Things I Carried

Part -1

I was carrying my whole life with me, as I walked towards the aircraft. I was carrying two suitcases, filled mainly with clothes and books. I know they were less than 20 kilograms because that was the permissible weight. I could not feel their weight as they were on the trolley. I had a backpack on my shoulders. It contained some eatables, some clothes, a novel, some magazines, a portable CD player, some CDS, a deck of cards, and an inflatable pillow. I was well prepared for my long flight. In my hand I carried as brown leather case containing my passport, visa, and all other personal documents and papers. If I were to lose that case, technically I would cease to exist. Other than that, I had a tennis racket slung over my left shoulder. In short, I was carrying almost all my belongings with me. But that was not all I was taking with me. I was carrying with me memories of 18 years. Things and incidents, long forgotten, resurfaced in my mind, with incredible detail. Every face around me reminded me of uncountable incidents. I was carrying with me a sense of tremendous loss. But, at the same time, I was also carrying with me hope and excitement. A new world called me, and I was looking forward to go there. To protect me in this new place, I had a holy red thread tied on my wrist. That was the explanation my Mom had given me when she was tying it. Though I did not necessarily agree with her, looking at the thread did bring a warm feeling in my heart. It symbolized the love and blessings of my parents which I carried with me, wherever I went.

Part – 3

My story is basically consists of two parts. In first three-fourths of the story I have tried to word the whole experience of leaving my home and coming to a new country to study. I have tried to convey to the reader the thoughts and emotions I felt while I left. I did that because never ever in my life before or afterwards, have I felt such a strong sense of ambivalence, and I wanted to translate that to the audience. I have also given reasons for making the decision to study abroad. I included that because almost every one I meet asks me the reason for coming to the U.S, and hence I thought it was an aspect I needed to touch. . I go on and write about incidents in the process of adapting to a new place. I chose to write about this because the whole transition has been such a big thing in my life, and I decided it was important enough to be the one thing I wanted to give life to, by writing a story about it. I felt that if I was going to write a story about any part of my life, this was the thing I wanted to share with others.

Mostly all events described in the story in the first four pages or so are real-life events, with a slight twist here and there, to make the story more interesting. Even though I have devoted most of my story to the first part, the second part of the story is equally important. The second part of the story is the last couple of paragraphs where I say that I decided to settle down in India. I consider this portion as the second part of my story because there is a fundamental difference between this part and the rest of the story; unlike the preceding part, it is a product of my imagination. Hence, strictly speaking, only towards the end of the story that I have created the “magic of story-telling”.

Tim O’ Brien writes in the last chapter of his book that he is writing the story as Tim, trying to save Timmy’s life with a story. In my case I have tried to do something similar, but instead of foraying in the past, gone a few years ahead of time. I am writing this story to save a part of me which wants to return to India upon completion of studies in America. Obviously, the story I have written is not all true as I am still in college, where as in the story I have said I am done with college, and am living in India. I did this because I wanted to give life to my intense desire to return home.

Realistically speaking, I know that there is a slim chance of me returning home immediately after college. Having spent so much of my Dad’s money on a good education here, there is no way I am going to return without working for at least a few years in this country. Moreover, mostly every one who comes here to study, stays back. I am aware of the fact that even I may end up doing that, but I would be deeply disappointed in myself if I do. I have nothing against people who choose to stay back, or against America, but personally I’d feel that I was deserting my country, for personal pleasure and gain. I feel very sad when I realize very few people from my country share this view. I do not know if I am going to have enough courage to stick to my ideals, but through this story I have expressed that part of me. When O’ Brien says that he is trying to save Timmy’s life, I think he means to say he is trying to capture and relive his innocence as a child, which he has lost while growing up. I am trying to save a part of me which I really cherish, and which may change as I grow up, with this story. Hence there is some degree of similarity in the two stories.

In the end, I would like to point out a few shortcomings of the story, according to me. I feel I may have made the story a bit choppy or lop-sided, by moving gears too quickly towards the end. The only justification I have is that this was the best way in which I could address both the issues mentioned earlier. I cannot say I have been able to write a story exactly as I had intended to, and this only adds to the respect I have for writers like O’Brien , who practice the difficult art of story-telling with such incredible skill.

Part -2

Sitting in the stuffy cramped seats of the Boeing -747 jet, I could not stop myself from cursing the people who were traveling business class. I thought it was extremely insensitive of almost all airlines to have the people traveling by economy class walk through the business class cabin. I was almost convinced that they derived some sadistic pleasure from making sure we saw what we, the “under-privileged” were missing out on. Under normal circumstances I would not be this pissed off, but then they were not normal circumstances. I was going to be on that plane for a little over eighteen hours and hence I thought my misgivings were justified. Well, these were not the only things going on in my head but I was trying to avoid confronting the graver issues.

