blew and her long dark hair waved in the sky. The next thing that came to her mind was a day at ‘Big Kittens’.
—– —– —– —– —–
Diva held a glass of Long Island Tea; she already had a glass of the same drink today, and she was having a buzz. She felt pretty safe though, since she was a regular at ‘Big Kittens’ and she was with her friend, Audrey. It was also relatively safe to walk around downtown, Santa Barbara at night; that was where ‘Big Kittens’ was located and she lived in an apartment a couple of blocks from there. She moved in there six months ago. She knew the bartender and she also knew security guys who stood outside. ‘Big Kittens’ was a small club, and it was a pretty popular hangout among college students in Santa Barbara. She started coming here after she turned 21. She went to parties pretty regularly, but she rarely went to bars and clubs before she turned 21. Of course, she couldn’t go there officially since she had to be over 21 to enter bars and clubs in US.
She tried smoking pot a couple of times and tried a couple of other drugs by this time, but she did these things out of her curiosity rather than out of her rage, anger or frustration; though she was perfectly aware that taking such drugs was unlawful, she just wanted to experiment just to get an idea of what they were like.
She was in her junior year in college, and the second quarter, Winter Quarter 1997 started two weeks ago. She had not turned into a party girl, but she was definitely spending more time at bars and clubs than in the past. She was not a bad student, but she was a little burned out this quarter. Also she was at the age that she wanted to party a little, so the combination of two made her a bit outgoing than she used to.
”Did you hook up with that guy …? What’s his name? Rick. Did you hook up with Rick?” asked Audrey. “No,” answered Diva.
”No? What happened? Didn’t he invite you to his birthday party?”
”Yes.”
”And? You dressed up and went to the party, right?”
”Yes.”
”Diva …” Audrey looked at her and longed for an answer.
”Well, there were a couple of other girls and one guy.”
”Ok.”
”He has a girlfriend?”
”No. But he might have a very close friend.”
”Ok. What’s she like?”
”He’s a good looking guy.”
”Yeah, I know. I’m asking you about his close friend.”
”I know. I’m talking about his close friend, and he’s a good looking guy.” There was a short pause, and then Diva said, “Maybe he likes men.”
”He’s gay?”
”Maybe.” Diva said it in a slightly depressing voice.
”There are many other guys, you know?” Audrey tried hard not to laugh.
”Yeah, I know.” Audrey changed the subject and asked. “How’re you doing in math classes?”
”Badly.”
”Really?”
”Really.”
”But you’ll pass your classes.”
”Maybe, maybe not.”
Diva and Audrey continued chatting for another hour and left.
—– —– —– —– —–
”That was when I more or less gave up on the idea of pursuing a career in math. It was not for me. I liked the subject, and I’m glad that I made enough effort to get the degree in math, but becoming a ’mathematician’ was not for me. It just wasn’t meant to be,” thought her. “This was when I lost my scholarship because of my unimpressive grades; the scholarship did not pay my expenses, but it paid my tuition at least. I had to ask my parents extra money to pay my tuition from then on. I told my father that my grades were dropping because my classes were getting more difficult, which was partially true. Luckily his business was doing very well. I was his only daughter, so he didn’t ask me too many questions; he just started sending me more money.” It was a difficult time for her actually, but she also missed ‘good old’ college days.
Short Stories (Fiction) | 3.05.2007 6:58 | 1 Comment
Chapter 6: New Job and Moving to New York
She walk-passed ‘Broadway Dance Studio’ and headed to ‘Espresso Yourself’, her favorite coffee house in Upper West Side. As she reached the coffee house, she ordered smoked salmon sandwich and latte; the sandwich used homemade bread. It had robust taste and it went well with smoked salmon; lettuce, sliced onions and cream cheese accompanied perfectly. She sipped Latte and took a bite of the sandwich, and then her memory lane forwarded and started replaying “Divya ‘Diva’ Virk 1998”.
—– —– —– —– —–
Six months before her graduation, Diva started looking for a job in US. She’d spend four and a half years in US by the time she graduated; most of her friends already graduated but she needed to go to the coming summer quarter and Fall Quarter 1998 because she had a couple of classes left to take in order to graduate. In one quarter, she did very badly and failed a couple of classes.
When she came here, she was only thinking about getting a university degree, but at this point, she felt that she wanted to explore this country more. She had not made the definitive decision to spend the rest of her life here, but she definitely wanted to spend many more years. Also she wanted to start working because she was slightly tired of being a student; she enjoyed the last four years and it was actually a very fulfilling period of time, but she needed a change.
She had to admit that going to a graduate school was not realistic at all though. Her grades in her senior year were quite horrendous; she was barely passing required classes and her GPA (Grade Point Average) kept dropping. Not many graduate schools would accept her because of her low GPA; she was getting a degree from one of top universities in the nation, so if she tried hard, she should probably find a school that would accept her. But even if she managed that, she would not get grants or scholarships, which meant that she could not afford to pay her tuition or living expenses. If she worked almost full time while she went to the graduate school, maybe she would be able to pay her tuition and living expenses, but the option did not appeal to her, nor did it seem realistic. Business schools and law schools often did not care much about grades if the candidate had work experience, but she did not have any real work experience; she was not particularly interested in getting MBA or law degree, either. There was another major obstacle; she had to take a test before she applied to a graduate school. She had to take GRE, GMAT or LSAT; she obviously had to get a decent score. Was she prepared? No. Was she motivated enough to study for the test while she studied for remaining classes in college? No. The more she thought about going to a graduate school, the less realistic the option seemed.
