Good calls

Yesterday, I went to Rantoul to play in a tournament. For the first time, I thought about playing with strangers and seeing how I fared. We were 5 of us, all put in $10 and started off with 10000 chips each. Winner takes $50.

I started off well, winning some small pots and quickly became the chip leader. Once I become chip leader, I hate to lose my position and the advantage. Two of the players went out gradually, one of them was eliminated by me, but he made a bad call with a mediocre hand.

The turning point came when the blind were 500/1000. I had about 20000 chips and the guy to the left of me had about 18000. That left the 3rd player, a woman across the table, with around 12000 chips.

I had 76 off suit and decided to go for it. I raised the big blind three times and bet 3000. I was the small blind and the guy to my left was the big blind. Having already put 500 in the pot, he decided to raise my bet. He made it 6000. This was a huge decision for me. I thought to myself, he won't risk so many of his chips on a bluff, coz he doesn't have that big a stack. If he does have AA, KK, QQ or any other pocket pair, I am in bad shape. But if he has AK, AQ etc then my odds are decent, coz low cards might just hit the deck in the flop. Another possibility was, he was bluffing and just trying to collect the money I had raised with. Well, if that was true, then I was in good shape. I decide to go for it. I called. The flop came 6 6 3. I had made a set (three of a kind). Now I knew this hand was mine. The action was on me and I bet 6000. Now he thought about it for a long time. And after a while, he pushed all-in, and I immediately called. He was shocked. He thought he had me beat, opening up 8 3 off suit. When he saw my set, he began cursing. I was immensely happy with the way I had played the hand and I won it. I now had close to 38000 chips vs the woman's 12000. Later the guy told me that he was really impressed when I called his re-raise, and that he was just trying to take the blinds and raised money.

I ended up winning the tournament and reflecting back at this moment as the turning point. It happens a lot, when you end a tournament, reflecting back on major decisions and cards. I'm just happy I made the right move at the right time.

LOL

I worked as an instructor over the summer and I could not have been happier. I love teaching and always will. It's something I always want to continue doing. My students are seniors in high school and unfortunately, or fortunately, I was teaching them anatomy. Here are some recapped moments.

Me: In which sport are the muscles of the arm used the most?
Student: Chess!

--------------------------

Student: So, Mr.AJ, what did you do over the weekend?
Me: I was grading your papers and I also spent some time with friends.
Student: What kind of friends?
Me: Ummm.... the good kind.
Student: I mean, do you have a girlfriend?
Me: Let's get back to the lecture, shall we?
Student: That's a "yes"!

-------------------------------

Me: What do you want to become after you graduate college?
Student: A stripper!
Me: I'm serious.
Student: So am I. It's going to be my night job. I don't know what I want to do during the day yet.

------------------------------------

Student: (answers to a written question) Babies have 300 bones because they haven't fused together yet, while humans have 206 after fusion occurs.
Me: I underline babies and humans.

--------------

Me: (written) What are the muscles that surround your heart called?
Student: (written) Cardeyack muscles.

----------------------


Me: Did she give you the notes?
Student: She said she hadn't written nothing.
Me: That's a negative negative. You can't use a negative negative. It implies the positive.
Student: That ain't true!

Wrong Number

At 7.30pm, I called a friend who is here in USA. I hadn't spoken to her for a long time on the phone. Went to my address book, clicked on her name and dialed the number. A low, squeaky voice answers
"Hmm"
"So rahe hai kya?" (Are you sleeping?), I asked.

Her reaction to that was a bunch of loud thuds. The signal was bad, couldn't hear her properly.
I hung up.

Later that night, I met her online and asked, "Do you know that I called you today, or are you still in your sleep?"
"When did you call me?" she asked.
"Around 7.30pm"
"No you didn't" she exclaimed confidently.
"Wait, I'll check"

As I checked the number I had dialed, I noticed a +91 as a prefix.
"Shit! Who has your cell in India?" I asked.
"My mother"

As soon as she said this, we both started laughing. I was feeling terribly sorry that I had woken up her mom at such an hour. It might have been around 6am there.

