I entered Professor X's office last friday afternoon with a beating heart and anxious face.

"I wanted to tell you something which I think I should have told you before but if I did you wouldn't have let me do it-"

His face became immediately stern as he took a half circle on his revolving chair to face me, leaving the important half written email mid way.

"What is it Tanja. Tell me straight and quick."

"I-I participated in this competition, and I got selected in the top finalists of the nation, and now they want me to participate in the final event in Texas next week. And I need your signature on this form so that I can go-"

"I will not sign it. This, this is wrong. Very wrong..And it's not the first time, you know it. When you did it in the first semester, without my permission went ahead to submit things, I tried hard to understand and forgave you because you were new...But now? Again? No, no, don't say it's a little thing. I don't care about that. I know it's a small thing for me to sign it and I don't care about it. It's about honesty. You're not honest with me. You want to hide things from me. On purpose. This is not good. Not good at all. You should have asked me in the first place. Yes, okay, maybe I would have said "no". But then an advisor must have a reason to say no, right? Then we could have argued. At least we wouldn't have to see this day. Now this is all so messed up. See Tanja, you made a mistake, you must pay for it. You must withdraw your entry from the competition. Your attitude is not right, Tanja. You push people, it makes them so uncomfortable. I can't review your thesis on your schedule. There's no time left, your defense is coming near, and you've nothing in hand. Look at XuXu, he has submitted his thesis to the committee already and his defense is later than yours. He started working on it in December and you began in March? This is not gonna work, Tanja. You've to change if you want to do well. Listen, I know you're gonna leave this university, no, no don't say anything, I can see that in your eyes. Your heart is not here anymore. That's fine, I've hired the Japanese girl anyway. But mark this, this is my personal advice to you. Wherever you go, you'll have a new advisor. He/She may not tolerate this attitude of yours. Ok? I'm telling you this because I've known you. You are bright, Tanja. And it seems you love this profession very much, you'll become a good professor one day. But only if you're honest and nice to people. Otherwise success in future will be hard. And you're my student, no matter where you go, my name will always be on your resume. I don't want to hear bad things happened to you later in your career. This is a small research community we're in. Everyone knows everyone. I want you to think and aim far, not waste your time in these petty competitions. Okay? Respect people. I hope you remember my advice."

And with that he turned his back to me to stare at the half-written email he had left behind to lecture me. Yesterday, I felt like things had come to an end. It was 3 PM when I came out of his office and I felt shattered, broken. For a few moments I realized perhaps he's right. Perhaps I won't be a great, successful  person in the classical sense of these terms.  And besides I didn't have a single PhD offer in my hand and I was about to be kicked out from the Jaali university within 2 months or so. Sometimes, you know, life is so dark around you, that it's not just blinding, it's suffocating.

But then, I reasoned myself. I said, "Well, it doesn't matter. Prof. X had already screwed my letter of recommendations. And if success means sucking feet of lame men by being a silent, laborious slave, then I don't want that kind of success. Nahi chahiye vaisi kamyaabi. I'll be better back in India, in my own room, alone, with a book in hand. A book like "Catcher in the Rye". And then I would write my own, and maybe publish it you know. But I can't do that diplomacy to win people. I'll never be a ruler of a reign. I was and always be a warrior. An amazon. Who fights by principles and dies in courage. I will not yield to incompetence. This life is just a story of this steep descent." But even then, the stark fact haunted me for two hours that life's gonna be harder if you're gonna continue making enemies and if you continuously refuse to respect people. But why should I respect them, these phonies?

Anyway, at 5pm, at the darkest hour of my life, I received a phone call. It was from the Awesome university I had visited a few weeks ago. And the professor that I was interested in working with was saying, "Tanja, congratulations. You've been awarded two fellowships for your PhD, which will cover your entire tuition fee and stipend. I would love if you could join my group, we would be able to do a lot of great things together. And, no, no, you don't have to tell me anything right now. Do not at all feel pressurized to decide, I'm sure that with credentials like yours, you must be having a couple of options and you might be waiting from other schools. So take your time, I would look forward to see you join us but feel free to let us know in two weeks, okay?"

"You just made my Friday night," I crackled on phone as a tear smeared down my cheek.

Following snippets are from the PhD campus visit I recently had in an awesome university:

# I reached the university 10 hours later than my scheduled time due to all kinds of snowstorms which cancelled/delayed possible flights and left me to rely on reluctant bus drivers who at one point actually controlled my fate single-handedly. Hungry, tired and with messed up hair, my series of interviews with various professors began 5 minutes shortly after I reached their campus. I was most interested in the following professor because he was not an engineer but a scientist:

"So Ms. Singhal, you're clearly at a disadvantage here. You missed all the morning sessions where the faculty gave their research overviews, so you've no clue what we do-"

I cut him and told what I knew. And I offered if he's interested in seeing some of my papers that I had brought along.