There was yet another option, but she did not give it a serious thought; she could go back to India and think about what to do next when she got there. This barely crossed her mind; her spiritual foundation was established here as she spent the last four years from when she was 18 years old to when she was 22 years old; her heart really belonged here.
She decided to look for a job in IT sector; since she was getting a degree in math, IT was a closely related field. Also even if it turned out that she did not have a good aptitude to become an IT professional, she could definitely apply skills that she’d acquire later on. IT skills were essential in any industries including banking, finance, insurance and accounting. The more IT skills she had, the better. She decided to start looking for a job locally initially and she asked one of her friends to help her create a resume to get started. Her friend, Rosario, worked at a local computer software company, and she’d been working in IT sector for the last four year or so. She took a Taekwondo class a year ago out of curiosity; she wanted to do some exercise also. The class was open to anyone; this was why quite a few like Rosario, who weren’t USCB students, were in the same class. That was where she met her. Rosario advised her to stretch as much as she could. For example, Diva took a programming language class in college; she wrote the name of the programming language in ‘Skills’ section of her resume. She did not write ‘proficient’ because that would be false information, but she did not use any of the following phrases ‘entry level’, ‘beginner level’ and ‘intermediate level’. She also wrote, “B.S. Degree in Theoretical Mathematic, strong emphasis in Software Engineering”; this was not entirely accurate, though it was not false information. After Rosario and she met several times, she made a presentable resume; she then started sending it out to many companies locally. Within a month, she sent out over 100 copies.
She did not get many responses, but one local independent software developer responded her; the software developer, Elias Hoenig, wrote computer software for engraving machines and he was looking for someone who could develop algorithms to analyze surface areas of variety of objects. He figured that, since Diva was getting her degree in math, she might have a good aptitude. After the first interview, she spent some time studying programming and came up with an algorithm to analyze the surface area of a simple object. He found that it was actually quite useful and he gave her several assignments; she got her first job as a software developer though it was just a part time job.
While she worked for Elias, she sent our more copies of her resume; she enjoyed working for him, but it was just a part job. She needed to get a full time job at some point. She made sure that she added this job in her ‘Experience’ section though; there was no ‘Experience’ section before, but there was one now. Big, big difference. After a month, she started thinking about applying for jobs in other parts of US. Her main focus up to this point was to find a job, but she asked herself what she really wanted to do. As she grew up in Delhi, she was a city girl; she could not imagine living in the suburb. She was actually getting a little tired of living in Santa Barbara, a small town in California. She’d been to Los Angeles and she applied for jobs there, but she was not very fond of L.A., either; the city was spread out too thin and disconnected. She didn’t find energy or vitality; she loved watching movies including Hollywood movies, but the city was very unattractive to her. She then started thinking about going to a different part of US, preferably far from here. She also wanted to get a better idea of what this country had to offer. She thought, “Where do I want to go? A major city and a real city. East coast? Northeast US? Boston, New York, Philadelphia and Washington D.C.” She paused for a minute and said, ”New York is my destination.” She made a few changes in her resume and started sending copies out.
She was not following news closely, but the luck was on her side; it was 1998, and it was in the middle of ‘Dot com’ era, the greatest tech boom of the century. All computer software companies were looking for employees and they were glad to take fresh college graduates. Whoever wanted to hire her needed to sponsor her to get a business visa because she was not a permanent US resident, but this was when employers did not mind sponsoring people like her.
She started sending out copies of her resume to computer software companies in New York. That itself became like a job; she spent a couple of hours on it everyday for the next couple of months. In the end, she sent out about two hundred copies of her resume in total. She got several responses and got phone interviews. Interviewers were generally not very impressed because of her lack of experience but she was getting responses at least. After she had phone interviews and exchanged several email correspondences, she had a couple of employees who were interested in meeting her if she were wiling to travel to New York. She counted money she made from her part time programming job; she had enough to buy a round trip ticket between Los Angeles and New York. She stopped at a couple of travel agencies and checked ticket prices and flight schedules; she then bought a ticket. Her arrival date was set to December 14th, right after her final exams; she would come back here on December 21st. She also booked a hotel. After she made the arrangement, she continued sending out copies of her resume, but she slowed down a bit; she also had to study for her exams. Next couple of months passed rather quickly and she took her last final exam in college on December 12th. She packed her stuff the next day and took the flight to New York the following day from LAX.
She took a redeye flight and arrived in New York in the morning; it was snowing, and she saw Manhattan approaching as she took a cab from JFK. Skyscrapers and red stone buildings. Black, White, Puerto Ricans and Chinese. Graphite here and there. She could see trains running. It was presumably cold outside because so many people were wearing long coats, but they were walking around the city as if they didn’t care about cold weather. There was energy in the city and she felt vibe.
She arrived at her hotel; she unloaded her suitcase and checked in. Hotel workers spoke some eastern European language when they spoke each other; she couldn’t tell which language it was, but she could tell that she was in New York, a true melting pot. She did not have any appointment today, so shortly after she put her suitcase in her room, she went out to take a walk. She was just happy to be there. New York was more than half way around the world from India; she made it, though she didn’t know what’d happen in the future. She stopped at a coffee shop and had Latte; the coffee tasted so good for some reason. She wondered if it was the coffee that tasted so good or it was the atmosphere and her excitement that made her feel that the coffee tasted so good. She’d never been to New York before, so she wasn’t quite sure where in the city she was, but she loved every part of the city. Before she realized, it was dark outside; she just had a sliced pizza at a nearby pizza place and went back to her hotel. She wanted to get up early next morning, so she took shower, watched TV for an hour or so and went to sleep.