Later she explained to her mom what had happened and vowed to pull my leg on this subject for eternity. Her mom actually thought I was a drunk calling to harass her.

Maybe my voice has that natural tone. Sorry aunty!

( 30th July update - And now she has blogged about it too!! in a much better way, apart from all the exaggerations and leg-pulling!! )

It happens only in Kurla...

I start to think about having dinner, when the phone rings and I am told that the train arrives in an hour. I get ready and leave. Me and Jigar somehow find the Kurla Terminus which is located in some "khopchi" of Mumbai. At the Terminus, the first thing that I see is millions of people. At least it looked like millions. There was no road. There were people walking, people spitting, people sleeping, rickshaws parked, rickshaw drivers arguing, taxiwalas abusing each other left and right. There was a hint of a terminus, and five platforms. People camping on the floors, the toilets looking like gutters, the stalls looking like toilets, the telephone booths looking like stalls. From Illinois Terminal to Kurla Terminus. Wah!

I see an old man walking in the middle of the 'road' with a stick. I put an arm around him and took him to the side, saying, "Uncle, side mein aa jao. Gaadi lag jayegi." (Uncle, please come aside. You might get hit by a car). His smile was worth millions.

We tired to look for the ticket office. Supposedly we needed a platform ticket. The queue went on for miles. There were approximately 235 people standing in the line. It would have taken us about an hour to get to the counter and purchase the 2 rupee ticket. The train was scheduled to arrive in 25 mins.

Jigar said, "Ab kya?" (What now?)

"We'll go without the ticket onto the platform, what else?" was my answer.

"Paagal hai kya?" (Are you mad?)

"No other option, boss. We'll pay the fine. Whatever it is. 100-120 rupees."

Suddenly I had a wild idea. I told him to wait while I bugged the station master. I knocked and entered. He was on the phone but entertained me. "Yes?"

"Sir. Yahaan par ek hi ticket office hai platform ticket ke liye?" (Is there only one platform ticket office here?)

After his affirmative answer, I asked, "Kitna fine bharna padega ticket officer ne pakda toh?" (How much fine will I have to pay if caught by the ticket officer?)

He smiled. Kept the phone down. "Usko bolna ke Mishraji se baat hui hai. Mai hoon Mishra. Batai do usko", he said in his Bihari accent. (I am Mr.Mishra. Tell him that you have spoken to me)

Problem one solved.

Then the train arrives. My sister jumps on me, literally. She hadn't seen me for 5 months. We decide to hire some help for the bags. The coolie starts loading the bags and when he is almost done he names a price near 120 rupees. We all look at him in bewilderment and instruct him to unload the bags. We keep negotiating. Another man arrives on my right. He asks, "Taxi?"

I start negotiating with him about the taxi price which he thinks should be 250 rupees.

Typical bhendi bazaar scenario. Dus ka beees, dus ka beees.

Finally, after some hilarious numbers are thrown around, I manage to get the services of the coolie for 80 rupees and the taxi for whatever the taxi meter says plus 70 rupees(baggage). I ended up paying the taxi driver a total of 200 rupees. Money well saved I'd say.

God, I love bargaining. Just love it. Mumbai rocks!

Uniqueness

I have taken a course in Electric Propulsion this semester. My instructor, Prof. Burton, has approximately 30 years of experience in this area. He has even visited Russia (I think) during the good-old USSR days when exchange of material and technology was permitted.

Today during our class, he pulls out this sheet of paper with a picture of an Ion Thruster. While he was showing it to the class, I noticed that the paper was in Russian. I immediately asked him. He didn't know who had asked the question so he said, "Yes, it's in Russian. Does anybody know to read Russian?" That was my cue. He handed the paper to me and told me to translate. I started roughly translating most of it. He then interrupted me and told me to read just the title. It read "Electric Rocket Thruster", roughly, and it had a picture of it.

It is times like these when you feel unique. One of a kind. Like you know something that nobody else does. Like people will listen to what you have to say, and trust your word. That's the power a parent has, a teacher has. That's the power I wish politicians in India could have. Maybe once upon a time they did.

