Caneda wali aunty: Gautum

2:30 am IST, 18th August 2013. While India trips are tiring because of long flight times, unreasonable layovers in different cities and completely opposite time zones, every NRI looks forward to them. Its like homecoming and could be compared to Lord Rama's return to Ayodhya after 14 years of kingdom banishment. Even though I was back in India in less than 5 months this time around, it felt like I had been away for eternity. For past five years the time spent away from home, be it five months or two years it has felt the same. The view from the airplane of Delhi in early wee hours of morning is gorgeous to say the least. Even though the city sleeps but there is light emanating from every corner of the city. The vibrancy of those city lights fills your tired body and battered soul with fresh energy.

As the plane touches down, I have my checklist of things to do ready. I need to rush to a restroom as Dubai airport did not allow me to visit one. Its strange and magically co-incidental as to how the water supply in one of the most visited airports can shut off at the time you arrive and that in two of the three male restrooms on that terminal. And of course you do not get ideas that you can always go into a female restrooms given that there are burqas available on sale in the same terminal. Apart from the call of nature, I need to prepare for a 45-60 minutes session of uncomfortable and routine questions asked by the immigration officer. Again its strange and funny, if a criminal who is wanted in India and is back in India by spending his own money, is not allow him to enter without fuss and extensive questioning. Add to it I have to wait for about 30-45 minutes to collect my check-in bag over the conveyer belt. I still could not give a logical reason as to why I checked-in a bag given that I did not do any shopping for my folks and family this time around. On top of that I need to rush home in order to get some rest before being paraded in front of people and a girl for a matrimonial proposal for the umpteenth time. The time needs to be cut somewhere in order to reach home early. I can bear the call of nature. So I dash towards the immigration counter.

Among many nice things about terminal three in Delhi's internal airport like cleanliness, systematic signs, the best thing is that it is not huge. You can walk around everywhere but not feel tired. The airport terminals in USA, especially the one in Detroit, are stretched over acres and if you do not take trames within the terminal, chances are likely that you will either miss your flight or tire yourself completely. I show urgency and I am able to scoot through hoards of first class and business class people of my flight. I hate them for I can barely afford to travel in economy and they always get to travel mostly in first and business class. I am third in the line at the immigration desk quietly smiling at the folks who are aggregating behind me. "You are a nerd you know that. You do this intensionally or is this by mistake? You know you will be asked questions and made to wait for 45-60 minutes on the immigration desk. Maybe this time they will take you to a detention cell and interrogate you like SRK was in My Name Is Khan".  Why keep these people behind you waiting in early wee hours? BC, MC", remarks my inner voice. My inner voice managed to make it way to India as well and has just woken up into its Delhi incarnation. "Well, see who is sounding nice here? You know I need to get home early. I need to rest myself and more importantly you so that you are not crabby in front of those nicer folks I am going to meet today", I try to put up a rational and brave face even though I mostly knew what is the outcome of meeting today morning.

The immigration office calls me, looks at my passport and swipes it across a bar-code reader. Upon seeing the information displayed on the screen, I see wrinkles on his forehead and his eyebrows tighten up. "Here we go again. Their stupid system cannot differentiate between a genuine Gautum Gupta and a rogue Gautum Gupta. So much for the e-commerce revolution in India. What has NIC done all these years if they cannot resolve simple issues like that?", remarks the inner voice.  My inner voice was sounding remarkably nice and logical today. But it was right. Past few visits back to India I have had to face routine questions for establishing my identity as there are far too many Gautum Guptas in India now. And even though I am innocent, the immigration office tend to ask such questions as a part of their duty. "My name is Gatum Gupta and I am not your culprit", I sometimes feel I should modify the dialogue "My name is Khan and I am not a terrorist" from the movie My name is Khan. I am all for providing information to them as long as it does not take an hours time. The immigration officer starts to ask a few more questions regarding my home address, my occupation in USA and so on. I felt like giving him a printout of my bio-data from the matrimonial website where my mother is hunting for a suitable bride for me.

"You are good to go", remarks the immigration officer. "But its been only 10 minutes, Sir. Trust me Sir, he is your man. Put him behind bars. This is your only chance.", my inner voice is surprised at my being relieved so soon by the immigration officer. I thank the immigration officer and proceed towards the baggage claim counter. My bag arrives shortly. I pass through the green channel and an officer asks me to pass the bags though the X-ray machines. "He's got nothing, Sir. Kadka hai", my inner voice is trying to explain my financial situation to the custom officer. I successfully have passed though all the hurdles and I am into the wild world of Delhi where I need to be smart and agile, among the sea of people where I am a mere drop, surrounded by the love and compassion of people that I long for in US, into the daily challenges which do not exist in US and back to life that I do not understand why I left behind. That's what the India trip is all about for me.

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4:00 am IST, 18th August 2013. The radio taxi is breezing across Delhi. For a moment, I feel like telling the driver that please slow down. But I decide against that. "Let's reach home early, eat something and then sleep well. If things do not work our this time as well, then maybe you can work from home this week", my inner voice keeps taking my mind back to the actual motif of the visit. Shortly, after 20 minutes I am home. It seems to have rained because the potholes in the road in front of my house are filled with water. There is also that sweet smell of rain in the air that I miss in San Jose. Ma and Pa show up on the gate of the house upon hearing the sound of a radio taxi getting pulled up in the road segment in front of our house. I pay up the taxi driver and get out of the taxi to touch their feet. My time away from home had certainly taught me the value of blessings of parents and elders. Even though I did not touch my parents feet earlier, I began to do that recently. I realize how much their blessings matter than everybody else. Ma tries to hug me. Her hands can barely reach out to my neck and I have to droop down and hug her. Its ironic how as I small child when I wanted to hug her and she lifted me in her arms and kissed my face and how now I have to droop so that she can reach my face. Pa just pats my back.

I drag my bags and place them in the central courtyard on the ground floor. I take off my shoes and go to see Baba. He is asleep so Pa wakes him up. I touch his feet and he blesses me back and asks me again "Tu aa gaya Monu. Khush raho....  Tu Banglore kab aaye ga? Ab to teri tarraki bhi ho gayi". As if he is still waiting for my answer since a left in March this year. I do not have an answer to his question. "Jaldi Baba", I try to bluff the truth in the lie I told him. Baba does not show any response. He is not wearing his hearing aid. My father helps him lie down again. I go into my Dadi's room. She is awake and looking effervescent as always. I touch her feet and she pulls my forehead close to her lips and kisses it gently. I want to wean away because of her susceptibility to germs on me but I let her kiss me. The warmth of some relations never wither away. "Take a kiss from where you get one, dude. You do not have hopes of getting a romantic one.", remarks my inner voice. "Tasli karke haan bolna", remarks Dadi. "Ji..", I acknowledge her back.  I say goodbye to Dadi and move bag to the courtyard to get my bags. Chachi is also awake now and she in the courtyard. I touch her feet. I take my bags upstairs into our set of rooms.