"Ah I see. So you've done your homework."


# Another professor that I liked went into more of a philosophical questioning.

"So Ms. Singhal your research is interesting. Do you think you can apply these concepts to the real world? How long do you think we may have before these technologies are available for the public welfare?"

I guessed 10 years and she laughed.

"Well, things change rather slowly in the US, Ms. Singhal. 10 years is too optimistic anyway. So, tell me, do you think you can change the world?"

"Yes."


# Once the interviews ended, I was quite happy and sort of imagined that I had bagged it and all. Little did I know then that the competition was incredibly fierce with candidates from Ivy leagues and such brand names that I didn't even feel like telling people that I was from Jaali University. We had a lot of free food and lot of socializing events, campus tours, lab tours etc which I enjoyed but hour by hour in those three days I kept on meeting stronger and stronger candidates. Prospective graduate students were from Georgia Tech, Berkeley, Texas Austin, Stanford, Penn State, MIT, etc and even Princeton for god's sake. And the only reason those guys were interested in this university was because they had lived 20 years in their hometown and now wanted a goddamn change. Secondly this university which we were visiting is supposedly ranked good in my tiny specialization but overall the university is not that much of a tagname as Caltech, Ann Arbor etc.

Once I saw the people, their profiles, and their high IF publications, I turned quite depressed and tried my best to passively convey that this university isn't really as good as the others they have applied to. I tried this hard on the Princeton elf, this smart, hunk of a dude with a royal breeding who was looking down upon everything anyway. I sometimes wonder how god can make people so intelligent and so hot at the same time. And why I ain't blessed with a single quality? I hope he goes to Harvard or something. But why would anyone leave Princeton anyway.

So well, near the final hours of my stay at the cursed campus I was quite upset and began to hate everything. I hated my own incapability, own lame existence. I just had or have no chance. Profs were being nice to everyone apparently and will let us know in 2-3 weeks. I know what they gonna let us know. . .

And then I felt like a lonely, weak hobbit stranded in the dark land of Mordor. And I felt, I felt, Elves may be strong and capable but they don't care about the battle. They are just too good to participate or fight. They have nothing to fight for, no desperation they have in their soul. And most of all, they and all the other creatures of this middle earth lack one thing, with which this poor hobbit is blessed in a surplus quantity. And it is due to that one thing, this hobbit was able to match her shoulders with tall elves for a couple of days on sacred grounds. That one thing which I cherish beyond all, my friends, is courage.

# We both sat staring at each other across Professor X's office table, waiting for the other to break the ice. My professor's huge square glasses hung low on his nose and through his unrestrained fiery eyes, he had begun to rupture my soul.

"So...umm...," I attempted to begin our weekly meeting, "did you get my email about the paper?"

"Of course, yes. Of course. I know." He sat still, ready to burst out any moment.

"Uhmm, it was my first paper...I hoped it to go through but...I feel bad."

"I told you. Didn't I? I told you but you never listened to me. You even argued with me, and that's your major problem. You have to do more tests if you want to publish papers in academia. You have to do more and read more."


"Umm, but the reviewers said that its rejected because its nothing new, we need to do something new to be accepted. Actually I don't feel bad now. It was just a bad paper with bad results. My next one would be better."

"No. You should feel bad. It's not about being new. Look at xuxuxu (insert random chinese graduate hero), look at his work and papers. Xuxuxu's project is very common but he still got good papers out of it. You just don't want to work hard. And your attitude is not good. You have to focus. Focus. Otherwise you won't be able to get things done. You're always running after scholarships and fellowships, but you're not so eager for research," Professor X's lower lip quivered intensely as he announced the climax just like pouring whipped cream on lemon cake, "You-you, you have the potential but you never seem to use it."


# So I went and sought some guidance from this old grumpy scientific guy, who's like the only person in the entire department who knows things, and that's what he said to me,

"I know professor X, been working with him since past two decades and I perfectly understand what you're saying. And lately, he's been having a lot of issues with students, I saw that, I saw that and I don't know why. But anyway, if you want to pursue some research that really matters, go and do your PhD under a real doctor. Someone who can teach you how to do things. Not these bunch of people who run this department and do stuff and publish stuff. You know what I mean by stuff?"

I entered my office this morning and found everyone working - glued to their computer screens - as usual. I am always curious to peek into the screens of my peers, I don't know why. I am always curious to know what they're upto.Are they surfing (youtube/facebook) or communicating (chat client/gmail) or reading a paper (research paper/journal article)?

I always want to know that and sometimes I would like to peek after every few hours. Evidently I am not working on these days and just idling on my PC and hence it helps me to know that the others too are just chilling out. So, I feel its OKAY to chill out. Its OKAY to stay distracted and read that trivial news section on msn once in a while. Its OKAY to go through all the fresh posts from the people on your blogroll.