She had the first appointment at a recruitment firm in the city. She met a recruiter and told him that she was looking for an entry position in the city; he told her that a lot of people were getting hired this year. He also told her that, though she’d be in the city only for a week, he’d try his best to set up interviews with his clients, her potential employers. This never happened in the end.
Next day, she had a job interview at ‘Prince Software Development’, a computer software company in the city; the lead developer interviewed her. He told her flat out that she lacked skills though he thanked her effort to come to New York. The interview was rather brief and he told her that he’d get back to her in a couple of weeks.
She did not have any appointment the following day. She just went sight seeing in the city. She was not particularly interested in visiting typical tourist sights, but she went to the Empire State Building. She was not impressed by the building itself, but she was impressed by the whole atmosphere of the city. She felt that the city was calling her. New York met her expectations; she knew that it was the place where she wanted to be.
She had another job interview the following day at ‘FSD (short for Finance Software Development)’, another computer software company in the city. As she reached the company’s office, she was taken to the main conference room. Five minutes later, the interviewer came in, passed her a test and he told her that he’d come back later. She was taken aback; she was not prepared. He came back a couple of times to check up on her and he gave her many hints. In the end, she basically flanked; she could not answer any of questions in the test.
”Ok, so, you don’t know anything,” said the interviewer. He continued, “I admire you for flying out here though. It’s a long way from India. You’re originally from there, right?” She nodded and he continued, “I’m not afraid of taking beginners. I understand that you don’t know much about software development but you have strong background in math. This is a big plus.” He talked some more and he told her that he’d get back to her in several weeks. She didn’t do on her test well at all, but the interview itself went well.
She spent her last day in this trip walking around the city; she packed that night and left the city next day.
After she came back from New York, she spent rather uneventful yearend; she spent New Year’s Eve with Rosario and her son Aaron. She got her grades by then and she confirmed that she passed all classes; she had B.S. Degree in theoretical mathematics now. Her parents were generous enough to offer her a financial support for a period of time, but she insisted that she’d do without. Elias was paying her about a thousand dollars a month, so she was able to get by if she lived like a student. At the end of January, she received two emails from New York. One was from Prince Software Development; they did not offer her a job. They cited her lack of experience. The other was from FSD; they offered her a job; the email was to the point:
”Dear Divya,
We’d like to offer you a job. While we find that you lack experience, given your strength in math and science, we believe that you’d be able to make a great contribution to our team in time. The base salary is 36k a year, that is, 3k a month. We will pay you 80% of the full salary, $2,400 a month for the first two months, which will be your training period. At the end of the training period, assuming that you acquire necessary skills and become productive workforce, we will pay you 3k a month, the full salary. You will be reviewed once a year for a possible raise. You will also receive two bonuses a year. The amount of each bonus is unspecified at this time.
If you’d like to take this offer, please email me back and let me know.
Brian Saunders
President
FSD Inc.”
She took the offer right away and started planning to move to New York. A month later, she arrived in the city with her suitcase and started working in mid March.
While she received the relocation fee of $2,500 upon her arrival, she had difficult time finding an apartment. After all, she was in a new city; she didn’t know anyone. Also she was a bit tight financially; she typically had to pay one-month rent as deposit and the last month rent upon moving in. She was staying at a hotel now, so she had to pay for it, too. She thought about her monthly budget and figured that the rent needed to be under $1,000. But for that amount, it was very difficult for her to find a single apartment in the city. She also started looking for a roommate in addition to looking for a single apartment.
After about a month of search, she found a room on W. 14th Street. The landlady was a middle aged Japanese woman who spoke poor English; her apartment had 5 rooms and 1 bathroom. She had 5 roommates including her teenage daughters; one of them was moving out in a week or so, and she was looking for a new roommate. When Diva walked into the apartment for the first time, she found it a chaotic place. But she was a little tired of staying at hotels, and she wanted to move into an apartment, with a couple of roommates if necessary, as soon as possible.
She moved into the apartment 2 weeks later. Shortly after she moved in, she realized how messy and chaotic the apartment was. It was originally a small factory and it had a very rough interior structure; she saw pipes and wires sticking out. Rooms did not have proper doors; the floor was raw concrete. It was a livable place, but it was not a comfortable residence. However, what really made it messy and chaotic were her 5 roommates. Coco was the name of Japanese landlady. It was actually not a Japanese name; it was her nickname, but since her American friends had hard time remembering her real name, she told them to call her ‘Coco’. Coco had no job; she just collected rents and paid her expenses out of the sum. She spent more than she made, so she kept accumulating her credit card debt. She was very distressed and depressed; she drank beer and smoked cigarettes all day long. She was almost a chain smoker. She had two daughters and they occupied one room; they were 12 years old and 14 years old. Diva didn’t know much about these teenagers, but they certainly didn’t look like good students; 12 years old had green hair and 14 years old had purple hair. They pierced a dozen different places collectively and they both had nose piercing and tongue piercing; they looked like they’d stub their mother someday. They might be taking drugs and sleeping with boys, but Diva didn’t bother to find out. Other two were James, 19 years old from Texas who wanted to become an actor and Abraham, 29 years old D.J. James changed his jobs constantly; he said that he wanted to become an actor, but it seemed that he was preoccupied with scoring different drugs. It was not uncommon that he came back home looking like overdosed. Abraham, on the other hand, actually made pretty good money by working as a D.J.; he made about $300 a night, and he worked 4 nights a week on average. But he kept bringing different girls back to the apartment so often, and that bothered her. She was not jealous, but she just didn’t like seeing so many half naked girls walking around in the middle of the night. James and Abraham seemed to get along; they were good drug buddies. They also brought some strange guests often; most of them did not have regular 9-5 jobs and they looked like drug users. They came late and they stayed until early in the morning. Walls were thin, so she could hear their talking, and as a result, she had hard time sleeping. She didn’t dislike them; she actually got along with them fine and she often had chitchat with them. But she really wanted to have a nice quiet apartment. She saved some money before the end of the year, found a single apartment in Sunnyside, Queens and moved there a week before New Year’s Day.