The first thing I did when I got home was checked whether what I had told them was right. I started hoping that I didn't create some techno-babble bullshit because I had a hunch. Fortunately, it was right. I realized that it was right all along. It couldn't have been anything else.

Be it the simplest of things, when you pass on knowledge or information to others from the top of the pyramid, you better be right, or at least correct the error as soon as possible.

My Russian Language Certificate (which I haven't got yet) means much more to me suddenly. Uniqueness is present in everyone of us. You will know when unleashed at the opportuned moment.

While you were sleeping

Have you ever woken up from a night's sleep or a short nap and felt a different person?

Have you ever felt that something changed while you were sleeping, but never managed to understand what?

It happened again today. It's been a while since I remember it happening.

I was exhausted from all the running around I had done on that Saturday afternoon. Three private tutions back-to-back during 10th std is enough to get your head aching. I decided to take a short nap after lunch and recharge my batteries. I wasn't looking forward to playing cricket that evening as the last time was painful. I was so scared of facing that bowler again, Harnish, was his name. I had got bruises on my foot and my wrist from the last time. I had been too boggled, not concentrating on the ball, more bothered about how to avoid it. I wanted to skip batting for the first time in my life. But I was too tired to think about it, so I slept.
A rush of blood ran through my head when I woke up. I felt as if I had dropped from Mars at that very instant. I looked around. Something felt different. It was 6pm. I got ready and joined my friends. When it was my turn to bat, I wondered how I would face the music while attempting to keep my eyes open. The first ball was played by me on the front foot. My outstretched foot was perfectly placed for me to play a forward defensive stroke. Where did that come from, I wondered. The second ball was a full toss which I slapped for six runs. It landed on the terrace of the opposite building. Who was holding the bat in my hand? It sure as hell wasn't me! I played like I was possessed. I took 18 runs of the over, which isn't too bad. It was a week until I faced Harnish again and I never got bruised again. I played him with sheer confidence and agression.

What happened during the time I was asleep is still a mystery to me, but I loved it.

I fell asleep on my study table during my 12th std prelim exams. It was 2am and I had been working on this particular math problem for 40 minutes without a clue. My eyes opened at 4.35am and I gazed at the geometric figure for half a minute. I knew the solution! I began writing the proof and just managed to carve something out of the stone. It turned out to be correct!

Did an angel come into my dreams and whisper something in my ear, or was it Newton or Pythagoras?
How can a rational or natural explanation exist to such bizzare phenomenon?

Today, I woke up and realized that I was falling short of expectations. I haven't been paying attention to the one thing that matters the most. I had almost lost sight of it. But someone must have held my hand ..... while I was sleeping.

Worn Out

In Russia, most undergraduate students live in dorms. Ask anyone who has lived in a dorm when he/she was a student, and they’ll tell you how crazy life can be. Late nights, stayovers, piles of books on your bed, conversations over coffee, fights, parties. It’s a crazy life! When I was in my final year undergrad, I took maximum advantage of my free time by spending it with friends and visiting places in St.Petersburg that I hadn’t seen before.

Sometime in December 2006, after having dinner with a friend, I decided to stay over at her place (don't get any ideas). We both had to go to church the next morning, and my place was a forty minute commute from hers, so staying over made sense as it was almost midnight. Her hostel was very strict about letting people stay over, so we had to get special permission from the person in-charge, the kommendant. The guards just wouldn’t let me in. She went into the kommendant’s office, while I stood outside, waiting in anticipation. I was too tired to go home and it was too late. When she came out, I was told that he had granted permission, but he would be visiting her room in an hour, just to check. I was relieved, if anything.

As we made ourselves comfortable at her place, she got an idea. As I didn’t have a washing machine at my place, she suggested that I change my clothes, put them in the washing machine at her place, and wear the clean clothes in the morning. I had my doubts about the dryer, she didn’t have any masculine clothes except a t-shirt and shorts. After her assurances, I changed and put the clothes for wash. We then began watching a short video of her sister’s wedding. Someone knocked at the door at around 12.30am. It was the kommendant, just as he had promised.

“I’m sorry”, he said, “but I don’t think you’re friend can spend the night. My superiors will be coming tomorrow morning and they will question me about this.”

