26 December 2018

Guess who I ran into before even I could start my journey?

If morning shows the day, this trip should have some good intersection points. Ran into Sudeshna and her son Ishaan at the airport. Turns out they are headed to Kolkata too! They are going from New York to Dubai to Kolkata. And my route takes me to Doha to Bangalore to Kolkata.

It was great to catch up with Ishaan. The last time I saw him was exactly a year back – on Christmas Day again. He was playing on the keyboard while Sudeshna sang at Avijit and Bani’s house!

Off to India now!

25 December 2018

Refueling for the long haul

After about 7 years of seeing my parents and inlaws every three months, I had to go on a long hiatus. Unfortunately, we lost my father in law this year. So, Sharmila made the trek two times in the last two quarters. Now it is my turn again!

I have not seen my parents in 9 months. Like I said, the last time this happened, it was 2011. I am very excited. But I also am very confused. Let me explain…

Getting to see my old parents so often – one who got felled by a brain stroke and one who is a psychiatric patient – is one of the best memories I will ever have long after they are gone. I distinctly remember sitting at our Sunday evening bar in Milton, Sharmila had asked what was the big idea about earning money if we could not utilize it to see our own parents. Point made.

But the visits do not come without complications. The condition my mother suffers from, ironically, makes my trips somewhat of a curse. It shoots up her stress levels. Over the years, I have learnt the art of telling white lies. First, I just don’t tell them I am coming. Second, I always tell them that I have eaten outside or that I have some other engagements and cannot eat at home. The overwhelming desire for a Bengali mother to cook food for her son plays havoc with her obsessive compulsive disorder to a point that she just freezes up. But my brother and I have developed a routine around those white lies – that everyday culminates with “We need to order dinner in tonite”. I think my mom is still convinced that the local guy will not sell me wine for the evening if we do not buy dinner too!

That is the routine I look forward to. Last time I saw my dad in April, he was able to grip a ball with his right hand and throw it a few feet. He was walking few feet too with his walker (duly followed by my mom with a chair in hand in case he collapsed).

But here is the confusion. Experience has taught me that when it comes to visits from their son, frequency beats length. Four trips of two days each is exponentially more enjoyable to them than one trip of eight days.

This is one of my longest trip to India. Actually THE longest trip to India by myself. Instead of staying with my parents for eleven days, I intend to make it three tips of a day or two each. Which leaves me with some time to visit places, create intersection points etc.

Except that my ever reliable partner – my brother – is out of town for work and won’t be back till a a few days before I leave. That puts a big cringe on what I can do.

Outside of visiting my parents, I would like to meet old teachers, relatives, friends. old classmates, elderly people – like I always do to remind myself of my roots. And also see if I can dash to a quiet place for a day or two just to reflect on the year that was and how I can be a better person next year.

Do you folks have any ideas on what I can do while in India?

19 December 2018

Quo Vadis?

My Facebook feed is lighting up with my fellow road warriors’ posts of “Last business trip of the year” with a map that clearly shows the plane pointing to their home.

Not wishing to be left behind, I made one for myself too. Now I realize that I might have a problem – my plane is neither taking me to my office (Chicago) nor home (Atlanta). And I am clearly not on vacation.

It is 6 in the morning. Somebody needs to remind me where did I come from and where am I going.

23 November 2018

Intersections galore!!

“Kotha thekey beraatey esechhen?” I asked casually. (I enquired where they were visiting from).
“Philadelphia,” replied the gentleman, taken aback by somebody speaking Bengali in a free shuttle bus that carried us from the resort in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic to a nearby marketplace.

You see, Amitesh, Anusuya and I had run out of wine for the evening (I totally blame Anusuya for this 🙂 ) and needed to replenish the same. The daughters opted to stay by the pool and we three got on to the bus. As I got on, I heard the gentleman talking to his wife and two young sons in that unmistakable language that I grew up with in my early childhood.

Once the ice was broken, the seven of us chatted for quite some time. As you might have imagined by now, I was busy finding out intersection points. There were way too many. I think, it all started with me mentioning that both my daughters were born in the Dallas area. Quickly found out that Sumana (the wife of the aforementioned startled gentleman) was a relative of Debjani. To put this in perspective, Sharmila and I were very very close to Debjani and Subhasis (Subho) when we were in Dallas as our kids grew up together. In fact, we exchanged some great stories of Rishi (Gampu) – one of which involved his teacher asking Debjani if they had a pet duck! Story for another day!

Indrajit (by the method of elimination, you have no doubt figured out that he was the startled gentleman) and we were talking of Atlanta when he mentioned that they knew Rupa. That was too much of a coincidence.

“Do you also know them?”, he asked

“What do you mean know them? Of course, we know them. In fact they were the first Bengali family we were introduced to when we moved to Atlanta eleven years back. Rupa and I have another weird connection thru her husband Abhijeet and my wife Sharmila. Rupa’s father in law and my father in law grew up in the same small little village somewhere in Midnapore district in West Bengal. In fact, there was this time that both were visiting Atlanta and recognized each other !!!”.

Amitesh and Anusuya were also talking to them about Rupa when I got myself busy on my phone. Looked Rupa up quickly on my Facebook friend list and showed them the picture…

“You are talking about this lady, right?”
“Yes, she is wearing my saree,” Sumana responded.
“What? What do you mean she is wearing your spree??”, I asked, somewhat incredulous.

And that is when I learnt about Sumana’s booming saree business in all of US. An Indian saree merchant selling direct to Bengali women all over US? I knew I had hit the jackpot.

For the uninitiated, “Bengali woman” and “saree” are uttered like you utter “Marco” and “Polo” in that kids’ game. I was sure we were going to have a lot of intersection points and perhaps she might be the link that might get me to many of my unfinished searches!!

The conjecture was not false! In the next half an hour or so, we found out about a ton load of connections we had.

Bidisha in Dallas? Her customer!! Also, somehow I am related to her thru Sharmila. It is very convoluted but I think I am her grandfather or uncle or viceroy or something like that. Funny part – Bidisha and her husband Neil are excellent friends of Amitesh and Anusuya and that is how I got to know them to begin with!! To think, we were all standing in front of the same family that had been hosted at a party in Bidisha’s place just a few weeks back!

Sabori in Dallas? Same connection!

Satabdi from Maryland? Her customer!! Turns out Satabdi and I grew up together literally a few yards away from each other in the early 70s!

Indrani from New Jersey? Her customer again!! Funny part – I had to let her know that Satabdi and Indrani are actually sisters!!

“So, how do you know Shravani?”, I asked. By now, I was going thru Sumana’s Facebook friend list to see if there was any answer to many of my unfinished searches. “Don’t tell me – she is your customer!”

“Yes, how do you know her?”, she asked.

“Ummmm… let me reconstruct… yes… her husband Prasenjit was my wife’s classmate in Shibpur”.

I am fairly sure, she was thinking I waste too much time getting to know people with all sorts of weak connections.

Then there was the Narendrapur friend of mine…. and the list just kept growing!!

Finally, it was time for us to catch the return bus.

But not before I learnt an important lesson. My street Spanish has gone down considerably from those days of haggling with taxi drivers in the streets of Lima. You see, I had a simple request for the security guy outside the grocery store. Many Spanish words and wild gesticulations with my phone later, I made a breakthrough!

“Oh! You want me to take a photo”, the guy deadpanned in chaste English!

As we reached our destination, Indrajit and Sumana made me promise that they will get a chance to meet Sharmila some time.

“Only on one condition”, I insisted.

“And what could that be?”, they asked curiously.

“Just do not mention about your business to her,” I said looking squarely at Sumana!