—– —– —– —– —–
She finished her sandwich and Latte as she wrapped up her thought. She finished the sandwich faster than usual; she was hungry after the long walk. She looked outside, and at that moment, she found her solitude.
Short Stories (Fiction) | 3.05.2007 6:58 | No Comments
Chapter 7: A Week in Tokyo
Shortly before her birthday, she planned a trip to Tokyo. She wanted to explore many different parts of the world, and she thought about going to visit Europe, South America or East Asia. She wasn’t interested in going somewhere so close like Canada or Mexico, but she also didn’t want to spend too much time just to reach her destination; she crossed off Africa, Australia and Middle East from her list for this reason. She wanted to go visit Europe, but that seemed a little too ordinary. South America felt a little unsafe; though she had grown to become a very independent, capable, and strong woman, she still didn’t feel that it was a very good idea for a single young woman to travel to a country with high crime rates. She picked East Asia after these considerations and decided to spend a week in Tokyo. She felt that, while China’s economy was growing rapidly, Tokyo was still the center of Asian economy; the city was also influential city culturally and politically. It was supposed to be a relatively safe city as well. It felt right and she made the arrangement to visit the city between late November and early December, shortly after her birthday. And today, a week after her birthday was her departure date.
Diva flew from JFK to Narita, Tokyo International Airport; she arrived in Japan around noon, and she took the express train to get to the city. She took some time to find her way around, but she managed to get to Akabane district, the outer edge of Tokyo, where her hotel was located. She checked into her hotel; her room was the smallest room she ever stayed in her life. She spent the next six days sightseeing in Tokyo. She spent a day in Ikebukuro district, a day in Ueno district, two days in Shijuku district and two days in Shibuya district. Tokyo was as crowded as Delhi, though the city was much more modernized and cleaner. But she got the impression that people moved faster. Trains and buses ran with the average interval of four minutes or so, and they all came on time. People got on and off swiftly. At night, neon signs brightened up the city; Times Square in New York had a bunch of neon signs, but Tokyo was much more impressive in that regard. Also the city was full of Japanese people; it was obvious, but she’d never been to any place full of Japanese people. While she found that all major cities around the world had similar structures, she also realized that she reached yet another part of the world. She also realized that there were so many different parts of the world that she’d never been before; in fact, she’d been to only a couple of different places in this world. On one hand, she felt good about managing to come to yet another different part of the world, but, on the other hand, she felt a little sad and disappointed that there was so much more to see. When the thought came to her mind, it was already her last day in Tokyo. She went back to her hotel early so that she had enough time to pack her stuff. She left the hotel next morning, took the express train to reach the airport and took a flight back to JFK.
Short Stories (Fiction) | 3.05.2007 6:55 | No Comments
Chapter 8: Quitting
After she came back from Tokyo, she suddenly started feeling slightly unsatisfied with her life. She had a good life; 8 out of 10 classmates in college would envy where she got so far. But she wondered if it was a great life. She thought that maybe she had a great life, but she wondered, “Is great good enough?” She was not asking questions in terms of what she could obtain materialistically. She felt that, though she had a good life, it was too predictable. She also felt that there was not a great difference between her life and the life of a farmer in her motherland. It’s true that she made a lot more money than the farmer; in fact, this was no comparison. She would own a lot more than the farmer. She’d have a house, a car, many pieces of furniture, clothes, books, DVDs, an expensive computer, a big TV with the latest technology and what have you. The farmer would not own even one tenths of what she’d own. She’d go to watch movies, musicals, operas, go to concerts and go see many live shows like standup comedies and magic shows. The farmer would never experience any of these. But she felt that two were essentially the same in the sense that they both followed routines. She met a client, discussed his/her project, outlined the development process, its timeline and its budget, made changes in the process, got approval, worked on the project, finished it, billed it and collected the payment. It was a routine and she just repeated over and over. If and when she became a project manager, the routine might change slightly, but it would still be a routine. She might become a corporate executive one day and make millions of dollars a year, but it would still be a routine. She thought, “I came all the way to New York just to repeat routines and follow procedures. Money is good, but … shouldn’t there be more in life …?” It was a profound question, but it was also a dangerous question for her to ask. She then wondered, “Does this mean that I should just quit what I’m doing now? Then what?” She paused and said to herself, “That’s just crazy.” She just kept thinking. Brian Saunders, her boss, was away in the second half of December; his wife was from Poland and all her family members lived in Poland, so Christmas meant a lot to her. That meant that Christmas meant a lot to him as well, and this was why his Christmas vacation was longer than most, though he actually carried his laptop everywhere and worked whenever he could. But this gave her room to breeze more easily and allowed her to spend the time in the office as she liked. She was supposed to be working on a few things, but she spent a lot of time thinking about her career and future.
Rather quiet Christmas for Diva came and went. Office was closed during and after Christmas. She spent her yearend meeting friends, dining out, watching movies, reading books and taking a walk everyday. She was out of town for a week this month, so she didn’t feel like going anywhere outside of New York; she just stayed there. On New Year’s Eve, she went out with a couple of friends, but she didn’t do anything special; she preferred to spend rather uneventful New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. She wanted to take it easy and relax rather than to party hard in the last week of the year; besides, she was not much of a party girl, though she wanted to have a nice small birthday party this year.