“It’s so late”, she protested, “he lives way across the city. How can he go home now?”

“The last train is at 1am. He can easily make it. I can’t let him stay, bottom line. Goodnight!”

At such a point many things could have popped into my head. Would I reach home on time? Would I reach home safe? What if I don’t reach before my hostel main door is locked?

But the only thought that washed those away, obviously, was “My clothes!!!”

I was speechless for a minute, thinking how I would survive in minus ten degrees celsius with shorts. All I had was my underwear (luckily), my shoes and my winter jacket. Quite an interesting situation, don’t you think? There was no option, we raided madam’s cupboard to find some decent-enough clothing, while we cursed the kommendant for his time-keeping. The winners were a long-sleeved t-shirt which looked like something a boy could wear, a dark blue jean pant which only came upto my ankles (looked like a bloody three-fourth denim pant) and a pair of white socks (or should I say mini-socks).

I was aware that I didn’t have time. If I would miss the last train, I would either have to walk home (which would take at least an hour) or I would look like a cross-dressing beggar on the streets of St.Petersburg. Hence, I didn’t protest about the clothing.

All I said as I left was, “See you in church tomorrow”

And all she said was, “Please wear something different”

Yes, the woman had a sense of humour and so did the hundreds of people who walked by me on my way to the underground metro station. I got more attention than the hot girl with a short skirt and high heels standing with a cigarette in her hand by the curb. The train driver, too, noticed me standing at the platform while the train approached. I was so baffled that I thought I heard him say, “The doors are closing. Please be careful. Next stop – Vladimirskaya. What the hell was the guy who entered the train wearing?”

Well, I reached in time at my hostel. Luckily for me, very luckily indeed, there were six more guys in my room including my roommate. They were watching a movie. When I entered, they were in awe. One guy didn’t notice a thing, some were laughing, one of them said, “what kind of socks are those?” and another even said, “Damn, I need to try this.”

The Transition

This is the longest break I have taken from blogging so far. In the past three weeks, I have thought about blogging almost everyday, but didn't have the time, didn't have access to the internet and couldn't find the words, at times. The week between 20th January and 27th January could be described as one of the most crucial I have ever had. I divided my plans into three stages.

Stage 1: Graduation
I finally graduated! I had been waiting for "Graduation Day" for a while, had worked very hard to present my project well. All my effort, all my prayers, all my energy was being utilized. This was something I just had to do, something that I couldn't screw up. If this went wrong, then I wouldn't go to USA for my masters. This was something that was always on my mind.

My thesis was ready, and so was my presentation speech. The only thing that bothered me on the morning of the 22nd of January was the question-answer session that followed my speech.

As I walked onto the podium with a nervous smile, the curator had trouble pronouncing my name. With the cane in my hand and my speech in my head, I began. I was confident and sharp, I paused when necessary and took my time. The speech went well.

I was bombarded with three questions, two of them were expected. The third, I answered out of nowhere. My asnwer came out of the back of my head as a result of the extra research and long hours at the library. I even explained parts of that answer that weren't needed. "Relief" was the first word that came to my mind, "graduate" was the second.

The curator started calling out the results and my name was last. "Ashwin Jadhav, excellent!" said the curator, (A=Excellent, B=Good, C=Satisfactory) then he added "I congratulate you all on behalf of the university and the department upon completion of your undergraduate studies. I hereby pronounce you "graduates". "Phase One complete", I said to myself.

Stage 2: The journey and the beginning

Exactly 12 hours after my graduation, I was sitting at the St.Petersburg International Airport waiting to board my flight to Chicago via Munich. My friends were all with me till the very end. After paying for my excess baggage, I saw the very last exit stamp being put on my russian visa. The flight was delayed due to excessive ice on the wings and tail. But I had to wait in Munich for a couple of hours anyway.

Munich was great! I would place it's airport in the league with Heathrow and Charles De Gaule. Everyone spoke english, I suddenly missed russian.

