Texas Diaries 2: Inglorious Basterds

Anyone who has lived in the US knows the kind of importance that is given to cleanliness and maintenance of apartments by the owners. There are inspections in which you are expected to present your apartment in the best possible way. Also, according to the Heisenberg's uncertainty principle, it is impossible to keep your apartment clean at all times. So this one time, all of us put in our best efforts to clean up the apartment and did a decent job - but for the cockroaches. We didn't know what to do about them. So we called for the pest control guys who are employed by the owners. 

Five days had passed since the clean up and the apartment was coming back to it's original form. That was the day there was a heavy knock on the door. I opened the door and found a tall burly man with his equipment. "Pest Control," he said in a voice that would have scared all the pests if they had ears. He was a born Texan, which I could tell from his strong southern accent. He walked inside and began to prepare the pest bait. I found the syringe-paste he used interesting and asked him, "So you put these baits and when cockroaches eat them, they die?". 

He looked at me and in a heavy southern accent said, "They're gonna die". The moment he said this, there was a spark in my brain. I could feel it. I realized this man was said the exact same words Lieutenant Aldo Raine, played by Brad Pitt says about Nazis in Inglorious Basterds. There was so much similarity in their voice that if you closed eyes, you would believe that Aldo Raine was standing in front of you. It was the exact same voice. I kept wondering as he quickly got to work and finished his job over the next few minutes.

This is where I didn't keep quiet and the impulsive conversationalist in me was at work already. 

"What is your name, sir?" I asked. 

"My name is X," he said. 

"Do you watch movies?"

"Yeah, I do. But not too many," he said. 

"Did you watch Inglorious Basterds?" I asked. 

"No...I didn't" he said. 

"Do you know Brad Pitt?" I asked. 

"Yeah, of course," he said. 

"When you said "They're gonna die", you exactly sounded like Brad Pitt in Inglorious Basterds," I said. 

"Wow? Really?" he said as he began to blush with happiness. 

"Yes of course you do. I cannot find a reason to tell your voice was different from his. You sound exactly like him," I said. 

"Thank you, that's so nice to hear," he said and looked evidently delighted. 

A casual chatter followed before he left. He seemed very happy with the compliment he had received and he left with that I-sound-like-Brad-Pitt-yay! smile. But I was wrong. The next day, they sent an inspection squad to our apartment because this gentleman had mentioned to the authorities that our apartment was not clean. One of his responsibilities was to report apartments that are not maintained clean. He did his job. Brad Pitt equalization and flattery doesn't work. Welcome to America. 

Texas Diaries - 1

One fine day in December 2012, I decided not to take shit anymore. And thus began the only process I have meticulously followed in my life of 30 years.

An MBA. Almost 8 years of Corporate experience. Set married life. 3 year old beautiful daughter. Retired father. Working mother. Almost permanent, set job. Salary was good enough to fund all sorts of vagabondage. But somewhere in my heart, a voice kept telling me that I wasn’t doing what’s best for me. One day, that voice was so loud that it spoke through my lips. I told my mother,
“Aai, mee America la zato” (Mom, I will go to the US).

I was sure that with my kind of experience and educational background, a second MBA would be the best option. But I had made the mistake of MBA once already. I had taken the GRE earlier that year. I took the scorecard out of the cupboard that day and said to myself, “Let the dance begin”. After a lot of research and self-assessment, I narrowed it down to the stream I would like to specialize in. This time, it was not by instinct. I did not allow any “your-communication-skills-are-good-you-should-do-an-MBA” type of street-wizardry to impact my plans.  Once the academic program was finalized, it was time for the process.

TOEFL, Recommendation letters, SoP, transcripts, application, fees, so on and so forth. This is an extremely tedious process if you are working 6 days a week, 14 hours per day. But finally, I was able to successfully apply to three universities. Two of which admitted me. One didn’t finalize the admission because the transcripts provided by Osmania University had poor quality prints and my marks were not legible on the memo. Thanks, OU. I love you.

Once the admissions are in, the next step was education loan. However, the organization which rejected my application for an education loan citing the lamest excuse “You won’t get student visa at this age”, here is my digitus medius. Screw you. I am in Texas now.

The visa. Having spent almost about one lakh fifty thousand rupees on the process, there is still no guarantee that I would make it. And the probability, was always 0.5. On 15^th May 2013, when the happy faced visa officer approved my visa after asking basic questions, tears rolled out of my eyes like it was a bride’s farewell. Stomach ached. A 10 year old unthinkable dream was being fulfilled. I didn’t just walk out of the consulate with a heavy stomach and tears of immense joy; I walked into a new future.

The fun part is, I got my visa on 15^th May 2013 and I was scheduled to leave on 22^nd May 2013. Just 6 days in between. Given the way my luck was running, I hadn’t done any shopping whatsoever. I had refrained from even buying those large luggage bags, leave alone clothes and other things.  On 22^nd May, I finally boarded my first international flight.

After coming to the US, things slowly began to settle down. It has been almost 3 months now. In December 2012, all I had was an idea of a better life and an enhanced career. At the age of 30, I left behind my kid, wife, mother, father, friends, job, financial freedom, a set life and a lot else.

Another of my biggest worries was how I would fare in academics after a dreadful gap of almost 8 years. How will a body and mind that is so used to sybaritic indulgences get used to the rigor and discipline that a Master’s program demands?  And my past academic record being the least impressive thing on my CV, I had my own fears. I was in no shape or form to do this. All I had was a desire. But today, I got the final result of one course in my first semester. I made an A-grade. That is 90% plus. Guess that settles it.

Although this is just the beginning and there is a long way to go, the sense of satisfaction is unparalleled.  

- Deepak Karamungikar