Prom Queen '71

“Oh! So you are his elder son. Sit. Have a seat first..” she said

She is Shashi. Introduction followed immediately. And as I settled down in my chair, “Oh! So your are that girl. I mean lady” I said to myself in my mind. Trying to smother the grin on my face.

You could notice her presence. She wore Saree. And in a way that I know my mom wears it – graceful and classy. She looked straight into your eyes and wore a hearty smile.

My dad has had the best set of friends and still does from his undergrad. The kind of friends you hear about in the stories told at the bar, or see in movies, but more importantly friends you wish you had. Friends that have been together for over four decades. Friends that have celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, new years and have now mourned passing of members of friend circle. Friends,  I call – Kakas – uncles. At times I feel closer to them then my actual uncles. After all, uncles that let you have some beer with them while you were in eighth grade tend to be close to your heart.

I had just flown in a day before from the US and I had heard that it was 100 year celebration of my dad’s college and all these uncles were going to be there. Class of ’71 one more time. Not having seen my favorite uncles, it was a no brainer I was going to try to crash the alumni party. It turned out easier than I thought.

Now I did take the seat as she asked me to. And I don’t know where it came from but I heard myself saying something to this effect – “Oh I had heard stories about how beautiful you used look. I see they were true and you still look so pretty.” Now I know this had something to do with a few stories I may have heard from dad and rest I think I filled in after my own undergrad experience. I mean how different could it have been in 60’s and 70’s.

I thought I received ‘apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’ look from her and then her words contradicted – “ Like father like son. Always flattering.”

Yes, I am a proud son of my father. I smiled.

You should know, earlier that day my father was hospitalized. He was stable by the time I made it to this party. I spent an hour or so there, all of that time talking about my dad and hearing from his friends about him. I really don’t have words to describe how it felt. I felt I was walking a walk of his life, living this moment on his behalf because he couldn’t be here. Paying compliments because I think he would have if he was here.

And as I was getting ready to leave, in the most tongue-in-cheek manner I asked her, “So what else should I know about my dad.” She smiled, leaned in and said “He is a wonderful man. Nothing more and nothing less. You should know that.” 

Neo

Stay

Until very recently I couldn’t understand how people lingered in their cars a little longer once they were parked. Why would they stay there any longer than they absolutely had to. I just couldn’t fathom it. I just thought it might be an American thing… you know free refills, big cars, fast food that sort of a thing.

Until this morning.

I drove in the dead of the morning to work. I was listening to this true story on podcast. And as I cut the last corner to pull into the parking lot, for my car stereo to echo the applause and my tear glands to let go, was the same opportunistic moment, the moment as I just stopped before ramming my car into the concrete.

And I stayed. Lights on, heater running, seat belt off, hand on my mouth and other on the hand rest, toggling podcast streaming. I am not sure how long I kept staring into infinity. Cars pulled up on either side and the old lady on my left, interrupted my staring contest with her warm, elderly smile. I managed a polite smile as well. And then took a deep breath and couldn’t help but chuckle at myself – you silly bugger.

And in that moment I understood, the importance of staying a while longer.

It is no different than, when a kid wakes up from the dream and wants to close his eyes for a moment longer so he could finish building his castle, it is when your father pulls up outside of the school and you want to bury your face in the backseat and refuse to leave, when a sales guy takes that deep breath, goes over his pitch before stepping out of the car, when you wait a little longer to open your cab door as you are at the departure gate, when you hug someone and as they are drawing back you feel them slip through your embrace, when you want him or her or something to go on a little longer.

So the next time, Stay! Stay a while longer, it is ok. 

Neo

Before Sunrise I

Two single ride tickets for BVG – Berlin Metro were still sitting on my work desk until very recently. In some sense like breadcrumbs to help steer through memories of that evening.

It was September. I had just travelled 1800kms just to have dinner with my host family in Freiburg, Germany. The look their face when I walked in the room made every single mile I had traveled worth it. Now, I was flying out to Berlin. The city I adored. The first city I set my foot in, in Germany.