However, an interesting thing that I have come to notice is the correlation between age and focus. For example my old professor, whenever I see her and have a peek at her computer, she's always communicating or reading a paper. I don't know how people spend the entire day without watching a single video :| And then this another mature guy in my office, like double phd guy, he's always so focused. Always reading papers or writing them. Never in the past whole year I have seen him surf.

Another visiting scholar, old married girl with a daughter, also keeps on reading papers all day. (Actually I have a really good position to peek into her screen so I can tell for sure). So I don't get what's the deal with reading papers all day. I mean, how the hell do you get so much focus? I just can't imagine.

If I think too much about it, the answer I get is - perhaps it's because they got family and all. So they finish work at 5 and runoff to their families for fun or whatever (you know right ;p) And for that they stay focused on work as long as they are in office in daytime.

But for people like me, single, young, and silly, I see it kind of impossible to stay focused. Perhaps I still haven't realized what I am meant to do. When I reach 40, maybe I'll know. And after all, that's the biggest question of life, isn't it? What do you really want to do in life? Answer it asap and you're good.

Ow that reminds me I have a paper to write.

"So bad scores. Why couldn't all of you even do simple trigonometric problems?" the teacher yelled at the students and then paused, as if waiting for an answer.

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Current Book: "The Grapes of Wrath" By John Steinback

Current Music: This

#Extra Credit

The semester break draws to an end and a set of new subjects and tasks loom before me. The break can't be discarded as entirely useless as some work was done in most aspects of this life. Most important thing was the creation of a schedule since the first week of this new year, which, if am able to follow from now on DAILY, I think I'll be good. Really good. But yeah, let's see if I really can or not. Because there will be a lot of things that aren't accounted or expected but then, that's life, isn't it?

In short, by the end of year 2011 there should be major changes in the About the author page of this blog and if not, I would have failed.

Hmmm, I really don't have pretty much to say on this weekendly-post so I will devote this post to my love for my lovely Chinese Undergrad Assistant.

Disclaimer: As I might have previously mentioned, the guy is really nice, adorable and definitely more intelligent/smarter than I am (all that GPA crap, you know) but has some funny habits which do crack me up once a while in all this dark and serious research that I have chosen to pursue. 

# One day, on a sunny morning, out of the blue or maybe tired of cleaning, our assistant asks us, "Is there any machine that can automatically clean cube moulds?" We answered, "If there was such a contraption, people would have really opted for civil engineering not computer engineering in these dark times. We, I mean you, got to get your hands dirty, bro."

# "Ah, my back hurts. Work is killing me," We said one day in a casual tone (its our pet dialogue in this youth phase). He says, "You should get some physical exercise perhaps." "O REALLY? WHY DINT ANY1 TELL ME THIS SECRET OF LIFE BEFORE?"

# We are looking around the lab one afternoon because we got to start mixing concrete and we can't find him anywhere. We check all closets, even under the experimentation tables but he's not there. He was supposed to be waiting there for us after preparing the raw materials. Suddenly, our phone breaks the silence of the lab and we flip it to read a SMS (Which BTW COSTS US A LOT EVERY MONTH) sent by our lovely assistant, "Material gets ready. I come to the bathrooms. Be right back soon."

# And some days he's too sweet because we have to lift and transfer 2 huge barrels each of 250 kg of cement to the lab and he kindly understands that we can't do it so he brings an army of Chinese undergrads who get the entire job done while I was away in a seminar. When I asked him why did he bring Xufushu in lab, he might get hurt and liability would come on us, to that he replied, "Xufushu is a very strong man," and we both looked in awe at Xufushu.

# Once he sends us a cute message reminding that our last bus is within 5 minutes from now due to the changed schedule of bus rides. We immediately thanked to God, prayed nice economy for China and ran for the bus.

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Current Book: "The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger
Current Music: They See (Desi) Revolution by DNOAX

Finals exams are holding me back for producing a long rant for this weekly post, so I present before the kind reader, by his/her permission, a silly project video that I made for a course.

I solemnly declare that I do not intend to trespass or trouble the serious nature of your life with the trivialities of mine.

Note: Do NOT make inferences about my research life on the basis of what you shall see here. Anyway, I know you will. But that's okay ;)

Hi!

I guess I have painted a too rosy picture before y'all in my previous posts (not that the picture is in fact rosy but there are some (some?) thorns TOO)

Bringing before you another post where I jot down points over a period of time and publish when I feel they are of considerable length.

-7th September, 11:16 PM. I just returned from taking out the huge trash. Yeah my roommates make me do all the labor work since I am not able to do the artistic work aka "cooking". So they cook and I clean.

