So, there is this lovely lady called Bidisha Rudra. In 2007, when we moved from Dallas to Atlanta, we found out thru a common friend that she was looking for a nanny for her very young twins. Nikita’s nanny was out of a job (since we moved) and we made the connection. I think the nanny worked with Bidisha’s kids. After moving to Atlanta, one of the very few people I became reasonably close with – Amitesh – turned out to have known Bidisha and her family very well. Apparently, they lived in Atlanta before they moved to Dallas!!

After that, all I know is Bidisha and her family moved to Asia (multiple times?) for work. I never got to meet them but Sharmila and the kids have met them in their visits to Dallas later. I knew enough about her and her family that by this time we were Facebook friends too.

Now cut to many years later to this evening. As you see in the picture, the in-laws, Sharmila and myself were relaxing by the poolside late in the evening. One thing led to the other and finally, at the end of a really excited set of questions and answers, I was able to put the following together:

My wife’s dad’s sister’s husband’s brother’s son’s daughter is the same lovely lady Bidisha!!

Don’t ask me why I get so excited about these really long connections (remember my bench mate from fourth grade Subir Hore who I found out was a relative many times removed many years later? ). Probably the odds against a total population of 1.2 billion. As Bidisha herself put it “cosmic connection” 🙂

Sometimes, I have to work hard to create intersection points and sometimes they just happen. This one just happened.

I had last met Mousumi Kar in 1988 sometime. We had common friends – my school friends Baisakhi, Debotosh et al were her college mates and that is how I got to know her. The two other memories I had of her was that once my mom had cooked dinner for her and her two room mates during a summer project and once I had visited her and her parents in Kolkata together with my college friend Ranga.

And that was it.

Till yesterday! Thanks to FB, I was aware that she and her husband Bratin were visiting USA from Germany (which is where they live) for a month with her younger son to tour the colleges. However, none of my work or personal visits were taking me anywhere near them.

And then finally got a break yesterday!

I was in Providence to pick up my daughter from Brown. Turns out they were visiting Harvard and MIT. One hour drive was all that I needed. Finally met her after 26 years. Had a great time with her, Bratin and her son Pramit at a Chipotle near Harvard. She has not changed a bit in those 26 years.

The funny part is Bratin and I have had many many common friends as we found out yesterday. And for the life of us, we could not figure out how our paths never crossed even once before yesterday.

Natasha and I were walking down a street of Providence after she said good byes to her new dorm friends. As we crossed a street intersection, while I kept listening to her continuous stories of exciting experiences of the last two weeks, I noticed that we went past a street vendor who was sitting all by himself with quite some kinick-knacks spread around him to sell. After a few seconds, I stopped Tasha and said – “Let’s give that guys some business. It is starting to rain. You never know how business has been for him. Seems to be wanting to make money the honest way.” I was fully expecting Tasha to brush me away. Luckily, she said “I needed to buy something for grandma – let’s see what he has”.

We took a few steps back and as Tasha spent over ten minutes deciding what to buy for her grand mom, I started making my moves to become friends with this stranger. It always starts with “Where are you from?”. He said ” Rhode Island”. Then looked at me, sized me up and added “But I am originally from Senegal”. And that is all the opening I was looking for. I asked him a lot of questions about Senegal, his family there, how good business has been and all I could to get to know another human being without being too much of an weirdo.

Once in a while a customer would come by and I would step aside to give him a chance to push his wares. Add then Tasha was done. But I was not. So, I told her that she should get one for herself. From me. That trick always works. And Silla – that is what I found his name was – and I started chatting again. From his French (Senegal was ruled by the French), to World Cup soccer to his ailing parents back at home, our topics could not have been more varied. I learnt that the name of the capital is Dakar and surprisingly, found out that Senegal is the westernmost country of the “Old World” (Europe, Africa, Asia). It is further west than all European countries!

It did make me reflect on a few things – the similarities of himself and myself – both first generation immigrants – with ailing parents to deal with many many miles away. And how, in spite of all those extremist thoughts that get news time (“playing soccer makes you unAmerican” is my favorite recent example) that make us wonder where this country is going, the inescapable fact is, this is still where people come to simply get a chance to work hard and make a living. Compared to many other countries, it is still a place that offers you a level playing ground to give you a shot at being happy. Sure, you have to work hard for that. But that beats entitlements and discrimination any day.

Tasha was done. She had two trinkets she had chosen. The total was $22. I immediately started haggling. Not sure why I did it. Perhaps it is the Indian in me. Perhaps I don’t want to let myself ever believe that money is an easy thing. I settled for $20. Still not sure why that $2 was important to me when I had the whole chance to not spend money at all.

Finally, I asked Silla if he would mind me taking a picture with him. He stood up to oblige me and that is when I realized how tall he was. “Ever played basketball?”, I asked. “No. But, I sure loved soccer”. And that was one more common thread between him and me and most first generation immigrants I know in this country.

I sure hope to come see him if my daughter ever chooses to go to Brown. Or If I simply happen to pass by Providence.

Last saw Ravi Ballamudi in Mar 1989. When I took up this new job, I found out that he lived couple of hours away from the airport I was going to visit often. This Tuesday evening, therefore, I headed straight towards his direction after landing instead of going to the hotel.

Ravi was kind enough to drive half way through and we met at this diner in the middle of nowhere right next to the highway by the side of a big truck stop and an outlet mall. Turned out to be a great place though.

We picked up from exactly where we had left over twenty five years back. It was like we never left the hostel to begin with!! As you can see from the pictures, we kicked our shoes, put up our feet and talked for hours. We almost went room by room in our hostel to see if we knew where all our old friends landed up! All that was missing was some Tarams tea. Fortunately, there was a bar nearby!!

Again, from the pics you can see how much fun we were having! It was great to see good old Ravi!!