rediff.com: Vivek Ojha

Vivek Ojha

The villain buzzes. I rub my eyes and look at the clock. It is 5:30am.
I hate getting up this early. Covering my face with the pillow I try to sleep a little more. But sleep has left my eyes.
I stretch, get up. My two roommates are lost to the world. My whole body is aching after another night on the floor. I find my way out of the king-sized quilt and head for the bathroom.
It is now a week since I landed in the United States of America. I am here for an IT project, on which eight other people are working.
Four of them used to share this two-bedroom furnished apartment before I joined them. All of us have to be at work at 8:00am. Which means someone has to get up early so that the bathroom does not become a bone of contention.
Thirty minutes later, I finish my toilette and wake up Sanjay. It is his turn now. While ironing my shirt, I recall I have opened my tie-knot last evening. I always have to struggle to tie my tie properly, which makes me something of a joke among my colleagues.
I make a cup of tea and move to the balcony. This is my favourite time of the day. It is a beautiful summer morning. An orange sun is rising. Love birds chirp. They remind me of the cuckoo that used to sing on the mango tree near my home in India.
I soon feel warm. The sun has risen further in the clear blue sky. I enter the drawing room where Rahul is listening to Bruce Springstein's Born in the USA at full blast. He just loves the song. I pull his leg daily about it, aware as I am of the fact that he was born in Agra.
Rahul has been in the US for two years now. What I like about him is he knows his mind. He asserts openly that he is not going back to India. Unlike many young Indians here, he has made his choice and will stick by it.
It is getting late and I have to finish my breakfast quickly. I swallow a sandwich hastily with fresh (just seven days old) natural orange juice. My mates are ready. We head for the parking area.
Rahul has purchased a new Honda Accord just yesterday. He proudly tells us about its features: plenty of space, good mileage, excellent CD player.... Impassive, I put on the seatbelt and we moved out.
On the way to my cubicle in office, I encounter more Indians than Americans. It is common to have 50 to 70 per cent of the work force Indian in IT companies here, Sanjay told me once. "Good for India," he added.
I wonder.
Harry, my cubicle neighbour, is discussing with somebody the latest NASDAQ crash and the future of the company's shares. I check my mails and surf through a couple of Indian news sites quickly. There is nothing new: Kashmir, political tiffs everywhere, and India's debacle in sports.
I take a deep breath and start looking at the latest design documents for our product. It has changed nine times in the last six months.
Soon it is 5:00pm. Most of my colleagues have left. I call Rahul. He says he will be late to leave. My other roommates are already gone. As I have a nagging headache after a daylong, fruitless meeting, I decide to take a cab home.
I enter the apartment and see Sanjay talking to his girlfriend in India on the phone. Jagan is asking him in sign language when he will finish his call, as he, Jagan, wants to talk to his family in Hyderabad. This is common in our apartment. Maybe a second telephone line is worth considering.
In the kitchen, I find Sunil peeling potatoes. He asks me to put on the rice, which I promptly do.
After dinner, I decide to sleep, as I have to get up early. Rahul is discussing his green card processing with his family in India. He plans to get them to USA, though his parents are reluctant to settle down here.
I think of the few old Indian couples living with their children in our apartment complex... taking short walks in the morning, trapped between the extremes of East and West. Is it a good idea?
I set the alarm, lie down and close my eyes, gearing up for yet another day.

Vivek Ojha is back where he belongs: in India.
Illustration: Lynette Menezes

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	The villain buzzes. I rub my eyes and look at the clock. It is 5:30am. I hate getting up this early. Covering my face with the pillow I try to sleep a little more. But sleep has left my eyes. I stretch, get up. My two roommates are lost to the world. My whole body is aching after another night on the floor. I find my way out of the king-sized quilt and head for the bathroom. It is now a week since I landed in the United States of America. I am here for an IT project, on which eight other people are working. Four of them used to share this two-bedroom furnished apartment before I joined them. All of us have to be at work at 8:00am. Which means someone has to get up early so that the bathroom does not become a bone of contention. Thirty minutes later, I finish my toilette and wake up Sanjay. It is his turn now. While ironing my shirt, I recall I have opened my tie-knot last evening. I always have to struggle to tie my tie properly, which makes me something of a joke among my colleagues. I make a cup of tea and move to the balcony. This is my favourite time of the day. It is a beautiful summer morning. An orange sun is rising. Love birds chirp. They remind me of the cuckoo that used to sing on the mango tree near my home in India. I soon feel warm. The sun has risen further in the clear blue sky. I enter the drawing room where Rahul is listening to Bruce Springstein's Born in the USA at full blast. He just loves the song. I pull his leg daily about it, aware as I am of the fact that he was born in Agra. Rahul has been in the US for two years now. What I like about him is he knows his mind. He asserts openly that he is not going back to India. Unlike many young Indians here, he has made his choice and will stick by it. It is getting late and I have to finish my breakfast quickly. I swallow a sandwich hastily with fresh (just seven days old) natural orange juice. My mates are ready. We head for the parking area. Rahul has purchased a new Honda Accord just yesterday. He proudly tells us about its features: plenty of space, good mileage, excellent CD player.... Impassive, I put on the seatbelt and we moved out. On the way to my cubicle in office, I encounter more Indians than Americans. It is common to have 50 to 70 per cent of the work force Indian in IT companies here, Sanjay told me once. "Good for India," he added. I wonder. Harry, my cubicle neighbour, is discussing with somebody the latest NASDAQ crash and the future of the company's shares. I check my mails and surf through a couple of Indian news sites quickly. There is nothing new: Kashmir, political tiffs everywhere, and India's debacle in sports. I take a deep breath and start looking at the latest design documents for our product. It has changed nine times in the last six months. Soon it is 5:00pm. Most of my colleagues have left. I call Rahul. He says he will be late to leave. My other roommates are already gone. As I have a nagging headache after a daylong, fruitless meeting, I decide to take a cab home. I enter the apartment and see Sanjay talking to his girlfriend in India on the phone. Jagan is asking him in sign language when he will finish his call, as he, Jagan, wants to talk to his family in Hyderabad. This is common in our apartment. Maybe a second telephone line is worth considering. In the kitchen, I find Sunil peeling potatoes. He asks me to put on the rice, which I promptly do. After dinner, I decide to sleep, as I have to get up early. Rahul is discussing his green card processing with his family in India. He plans to get them to USA, though his parents are reluctant to settle down here. I think of the few old Indian couples living with their children in our apartment complex... taking short walks in the morning, trapped between the extremes of East and West. Is it a good idea? I set the alarm, lie down and close my eyes, gearing up for yet another day. Vivek Ojha is back where he belongs: in India. Illustration: Lynette Menezes Tell us what you think of this diary Be part of an exciting venture! Write a Diary!
HOME \| NEWS \| CRICKET \| MONEY \| SPORTS \| MOVIES \| CHAT \| BROADBAND \| TRAVEL ASTROLOGY \| NEWSLINKS \| BOOK SHOP \| MUSIC SHOP \| GIFT SHOP \| HOTEL BOOKINGS AIR/RAIL \| WEDDING \| ROMANCE \| WEATHER \| WOMEN \| E-CARDS \| SEARCH HOMEPAGES \| FREE MESSENGER \| FREE EMAIL \| CONTESTS \| FEEDBACK