I slept during the 10 hour flight to Chicago. The flight landed on time and I was excited to meet one of my closest friends. I hadn't seen him for almost 16 months. Since I had to catch the bus to my university from the airport itself, we didn't exit. We enjoyed a burger and a drink accompanied with a lot of catch-up talk. We were so engrossed that I even missed a bus, but that gave me an extra hour with him.

The three hour drive to Champaign was comfortable. I suddenly felt alone. I felt the need to be alert to this new beginning.

My apartment was just how I wanted it to be. The department was just two blocks away. Most of the people I knew were very friendly, very helpful and went an extra mile for me. The next two days were dedicated to registering for classes and making sure I became a certified student of the University of Illinois at Urbana Champaign. Stage two was completed.

Stage 3: The surprise

I was in Champaign, I had graduated, I had settled down. But the one person that deserved to know all of this was kept in the dark by me. Reason: To surprise her. She had planned a lot for me, looked at apartments for me, answered hundreds of questions for me, had been my closest friend for the previous six months. I didn't want her to run around anymore.

She was scheduled to return from Philadelphia four days after my arrival in Champaign. I met her online after she landed and told her to go to the Illini Union on campus if she wanted to receive a surprise left by me. Something told me that I had given away too much, but I had to see her on that day itself.

Late that evening, she entered the Union and walked along the it's longest corridor. As she drew closer, she realized that I was standing at the end. She hugged me and said, "I knew it, I so knew it". Well, she was surprised, she didn't care how or when I got there, just seeing me there made her happy. Later we dove into the details of how much had happened so fast and how I had planned it all.


One of the most important weeks of my life, probably. Everything went well, thankfully.

I'd like to thank the following people:
Rohit for his support and help all the way.
Pragni for her support, help and commitment all the way.
Pallavi, Omkar and Pinky for their company, help and for keeping the surprise a surprise.

Train Check

There are some incidents that take place in life that you can’t easily forget. Some are funny, some are tragic. But they make up your memories none the less. The following happened during the summer of 2006.

I was in India on vacation and had joined private classes for GRE preparation. The classes were far away from home, so I used to take the train. I met this girl at these classes and very soon we became good friends. We had a deal. She would help me out with the Verbal (English) section and I would help her with the Quantitative (Maths) section. We started liking each other. One fine day, she had to change trains at my station. She called me up and warned me that her friends were with her, so I couldn’t go up to her and talk to her because she didn’t want her friends to have any idea. I stood at the platform waiting for her (and the train). When she got off she looked at me and smiled. I so wanted to go up to her, but couldn’t. She was with two girls and a boy. Now, in Mumbai we have separate compartments for men and women. So, this guy (her friend) climbs into the men’s compartment with me. He stood bang opposite me. I even caught him staring at me a couple of times. I wondered, “Is he suspicious? Does he know?” He had no clue, but neither did I as to why he was giving me those looks. After few stops, the girls got off and she was alone in that compartment. She called me up. This got me really blushing. We spoke for around 15 mins till we reached our destination and the guy in front of me, “Mr. Stares-a-lot”, could hear everything I said to her including, “When is he going to get off?” but thankfully he still didn’t catch on. We three got off at the last stop and she warned me on the phone again not to approach her. We decided to meet at some particular junction a bit away from the station. When I got off, I saw both of them talking and while walking past them I brushed my hand past her outstretched hand in the smoothest of ways. When I turned around she glanced at me and smiled again. At this moment, the guy caught her looking at me but didn’t respond. We both met up at the designated place later and laughed about it.

About a week later, her sms woke me up. She had written something about losing her umbrella, her favourite, pink umbrella. Apparently, she had left it in the train and got off. I ignored it and went back to sleep. But about an hour later, she called me up and told me that the train was heading my side and requested me to run to the station and intercept. I did so. My mom was bedazzled to see me get ready so fast and leave the house at that speed. As I exited the door I told her, “I’ll explain later but it’s important.” I normally walk to the station but this time I took a taxi. By the time I reached the train has already passed by. Suddenly mom called up and I explained the “friend losing an umbrella” part to her. Then miss “pink umbrella” calls up to let me know that she is arriving in ten minutes. I went to the station master, asked him to look into the matter and find out when the train will return. The poor little nice guy contacted the CST (final stop) station master and informed me that the train is expected back in twenty minutes. As expected madam arrived and came straight to the station master’s office uttering her first words, “You look cute today”. Now, I knew she was messing around. I had not even showered that morning, my hair was all over the place and I was sweating profusely. Those words got the little guy in my head to laugh “ha-ha-ha-ha-ha” and I said to her, “Can we focus at the problem at hand?” So, the station master and I explained the situation to her. When we both exited the office, I was startled at what I saw.