Office opened on January 2nd; she went back to work. Her boss flew back from Poland on that day also. Work started slowly initially, but the first week turned out to be a very stressful week. The company created a rather elaborate online application for a financial institution last year and it turned out that the application had many problems. This was nothing uncommon; every new application tended to have many problems and they would be resolved in time. She did not work on the complex backend logic of the application, but she designed most of the front end interface; it was her responsibility and she had to do her part of resolve some of problems. Brian was very unhappy; he was never happy, but he seemed to be more unhappy than usual. Maybe there was a marriage problem. Maybe his wife’s parents were giving him hard time. Maybe the client, the financial institution, was making an unreasonable demand, or, maybe, he had ADHD, Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder; he had very poor impulse control. Whatever reasons he had, he was out of control; he yelled, screamed and cursed at her. This was not the first time that he yelled, screamed or cursed at her, so though she felt unpleasant, she thought that it was nothing unusual. A week passed, and he was more aggravated. She could not understand exactly why because, though she understood that there were still many problems to be resolved, she was working hard. She worked for more than 50 hours a day, so she was doing her part as an employee. At the end of the second week, she felt very tired and stressed; she also felt that what he was demanding her to do was unreasonable. The third week was no better than the second week, and she suddenly started thinking about quitting her job. She thought, “This is so unreasonable. It just doesn’t make sense. What is this cursing? I can understand high demand and long hours but not these yelling, screaming and cursing. This is absurd.” She talked to her friends in New York and she also called friends out of state. Some told her to get over it and forget about it, while others told her to do whatever she felt like doing. She was distressed, aggravated and confused. And then, she made one phone call to talk to her friend in California; he was not a close friend of hers but she often felt that he was the voice of truth. He was from Brazil and he experienced a number of difficulties in his life; there was something charismatic about him, and she wanted to hear what he had to say about the matter.
”Hey, how are you?” said Lima, her friend.
”Little tired and distressed.”
”What’s going on?”
She started telling him what she’d been going through and asked his opinion.
”You work for a computer software company, right?”
”Yes.”
”You’re not in military.”
”No.”
”You’re not a coal miner, either.”
”No.”
”Ok, I tell you what I think.” He continued, ”This guy is a psycho. Cursing is something that military people do; if soldiers don’t obey orders, they can’t get things done. They start dying. There have to be rules and regulations for them to obey. They can’t be sitting and thinking about creativity or innovation. They simply need to give orders and obey orders. That’s probably the only place that cursing can be used, but even that is arguable. You work for a computer software company, and there is no place for cursing there. Also that’s not how people treat other people. I don’t’ know him, and I’ve never met him, but I can tell you that he’s really doing what he shouldn’t be doing. He’s hurting other people. He’s really acting inhumanely. He’s making you and others very unhappy, and that’s absolutely unnecessary. Do you agree?”
”I agree.”
”Ok, let me ask you something now. Let’s say that you keep working for this guy for another week or month. Let’s say that he’ll stop cursing at you for now. Do you think that this will be the last time he curses at you? Do you think that he’ll change? He’ll become a different person?”
”No.”
”No, he will not.”
”I think you know what to do now.”
”I think I do.”
”Anything else?”
”No.”
”Call me in a couple of days and let me know what happens.”
”Thank you.”
”Hey, not a problem. I’ll talk to you later. Ok?”
”Ok.”
”Bye now.”
”Bye.”
She put down the phone; she actually did not know much about Lima. She met him a couple of times when she was in California. She also met him right before she left California for New York, but he was more like an acquaintance, not exactly a friend. But today, she could not agree with him more; he was absolutely right. She hated thinking about what she needed to do next because she just didn’t want to lose what she had now. Just several weeks ago, shortly after her birthday party, she felt that she was on top of her game; she felt that she had all she could have at this point of her life. But she was about to lose most of those things; she felt dreadful. She suddenly felt tired and went to sleep.
Her alarm clock went off at 7:00 am as usual. She could not sleep well last night, so she just wanted to stay in bed for a while, but she kept telling her to get up. She got up ten minutes later and jumped right into shower. She spent twenty minutes in shower, took a towel and dried her body. She wrapped around her body with the towel, went to the kitchen, opened fridge, took out a bottle of orange juice, poured it full in a large glass and drank it. She sighed once, went back to her bedroom, sat for about ten minutes. She spent the next ten minutes to get dressed and do makeup. She then walked out of her apartment and took 7 Train. Her routine was no different from any other day for the most part; she just felt tired today. Also she felt that she was moving slowly.
She got off at her train station and walked toward her office; she stopped at a coffee shop on her way and got Latte and one big plain muffin, her breakfast. She reached her office building, took the elevator and went up to the 5th floor. She entered the office, walked to her desk, put her backpack and sat. She was assigned to complete a few tasks; she tried to finish at least one of them, but she couldn’t. She kept thinking about what Lima and she talked about last night. When she realized, it was noon; she had lunch with coworkers as the company ordered delivery Chinese. She ate her lunch as if it were her last supper. She went back to her desk and kept going over the dreadful thought. She worked in SOHO; that itself was a dream job to many. She wasn’t a waiter or a janitor; she had a real job and a real career. Not many could get to where she got at the age of 25. But if she stayed true to her heart, all these would be gone in a couple of days. At around 3:00 pm, she decided to write an email to Brian; she wrote:
”Brian,
I feel tired. I know that it’s rather unprofessional to write to you like this, but I feel tired. I feel tired because you keep yelling, screaming and cursing at me. I also find that the way in which you treat me and all other employees is almost violent and uncivilized, though there hasn’t been any physical violence in this office. I feel that this is not exactly a very healthy work environment given that this is a computer software company. This is a workplace that workers should be treated with a certain level of formality and decency; there is no place for cursing or other uncivilized behaviors. I’d like to leave this job.
