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.
Ah! And a doubt raised earlier was also clarified.
I did learn to cook and at times when the tongue wanted the financially unviable,
I resorted to self-satiation. My age old resentment of ‘homemade/restaurant-shahi-paneer-non-equivalency’ had been
put to an end. The coffee, with all its roast-gradations, room for cream and
variants like lattes, mochas and au-laits,
took some getting used to. The initial few ‘tall’ glasses that I bought could
have been used to exterminate rodents, but I eventually did manage to find my
formula. A daily dose did come at a cost and a rather steep one. In fact it took
a while to get accustomed to the dollar values and not convert into our much
loved and thrifty currency.
This phase was like a child in a
toy store. Every aspect seemed attractive. Things were going good too. I was
hitting the jackpot in stuff I had never had luck with in the past. I won
posters and T-shirts in raffles and was also selected for a much desired
internship at P&G. And as if I wasn't excited enough by the ultramodern amenities and food, the pleasant
weather added to the thrill. The oblique and bright sunshine which lasted till
a baby’s bedtime, augmented by certain “sights” caused by that climate, was
certainly a mood enhancer. But as pleasing as the sun was, the lack of it was
highly depressing. And the American climate had no shortage in supply of gloomy
days. I was about to learn about this in detail in the forthcoming winter. With
its onset, began my transition into the next phase of the year.
***
Phase Two
Posing in front of the pretty
fall colored leaves was customary for newbies like me, without realizing that nature’s
interpretation was pretty different. Beauty for some was death for the subject.
Most of the leaves perished within days leaving behind barren branches which
resembled fractals during the day and felt ghastly against the moon in the
backdrop. The birds promptly followed their flight itinerary leaving us behind
to face the hardship. Not that I am a big fan of birds, but it’s not bad to
have company. With blustering winds and only sparse spells of sunshine, the
mercury had dropped drastically. The wrath was exacerbated by interspersed
rainy days when the already reduced daylight was plagued by a greyish-blue
tint. Like most civilians in this nation and globally, I also failed to
understand the daylight saving to standard time switch; as though the
winter-summer contrast wasn’t big enough. 
The streets already had far lesser people than
I was accustomed to and the effect of the weather forced most to vacate, leaving
the streets marooned. The few that came out would invariably be clad in black
winter apparels and be yards apart on the sidewalk. They were probably
unemployed and poor or grad students, not being able to take advantage of
Detroit’s gift to the nation. So many cars plied the roads that the only noise heard
while walking would be their whooshes, sans the honking mind you! Being on the
sidewalk itself isn’t a walk on the beach.
The icy winds lick their mouths at the sight of inclined straight roads and
charge in at full tempo, teaching the literal meaning of bone-chilling.
Cartilaginous parts turn stiff and red. The eyes get teary and nose runny; even
if you’re as nonchalant as Dhoni. In
case you forget your gloves back home, you sir can bid your fingers a farewell.
For instance, a usually tempting and fulfilling round of shopping is followed
by the task of getting those bags to the bus stop. In between lay a colossal
challenge in the form of an expansive and deserted parking lot, a common
feature in the U.S. Now, heavy loads like Idaho
potatoes have this uncanny knack of reducing the bag’s handle to
one-dimension, thereby increasing the pressure. Add to it the wind-chill and
distance factors and you can actually change your destiny, with new palm lines.
The bus ride is an eye-opener too. It dispels the myth about the absence of
economic disparity in this nation.
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
I managed to get a much needed break
before the big internship, with a visit to my uncle in Detroit, from where we also
squeezed in a trip to the Canadian side of the Niagara Falls. Although Canada
matched most of its description in the sitcom ‘How I met your mother’, I found some nice Indian style coffee
courtesy Tim Horton’s. After that
outing, it was time to earn a new designation, after a long time. The night prior
to the big day was a sleepless one. This was something I had been waiting for
seven odd months. I had learnt through emails that my boss, coincidentally, had
the same name as Mohan Bhargav’s (SRK)
boss in the movie Swades. It was turmoil
inside my mind with anxieties about my task, the people at P&G, my fit in
the new environment and outside work, my lack of a regular ride to the office. Nonetheless,
I was there the next morning and called up my boss. A stern and grumpy looking
man came down the stairs and walked past me, he wasn’t my boss. Just behind him
was an elderly and distinguished gentleman, who walked straight towards me and
said- “Pphra-ddheep-ttha? Welcome to
P&G! I am your manager.”
I was told about my tasks over the next three months. It seemed
herculean, but manageable. The company jargon went right over my head though. I
was swarmed by acronyms and terms like ergonomics
and leverage. Having my cubicle right
next to senior managers and vice-presidents was humbling and almost everyone
was really helpful. Considering all the evils I had heard about the corporate
world that was something unexpected. But maybe I was like a new born baby in
the family at that point. Yes, it did take them some time to digest the fact
that I was the only employee who did not have a car and used a ride from a
helpful colleague.
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.
The food also saw a rise in level, with the
introduction of some classy cuisine encountered during posh intern events,
spread across the hotspots of Cincinnati. Blending into those business class
round-table dinner parties was a novel challenge. Forgetting to place that
‘oversized handkerchief/miniature bed-sheet’ on my lap was embarrassing, but I
don’t blame myself for drinking my beverage right out of the can instead of
pouring it into a wine-glass with exactly three ice-cubes. Besides the class
upgrade the vocational upgrade was special too. I got an opportunity to visit
their plant and the only time I had seen something this amazing was in the
famous NatGeo Coke factory
documentary.
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…