Ma gives me paratha, warm milk and mithis. "These have come from the house of your would-be in-laws. We have been eating so much sweets and mithis in past few months. Every time they visit us, they bring us something.", says Ma. I do not fight back on the 'in-laws' remarks. "There are besan ke ladoos also, if you want to try", Ma offers some of the sweets to me. I do not say no to sweets so I happy to have two of them. "Gorge on, they will not make any difference to your figure now", remarks my inner voice yet again.  Ma, Pa and Chachi are also sitting around me with their eyes pinned on me. I try to start some conversation which is unrelated to today's meeting with Pooja and her family but some how we end up discussing the today's meeting again. "Did you see her photo I sent you on Friday?", Pa inquires. "Which one? I haven't checked my gmail account in past few days", I try to act innocent to change the topic away from Pooja. "We cannot find a more suitable girl for you. She is tall, beautiful and well educated and is more than equal to you in every measure. And her family is like ours.", Ma tries to put the final nail in the coffin. "Sleep well, Beta", says Chachi as she leaves the room. "God, why is everybody so hell bent at this proposal only. Why is it that I do not want to think about it and somehow it just keeps coming back?", I am puzzled and surprised to see everyone's interest in Pooja and her family for our eventual marriage. I knew that everyone was interested but I did not knew that their level of interest was so high. "I did not see Tauji. Where is he? Maybe he will talk something else with me.", I am thinking of somehow diverting my mind somewhere else.

Its 5:30 am in the morning. "Get some sleep now. We will wake you at 7:30 am. We need to leave by 8:15 am", orders Pa now. I am not sleepy anymore and I want to talk to Ma and Pa. Seeing your family is therapeutic and relaxing in ways that the mind does not recognize. I go into my parents bedroom and try to sleep on Ma's side of the bed. She does not use mattress for health reasons. I cannot sleep but keep tossing around. "Maybe its the hard bed underneath", I think of a reason of not falling asleep. When Pa is done with his meditation later in morning I move to his side of the bed (which has mattress). I still cannot sleep. I again kept tossing around for no good reason.I try thinking of the my flights on way to Delhi. I try to think about the lady who was with me in the cab on our way to the airport and with whom I  spoke again on Dubai airport, whether she has reached Ahmedabad. I try to think if males in UAE are even allowed to buy burqas for their girlfriends and wives.  I try to think about my next trip to India. I try to think about the snide remarks of people in office after I get back. "It's the proposal that is going on in your mind, man", my inner voice cries out loud. I try to block all that was going on in mind with regards to my meeting today. But I cannot sleep. Finally its 7:30 am. "Get up its time", announces Pa. I have only managed to rest my eyes. My mind is still weary and tired.

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8:00 am IST, 18th August 2013. "Put on the purple one. This looks good.", remarks Papa with zest and humor as he chooses a T-shirt to be worn for the meeting. I am standing in a vest and a pair of jeans in front of Ma, Pa and Chachi. We are trying to decide which T-shirt among the four bought by Ma and Chachi is suitable for the occasion today morning. "Its a little loose but is fresh and looking good on you", adds Ma. I wear the white-purple T-shirt with numerous horizontal lines. I am too old for fashionable T-shirts now. I normally prefer single shades of dark T-shirts. But its good to wear a fashionable one once in a while.

I finally see Tauji. He is all dressed up for the clinic. But isn't 8:00 am too early and today is Sunday. He does not work on Sundays. Is he also coming along with us? "Ma, who all are going? Are Chachi and Tauji also coming with us?", I enquire from Ma. "Yes, if three of us go then it will not be auspicious. They are also coming with us", answers Ma. This superstition of hers did not come as a surprise as she had been feeding cows with chapatis over last one month on my behalf. I greet Tauji and touch his feet. He is happy to see me and he embraces me like his own son. I go downstairs and seek my Baba's blessings. He tells me to ask Pooja if she can cook and mingle well with us. Dadi tells me about Narela connection of Pooja's family. Office meetings are easier to handle. At least an hour before an office meeting there is no discussion with regards to what will happen in the meeting.

Pa is driving and I am seated next to him. The meeting is supposed to happen in a restaurant in India Habitat Center. Pa had shared photographs of the place on email saying that Pooja and her family had visited the place and chosen it for our meeting. So five of us are on our way for the meeting. The usual discussion about my brother and my sister in US ensues. I ask Chachi when is Divya is planning to come for winter vacation and why is Saurabh so lazy at booking his tickets. Delhi is crowded as hell on Sunday as well and it seems like we will be late for the meeting. Though I hate being late for any chore in daily life, I was happy that I have sometime to mentally prepare myself. "Do not crack silly jokes or take potshots at anyone. Maintain a smile always. Don't get crabby at anything. Ask if she can cook....", my inner voice was giving me a checklist of things to keep in mind. "Enough.. dude. I know.", I give an irritated shrug towards my inner voice.  So as we enter the gates of the venue of my meeting, I am still not going into the meeting with a clear mind.

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"Touch his feet when he gets near", my Tauji advices as Pooja's father approaches us to welcome us to the venue. We are late as always but it seems he is okay and there is no expression of annoyance on his face. "I am not going to touch any stranger's feet even if I barely know them. Of course people whom I respect are exceptions", I have a secret pact with myself. Even though I nod my head in acknowledgement to Tauji's advice, I shake hands with Pooja's father. He takes five of us to the restaurant where we meet Pooja's mother, Pooja and her brother Rishab. Both Pooja and Rishab are seeking blessings from my elders by touching their feet and I fold my hands in namaste to Pooja's mother. "That is embarrassing enough. Should I attempt to touch the feet of Pooja's parents now?", I thought to myself. Well again the moment had pasted. There are quite a few people present in the restaurant. Pooja's parents have booked a big table near the bar in the restaurant. So as are taking our seats almost everyone else in the restaurant knows the purpose behind two families having breakfast together.

I am seated right across Pooja on the dining table with her family on one side and my family on the other side of the table. She is flanked with her brother and father on either side. As mush as I knew the outcome of the meeting, I still want to look at Pooja. After having spoken to her, spoken to her parents, spoken to her brother, meeting her father's friend in San Jose and flying all the way from San Jose to Delhi, I can at least look at her and see how she looks. Inner arguments aside, there is a strong dilemma if I should look at her. Its embarrassing enough to check-out a girl with a direct view and the situation of her brother and father sitting by her demands chivalry on ones part. But from a few glances here and there I am able to catch few glimpses of her. She is dressed in a blue salwar suit the kurta of which is sleeveless. She has left her beautiful and long black hair which are left un-tide. I cannot see her face as it is hiding behind those long hair and she is looking down. Finally as she looked up towards her father I saw that she is beautiful. She has beautiful eyes and her face is one of the fairest ones I have ever seen. Needless to say, she is more beautiful than her photographs which Pa had sent to me by email.