Diva”
Email was short and to the point; she felt rather helpless because she was 95% certain that he would not feel much about this email. She wrote it honestly and what she wrote made perfect sense. This would essentially become her letter of resignation or he would be touched by it and suddenly transform himself. When she thought about the latter possibility, she thought, “What am I kidding?” She reread it several times and sat there until 6:30 pm. When she saw 6:30 pm on her computer, she sent the email and left the office.
She wanted to get fresh air, so she just walked along Broadway toward north. She passed Houston and just kept walking. She reached Union Square and found a couple of bars. She looked at them from outside. One had bright glassy interior. Another had dim interior; it was a sports bar, but the bar decided to keep its interior dim. There were also quite a few fashionable looking bars. She decided to walk into the dim sports bar and ordered a beer; she forgot what she ordered seconds after she ordered it, but when she got what she ordered, the beer had golden color though it was a cloudy golden color. She paid for it on the spot, took time to finish it and then walked out of the bar. She started walking toward north again, reached 42nd Street, took 7 Train and headed home.
She wanted to spend a normal weekend like reading books, watching movies and hanging out with friends. She did that, but she did not feel any excitement. Weekend just came and passed, and before she realized, it was Monday morning.
As she reached her desk, she checked her emails; that was her routine. There was an email from Brian.
”Diva,
Please take time to review what you wrote to me. I do not get blamed for my actions.
Brian”
She felt devastated; he did not get it. He did not get that he was really hurting other people; he did not get that his behavior was totally uncivilized. She wrote back:
”Brain,
I feel unfortunate that you do not understand what I tried to convey. I feel unfortunate that you failed to understand that your behavior is uncivilized and causing unnecessary stress to me. I do not feel that I should keep working here any longer. I feel very unfortunate for saying this, but I am treated unfairly and you fail to recognize it. I feel tired. It’s time that I left here.
Diva”
She sent this email because she knew that he would just brush her off if she walked to his office and tried to interrupt his work and discuss this issue. Ten minutes later, he called her into his office.
”You’re quitting?”
”Yes.”
”You know, wherever you decide to work, you don’t get treated any differently. This is a part of any work, you know?” She kept quiet; she looked slightly disgusted. He recognized that.
”What you gonna do now?”
”I don’t know.”
”Are you going into business on your own? If so, I tell you that you’ll have much harder time than this.” She thought, “Please stop lecturing me. Why do you lecture me now? You’re making you look like an idiot.” She didn’t’ say any of these. He continued, “You know, I gave you raises, I gave you bonuses and I also paid for a bunch of other expenses, right?”
”Yes.” He sighed and said, “You know, I can go on and on, but you not gonna change your mind, are you?”
”No.”
”Ok, fine. You can just clean your desk and leave now. I’ll mail you this month’s paycheck.”
”Thank you.”
”Whatever,” whispered he. She got up and left his office.
She went back to her desk and took 10 minutes to clean her desk. Her desk was relatively clean and uncluttered, so it did not take long her to clean her desk. She took her backpack and walked toward the exit. Right before she walked out of the office, she exchanged looks with Galina, the receptionist. Galina was a middle aged woman from Russia and she apparently worked for him for many years. He cursed her more than anyone; in fact, using the ‘F’ word for about three dozen times and cursing her was his daily routine. She said, “Are you leaving?”
”Yes.”
”You’ve had enough.”
”Yes.”
”Bye, and good luck.” There was a faint smile on Galina’s face and she smiled back. And then she left the office. That was her last day.
She spent the next several hours walking around the city, and shortly before 5:00 pm, she headed toward ‘75th Street Brewery.’ When she got there, it was around 5:30 pm. The bar was pretty empty; most people were just getting off work and it would be a couple of hours before customers started coming in. Kristina was sitting on a chair right next to the bar and said,
”Hey, Diva, how’s it goin’?”
”I just quit my job.”
”Congratulations!”
”Thank you.” Diva sighed and said, “I got so tired working there. It was about time that I left.”
”Good. Let me buy you a drink.”
She had two drinks; she drank very slowly, and by the time she finished her drinks, the bar was half full. Kristina was busy serving drinks, so Diva looked at her briefly and left the bar.
Short Stories (Fiction) | 3.05.2007 6:54 | No Comments
Chapter 9: 9/11
She was not quite sure what to do next after she quit her job, but she started looking for a new job; it seemed to make sense. She wanted to stay in New York and she was still interested in advancing her career; she simply didn’t like her last job. She took about a week to update her resume and started looking for a job.
When she looked for her first full time job, luck was on her side; however, luck wasn’t on her side at all this time around. This was shortly after 9/11, and US economy was in the worst recession in years. After a month of job search, she had not received any job offer; not many companies responded to her inquiries about job openings, either.
She didn’t know what to do exactly, so she decided to go take a walk in the city to refresh her mind. She took 7 Train as usual, got off at 42nd Street and walked north; after another long walk, she reached Upper West Side. She felt a little tired, so she walked into a coffee house to take a little break. As she sat on a chair, she saw a magazine in the magazine rack next to the chair; it had a photo of World Trade Center Twin Towers on its front cover; they were gone now. She recalled that day.
