Author’s Note
I apologize for the
date- conflicts in this story.
That’s an indicator of the degree of writer’s block I encountered and the
mental load of grad-studies. I did start penning this down on the 8th
of September 2012, but resumed only recently to continue what was almost
discarded material. It could be considered as a sort-of sequel to my previous
piece- Cincinnati Masters, with
slight chronological (& hence content) redundancies in the first phase of
this story.
Prologue
“So, Pphra-ddheep-ttha!
Well done. It was a pleasure working with you and best of luck for the year
ahead! Hope you had a great time at P&G.” My manager’s congratulatory words
were followed by many more handshakes, compliments and wishes for my future. I
personally had another reason to celebrate on (delete this?) that day, 7th
of September 2012- a complete year at Cincinnati & if I may add, a crazy
one.
A year ago to the date, I
landed in Cincinnati amidst dense clouds, heavy rain and a pounding
nervousness. Little did I know, what lay in store for me in the year ahead. I
certainly wasn't expecting to come across such varied facets of the same
country- a country known for its uniformity, as opposed to the country where I
hail from. Ironically though, this statement gets rendered controversial
because my documented passport and genetic passport contradict each other. So
my emotional adieu became a technical homecoming, at least according to the
officials. Nevertheless, this transition might have been one small step for
mankind, but it was one giant leap for me and one lengthy flight for the
airline.
‘Cincinnati Bublaboo’ was
the only TV reference to Cincinnati I had ever come across and indeed the
experience in was that one year was rather ‘bubbly’, assorted with some ‘hullabaloo’.
***
Phase One
The first few months was a time when I was generously helped by the
Indian seniors, a time when the professionalism of property managers and
admission authorities seemed amazing and a time when I accepted the challenge
of lifting with both my arms, shopping bags
equivalent to the load capacity of four pairs of arms. Automatic slide-down
projection screens impressed and stooping buses, charmed. Professors with good
human skills topped with good communication and the audacity to show YouTube videos in a classroom were
captivating. I call it audacity because the only voice I had ever heard in a
classroom before was that of the teacher, a unit pulse signal with no
frequencies- colloquially referred to by today’s urban youth as monotonous. I
quote Sheldon Cooper; I also strove
towards his academic regimen. Although I managed only a fraction of his
prowess, this was the first time in years when I felt motivated to study, maybe
to match up to all the grandeur. Either that or there was no choice, with
assignments flooding my inbox- Yes that’s correct, assignments were emailed and
had to be, A) done, B) individually and C)within a time frame. In any case, the
results were there to show, eventually.
If the intellectual faculty was
prospering, another one was growing, literally. Mayo filled spicy Italian subs
were as tempting as mud to toddlers, free pizzas had the ability to draw grad
students from miles and bacon cheeseburgers would give me something I call
gustatory-orgasms. Add to that, a wide range of beverages hitherto only heard
of like Dr. Pepper and ginger ale; and confections like chunky chips ahoy cookies and lavish ice-cream
cakes. I cannot explain the amount of gastronomical satisfaction I have attained
in this nation.
***
Phase Two
The winter was long and bad enough;
it was worsened by a stressfully loaded quarter. Getting some time for myself
was near impossible with those tedious MATLAB programs beeping away
unfathomable error messages, in that horrifying red font. A walk outside for
some fresh air was out of contention. So the only choice was to sit tight in
the comfortably heated but suffocating indoors. And in pursuit of warmth, a
vital sacrifice made was that of Oxygen and hence entered the scene a new
player- Insomnia! It was a trap, a vicious circle and even Facebook had become boring
after being denied the opportunity to post our first snow photographs and earn
some Indian likes. The delight of Pringles
and MnM’s too, had reached saturation.
Although, there was no love lost for burgers, the flabs acquired on my belly
and cheeks mandated a separation.
The end of this tunnel was in
sight though. Tinges of green had started emerging on the tree tips, as an
assurance of returning to their heyday form. While they were proceeding towards
being covered again, the sun had also reappeared from the skirt of clouds; and the
attractive skins from the cover of winter wear. Spring was here and the spirits
were on the rise. The quarter was much lighter as well and included a dream
course for me- Computer Graphics, which gave me a chance to use one of my
hobbies (Google Sketchup) to score an
‘A’.The session passed in a jiffy, getting up late, watching IPL matches
during classes and playing real ones after them. That’s right! 8000 miles away
from its major hub, against all odds, I still had access to cricket.
***
Phase Three
The next three months of my life was something different altogether.
It was stressful no doubt, with presentations, poster sessions, early morning
wake-ups and probably my first real interaction with people outside the comfort
of the Indian-grads circle. However for the first time in my life I felt I was
working at a tangible application level. The amount of responsibility I was
entrusted with and the motivation provided by those above me was one hell of a
confidence-booster. Then of course, there was that factor which one could say
was the sole purpose – The big bucks! My first ever income and boy did I use
it. Funnily, as more checks paved their way in, the country felt more
attractive than ever before. The gates to Macy’s
and Cheesecake-factories had opened,
bringing a paradigm shift from Wal-Marts
and Burger Kings.
Three months went by in a flash. Amidst the meetings, simulations
and off-the-job cricket tournaments at neighboring states, my internship was
approaching its culmination. On the eve of my final presentation, I lacked the
time to even accommodate butterflies in my stomach. I was yet to complete my simulation,
or rather emulation; a terminology conflict springing from the need of
corporate correctness. While I can arguably point fingers at my Indian upbringing
for the procrastination, I can credit the same for my overnight haul and
eventual completion, bang on time. That wasn't the first Indian element I had
delivered to P&G. I was probably solely responsible for some American
senior managers learning about cricket.
I ended it on a high with a powerful final presentation and just
like that it was over. I remembered the admin lady telling me about how the
intern would end in no time and become a fragment of my memory, one of the best
ones.
***
Epilogue
After signing my final
documents, I walked down those stairs of the P&G office one last time and
stepped out of the revolving doors, back to the designation of a student. That was a wrap of a whole year in the new chapter
of my life. Yes, broadly divided into three phases, but probably swarmed with
numerous local minima and maxima. In cricketing terms (Sorry!), it could be
compared to a typical one-day match with a good start in the ‘powerplays’,
forgettable middle overs and a strong finish in the death. Have to rate it as a
match winning total!
The internship gave me a
glimpse of that aspect of the United States which was the major factor
responsible for the existing migrant settlement rate. I had already gotten a
teaser during my pre-interview classy dinner and this was the trailer; a good
one.
The movie is yet to begin. How gripping does it turns out to be? Only
time will tell…
4 comments:
Awesome work Prah-deeep-tha...
Nice choice of words...and u never forget your roots i.e. CRICKET...:D
Amazingly Written Apu .. :)
Loved it .. :)
By far, one of the best articles of yours Prady! Totally awesome! :D
I had the same kind of overwhelming experience when I entered the corporate world. And there's nothing more addictive than a monthly salary.. :P
PS: Some things never change. Cricket for instance. And the length of your articles. ^_^
Dude... Apu. Seriously, write a book or something :D
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