I amazed right from the day I landed with the differences between the East and the West. The history, architecture, Jewish quarters, abandoned building turned into art studios, concentration camps, falafel and beer on the street, the dome of German Reichstag and the silent witness to all the river Spree – that serpents  through the city.

When wheels touch down at Berlin Tegel, all that I experienced as a 21 year old, flashes in front of my eyes. As I walk down the walkways in the airport, I remember, the last time I walked through these, I was looking for Air France’s customer service office as they had misplaced my bad.

I make my way through the gates and exit the airport. And I wish if I could get another chance at making an entrance, another chance at seeing her through the sliding doors for the first time. I am expecting her to be there and I am excited. But I haven’t seen her in 6 years. It has been 8 years since we parted ways.

The tattoos, piercings, and haircut, she has changed since I saw her last. She is wearing all black and an orange colored scarf. Her piercings reflect the light from the overhead tungsten lamp at the arrival terminal.

Then I think about myself, what about me – a business suit instead of torn jeans, a roller suitcase instead of a backpack, and a credit card instead of cash.  Tonight I have a hotel to check in versus someone’s bachelor pad. Things do change.

As I make my way to her, I remind myself it is a business trip and we are going to have a drink and that is that. And then she hugs me.

We jump on a metro to get to my hotel. I drop my bags and we are out on the streets of Berlin. Bus – Train – Taxi, we finally make it to Kreuzberg – a so called hippy neighborhood close to the wall. Well, at least what remains of the wall.

We sit down by the river and try to catch each other up on our lives and the 6 years that have gone by. There is a rescue operation going on in the background. Someone jumped off the bridge and emergency services are looking for him.  30 odd minutes pass by and we realize that we are all caught up. Once the adrenaline of meeting someone after so long drains off, we realize it is pretty cold by the water so we decide to walk. Walk by the great Berlin wall.

It is too cold so we must duck into a bar. A dingy, smoky place. She orders and we now have beer. There aren’t too many people there. I couldn’t tell you what we spoke about but in that moment it felt engaging. You know when you rather not blink because you may miss something, it felt like that.

The charm of the evening is just overwhelming. I try to recollect how the 22 year old felt when he met her in this city and if I could be 22 just this once.  And she brings me right back to my senses, when she say “Bist du Ok? Was ist loss?” – simply put – “Are you ok ? What’s up?”

I am fine but I think I need to walk a little. Clear my mind perhaps. We walk over to the Spree and we are standing by the river again. It is some ungodly hour and I don’t want to know how long before Sun shows up on the horizon. Standing by the river, looking at the Alexander Tower – I say “We are finally here.”

A promise, rather a wish both of us made / had when we were together – We ought to have a night on town in Berlin – she once said. I seconded.  

And this is it but it is nothing like the 22 year old and the 19 year old imagined it to be. You know that time in your life when you think anything is possible and it really is in that moment.  

In between hopping bars that stay open all night long, and getting something to eat, jumping on and off of Metros – somewhere in between we realize we have grown up. And as the first light of the morning is about to descend, we are ascending on the escalator at the metro station – ‘Under Den Linden’, coming up on Brandon Burger Tor. The Berliner Gate. A place that is very special to me.

I clasp her hand tight as the gate begins to come into sight of our vision and we can feel the sun rays on our persons.

Just like a kid trying to shut his eyelids tight in hope of going back to that dream he was woken from – I close mine for a second. She notices me and smiles like she always does.

We are now right in front of the monument. I sip on the last sip of the remaining coffee and light a cigarette and she steals a drag.

I realize that I have a meeting in an hour. I must get back. She has to work on a paper. Sun light - now floods the sidewalk, the rood, and all those nooks and corners one could hide the evening before.

It is time. She looks me square in the eyes and says –  “Find yourself and you will find happiness. I am going to do it myself. One is meant to do it individually.”

I want her to get on the metro first. As she hands me those two tickets for BVG – Berlin Metro, she vehemently explains where I need to change the trains, which street I need to turn on to get back to my hotel. Then she hugs for one last time and doors closed behind her.

I jump on the train in the other direction.

We ran into each other in three different countries but Berlin is where we met for the first time. So in some sense it is poetic that we met there the last – at least for the near future. 