Simple.

As I exited the warm atmosphere of my house and descended the wooden stairs, a chilly breeze struck my bare arm - bent down by the weight of the trash. I watched my slow steps as I moved towards the giant trash can at the end of the colony. Before I could reach the garbage tank, my eyes fell upon a feline creature that lingered around. Or rather, the feline creature's yellow crescent eyes fell upon ME. Mortified and frozen for a few seconds, I hurled the trash baggage into the air aiming towards the tank that lay 10 metres away. I am not sure where it landed but my feet did land on the stairs to my apartment, seconds later.

(Prolly it was just a stupid cat looking for potential dinner. Grad life gives you fantasy imagination.)

- 9th September, 3:14 PM. I just ate the MAGGI I brought for lunch today. I had cooked it last night and now microwaved before eating. It tasted like shit. Hard frozen from the inside kinda shit. Not that I have tasted real shit. But this thing would have been close.

- 9th September, 12:11 PM The pain in my neck and back is so much that I am unable to sleep. I have to wake at 6:30 AM tomorrow as well.

- 11th September 2:21 PM Sometimes (always?) you work on saturdays and sundays.

Life's been too busy around homeworks. Luckily got a little time to share some thoughts today.


In my entire life, I feel that I had this special connection with my teachers. There were some of them which I really didn't like but then there were a few which I really loved. And as for the teachers' side if anyone would go and ask them, their opinions too would be mostly at the extremities. For them either I had been the most careless and dumb student or I had been an exceptional student. Very few will rate me as a 'nice/normal/decent' student.

And in my bachelors degree, there was this thing that used to happen with me every semester. I used to get in the eyes of at least two teachers every semester. Of course one held love and the other held hate for me. And my record of living up to this phenomenon had been pretty consistent. When I came here in US and the semester began, I was again a bit worried and was wondering if this thing will continue.

Somehow, it did. And it didn't.

I "think" I came a quite close getting a bad reputation in front of a teacher but it seems like it never happened. It all just happened in my worried mind. Or it has but the teacher is not showing it. But yes, I "did" come close to another teacher that I think I really love and he in return appreciates my interests too.

He is a retired professor and quite old. He welcomed me in his office like perhaps no other teacher had ever done to me. And those precious minutes spent with him in the past few days strengthened my grip on my dreams. I know I am talking very vague here and not giving you people any specifics of "What, where and why?" But really, I can't. It's the nature of this blog to stay away from facts. Facts are too mundane and boring. I always try to stay away from names and facts and stuff.

It's all about fiction ;)

And yes, where was I? The meetings, the wise advice and some pivotal events in the past few days have really shaped my world the way I wanted it to. Talking with him, I felt overwhelmed at times on seeing his supportive and encouraging nature. I was "so" much reminded of the book "Tuesdays With Morrie" which I finished a week ago. The way I look at teaching, I sometimes feel that it is one of the most noble professions existing out there. But of course it doesn't suit everyone. You need to know a lot and then you need the right method of telling to novices whatever you know. I don't know about the present but yes maybe after 10 or 20 years, when I feel that I *know* enough stuff, I would love to be a teacher.

I would love to inspire, ignite and most importantly *help* students who would be nothing but my own younger selfs seeking direction.

A great teacher, someone to talk to, someone-someone who could understand everything that I have always meant to say, is what I was primary looking for after coming to US. And I guess I have found someone. It's really important to find that teacher in your life. It's not that I have a "guru" of my lifetime. But yes, for this current phase of my life, I have one. Yes, in past I had a series of teachers who played their roles in perfection. But there had been times when I had no one to guide me. Times of darkness, they were.

I see light now. Pure, infinite, illuminating, White Light.

For every Frodo needs a Gandalf
For every Harry needs a Dumbledore

And so, SOMEHOW I have reached US of A. As I type this, I am well settled in my nice apartment at my overly nice city(perhaps next blog post on this topic). Overall the trip was quite fruitless. I mean it had nothing I had expected from it. Nothing at all when compared to my expectations. Of course it had some weird events on the way but no big fruit in the end. Because I was expecting quite paranormal stuff to happen while I was in mid-air. But naah, no aliens came to hijack the plane. The fairies did not appear out of nowhere. The demons and witches did not stop by. And on the top of it all, our plan didn't hit turbulence and we did NOT crash in some unknown island. We did not get lost.

Duh, pretty fruitless.

The boring life continued and nothing extraordinary happened. Nothing much exciting (except at Chicago where my ticket was declared fraud->see below). I have finally reached a new place and have to do studies etc.

But anyway, I do have a few memories to share with you people. I wish I could write down my entire trip here but I can't because I have slightly forgotten it and also you will get bored. So let me just give you a few snippets of the things I observed.