The breakfast that is being served is American which comprises of muffins, cakes and fruit juice. Pooja's mother is serving my parents and me. I personally never like the idea of girl's parents going out of their way to woo or impress a boy's family. Marriage and arrange marriages especially happen because of the interest of two families. One family should not take the burden of impressing the other family. In India such is the state of affairs where a girl's family goes though such experiences. I can understand Pooja's parents plight. I sitting quietly trying to think what am I going to say as I am hearing Pa talk to Pooja's father. Pooja is also talking to Pa about her London visit and other general things. I could see Pooja's father concern on me being so quiet and reserved. As I am trying to eat the muffin in my plate, Pooja's father asks me "Beta, how was your flight?". "Ji, it was good. 20 hours end-to-end is not bad. The flight from San Francisco to Dubai was 16 hours. The flight from Dubai to Delhi took about 2 hours 30 minutes", as I give some details regarding my travel. Pooja's mother asks me if I like the breakfast. "Well its American. I did not expect to get American breakfast first up in India", I reply to her to sound funny. "Dude, that is rude. You sarcastic bastard.", my inner voice castigates me. That did not come out well and it probably did not go well with the people seating around me.

My father is asking Pooja about her London travel. She is telling him about how sikhs brag about their relatives settled in London and Canada. "Hamare Caneda wale uncle aur aunty. Hamare Caneda main do makaan hain", she says as she tries to imitate the  typical Punjabi accent. I find it funny because there was a sikh couple sitting right behind her. But she is oblivious to their presence and she is funnily castigating this bragging nature of sikhs. My family find her amusing and they laugh at her joke on sikhs while I am looking around as if to convey to the sikh couple, who by now are looking at Pooja, that I am not a part of this get together. Meanwhile, Pooja's mother serves me a sandwich with jam inside it which tastes very sweet and not to my liking.

"Why don't you take Gautum around, Pooja?", as Pooja's father tells us to spend some time by ourselves. "They have to decide now" , remarks my mother as she seconds what Pooja's father just said. We both get up and leave towards the garden in front of the restaurant. "I am sorry, I cannot speak in front of unfamiliar people immediately. Your father seem to be getting a little annoyed at my silence.", I tell Pooja as we step onto the stone walkway leading into the garden. "Its not a problem", replies Pooja with a gentle smile. She motions to take me to the adjoining amphitheater. Its hot and humid today in Delhi and there is a heavy cloud cover in sky with a little bit of sunshine.

"I love theater and plays. There are a lot of good plays enacted and staged here. Remember, Rang-de-Bansati? There were a few scenes in that movie that were shot here. ", as Pooja tries to strike a meaningful conversation in middle of our discussion of weather in Delhi and San Jose. "That's a common ground. She loves plays and theater", remarks my inner voice. "I do not remember Rand-de-Basanti so I cannot say if this is the same amphitheater.  But yes, San Francisco also stages good musicals. I love the choreography and proses of the poems. It feels pure magic at times.", as I try to convey to her that I am also interested in theater.

"You want to sit somewhere?", I ask Pooja as we are looking around the amphitheater. There is a bunch of college students who making their way through the amphitheater. I was also like them five years ago. Five years which seemed a very long time ago. Frankly speaking that is the only memory of Delhi left in my mind now. For a brief moment felt as if Delhi had grown older while I was still 5 years behind in time. For a brief moment it felt that Delhi had left me behind or I let Delhi drift away. "Let's stand here", remarks Pooja as she leans against a wall that is her waist high. A few leaves of the plants kept behind her try to get into her long beautiful tresses. "How was your London trip?", I ask her to try to start another conversation. "It was good", replies Pooja. Pooja provides some details that she loved the street names and how the street names in London matched the ones in India, that she loved walking in the gardens in evening and that she saw some theaters and loved their pristine architecture. "Did you meet the new prince?", I ask her something I had written to her in one of my emails. She smiled a bit and said how could she meet someone from the royal family.

"Do you have any questions for me? Like about your job or career opportunities in San Jose. I know you will have to leave your job in order to come to US after marriage", I ask her as career for anyone is important and getting a job in USA as a spouse is not easy. "Gautum, I am not a girl who is obsessed with career. I try to be happy with what I have and I will find something that will keep me busy.", Pooja replies with a very clear mind. "Ins't she career oriented. As in, doesn't her job matter to her", I thought for a moment. "Do you have any other questions for me?", I ask her again. "Not that I can think of right now", replies Pooja. "Well, when you were harping about Caneda wali aunty and all, there was a sikh couple overhearing you. They were seated right behind you.", as I tell Pooja about her funny potshot at sikhs settled in Canada and London earlier in the restaurant to sound funny myself. "I am not afraid of anyone", Pooja replies with an uncomfortable tone which meant that my funny remark embarrassed her. "Do you want to go inside, maybe towards the reception? It is very hot and humid today", remarks Pooja. Her cheeks were turing read and she was beginning to sweat.

"What was your research paper about?", I ask Pooja about the research paper that she had presented while her visit to London. "It was about year end performance analysis of employees and how does it effect them. We did some survey and collected data on year end performance reviews. I contributed with some regression analysis on the collected data" , Pooja explains to me succinct and clear manner on the objective and content of the research paper. "I was rated average this time when I was supposed to be rated outstanding in my year-end performance review even though I was rated outstanding in four out of my seven performance goals in this year.", as I try to share my grievance regarding my performance analysis at work which had given me a few sleepless nights. "Why?", Pooja enquires back. "I was promoted this year so my manager said I needed to be put among the average population", as I try to express my displeasure of what had happened few weeks earlier in office. "It happens. I may also get a promotion next year", remarks Pooja as she expressed her indifference towards my grievance,  I could sense that she did like the idea of discussing the performance analysis at work. I see a few sniggering faces of people, who knew that a boy and a girl were meeting for arranged marriage,  in the varendah outside the American restaurant as we were making our way back to our families. "You ruined it dude. She is looking so uncomfortable", remarked my inner voice as both of us were entering into the restaurant. As we took our seats next to our families, my mother remarked "Pooja beta, you look so flushed? Are you feeling hot in this weather?". "Yes, aunty. its very humid outside", replies Pooja. "We cannot live without air-conditioners in this weather", my mother tries to talk more to her sensing that things did not go well when Pooja and me talked in alone. I myself had a blank face which was sweating now.

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Will he be my friend: Pooja

“May I speak with Pooja” it was Saturday noon, some unknown international number flashed and voice on other side of my phone was taking permissions from me. As if I am class teacher of 5th standard kid- “Yes you can come in classroom and don’t be late from next time.” So I got back to my normal self saying “Ya speaking, who’s this?”. Please tell me if he is calling me on my land-line number or my office phone, I hope he knows concept of mobile phones. Wait on gal, he’s trying to be chivalrous again. Okay. Good for you, more to go.

I know Gautum is calling as time was fixed. But I tried to be extra smart to let him introduce himself.  "Its Gautam. We had an appointment to speak over phone regarding our matrimonial proposal. Did I disturb you?" pat comes the reply. (did he sensed that I was sleeping and is least interested in pursuing, good for him :) )

“No problem, we can talk” I replied. So I dozed off some 30 minutes back thinking would just wake up on the stipulated time. But as usual I was sleeping and this rare-to-find polite Indian-American guy has woken me up from my weekend slumber.