Neo

Snowflakes

Like any other weekday morning, I ducked into coffee shop across the street and grabbed my medium roast coffee. As I stepped out to walk up to my office, I felt the chill in the air, and soon enough noticed the snowflakes settling down on my shoulders. The first ones of this winter...

For someone like me who comes from a warmer climate, a few years ago ‘snow’ in itself was a foreign concept and then snow in October was just unfathomably foreign concept. Now, it doesn’t seem that strange but I still need time to get used to it.

I shove my left hand deep in my pocket, take off the cup-sleeve and feel the full warmth of my cup of coffee. As I rush along the side-walk, I notice the trees. In fact, I notice lack of leaves, actually. Just the skeleton of branches, shivering in the wind as the snow settles on the trunks. 

And it strikes me, it is winter.

It is perhaps time to shed off all that has run its course. Some absurdities, heartaches, and even a few blunders that crept in, it is time to let them fall off so you could be ready for all things new, exciting, and challenging.

It is time to serenely embrace the new season and seek new activities, connections, and routines.

For now it’s time to seek warmth.

Neo 

30 Days Of Sobriety

Let it be known that I was never a raging alcoholic and I don’t plan to become one.

Here is an account of going 30 something days without drinking alcohol of any kind

• Drinking six glasses of water in the same time that you would take to drink six beers, doesn’t feel nice
• The number of times I got asked (please note : with noticeable concern in their voice) “You are not drinking?” As if, my lever would suffer severe consequences if I took it off its staple diet of beer and whiskey
• My upstairs neighbors party really hard and late
• 90% of my social interactions involved saying “Cheers”
• Some of us have dropped those F-bombs with additional qualifiers after one too many drinks and have those “I love you Man” moments, I did not have those in the past 30 days
• Waking up at 7 on Saturdays wasn’t half as bad, and sailing crew acknowledged – “you are showing up awfully early for weekend races”
• I ran 10K under an hour
• Received messages to the effect of “Hey man, thank you so much for getting me home last night.”
• After a long crazy Saturday night on town and four ginger ales later, I walked away with a tab of $3 ( Slice of pizza costs more )

I could go on. However, on a more serious note, the conversations were engaging, I didn’t second guess myself next morning, I enjoyed people-watching at bar, saved some money. Spent a bunch of Fridays home reading, writing and thinking.

I realized that I truly enjoy drinking good alcoholic beverage. May that be a kraft hoppy beer, a pale ale, or a full-body red wine, smoky bourbon or an 18 year old single malt Scotch, or dry and crisp Gin with twist of lemon & tonic. I enjoy the taste.

Also, one day sober or a lifetime, all it takes is a drink to go back to zero. It isn’t about the days and months of sobriety, like all things, it is about moderation

Cheers

Neo

Perspective

Fundraiser, I don’t like that word. In my dictionary the word has a very negative meaning. It paints a picture of a banquet hall filled with privileged people, competing for the attention and the seat at the hottest table, as far removed from the cause as they could be, and rubbing shoulders with other socialites.

This was different. Room was packed with diverse set of people and when my friend took the microphone and read out the numbers and success stories of asylum seekers, the room resonated in applaud. However, nothing my friend said could sum it up like Paul (that is not his real name) – who was granted asylum thanks to the efforts of The Advocates For Human Rights did. He said, “You can not stop sadness and fear from visiting you. But these people helped me shut the door slam on that sadness and fear. Thank you so much for helping finally sleep peacefully at night.”

It is inspiring to see the lawyers stand up for a cause. I imagine there is more money and fame in patent infringement, high-profile divorces, and suing McDonald’s for their extra hot coffee for that matter. But these guys are here, rescuing one life at a time.

Being in a foreign country myself, I have my set of sadness and fears as well. Certainly nothing compared to Paul’s. But his words did help me put it things in perspective. 

Sure, there are uncertainties and insecurities but I still have the basic freedom to believe what I choose to, follow any religion I prefer, love regardless of gender, and above all express myself.

And for that I am grateful. 

Neo

Surprise Yourself

First time I ran for more than half an hour without anyone chasing me was last year for my company’s community 5K run. I ran liked a mad man, and half an hour later all I felt was my legs and heart pounding at the pace that made me worried.