It was “Mr. Stares-a-lot” looking right at me with a strange “have I seen you before” look and in my head I’m thinking, “You saw me a week back, you jackass, but thanks for not recognizing me even though we stood opposite each other for 30 minutes.” She introduced us, we shook hands. Silence. Nobody uttered a word after that. I knew I didn’t want to speak. So, both of us carried on to the designated platform and waited for the train to come while her friends stood on the opposite platform giving me the strangest of looks once again. Maybe that guy told them something about me, which still remains a mystery.

We didn’t find the umbrella. Someone probably took it. But it was worth a run, for me at least. I wonder if I’ll ever see “Mr. Stares-a-lot” again. I wonder if he’s reading this right now and still doesn’t have a clue that it was him.

Judgement Day

After six sleepless nights in Mumbai, the place I call home, Judgement Day arrived for me. I promised myself in the morning while I was having tea, "No matter what happens today, the first thing I'll do after coming home is write about it on my blog".

I couldn't sleep as usual. After rolling around in my bed for hours, I got frustrated at 6.30 am, so I got up and watched some tv till 8. Got ready and left by 9. I had to go to my accountant first, to collect the revised financial summary. Whenever mom felt that I was nervous, she started some topic and calmed me down in the taxi. At least it took my focus off the subject and reduced my heart-rate. Everything was in order at the accountant's place, we began the taxi ride to the other side of the city. I knew it would take at least an hour, we would reach one hour before the given time and that was exactly how I wanted it to be.

As we pulled over at the consulate, I saw the queue. It stretched along the walls of four buildings. It was long, we had an hour. Just then Rohit called up to check on me. I had received calls from all the people, who I had expected would call, in the past 24 hours. Rohit kept saying, "Don't mention NASA, say that you are coming back, ISRO chalega". My head was a cacophony of panicked voices. We began to move forward slowly. Just then Anurag (forgot his surname) turned to me and asked, "Are you applying for a student visa?"
"Yes", I replied and that sparked a conversation between us. I noticed a girl in front of us constantly turning around and looking at us. She was with her parents. Later she introduced herself to me as Akshata Hegde. I also noticed two girls and a boy standing behind us.

The boy standing behind us joined in the conversation at some point. While we were talking, this guy utters the word "F**K" in front of my mom and Akshata's parents. A voice in my head said, "What did he say? Oh! You have got to be kidding me!" Anurag and myself looked at each other. There was a brief moment of silence after which we never gave that guy a chance to butt into our talks, especially if he was going to say those words.

Anurag, Akshata and myself really hit it off. We started making each other laugh. I felt comfortable around them, comfortable enough to tell them that I'm doing my undergrad from St.Petersburg and will fly directly from there once I'm done. Anurag seemed like the type of guy that you would need around you during a crisis, a guy who knew stuff and wouldn't hold back. Akshata was really sweet, had an amazing smile and would speak her mind. We joked around about how the how they are making a new airport in Mumbai, so the old one can be used for the new consulate considering the queue we were standing in. I can now imagine how many applicants maybe applying every year. Anurag asked me about my views on luck and I told him that it depends. One day luck may play a 50% role, the next day it might be 99%. Akshata liked the answer, "I liked the way you put that", she said, "Very true". Both of them freaked me out every ten minutes about how my case was a unique one, something the visa officer would question me about. Not many people do aerospace engineering from Russia then switch to the USA for masters. I might be the first one ever. But in the next ten minutes, they relieved me in some way or the other. Then, Anurag and me would tease Akshata about how much shopping women have to do and she was probably thinking about what to buy that very moment.