Anyhow I was waiting if he’d say something. As there was an awkward pause. I was just going to open my mouth then comes question on my well-being and how was my week.We exchanged replies on same. I gauged there is not much talking expected from his side. So I started with some small talks to make him at ease.

Honestly I haven’t gone through his bio-data in detail. Just happen to know that he has done his masters from States and working somewhere, don’t know that as well.

Doesn't matter, I’ll ask him now. I am sure he must have zeroed in on my profile. Boys I tell you. After exchange of our education background, I wanted to make one thing very clear to this Indian-American guy “I want to make one thing very much clear before we start anything- I am bit Hindustani at heart, I love my desh. Won’t be able to settle outside my country. I want to take this talk further only if that works with you” I can not imagine myself living in a country where my family ain't there. Very firmly I make across my point. To which he replied in affirmation and how past few years have been difficult for him as well.

Then the usual discussion started on likes/ dislikes. He likes hindi movies, works for me as well.  

He is a Gym freak, to which he was giving me some gyan on a training session he is undergoing these days. I was sounding interesting but I wasn't at all. One reason was his voice was not at all clear, whenever he used to say would come to my ears in a bit heavy voice with overlapped sound waves. Then after enough chit chat with him, I asked if he has any questions to ask. He replied “there isn't anything specifically he wants to know” “Oh Come on, I am not the first girl you are talking to for marriage alliance” I jibed. He got serious with this “I don’t talk to girls like this every other day as well”. “No no I agree but just happen to know if you want to know something specific”. he declined. And I liked it. As I thought he comes with an open mind and broad thinking, probably. To continue with discussion I thought of taking a small HR interview. “Where do you see yourself after 5 years or 10 years of life, don't get me wrong or think if I am taking a recruitment interview. But just wanted to know what people in your field do” Basically I wanted to see his outlook towards life and his ambitions. He said a very structured answer to this, only that much I was able to gather. I popped up again “Do you want to be an entrepreneur or you want to open up your company after some point of time” I have faced this ambition off lately by most of the guys in recent matrimony proposals. But he was not one of them, he was different. Though his voice and thus answer wasn't clear to me, all I could understand was he wants a stable life for his family. But I being devil, I countered him “So you don’t believe in taking risks?” This was also answered well, though the answer wasn't much clear to me.

Then over the discussion I got to know that he works at Silicon valley. That’s quite an achievement for engineers of our country, I guess. As far as I happen to know this field. So I congratulated him if his dream was achieved appropriately.

On and off some discussion happened around the above said points only. Then he said he needs to rush home as it was late in night in California. I laughed off and bid him good bye. Phone line was disconnected. And I was like “Holy-shit He’s a nice guy and I like him I think”

Later, mom took a feedback on this guy “Ya he is good, I mean initially all look same” But still beta how is he like. “Ya he is very simple, what will I do with him I don’t know”. Simple guys are good to be husbands. “But I am not only looking for a husband but my very good friend first”. Oh he will be. “No he wont because we are very different”.

"What is she doing !!!? Is she talking my picture!!!?" :Gautum

28th June 2013, 6:45 pm PST. It was one of the busier days in office. Another impending big software release was the cause a lot of work for the people. There is a lot of activity in office everyday hence. No gym today so I have time to purchase things from the Indian grocery store. I am on my way back with the usual bachelor grocery shopping which includes maggie, readymade paranthas, readmade dals, yogurt and raw almonds. I am waiting for the train at the Bayerassa train station. There is a police car parked next to the station. Maybe some black guy was acting funny in the areas near to the station. Another black guy approaches me and asks for a dollar. I refuse while thinking in my mind if I should give him a lecture on earning his own bread and not begging in front of other people. But I restrain myself. He is well built and no matter how much you work out, you do not challenge a black guy anywhere. I look away in the direction of where the train is suppose to come from while clutching to my laptop bag and groceries bag closer to my body. I do not want to be robbed in broad evening light.

28th June 2013, 8:45 pm PST. I treat myself to the cuppa maggie. Cuppa maggie is the most easiest way to prepare maggie for the more lazier of the folks who do not feel like going to kitchen to make one maggie serving on the gas. Just pour hot water in the cuppa maggie can, wait for 5 minutes and you are good to go for dinner. Not a healthy choice for dinner but good enough to fill the stomach for the night. I open my gmail account. I am expecting a reply to my email I sent in morning to Pooja to meet her parents over a video chat. No email from her. As always she does not respond to emails immediately she receives one. 

"Beta, we met her over lunch on last Sunday and she is very beautiful and full of life. She listens well and responds well to our conversation. She is pretty alert." I recollect the feedback of my Papa about Pooja when my family members met her at one of the revolving restaurants in Connaught Place in Delhi. "Her parents want to speak to you over a video chat. Why don't you arrange sometime so that they can speak to you?", my father continued. "Yes.. Who gives an invitation for his/her own parade to other people? Probably you will be the only one to do this.", came another sarcastic tirades of my inner voice. "I will meet them over the video call.", I acknowledged him over the phone. "Why do you say 'I will' when you can say 'dekhta hoon' . Now you have no option than to parade yourself", the inner voice spoke the truth. So I sent an email to Pooja today morning requesting her to provide a time so that I can speak to her parents over a video call to which she had not replied till later in the night. 

I put some random movie "Khiladi 786" to kill the time on Friday night. There is a very catchy dialogue in the film, "Punjabi na chup-chap aate hain aur na chup-chap jaate hain". I am amazed with the creativity of the dialogue writer of this film. "Dilliwaliyan, na sunti hain aur na sunati hain. Jaane kis duniya main rahti hain", I come up with my own brand of one-liner for the Delhi girls, especially for Pooja as she does not respond to my emails on time. Papa calls around late in night inquiring if I was able to do I video chat with Pooja's parents. "Papa she has not replied. I will set up a time when she replies.", I reply to him. Its late in night and I really tired with the weeks overload. So I doze of around 11:00 pm PST. 

29th June 2013, 6:45 am PST. Email is one of the more necessary things in my life and I check them first every morning. So Pooja has finally responded. I quickly reply to her by fixing 8:30 am PST as the time to meet her parents for a video chat. And like last weekend, I ready myself to be paraded yet again albeit over a video call. "Are you really interested in this girl? I mean, I have not seen you so desperate ever as you are running to office every Saturday morning. What's up with you dude? Even I am finding it difficult to figure what's up with you..", inquires the inner voice again. "I am as interested as my parents if that pleases you. And what's wrong with meeting her parents anyways. She also met mine on last Sunday. As a gesture, I should not have qualms meeting her parents in reciprocation.", I reply back in the more sensible of the tones. "Well, then run. We will miss the 7:50 am train. And do not forget to practice the exercises learnt over the week after the video call.", my inner voice reminds me of the stuff I need to do today. "I will work extra harder in gym today. I need to give something back to you for all the free advice you give me every now and then", I poke some fun back at him.