1. The Random Terrorist Check Interview.
   
2. The Germans
   
3. The Chinki Brothers
   
4. Chicago from Above.
   
5. "Your travel agency is fraud sir, your name is not on the flight."
   

 The Random Terrorist Check Interview.
I reached the sleek new terminal T3 at New Delhi in time and my parents made sure that I was loaded with clothes and accessories to the maximum so that the bags in my hand won't exceed the baggage limits (which already were exceeding, anyway). I looked around and people and chix were dressed so casually and lightly but I was dressed like a snowman ready to conquer Alaska. I hauled up my 3 bags worried that if people nearby were staring at my clothing (which they totally were) and somehow cleared up with the long line of the people taking the flight with me. I was getting my boarding passes done (I needed 3 of them), only 2 were made yet and suddenly their computer flashed or something and they stamped my two passes and asked me to follow some police lady. I was supposed to be perhaps handed over the third boarding pass from Chicago to my final destination but it didn't happen and I guess that's what responsible for #5. Anyway, so the lady explained to me,

Police Lady (PL): Follow me for the Random check interview of passengers.
Me: Huh?
PL: Everyday 5 or 6 people out of the thousands who travel daily are specially interviewed for security purposes. The computer assigns that.
Me: Uh? But (Face full of sweat and tension now)
PL: Oh its nothing, its nothing. The officer will ask just a few simple questions, don't worry, it's routine.

 And that assurance of her made me doubt this random interview even MORE. True story.

 So I was led into this special interrogation room where already a black man was getting interviewed. They were grilling him why he was carrying 60kg excess of baggage. And I guess he was not cool about disclosing the bags to these people and was trying to leave the airport. I was seated in front of a very stern looking bald Indian officer who began questioning me very sternly.

 He asked me a few of questions like,
"Where to?"
"Why US"
"What for in the univ?"
He was pretty cold in all these questions perhaps because all this time he was busy making all kinds of scratches on my Visa and passport. He was checking the authenticity of every part of my passport. Then,
"Which univ you studied before?"
"Bla blah blu"
"Oh that's a reputed university!" (His tone became a lil casual)

 Then he handed me over my passport and said smilingly,
"Btw, your hair looks like a porcupine, ;)."

I exited the interrogation room with my passport in one hand and hand bag in other with an idiot like grin. This hairstyle and the comment was just the beginning of a new era.

The Germans
When my flight landed at Frankfurt, Germany I had an excited and great time to see the airport for 3.5 hours. I very much intended to shop there. I had bought a chocolate like thingy at the large shopping complex in Delhi airport and now it was a Swiss chocolate that took my heart here at Germany. Also I wanted to shop just for the sake of saying "Yes I have shopped around a few continents…" So all this while roaming around the airport I found the Germans to be quite amusing. These German ladies were all hot and stuff. Redheads, you know? So they were like RED HOT. I had this imaginary conversation with a young hot german lady (YHGL).

YHGL: Qaustro quastro pero.
Me: Quastro quastro you're hot.
YHGL: Quastro quastro this is your first time in a developed country isn't it?
Me: Quastro quastro yes, indeeeeeeeeed. So there are others like you?
YHGL: Quastro quastro indeeeeeed.
ME: Quastro quastro, great, I look forward to more imbaness.

 I left her alone then and wandered around to look for other Germans. There was this Gothic-druggist-gay type young man and he was quite hot too. He could have played a Dracula in any upcoming paranormal movie. But Germans were a bit loud. Not much, but yeah a bit. When I tried to talk to the airport staff when I was searching for my terminals, one german lady kinda told me stuff so loud that everyone around was staring at us or me. Lol.


The Chinki Brothers
I found these two guys from Nepal who were on same route Delhi-Frankfurt-Chicago and we 3 kinda stayed together most of the time. One was the Elder Chinki, 4 years elder to me and was going for some ultra noob university. His and mine major were coincidentally same but when I heard his univ's name I almost asked him "How did you get your Visa approved?". But he was all like in Nepal they are allowing easily this time. And then this Younger Chinki was 4 years younger to me and was going to some unknown university for his undergrad. Wierdos both of them.

 But of course, not weirder than me. ;p

Sample, of course.

One thing I didn't like about Chinki brothesr was that in middle of our conversation they often started using their native language and I was all left like, "Huh wtf are you saying ppl," and then it came to their minds after a few minutes that they should speak in hindi. Their English sucked badly. When I say badly I mean even worse than mine. Now you can judge yourself.

 But the thing I liked about them was their love for Bollywood. They could praise it endlessly. Even on the plane out of the 30 or so top Hollywood movies, they chose to watch the only one available Bollywood movie (some flop one) on their entertainment centers. And on this flight, they were sitting apart and still they watched exactly the same movie. I was like "LoL, how could you watch it.." And they were like, "Oh it was so funny!" and continued their praise for Bollywood. They also told me how expensive the dollar was for them because their rupee was quite weaker to the Indian rupee. If my ticket was for 50k rupees their's was for 75k :O

It happens rarely but that time I felt proud of being an Indian.