—– —– —– —– —–
She got off at Prince Station in SOHO at around 8:45 pm. She walked up stairs from the platform and reached the ground level; she suddenly saw a bunch of people standing and looking up; no one bothered to move. It made no sense, but she just walked toward her office. More people were just standing and looking up toward the direction of Wall Street. She paused and wondered what was going on. Then, she looked up and saw one of World Trade Center Twin Towers on fire. She didn’t understand what was happening. It looked like fire, but it was so bizarre to see one of towers on fire; it was surreal. She wondered, “How did it start? Why do I see holes in the building?” She then went to her office and looked at towers from her closest window. She checked live news on her computer and tried to find out what was going on. Shortly afterwards, she heard people screaming; she moved to the window and saw an airplane falling apart in the sky. The other tower was on fire now; it took a short while to figure out what was going on, but she understood now. Two airplanes hit twin towers. The rest of the day was chaotic. No one worked and Brian told her and other employees to go home shortly after 5:00 am when things were settled down a bit in and around the office.
She met with her friends including Rene and talked about 9/11 the same week; Rene talked about attacking the enemy with full force, and that irritated her profoundly. Many of other Americans who were born and grew up in US shared the same opinion; they said that they’d need to strike back. They also talked about how they could not stop crying.
—– —– —– —– —–
That was the week of 9/11. She sipped a cup of coffee and thought about what happened then. How Americans responded to 9/11 did not make any sense to her; it was not that she supported hijackers or terrorism. She did not observe any objective analysis of the event; she found that so many Americans were responding to it emotionally. Also she found that they just didn’t have the right perspective. She was obviously saddened by the event, but she was no stranger to terrorism as she grew up in India; it was not a regular event, but it was not exactly out of ordinary. Immediate family members of victims obviously responded emotionally, but the rest of people in India did not respond so emotionally, which was the right response; no one should respond so emotionally. Objective analysis was critical; also it needed to be understood that the use of military force had to be the very last resort even in that instance, never mind attacking a country half way around the world. Another thing was that over 30,000 people got killed in this country each year because of gun violence; the number was alarming high. Yet, Americans did not respond to this so emotionally. When she thought about all these, she realized that she was not American; there was a profound difference between the way she thought about things and the way American thought about things. She then asked, “What now?” She loved New York and she wanted to be there, but she did not exactly think or act like the vast majority of New Yorkers, Americans. She felt slightly confused. She did not have to think or act like Americans to be in New York, but she wondered if she truly belonged to US or New York.
Then, she wondered why she was thinking about 9/11 all of a sudden. She should be thinking about finding a new job; that should be a more pressing matter.
Short Stories (Fiction) | 3.05.2007 6:51 | No Comments
Chapter 10: Thinking, Thinking and Writing
Many of her friends often teased that she thought too much. The fact of the matter was that she thought more about everything since she quit her job. One day, she decided to do something on her computer other than sending out copies of her resume; she started writing. From then on, whenever she went out, she carried her backpack with pens and papers. She kept writing. She asked herself, “Why am I doing this? I have bills to pay. I need to make money, and I need to find a job. I really shouldn’t be doing this. Write and then what? What do I do about my visa? I need it to stay in this country. What do I tell my parents about this? I’m sure that they won’t be happy to hear what I’ve been up to. What’ll happen to my career? What’ll happen to my life?” She asked millions of questions and then sighed, but she kept writing.
Short Stories (Fiction) | 3.05.2007 6:49 | No Comments
Chapter 11: An Author
”Congratulations,” said a clean shaved middle-aged man with a long wool coat. “Thank you, Dr. Bernarsky, ” answered Diva to the man.
”Is this your first book?”
”Yes.”
“I haven’t had a chance to read the book unfortunately.”
“It’s ok. You’re a busy man.”
“Would you mind telling me what the book is about?”
”Sure.” Diva looked down, put her left her hand on one of books piled up and started explaining what the book was about.
”Have you read ‘The Fountainhead’ by Ayn Rand?”
”Not yet.”
“Ok, but you have some idea of what the book is about?”
”I do have some idea, but I’ve never studied Ayn Rand.”
“Ok. In that case, I’ll try to explain as if I were to explain to a regular person.”
“I’m a pretty regular guy.”
“You’re a doctor.”
“I have a PhD, but that doesn’t make me a special person.”
“Well, I’ll explain.” She paused for a moment and started explaining about the book.
”I actually read ‘The Fountainhead’ relatively recently. I was curious to read, but it was only last year that I read the book. I really liked it. I don’t necessarily agree with Ayn Rand’s philosophy or her commentary on the modern society, but I found that the novel was great.”
“Ok.”
“I think that we can all learn from the main character Howard Roark. From what I read, academia doesn’t take Ayn Rand’s philosophy very seriously, and I think that there are a number of good reasons why. Not everyone can be Howard Roark, and it’s a little absurd to think that everyone in this world can become Howard Roark. Does it make sense?”
“Would you tell me what you think about Howard Roark? Also would you tell me how he, ‘The Fountainhead’ or Ayn Rand relates to your novel?”
”Sure. Howard Roark’s objective does not depend on what the rest of the society thinks or responds. It’s not that he’s totally blind to what’s happening in today’s world, but his premise is that most people just comply with the rest; they get jobs to comply with the rest. They get married to comply with the rest not because they love their fiancés or fiancées. They choose who to marry because they want to comply with the rest. They eat, dress, speak and do everything else to comply. There is no human dynamics or creativity. That’s Roark’s premise, and he doesn’t live like the rest. He is constructive, but he is the antithesis of the society of compliance. Does it make sense?”
”I think so.”
”Ok, good. The main character in my novel is like him. She’s like Roark.”