So I am in office at about 8:15 am and I have time to prepare one shot of coffee. I am back at 8:30 am in the conference room to meet Pooja's parents. Things seems to be following in place today and I see Pooja online on my gmail account. We agree to start the video chat. "No prior preparations this time, dude? Take some deep breaths and remember to be nice to her and her parents.", advices my inner voice. "What a good day? Whose face did I see in morning today to be bestowed with good things today. Maybe my own", I think as I find my inner voice getting increasingly friendlier today. So I click the button to start the hangout with Pooja. She appears on the screen. She is looking much easier on the face today and there is no gloss on her face as was there the time when we had our first video chat. "Has she switched those fairness creams to lesser oiler ones? She indeed looks good today", flirts the inner voice. "Hi Pooja, how are you? How was your week?", I inquire with strange confidence in my voice today. "Its the coffee. How can you change in a week", my inner voice pulls me back. "I am good. My week was busy", replies Pooja. She is not staring intently at me today so she seems at ease today with herself or me. "So how the meeting with my parents last weekend?", I try to enquire as to how she felt after meeting my parents. "Your parents, uncle and aunty are sweet people. I liked meeting them", she replies with the typical laughter and liveliness in her voice. "How I wish I could hear laughter all my life", my inner voice was sort of falling for her now. "That's good. Are your parents around?", I try to get to the point of the meeting. "Yes they are here", she makes way for her parents so that they are seated on the bed where she was sitting. I fold my hands as a mark of respect to her parents as they appear on my laptop screen. They acknowledge my salutation back.

"Beta, how are you?", asks Pooja's father. "Ji, I am good , Sir. Aap kaise hain", I reply in the best possible manner to sound someone with etiquettes. So I start talking with Pooja's parents. The internet connection on their end has problems so sometimes the video and audio go out of sync. "Its been raining here heavily for the past few days so the internet connection has some problem", Pooja's father tries to give an explanation as to why my communication over the video chat with them is not smooth. Pooja's mother tries to ask me some questions with regards to the job opportunities in US for Pooja. "Will she be able to work there, beta?", she inquires. "With her qualification she should be able to find a job but it depends if the hiring company can sponsor her work visa", I tell them as much as I know. I then explain them the details of work visa and how it is challenging for spouses to find work in US. "My Pooja looses her temper very easily. Will you be able to handle that?", her mother asks another difficult question. "Both mother and daughter ask such difficult questions, dude. Is this a family tradition or genetics? Beware, trick question, trick question. Answer carefully. ", my inner voice sounds an alarm. "Well, everybody gets angry including me. But talking things out and a little bit of understanding resolves most problems and subsides anger.", I try to come up with a logical enough reply. I do not know how much of my voice reached out to them but they seemed satisfied. 

Meanwhile, I loose their voice in the video chat. I can see their lips moving but there is no voice from their end. I terminate the video call and start another video chat. This time the connection is a lot stable and I get to talk more to Pooja's parents. "Our families have very similar backgrounds and values", Pooja's father tries to point out the similarities in our respective families. "Haan ji, my parents told me about details of your family. Our families are indeed very similar", I reply back. Pooja's father asks about my job profile while her mother asks about my working hours. I explain them job duties and provide details with regards to my daily schedule. Both her parents seemed nice and down to earth people. This was probably the first time that I spoke to some girl's parents over the video chat. This showed that they were serious with regards to their daughter's future. For the first time I realized, the concerns of a daughter's parents with regards to their daughter's future with some boy so far away. For the first time I was happy that I was talking to people who were concerned about their daughter's future and worried if I will be able to meet their expectations if I was the chosen one for their daughter. "Don't go overboard. Listen to their questions?", remarks my inner voice which brought me back into the present.   

So I keep talking to Pooja's parents for about 45 minutes with bad voice and video quality. I had to terminate the video call a few more times to hear them clearly and get my voice to them. "You work in Cisco systems and you have a good calibre, Beta. It was nice talking to you. I will call Pooja if you may want to talk to her.", says  Pooja's father as her father and mother bid me good bye. I again fold my hands as a mark of respect to her parents as they appear to leave the screen of the video call. Pooja appears shortly afterwards. She is not looking at ease now. I wonder what happened. I was the one who got paraded not her. We do not talk much after her parents left. "So any plans for today?", she finally says something. "Yeah, I will probably head to the gym and then get some rest at home. I have had a busy week." , I gave her a boring reply.  She is intently looking at her laptop screen trying to do something. Then, there is a click sound. "What is she doing !!!? Is she talking my picture!!!?", remarks my saner voice. "How desperate is she dude? She is taking a picture of yours? I can't imagine any dude, leave alone the gals, clicking pictures of you over video chat", my inner voice is playfully taking snide potshots at me. "She might have clicked for her parents or her grandparents", I try to defend her. We say bye and the video chat is finally over.

I walk back to the train station with a lighter head while enjoying another day of marvelous and warm sunshine. I managed to talk to Pooja's parents and maybe it will be over after this call with Pooja's proposal. Or maybe it may not be over. Whatever be case I was happy. I am no longer worried on how things will shape up with Pooja. Maybe it was the day which started well. Maybe it was a bunch of nice people that I met today. Maybe it was Pooja's lovely laughter. Maybe it was my inner voice's friendly olive branch to me. Or maybe things related to my matrimony were finally turning in my favor. Only time will tell. 

First video chat: Gautum

6:15 am PST June 22nd 2013, San Jose. "What is that sound? Where is it coming from? Its coming from the the mobile phone. Where is the phone now? Why is it not besides me in the bed? Why is it kept on the drawer besides the window where my hand cannot reach? How many seconds are left before it goes quiet again. Finally...., God you exist". The alarm in my mobile phone went quiet once again like so many other days where I shut the alarm and continue my sleep for few more minutes. The very nature of a human being is to prolong the sleep as long as possible. People say sleep rests body and mind for some. For me it serves other purposes like hiding from my inner voice, getting over a bad day at office or most importantly getting over silly potshots by people on my age and being unmarried as yet. While mind does recognize the nasty intentions behind such potshots of pulling one down for no good reason, I am not the toughest people going around. Its 6:25 am. Another blare. "Ok alarm-dude, I will get up now and shut you up." I get up, remove the phone from the charger and shut the alarm by tapping on the touch screen of the mobile.