Chicago from Above
While aboard I tried to sleep most of the times or read my book. I partially watched the movie "How to train your dragon" and I found it pretty cool. Some of the scenes were so mesmerizing and analogous to the view outside my window (I had window seat yay :D) Like in the movie the kid was exhilarated driving his dragon so I too clapped in excitement when I saw the thin wings of the plan slicing through the huge clouds. It was like wafting over mountains of cotton or perhaps snow. And when we neared Chicago as our plane began to descend, I was able to see those huge sky scrapers of the city. They looked so majestic. I wanted to write the description of the aerial view of the city then and there only. One line that I formed in my mind was something like this,

"The skyscrapers were pieces of tall, cold steel on the face of flat, warm earth."

Then I nudged my Elder Chinki brother and said, "Hey see the view outside! Wow! the buildings!" He gave the most dispassionate and not-interested brief glance and resumed his preparation for the landing. I was all like perhaps he too being a civil engineer might like the view outside and understand my feelings for the structures. I was all crazy on seeing those huge structures. But this guy clearly wasn't. He had a lot of issues actually.

Like the entire time, he wore his seat belts. LOL. And when the plane landed or took off he used to hold the side handles of his seat and sit up straight. I was like, "C'mon, we won't die so soon."


"Your travel agency is fraud sir, your name is not on the flight."
Till I reached Chicago the trip was quite awesome and I had a nice time making fun of everything and everyone around me. But after seeing me act like a smartass for a long time, the God guy gave my life a little twist. Yeah a LITTLE twist. I had around 3 hours at Chicago airport to catch my last connecting flight out of which more than 1 hour was wasted at the Customs line where I nearly escaped nabbing by a lady and her smelling doggy. The smelling small doggy was moving around the line and sniffing everyone's bags. He passed mine and I got a sigh of relief but the Elder chinki guy's bag made him stop wagging his tail so there were some problems. I don't know what happened later with his cuz at this point, our paths had diverged.

Then I checked in my bags for the next flight and when I reached the counter to Check in MYSELF, here's how the convo between me and a rude bald American guy went:
Guy: Which flight you are on? (Scanning my passport)
Me: The UA@#$ at bla bla to bla bla..
Guy: Nope, you are'not.
Me: Huh? But my e-ticket has #$%@$#@$ $ @#$
Guy: I am looking at the ticket in the computer and you have no such booking sir.
Me: I booked through MAKEMYTRIP guys and how it is possible??
Guy: Your travel agency is fraud sir, your name is not on the flight. Sorry you need to redo the whole thing and go to terminal 1.

He returned my passport and disappeared. At that very moment, all the fun and excitement vanished in thin air. I was like, "Ohkay, now you're getting to me, USA" So it was like, my baggage was already sent to the next flight BUT I wasn't. So I ran here and there and finally found a special counter where people could address their problems. A long queue was there and I somehow got my boarding pass made and entered the flight just 5 mins before they closed gates. I think it was probably because of the event that happened at the Delhi airport.

All sweaty and tired and full of jet lag and thirsty as I finally sat on the domestic plane, I grabbed what they offered me shortly afterward. I opted for some can of Apple and Cranberry juice with an empty glass full of crushed ice. It was refreshing. After a few minutes I noticed it had "Cocktail" written all over it. I thought I had tasted alcohol kinda thingy. So I asked the American sitting next to me,

"This isn't beer right?"

He laughed at me and said that it was just juice.


I was like, "Ohkay, anyway I have taken too much stuff upon myself today. So whatever."

So as the day of escape(an illusion?) approaches near, I look forward to my expectations getting fulfilled.

This is totally me. Ofcourse. Stop zooming now.

Before I begin with that list, let me tell you that my mom is kinda driving me nuts by daily asking for some new thing to buy or shop to take with me to the US. And I am kinda lazy, shopping-hating person who can happily move from one place to another with a bunch of undergarments and shorts occasionally. Hell, I don't even pack toothbrush at times when travelling. Cuz even if I do pack, I often forget to do the brushing thing. Hey now, now, we are revealing too much personal information here. Stop, stop.

So yes, as my mommy packs up my entire room in two and a half huge bags (not really as huge as compared to my peers, but huge as per the villager standards), I sit here, trying to remember what all I expect from the land of the opportunities..