This year when I went back for the same 5K run, I shaved two minutes of my time. That’s it, it was time for double or quits. I signed up for a 10K without losing any time.

Day 1 of training for my 10K and I buckled down after 4 miles. I limped back home. The pain in my foot didn’t subside and I found out I was suffering from Plantar Fasciitis. It is nothing but a way of saying my foot really hurts when I try to move.

I gave up training for the race. I even looked into refund policies. And now I was now going to be that guy - “No Show.”

And then something unexpected happened. My colleague, a tennis player in her past life, handed me a tennis ball and said “8 hours that you are sitting at your desk, keep rolling your foot over the ball. Ice it. Rest it. Don’t give up on the race yet.”

A couple of days later, another friend offered up a splint that would help.

Come race day, I showed up. Unsure of what to expect, I had a mantra - Run, Walk or Tumble, I am crossing that line. However, to my utter surprise, I rounded up my first mile within 9 minutes, half way mark in 30 and now I was running to beat 60 minute mark. And I beat it. 57:40.

But that is not the coolest part. You know what is really cool, I enjoyed the run, I noticed the fall that had now set in the Twin cities, noticed a guy with his guitar who was busking – singing Beatles songs, lady who was blasting Journey (Don’t stop believing)  on her front yard to support the runners, I took in the view as I came up the hill, and crossed the finish line. Oh and surprised myself – that I could do it. 

Neo

Nostalgia

Wondering how things used to be …

And I notice the logs burning in the fireplace

Effortlessly giving light and warmth, while turning into soot

And so did all those wonderful moments

They appeared out of nowhere, lit up my life with warmth and faded away

Nostalgia is like a warm fireplace on a cold winter night

I sit there with the intimate company of loneliness and in the warmth of moments gone by

Neo

You Took A Shot & Missed ..... Again !!

…Shit ! I think she gave me the wrong number or did I mistype one of the digits.

…She doesn’t seem to return my texts, tried calling but no answer.

I thought it went really well..drinks, dinner, walk to her car. Been two weeks, no communicado !

But this time it was different… I mean really. I waited until I saw her for the second time at this friend’s get-together… and she said “A drink or something is fine but as friends. Is that cool?”

 Guess what... single, approaching 30 and fairly tired of people playing games. This is such a relief. 

Well not the best outcome possible, but given the circumstances the Optimal. 

I say optimal, but I begin to back-track ... so which were the clues that I missed ? Should I have waited? Shouldn't have texted, perhaps call would have worked better... maybe had I phrased it differently ?

These carefully laid out downward spiraling questions, safely lead me to the ultimate question -  the self doubt... it must be me! What's up with me ?

And then it hits me. What Morpheus said - the lines from Matrix - ""Whatever happened, happened, and couldn’t have happened any other way."  Why, because, I am still here. We are still here. The clock is still ticking and seasons are still changing. 

And then for kicks sake, I start peeling the onion. On what happened...

Well, I guess it was the walk back from the bars. It was late, we were both sober ( well, six drinks sober ), I can't remember what we spoke about exactly but sure enough it must have been somewhat romantic and fittingly poetic. I guess it was the hanging out even after the bars were closed.

Or maybe that hug...that night. It definitely lasted longer than 3 Mississippi count.

And then you wonder, wait ...did I talk myself into asking this person out ? Didn't I too just wanted to hang out and share stories ? Well, if I am not sure what I wanted, why am I talking myself into feeling even remotely unhappy about what she said...

One of my dear friends would read this and say - "Stop being such a girl about it." ( No offense to the ladies and FYI this dear friend happens to be a lovely girl)  

So more importantly, the long and short of it, is I guess that I may have read a few things the way I wanted to read them. Interpreted them in a way the world wisdom has taught me to and it turns out I was wrong. 

What is important though, is a little less of ascribing a great deal of significance to coincidences, gestures that are subconscious, and especially conversations past 1 o'clock. 

And a little more of - mindfully going with the flow. Letting it pan out. 

Secretly, though, I would tell my 17 year old self, with a big smile... "I tried."

Neo