So after a bit of meditation and attending to usual morning chores, I open my laptop to see if this girl Pooja Goyal had cared to reply to my email last night. The inner voice is also up by now though it is little late today than usual because today is Saturday. "Dude... she did not reply to your nicer email nor did she bother to pick up your phone call. What more indications you need that she is not interested?", comes another of its negative jibes. "Well she replied and I did not see her email in time because you were giving me shit last night!!!", I fight back. The internet is working so I am able to get through to gmail.com. She replied saying sorry that she missed the call and that Saturday morning was good with her for a video chat. Video chat is important so that you can see other person live and to see if there is something untoward with respect to looks. Frankly speaking, I do not advocate it much as it does not serve any useful purpose. You could possibly see the face but the entire body language of the person is now where to be seen on a video call. So I am going to get ready to go to office to have a video chat with Pooja. "Dude, don't...don't go to office now..... You do not understand the subtle meaning of postponing the video to chat to today morning. Why are you so dumb in reading people, dude? Go to gym. Revise the exercises learnt over the week from your trainer. Maybe you will end up dating a hotter American chick. This parade week-in week-out is not getting you anywhere", my inner voice is certainly materialistic every time it speaks and this time it was even sounding logical. "I need to go otherwise Papa will give me another dressing down. You do not get to listen to any of his scoldings anyways. So shut-up!!! I will go to the gym after my video chat with her. I will keep it short. I anyways have slim hopes as she way too much out my class. The gym is open till 12:00 pm so I should be able to practice all that was taught this week.", as my Papa-fearing rational side tries to conjure up a counter argument.

So I shave-up and have a nice hot bath. Shaving and bathing are a bare minimum I do in order to present myself in front of a girl over video calls. It's been six months since I have had a hair cut so I oil and set my hair right. "They will anyways curl around and helter-skelter after they dry up.", quips the inner voice. "Yes, they do because you speak too much", I blare out. I do not eat anything as I need to go to the gym afterwards. I adorn a black t-shirt and blue jeans as with black t-shirt you do not need to iron out the wrinkles. I pack a bag of gym clothes and my office laptop and rush to catch the 7:50 am train.  

I reach my office around 8:10 am and send another email to her to check if she is available for a video call. By 8:30 am there is no response. "God, why are arrange marriages so difficult to make happen. For this Saturday morning You wrote nothing better in my destiny than to wait for a girl who I do not know is interested in me at all!!! I will give her one last call to check if she is available. If she does not respond, then I will...", I choke up because of my thirst and hunger. So I call her. I am able to get through to her this time. "Yes, please give a few minutes. Will you be able to wait till 9:30 pm IST?", Pooja asks over the phone. "Yes, should be okay. Its Saturday morning so I have all the time in this world", I manage to come up with a rational statement which conveys that I am feeling okay. 

"Dude, go have some coffee before you say something nasty to her over the video call and scare her off.", comes another of the more helpful suggestions of the inner voice. However, rude the inner voice may sound like, it guides me well when I am at some critical juncture. I brew fresh coffee in my office's break room and get back in the conference room in about 10 minutes with fresh coffee. I check the topcoder website for some interesting algorithm problems. I do not want to think about the video call. I just want to be done with it and move on with my life. She will probably reject me after seeing me on Google+ or I will find something odd with her behavior. I eventually doze of after having coffee and thinking about the solutions for the problems on Topcoder's website. 

I wake up around 9:05 am. She has sent another email asking if I am online. I ping her over google chat and she responds with an acknowledgement to start the google chat. So here I am video chatting with Pooja Goyal  under the influence of coffee which is ineffective, after messing up my brain with few algorithm problems and under the worry that I will miss my gym session today because of the video call. 

"Hi Gautum", says Pooja after seeing me over the google+ hangout. "Hi Pooja", I return the favor. Then there is a eerie silence for about a minute. I am trying to think what to say while she is staring intently at me over the hangout. "Will you break the ice by asking me something?", Pooja asks a question in her trademark assertive manner. "Dude is there some cold war going on between two of you? Marriage is supposed to be a warm and sacred bond", remarks the inner voice. "Ask something before she doubts your Delhi ethnicity. Well, of course you are not from Delhi. You were born in Laljang, RaeBareli. Seriously, what did you do to get delivered in Laljang!!!", urges on my inner voice. "Wha...What is your job profile? What is that you actually do in management at Timesgroup?", I managed to ask her something after all. So she tells me about she does at her company and we get talking over video chat. For the first time, I sort of realized that there is professional life outside computers and software engineering. "I think she is the first management degree holder that we are speaking with", my inner voice adds 'we' to the conversation. "Back-off dude!!! You slip watching a beautiful girl live every time. It was, is and will be always only be me and not us. You can look and appreciate but who ever will be my wife will only belong to me.", I banter across to my inner self as I sense that it is showing significant interest in Pooja. 

"So what are my opportunities in USA? My background is in management and yours is purely technical. If you were in any other city in India then I need not worry about my job situation. But with US it is different", asks Pooja. Well her question is valid. If I were asked to move to India after marriage I would have the same questions not that the two situations are the same. "I cannot tell you anything about the management jobs in Silicon Valley because of my technical background but with your qualification we should be able to find a job here. Once we reach to a conclusion that we should get hitched, then I can work towards finding the appropriate job for you...", I reply with the intent of telling her the truth and how I will help her in case we get hitched. "Seriously, what else we can say at this stage?", adds the inner voice with still the wicked 'we' in his voice.

Meanwhile, I see a certain gloss on her face. Is it too hot at her place so she is sweating or has she put on some moisturizer? Ma told it was very hot in Delhi during this week in the month of June. But Pooja wasn't wiping any sweat from her face. "Everyone has an A/C now-a-days in Delhi, so she is definitely not sweating. Does she have a oily skin?", observes my inner voice. Its 9:20 am. I am looking at the wall clock in the conference room to keep tab on the time.

I again forgot my famous matrimonial questionnaire at home so I am not asking many questions to Pooja. By now I have grown tired asking those questions to girls in India anyways. Same questions same answers underneath. But what use has the questionnaire served anyways. I was still not able to judge the girls properly enough and may have ruined my chances with many other by asking complicated questions which do not matter in such early phases of tele-marital-proposing. Do such questions matter in life as well? How much of the idealistic answers that I expect from the girls do I follow in my life on daily basis? Barely any. Meanwhile, we talk once more regarding our families and their respective backgrounds. My voice is sometime not audible to her so she tells me adjust the mic in my headphone. But even that does not help. So I droop a little so as to get near the microphone of my office laptop. I am near the laptop camera."Dude, you have a big face. If none of your manners scare her off that big face of yours will definitely scare her. Oh look at those pimples!!! Are you still sixteen or what? Oh!! those are the raw almonds you had last night on your face.", quips the inner voice. "If she knew what you think of girls and women, she will never ever interview a Gupta sur-named person any more for her matrimonial alliances.", I fire back at my inner voice.

"So what are your plans for today?", Pooja asks. "I will go to the gym after my video call with you and then do some office work that is pending. Maybe, if I am lucky and my younger brother has time, I will head to Berkely to meet him tomorrow", I tell her the truth about my boring lifestyle. "You workout regularly?" , she asks back. "Yes, about three to four days a week", I tell her. "That should impress her. No girl till now has shown interest in your workout regime.", remarks the inner voice. "What do you normally do in gym?", she inquires back. "Cardiovascular exercises followed by weight training. Now-a-days, I am attending circuit style training under a trainer with my friend", as I give details of my schedule at gym. I tell Pooja more about my gym classes and how they are different from routine gym workout regimes. I tell her that they are petty tiring and exhausting and that I need to practice them over the weekend. "Sahi hai, tum to gym freak ho yaar", she concludes. "What was that? Was it a complement or a outright rejection that you are like any other brainless folks who are classified as 'gym freaks'", remarks the inner voice.  