1. Full time electricity/power?
Last night there were quite a few nice power cuts in my sad village. One for three hours and other small-small of two hours in the day. It's really nice when you have something important to do on your computer, electricity is not there and you can happily skip off that work and besides its true than when electricity goes off at night, you are not able to clearly see other people or things, but then again, bumping into someone or something, or furniture which has hard/pointed edges/corners in the middle of the night is also yet again another awesome experience which sadly the citizens of developed nations like US can hardly experience and so having power cuts is kinda great but still I wish in US there will be full time electricity.

2. Unlimited Internet?
In my village (remember every time I say village, I am not limited to the actual village I live in, half of the times, village = India) Internet is kinda quite slow. If I have to watch a video on youtube, I have to place a order first (open the link and allow to buffer) and then go have dinner, sleep etc and then come back to find that the video I wanted to see is finally fully loaded! Yay! (not to mention if a power cut happened all in this while, then your loaded video is gone and you back to square one. Congrats) But yes there are some companies which give faster internet and your video can buffer fast-fast, but then the download limit will be there which is kinda not cool, if you want to download a huge amount of data, sooner or later you will exceed that limit and your daddy will have to pay for your bills and perhaps your daddy will then slap your face or kick your ass whatever he spots first and so although I will miss all this very much, I expect US to have unlimited and ultra fast internet.

3. Coffee? 
I kinda have a myth or something that writers need some addictive coffee on their table to continue to write shit. I mean I am able to write shit anyway all the time. But wouldn't it be cool if I write shit AND drink coffee? Then I can always blame the coffee for the shit I wrote.

"Hey coffee sissy, its you making me write such bad stories n shit, screw you!" 


Would be so cool. And in my village, I don't get good real addictive coffee. All here I can get is some packed shit that doesn't even make me feel high. I have heard in US, coffee has a good variety and too much of it can really screw your life OR writing. SO I kinda expect that to happen.

4. Freedom?
Yeah, freedom is what is all about. I am not talking about the freedom to urinate or spit in public, that kinda freedom you can only have in my village. I am talking about other kinda freedom. You know? Freedom to live your life without any weird stares from people around you. Although I have lived in that freedom most of the time of my shitty life but it would be cool if other people like family, friends, dragons, demons, cats, dogs, mosquitoes, houseflies, bacterium stop bothering me by their dangerous glances they make whenever I do something new.



Hmmm, so that's what its all about. More or less. Can't remember more, but yeah there are plenty more. I think I should go brush now. Or perhaps take a bath. Or maybe none of them and fool around on the Internet with a foul breath in my mouth and few bacteria on my body and waste my day, as usual.

Anything you feel like saying, anything, any expectation you (reader) may have when going somewhere (or US or any country or any village for that matter) or anything that is entirely not related to the above post but not limited to dragonflies or zombies, you are welcome to comment. 

Yay!

Finally my Visa to US of A has been approved (somehow) by a wierdo visa officer. After many months I felt that "true happiness" kinda stuff. It was a fun filled ride of my two day trip to American Embassy, New Delhi which I am so eager to share with you people that I have been punching keys the moment I reached home. A have a bunch of snippets and memories to share and so they are organized as per your convenience.

And yes, a wardrobe malfunction is coming up too down the post, you gotta get reading ;)

A Vote of Thanks.
But yes, some gratitude first! Special thanks to supporting friends like Vatsan and Deorah (who actually a day before the interview, took an half hour long mock interview to charge me up. The kind of questions he posed entirely raped me but sort of prepared me for the worst. I unconditionally recommend him for a job of a Visa Officer in the immigrant section especially. America will be happier. LoL)

Also thanks for the kind wishes of the people who commented on my previous post. Holly (An Amazing Blogger), Snehal and Palak, you people really rock for being so regular here!

To my family, who believed in me.

And yes thanks to those who came there, felt my pain and left without their footprints. I welcome them again :)

The City of New Delhi
Leaving my village (Bhatinda) behind for two days was a relief. Who doesn't prefer beautiful structures looming above you and hot chicks lurking around you? Although Delhi has it's own problems of pollution and population. But the area we visited and took the hotel room in was quite nice to hang around. The place having all the embassies is quite posh and filled with all sorts of foreigners. The streets are bundled with sleek hotels and enticing food joints. I had a hell lot of street and chat food a day before my Interview. I just did not want to stay idle, so kept myself busy till the final hour. Roamed the streets, got some few things done related to the documentation n stuff, checked out the chicks (which were definitely better than what I see these days @ village).

It's like that in advanced n modern cities, no matter what, chicks know how to carry themselves out. They know what to hide and what to accentuate. So it kinda works ;) But sorry, I digress. This post must be about my Interview.

Ill-Will ho gaya...
I returned to my room at night and discovered the alternating patterns of hot and cold stuff had made my throat go bad. I was quite worried that the condition will worsen by the next day. So I took some throat healing toffees, vicks etc (they did not help much). Next morning I woke up and decided to do the hot water gargles. Turned out that the first gargle made me vomit. And quite a junky stuff landed before my washbasin which I was expecting anyway. I could make out the contents of it, not completely though.