Continuing along those lines, I began to read my novel. It was a book depicting the life and thoughts of the Albert Einstein. Though I do not remember a lot about the book, I do remember that I was fascinated by a few things he said. “Time is relative. The distinction between the past, the present and the future is just an illusion.” I could not help but agree with him, as I felt strangely intrigued by the whole thing about “gaining time” as I was flying west wards. Even though I was not sure I completely understood what he was trying to say, I knew it was something very abstract and comparatively difficult to grasp for an average person. The fact that I could understand and appreciate his genius made me feel good about myself. I was lost in the euphoric world of self-adulation for a few precious moments, but then my head was flooded with other thoughts again.

Less than a couple of hours ago, I was with my family and friends as they bid farewell to me on the airport. It was the most confusing moment of my life. I was experiencing two opposite emotions with almost the same intensity, at the same time. On one hand I was heart-broken about the prospect of leaving all my loved ones, while on the other I was filled with hope and excitement about what lay ahead. The kind of excitement associated with the thrill of exploring an unknown place. It was the uncertainty about the future that made it exciting. I was going to The United States of America for my college education. The sad part was that I was leaving India, more specifically my home town, Baroda. In all my 18 years of existence I had never lived anywhere else. I was leaving behind friends, whom I had known for the past ten years or even more. As I hugged everyone for the last time I had this uncontrollable urge to cry. When I finally reached my best friend, I had to draw out every bit of self-control in me, to prevent myself from breaking down. I did not want my parents to see me crying as that would upset them great deal. Some how I controlled my urge and just a tear, betraying my inner turmoil, moistened my eyes. Thus, with a smile on my face and a tear in my eye I boarded my flight.

As soon as I took my seat, I burst out. The flood gates opened and the suppressed emotions engulfed me, and for the next few minutes I sobbed uncontrollably. I figured it was best to let everything out. I am sure I must have been a pretty amusing sight for the other passengers, but at that instant I couldn’t have cared less. Later, when I was more in control of myself, I felt awkward because every time I stood up to use the rest-room I could hear hushed whispers(or maybe I just imagined them). Once my outburst was over I felt much better. Still, with my eyes seemingly on the book, I could not stop myself from thinking about the people I was leaving. Their faces and their words kept coming back to me. I was not going to see them for a long, long time. That was the single most disturbing thought that kept haunting me. “When will I see them again?”

I began to reconsider the wisdom of the decision I had taken to attend college in America. I had made that decision about six months back. I was lucky to have parents who encouraged me, and moreover, were willing to pay for a very expensive education. There were two main reasons I made this decision. Firstly, I wanted to learn about relatively new technological fields and very few colleges in India had adequate infrastructure for that. The other thing was that I wanted to experience a new place, ,living away from home, and being on my own. I figured that this would give me good exposure and help me grow as a person. I always knew that it was going to be tough, especially at the beginning, and sitting in that plane I realized how true I was. But then I gathered myself and decided to be positive. After all, it was no use pondering about “what-if”. Rather, I decided to just hang in there and make the most out of the whole thing. On this relatively positive note, I set foot in America.

There I was, starting off a new chapter of my life in the land of opportunity, America. It was the first time I had been to this country, but it was like every thing had imagined it to be. I must admit, for the first weeks I was in complete awe of the place. But, I was out of that phase, pretty soon and began settling down in my new surroundings. Though I did not have any major problems in getting adjusted to the different environment and lifestyle, I did have my share of “learning experiences”.

By the end of the first week of classes, I made an important decision. I would make sure that all my children’s names were not longer than four alphabets and had at most one vowel. The reason for this was brutal decimation of my own name, at the hands of every American. Initially, I tried to correct people but then realized that it was no use. The accents were just too different, and I developed the habit of responding to all versions of “Chintan”. Well, my difficulties didn’t end there. Thanks to my strong Indian accent and a tendency to speak pretty fast, I did have a lot of trouble in getting my point across. But this was just some times, and after a few weeks, it was not a problem anymore (or just on rare occasions.) Besides these relatively minor hiccups, things went along pretty smoothly for me.

In college, time seems to fly. Juggling between homework submissions, midterm tests, and weekend parties, before I knew I was in my final semester. I had enjoyed every bit of college experience. It had been everything I wanted it to be, and more. I had adapted myself completely to the American lifestyle. All these years I always missed home, but I figure was too busy with my work to brood about it. I was on the threshold of leaving college and entering the “real” world. I had to decide regarding what I wanted to do from there on. It was then I made another big decision. I decided to go back to India and work there upon completion of college.

Most people I knew were surprised by this choice. Mostly, everyone who comes to study, stays back. I could not bring myself to stay back because I realized that I simply did not belong in America. As much as I had enjoyed staying there, I wanted to go back home, and there was only one place in the world I thought of as home; India.

It has been about a year since I left America. Upon graduation I got a lot of decent offers from American firms, but I stuck to my decision. I came home, and took up a job in my home town. I often wonder as to how different my life would have been had I stayed back in the U.S. I would probably be earning ten times more, driving a much better car on much better roads, living in a far more luxurious home. Sounds like I cut myself a bad deal? If you could see the smile on my face right now, you would know my answer.