So while chit-chatting with Pooja and my inner voice, its getting closer to 10:00 am. I tell Pooja that I need to head to gym otherwise I will miss my self session today. "It was nice speaking to you, Pooja", as I try to bid her farewell, maybe for last time. "Same here", replies Pooja. We say bye and the video chat is finally over.

While walking back to the train station, to catch another train to the Cisco gym, I feel mentally and physically exhausted. I am thinking about my video chat with Pooja that if it went well, if I like the girl, what if she does not like me or what if she likes me. I am unable to decide so I leave things in hand of Almighty or destiny as they. "Why is the train late? Its Saturday. Everybody is taking it easy. Except me", I question and then self-answer my question.  The morning sun feels gorgeous and bestows its beautiful warmth on my face and my hands. Is someone out there who will bestow her life for me and provide me with the warmth that all married/un-married couples feel. I look at the side of a my right palm. I still see the faint line which according to my Dadi is the line of my better half. Its faint that all but that's with most of the lines in my palm anyways. If only, those lines were stronger.

My first impressions: Pooja

9th June 2013- the day it all started

"Hey Mom" I was just back after meeting my friend. "You look beautiful!Where are you headed to??". And here comes my mom's same old reply, "told you about that guy, going to meet his family". AArgh not again, but you know what by now I have become immune to the idea that my parents going to meet some xyz guy's family and think about if to pursue further. "Ok byee" with least interest to even ask what is the location they are headed to. And I sit back on my couch to surf my favorite pastime idiot box Television. 

Hours later, they come back. "Mom am hungry, what are we going to have today?? something exotic right!?". My mom was just back meeting that family and got haunted by my question to ask on food and not how were things. She, knowing me, started with her own self . "Pooja family is really good and we really liked them" - All families are good at the first go Mom, remember the last one. In the end all boil down to same old things. "Rather family is almost like ours". Now this is the new thing that you're talking. "His dadi is also from Narela [my granny also happens to be from Narela]". Oh good nice connection, Amma would be really happy. "According to them guy is very good, his dadi was like my son is very handsome and well qualified, a great guy to be with". So what, to all parents their child is best in the whole world.

"Pooja, he is settled in USA" -- MOM I have told you I hate states and on top of that these NRI larke. "No No we've told in first place that our girl would never want to settle there". Good for you else I'd have taken a class of this guy. BTW what was there answer. "Even this guy also doesn't wants to. Their younger son has outwardly said to never return to homeland but the elder brother wants to", ummmm ya whatever.

"Achcha mom I was thinking shall I do some shopping for my London trip, I mean I have applied I don't know when would visa come. What say". "Yups darling we'll see". I was just trying to change the topic of discussion. And then we resumed all our mother-daughter talks and some family things.

10th June 2013, Monday morning

I reached office and tried to gather what exactly is in store for me this week. Any new appointments, client calls. Check. Then as usual my phone rings 'MOM calling'. No matter whatever happen in this world but she never miss the call of calling me after I reach office to check if I reached safely. Love you for this, and this makes me think all over again if there is any guy on this planet who can love me more than you love. Naah. "Hi Mom" "did you had breakfast" "yes" "how are you" "good" (morning we said bye to each other, just difference is she leaves early than I do) "Okay Pooja, the guy I told you about yesterday" "ya now what happened" "Nothing sweetie" "he would mail you so please at least talk to him naa" "Mom I will but I told you chances are bleak" "just talk to him once, what's harm in that" "ya ya I'll see, chalo bye I have work" "bye baby"

Some time off the work, I thought of opening my gmail to check some personal mails if any. Oh now to my surprise what do I see.

There is someone's mail saying:

Fwd: profile of yr son on jeevan saathi Matrimonial <scgupta75@gmail.com>

 to gautum, askgoyal, me, amita

Gautum

As briefed, Pooja's parents visited us today evening.

We will like you to call and talk to Pooja on 9873590400 or google video chat

This weekend or at your mutual convenience.

My first reaction was "which picture of mine my dad has sent across, let me have a look" "ohho there ain't picture, so forget it, now what".

Evening mails check and there was a mail from some Gautum Gupta. To me it looked more like an official mail in my personal mailbox.

Hi Pooja,

This is Gautum. I hope you are healthy and doing well. Our parents had met regarding our matrimonial proposal. Can we speak sometime over phone next weekend? Anytime Saturday or Sunday will work for me.

Thanks,

Gautum

Ok dude, what are you trying to be. Extra polite! Why? A bit chivalrous! that too why? Or a typical engineer! Yes :/. Bete now see how Pooja would play her cards. I also replied in the same official manner with a minor test hidden.

Hi Gautum,

Good to hear from you. I am okay anytime, Saturday or Sunday.

If you are comfortable to talk during day by Indian time, it would be great.

Take care.

Pooja

Catch was I didn't wanted to talk to this guy during night, knowing this suits for him as it would be a daytime for this chap. Moreover if you have displayed yourself to be some extra-polite, chivalrous, mannered guy. Bring it on. I am no less either. Decent girls don't talk to strange guys late at night. So if you want to chat with me then you happen to do it by Indian daytime. Probably he might be testing me as well, who knows.

Let's see if he is intelligent enough to get it.

Do you have any entrepreneurial skills!!!: Gautum

"May I speak with Pooja?" It was 11:15 pm on a Friday night in San Jose. I called her number from my Google voice account which says 0.02$ per minute for calls made to India. I don't know why I came to office so late on a Friday to speak to another girl in India. Well, my heavy and lofty principles was only one of the reasons. The other was that I had gotten a real dressing down from Papa for not following up with her a few days ago. And the dressing down was pretty fresh in my mind. "What do you want us to do? We keep looking for matches and you do not have any responsibility for following up with them. I am not going to look for another girl for you if you do not speak to her." roared Papa over the phone. "If he stops looking for matches, then you are done dude. You will stay alone for the rest of your life. Do you want to die alone? Do you want to die a virgin?", spoke the inner voice and spoke the truth. "What virgin and all dude? Shut-up!! I am not that kind of person. I am more interested in personality of the girl. The other things are not all that important now", squeaked my uncomfortable saner counterpart. Were those the only reasons? Ok, I am lying now. The third was that the girl looked beautiful in her profile pictures. However, depressed soul one has, no man turns down an offer to speak to a beautiful girl. It's in the DNA of most men. Speaking to any girl, in first place, gives men a high. And when the girl is beautiful the high gets better. And when the beautiful girl sees you as a future partner, then its an absolute ecstasy.

I digressed a quite a bit. The call got answered from the other end. "ZZZZ Who.. is.. this?" comes the reply.

"Its Gautam. We had an appointment to speak over phone regarding our matrimonial proposal. Did I disturb you?". I thought I woke her up from sleep.