So all in all, a nice start for the biggest interview of my life (till date). The appointment was at 0915 hours and I checked out at around 8 in hurry and somehow reached on time.

Da Interview
Now this is my favorite part...I had prepared the documentation and all for like a month just for this day. Read around 300-400 interviews on the Internet to prepare myself for this. But my interview...it was nothing like I had ever seen before (hardly..)

The Delhi embassy was quite organized and I was rather amazed by the professionalism in the way they were carrying out their routine work. Around me were a lot of non-immigrant people, many of them sweating hard. Rejects and refusals were raining hard. I tried myself to engage in arranging my docs while I waited for my Token number to be called.

I was assigned to this 25-30 year old, male VO(Visa Officer) with short hair and a stone cold face. He was hammering a Sikh(=Sardarji) guy before me pretty hard. What I heard is this-->

VO: Why this Univ---why you select this---why not study in India-----
Sikh Guy: I-i-i-i-t mmmmmmmatches-s-ss mmmmy prrrrofile. (He was shaking so bad that he couldn't even speak properly. The applicant appeared so afraid that he took a full minute to speak this line "It matches my profile" and what a lame answer.)
VO; I am rejecting your Visa. Thump. (He stamped reject on his passport and returned it to him)

Next was my turn. I was almost sure that this arrogant VO guy can screw the hell outta me. I approached cautiously. But believe me, this guy amazed me. That's how it went-->

VO: (Looking at his computer screen continuously and typing something, as I approached he ignored me completely)
DK: Good Morning officer (Said in a normal tone, after waiting for 10 seconds)
VO: (Gave no reply, did not even look at me, just placed his hand in the sliding place of the counter, pointing towards my stapled passport. I forwarded my passport and i20)
VO: So how many universities you applied to? (that was a wierd question to be the first one),
DK:  Six universities. I applied to X, Clemson univ, ASU, UFL, U of Cincinnati-(Cuts me here)
VO: Your Visa has been issued. It will be couriered to you. 


I was like. WTF? One question? No documents asked? No GRE, TOEFL? NO Degree %? NO Finance? I mean I was like, "Cmon man atleast see something, lol, at least see my GRE man..lol".

I was so  DUMBSTRUCK, that I actually stood there with a blank face staring at him, not believing his words. His arrogant and stoned face still made me feel like it was a reject. He had to get rid of me from his eyes sight by yelling "NEXT" and then I only remember being shoved out of the line by a fat candidate behind me...

And that was it...lol.

Visa Interview, big hype but all bullshit. I think the reasons behind this "shortest interview" are that
1. He was quite pissed off that Sikh guy before me. (Thanks Sikhs, really.)
2. He had already seen in my i20 the scholarship etc and that's why din't worry about finance and all.

ANYWAY, IT WAS DAMN COOL. I never expected MY VI would be SO AWESOME ;) 

The Wardrobe Malfunction
And here it is, your best part buddy. The one you have been waiting for so long or maybe simply scrolled down to read it first ;) It's okay, I understand. ;p

So it's weird you know, at the embassy there were a few chicks that weren't really dressed well. I mean too casual or maybe too slutty. High pointed heels with Low deep neck tops. I mean, c'mon. You are here for a professional interview and not some. . .All the time I was thinking about THEM that what if they accidentally revealed too much to the VO and he gets angry and denies you visa?

But fate is evil. Turns out it was ME who suffered from a wardrobe malfunction all along.

Only thing is I realized it a little too late. I came out of the embassy all smiling and happy, grinning at the crowd of the anxious parents waiting outside, looking for my dad. Some of them were grinning back at me (lol). I found my dad and he was quite happy on hearing the news. He expressed his worries that since  morning he was a little negative about the lousy clothes I had worn for this day and was thus afraid that they might reject me on the basis of my casualty with regards clothing.

He again reviewed me from top to bottom and said, "You look awful. Look everyone is dressed in formal. And you were so casual. But I guess that doesn't matter. You GOT IT."

"Yeah dad, I got it. The sikh guy before me who got rejected was in full formals, white shirt, black trousers, nicely fitted turban and all..."

"Hey but wait, what omg. Your trouser's zipper is open. lol" with that he slapped his palm on his forehead and I felt weird lol. And I thought, all this time...lol...

I forget to fly it up I guess before leaving the hotel where I pee'ed the last in hurry. And since those 2-3 hours, I was roaming like this. .In the entire embassy, in my interview, I was a moving wardrobe malfunction. God, lol.

But anyway not much harm done, no revelation of any kind of course, my loose shirt was quite low, so I guess that covered the place for most of the time. :D

Funny day.