We entered at 12.30 pm, after 90 minutes of baby-steps. After I passed through the security check, they dug up my application forms and handed them over to me. I then went for a fingerprint check and submitted the forms along with my passport and I-20(admission document) at the counter. My token number was 918. All I could do now was wait, alone. Anurag and Akshata were nowhere to be seen. I sat in the first row. There were around 50-60 people sitting, waiting for their number to be called out. At 1.10, I heard 918 and headed for window number 17. I saw Anurag and Akshata standing in a line as I walked past them. Akshata waved at me, but I was too late to react to her thumbs up. She turned away.

I was second in my line. The visa officer was a female in her mid 30s maybe. I had a broad smile on my face. Everyone who knows me, knows that I am a ladies' man. The guy in front of me entered and was asked to show quite a few documents. He was rejected!!!! My heart-rate, my pulse-rate, my blood pressure, maybe even my sugar-level increased. As I opened the door, the lady asked me, "Is that a child over there?"
"Yes", I answered hoping that she would grant me the visa for my correct answer.
"Can you please send her in before you if you don't mind?" she requested me.
I instructed the girl and her mother to enter ahead of me. They were done in about thirty seconds. In those thirty seconds, I tried to say every prayer possible. I mixed up the verses of one prayer, didn't realise where I started it or where it should end, I just kept saying some verse.
After they were done I entered.
"Good Afternoon"
"Good Afternoon Ma'am. How are you?"
"I'm fine. So, why are you applying to the USA?"
"I'm applying for a student visa to the University of Illinois at Urbana Champaign"
I'll never forget the reaction she gave me to that. When I said the university's name, she gave me a "can't reject you" look.
"Which other universities had you applied to?" she asked.
"Illinois Institute of Technology and Penn State University."
"Eleven? Did you say eleven?" she asked in a higher volume.
"No, ma'am, I said Illinois"
"Who will be funding you're education?" was her next.
"My family members" was my vague answer.
"What do they do?"
At this point, I was actually wondering how many family members I have.
"My father has his business and my mom's a housewife. But, we have some retirement money kept aside for my education. That's what we'll be using"
That was exactly what she wanted to hear.
"OK. Here you go", she handed over my I-20 back to me. "Your passport will be couriered to you."

I exited with a smile, realizing that I had achieved something that took me two years on the whole, right from the start to my TOEFL preparation in 2006. I hugged mom, called up most of the important people in my life. I looked for Akshata and Anurag, but couldn't find either. Luckily, I met Anurag further down the road and we exchanged experiences. All three of us had got the visa.

It's amazing how two strangers you meet can have an impact on your mood, on your state of mind, especially at testing times such as these. I wouldn't want any other two people in place of them at that moment. Everything seemed balanced, everything seemed chaotic, everything turned out just the way we wanted it.

Phone-a-friend

The following conversations took place in the last few weeks :

Friend 1: Ashwin Jadhav, when are you coming here (India)?
Me: Soon.
Friend 1: That’s what I’ve been hearing for the past 4 months.
Me: Oh. Then, sooner than that.

Friend 2: Hey, come to India soon so that you can ask me out.
Me: Why bother? You will say ‘no’.
Friend 2: At least get your ass here so that I can say ‘no’ to your face.

Friend 3: When are you planning to come here (another country)?
Me: Maybe around the 1st or 2nd week of *******.
Friend 3: Ashwin, if you come here and not talk to me or ignore me….?
Me: Then…then what?
Friend 3: … I’ll hit you!

Friend 4: When are you finishing?
Me: Soon.
Friend 4: Are you doing a project for your Bachelors or your PhD? Why is this taking so long?
Me: The project’s complicated dude. It involves a lot research and it’s rarely used in today’s aircrafts.
Friend 4: If you screw it up this time, I’ll find a job, just so that I could fly to St.Petersburg and kick your ass.

Friend 5: Good Morning. How are you? Hope to see you here next week.
Me: I’m good. How are you doing? Next week? No ways!
Friend 5: Bitch! You better tell me when you are coming for sure right now.

People are so 'nice' now-a-days. Just a simple "I miss you" would have been enough.