“Ok.”
“But there is a clear difference of opinion between Ayn Rand and I. She apparently believes that everyone needs to become Roark or perish otherwise.”
“Perish?”
”Rand doesn’t seem to believe that everyone deserves to live.”
”That sounds like a radical idea.”
“It is, and I don’t agree with that. I personally believe in social programs. Tax-funded education, public healthcare system, public transportation system and what not.”
“Ok.”
”My character is a hybrid of Roark and the person who believes in and values social programs. Does it make sense?”
”I’ll have to read your novel, but I have some idea of what kind of idea you want to present in this novel.”
“Can I tell you about the ending?”
Bernarsky paused for a second and said, “Why not? If you want to tell me about it, then tell me about it.”
”She decides to become a writer at the end of the story.”
“Like yourself?”
”Yes, like myself.” She paused for a second and continued.
”It’s not that this is the only thing that I want to do in my life. I’m involved in a couple of other things, but I want this ‘being a writer’ to be a part of my life.”
”Sounds like you figured out one thing in life.”
”Yes.”
Bernarsky smiled, picked up a book and flipped a couple of pages slowly, and then said, “I’ll get this. I have an appointment later tonight, so I should get going now.”
”Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for the invitation.”
”You know, I owe you a counseling fee. I still haven’t paid for three or four last counseling sessions.”
“Maybe, but that was 4 years ago?”
”5 years ago.”
”You can just forget about that. I’m just happy that you are happy and doing something in life.”
”I insist.”
”In that case, why don’t you stop at my office sometime? We set up time to meet and you can pay me whatever you think you owe me?”
”That sounds great.”
”Congratulations again, and I’ll see you sometime.”
”Bye.”
”Bye now.”
He walked to the escalator and stepped forward; as his body started moving downward slowly, he looked up and made eye contact with Diva. He smiled and then looked ahead. Diva’s eyes followed him until he disappeared from her sight.
”Who was that?” A man approached Diva and asked; he looked like an East Asian around 30 years old. He was lean and dressed well; he had a slight accent and it indicated that he was not originally from US. “Dr. Bernarsky”, answered Diva.
”Who is he?”
”I had a career counseling several years ago and I paid for several sessions; he gave private counseling sessions.”
”How much did you pay for?”
”$150 per session.”
”That’s pricey.”
”Yeah, but I didn’t pay for the last three sessions.”
”Why?”
”Ah, you know, money was tight, and I was going to stop the counseling in the middle of it. After I told him about my financial situation, he insisted that I continue the counseling while I would not have to pay any more fee for the time being.”
”I’m not so sure if he was generous.”
”Why not?”
”Well, he charges $150 per hour, right? So, I’m not so sure if he’s providing a financially generous service.”
”That’s a good point. Well, …”
”Anyway, I’m guessing that you invited him today?”
”Yes. I emailed him about a week ago and told him about this book release ceremony.”
”Right”, spoke the man calmly. He then asked, “What are we having today for dinner?”
”Why do you think we’re having dinner together tonight?”
”To celebrate your first published book?”
”Sure. What are we having?”
”Something simple yet tasty.”
”Some specific idea?”
”Boiled sausage with black pepper, freshly grinded, of course. Big sourdough. Splash water on it and put it in the oven for five minutes. Warm and soft inside and crisp outside. Danish blue cheese. And finally good red wine!”
“Which red wine are we going to get?”
”Do you know a lot about red wine?”
”I don’t know names of labels, but I think which ones are good and which ones are mediocre.”
”Ok, how about the one that we bought at the farmer’s market at Union Squire last weekend? The one from Upstate New York?”
”I like that one.”
”Me, too.”
”But …”
”But …?”
”How about beer?”
”Beer?”
”Yeah, beer. Why not?”
”Ok, any suggestion?”
”St. Augustine.”
”That’s, uh, …”
”German or Belgium beer.”
”You don’t like any of American beers?”
”Generally speaking, no. I like Anchor Steam though.”
”That’s made in San Francisco, right?”
”Right.”
”But you want St. Augustine?”
”If we can find it.”
”Ok. What if we can’t find it?”
”We’ll get good robust German or Belgium beer. Maybe we’ll get a couple of them.”
”Sounds good.”
”It’ll be a nice dinner. It’ll be fun, though it’ll be just a quiet dinner, just you and me.”
”I don’t have any problems.”
”Moments of happiness.”
”Moments of happiness?”
”You know, I wrote this novel partly because I wanted to define who I want to become. I think I did that. But assuming that I have become that person, I feel that life comes down to a selected number moments of happiness in the end. I’m not saying that people experience a selected number of moments of happiness and the rest of their lives are so unhappy, grim and agonizing, but I feel that they don’t experience happy moments everyday.”
“Ok.”
”I think that … we live for those moments. Tonight’s small celebration will be one of them …”
Short Stories (Fiction) | 3.05.2007 6:48 | 3 Comments
Chennai: It’s a film that is bound to be noticed, if not for anything else, at least its title which is Kelvikkuri or the question mark. A movie on custodial deaths, Kelvikkuri has managed to get on the wrong side of the Censor Board, which has questioned the very premise of the film.
The Board has refused to certify the film claiming that it portrays the police in a bad light. But the film’s director Jailani feels otherwise about it.
“They are banning it for a reason that I think is unreasonable and that hurts all the more,” Jailani says.
Read the rest of the article here
This is about censorship, but stuff that the censor board is trying to censor is nothing really. How can something like this be censored? Is this North Korea or some place?
India, Culture (India), Politics (India) | 2.05.2007 13:39 | No Comments