January 13, 2016
Love, Sweat & Years
30 years in USA
A grey custom tailored suit, an Aristocrat VIP hard shell plastic suitcase and a duffel bag. Some clothes, a pair of worn out shoes, an oversized woolen sweater stitched by my grandmother, a couple of hundred dollars and a jar full of my mothers tears. This is what I left with on this very day, 30 years ago. Palam Airport, TWA flight to New York JFK and then on to LAX. Listening to “Take on Me” by A-Ha, over and over again on the flight, the first sight of San Fernando Valley with it’s glistening lights while descending on the 405 freeway and walking into a am-pm mini market and taking in the sight of what seemed an endless variety of wrigley chewing gums (yeah, they were a big deal in India). Incredible! I was smitten with USA on day one.
My father was often complimented by many of his friends for being a “self made man”. I have heard this over the years and a few have said the same to me in recent times. I understood the words but could never really reconcile with them, I still can’t. How can anyone ever be self made? After all, your mere presence in this world is due to someone else. The point being, there is no way anyone can ever be “self made”. My journey of 30 years in this amazing land is proof that I am here because of countless hands that reached out to help me at various junctures of my life. I could never profess to be “self made”.
Unlike a rolling stone, a journey this long, gathers plenty of moss. It would take me a sizable time to chronicle and to recognize all of the people who have made an impact on me over the years but there are many without whom I would not be here. These were people who never knew me and yet found a place in their home for me to stay, without whom, I would have been truly homeless. These were people who helped me while I was down and out and gave me whatever they could, a hug, a compliment, a hand whenever I needed something, anything. The journey has seen a lot of blood, sweat, years and many tears. I am thankful and fortunate to be where I am in my life and I wanted to take this moment to recognize the people behind it.
No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee. - John Donne