"No problem. we can talk". comes the acknowledgement. She seems courteous enough to speak despite someone disturbing her Saturday sleep. Now starts a sequence of longer pauses where my brain freezes and I cannot talk. "Say something, before she disconnects the line", my inner voice is egging me on. "Say hello again if nothing else is making out of that stupid brain of yours", my inner voice is now castigating me no end. Its not funny as I forgot the set of questions I usually ask girls at home. "Are you there?", finally Pooja breaks the awful silence. "How was your week, Poo..ja?", finally something came out. "It was busy. How was yours?", Pooja answers well even after just waking up. "Mine.. was..... busy", I reply. I am usually a copycat when I am nervous. But the initial hiccups were taken care of, mostly by Pooja.

So we finally got talking. We start talking usual stuff like what is our work profile, what is our day like and what our hobbies. For a girl, who holds a prestigious MBA degress and an engineering degree from my university, she seemed fairly humble. She complains that my voice is not clear. Thanks to my office laptop whose speakers and mic are not all that good. "Which college are you from?", asks Pooja. "DCE", I reply. Didn't she read my profile? "Your voice is not clear. Can you say that again?", complains Pooja. "Its Delhi College of Engineering", I reply with a little bit of annoyance. "Oh.. Ok. I spent my first semester in DCE. So there will be no NSIT/DCE rivalry between us. I warn you", pat comes her reply.

We exchange notes about our family. I had not gone over her bio-data in detail but she had not gone over it at all. For a moment, I thought, she may mistook me for someone else. "Tera credit koi aur le jayega. Well works both ways. She may reject someone else. You may still get to speak to her one more time", the inner voice is so aggressive. I sometime wished, my personality was more like my inner voice, aggressive and bold. But as they say once a pot a molded it cannot change its own shape.

"Do you have any entrepreneurial skills? Do you want to open a company of your own?", asks Pooja. Two questions back to back. "Now is the test dude. Good luck. I will get a cup of coffee", remarked the inner voice and fled. Its always like that. When the going gets tough the my inner voice is of no use. " Well, I am not among those who have huge reserves of energy to open a company of their own. I am simple person who works hard and makes things happen on daily basis. But entrepreneurial skills aren't just limited to opening a company. It could also mean an author publishing his book, an engineer designing a new circuit or coming up with some innovation which generates revenue for company or a cook coming up a brand new recipe", hoooh, that came out well. "So do you not like taking risks?", asks Pooja again. Another tough follow-up question. "I am not a risk taking person by nature. I plan and execute things. But with experience and age, I have started taking adequate number of risks. I now know where to take the risk and where not to" , another safe answer. "Dude, I bow to you. You killed it", my inner voice was showering respect to me for the first time, though it was sipping hot coffee nearby.  

"Sahi hai, so, you always dreamt of working in Silicon Valley in US?", asks Pooja again. She is surely not inhibited by anything. "Well, I was lucky to get a job in Silicon Valley. But I spent enough time in extreme cold weather to realize that I could not survive in snow and ice. I just wanted to get out of that place ASAP out to a more comfortable climate", I reply. This time the answer was very genuine. Its been two and half years in San Jose but I am still so fed up of snow that I do not want to go anywhere near it.

"I want to make it clear... I do not want to settle outside India", remarks an assertive Pooja. By now it was clear that she will be the one who will express in any of her relationships and the other one will have to abide by her or add to her ideas. "I am not planning to settle in US for long term", God knows I may have answered this question a million times to all the girls I have spoken to so far. So this one was easy-peasy. "We seem to be doing okay here", remarks the inner voice.

I was too tired of thinking of any questions for her. But like a fast train, she took off and ran the whole conversation. For the first time, I did not have anything to do to understand a girl. She was trying to understand me and in turn helping me understand her. Speaking of trains, the last train to home leaves at 12:25 am. Its a 10 minute walk to the train station, so I must leave by 12:10 am. What time is it? It's 12:12 am. "Need to run dude, unless you want to turn into a vampire yourself!!! You know vampires suck blood and turn the victim into one of their own.", remarks a smiling inner voice. I cut Pooja in between of one of her verbose sentences. "Pooja, let's speak some more later.... I need to go. It was nice speaking to you", I try to hasten the call to an end. "It was nice speaking to you as well", came a courteousness reply from Pooja. I end the call and close my laptop and run to station.

After 8 minutes of huffing and puffing, I managed to reach the train station. I was relieved to see a man waiting for the train. As I breathed heavily, I try to recollect what we spoke about and how did it feel. But mind was too tired to think anything. If anything that I felt was a feeling that it was over. That I knew a bit more about myself today, thanks to her. That I forgot, who I was in her presence. That she was not too bothered about profession and my shortcomings. That maybe I wanted to speak to her one more time. 

The inner voice and nightmares: Gautum

"What the hell!!!" out comes another loud shriek. These shrieks have become commonplace in last few weeks because the internet at my home disconnects every now and then. And it happens mostly on Friday nights when I am trying to stream some movie over Youtube. I complained to my loving landlady but she would not care to call the service provider. So I here I am cut-off from the world and humming "Main aur meri tanhai aksar ye baat karte hain...". Nothing bums you more when internet does not work while you are trying to watch a movie. "How about watching a movie on the hard-drive?" comes another viable alternative. Hmmm... that's not an option. Well, I have seen the movies on the hard-drive countless number of times. So much so that I even know the dialogues of some and worse still I even remember the next frame to the current frame that is playing. It's 8:30 pm and I have no plans of going out. I am one of those people who prefer to stay at home on Friday evenings. Anyways I am too boring and unappealing to girls so going to pubs and bars is a futile activity.

"Where is this life headed, dude? What are you doing here so far away from home?" comes the inner voice. "Please let me be. I am tired from a busy week. I am sick of the same questions again and again", that's my way of dodging my inner voice's questions. The usual inner commotion ensues but I have no mental strength left to think any more. I eventually doze-off.

"What is Ma doing? Is she in kitchen? No, she is not in kitchen. Is she in her bed room sleeping? No, she ins't there either. Is she in the varendah? Where is she? Where is Papa? Where is his watch? Is he not at home? Has he gone to the ashram? What time is it? It's 10:00 pm. Then why is nobody at home today? Everybody is at home at 10 in the night. Is Ma okay? Is Papa okay? Where are they. Please, someone, someone please tell me where are Ma and Papa.Why is it so dark here? Can someone switch on the lights?", and I finally woke up from another fearful dream where I am not able to find Ma and Papa at home. A dream where I do not know where they are and if they are well. Another nightmare, I wish happens to no one.

Its 9:30 pm now. I see the lights on the router beaming which meant that the internet connectivity was back. I am still sobering up from the nightmare. I want to call Ma and Papa. It is Saturday morning in India. I call Ma but she is not picking up her phone. I call Papa but I get the message in a melodious voice from a lady, "The person whom you are calling is currently busy. Please hold the line or call later". I bet this lady maybe 50 years old now as I have been hearing her voice since eternity. Even though I could not speak to him but I was relieved that he was speaking to someone. Let's get to the movie then. It's amazing how the mind changes it's state so quickly.

I boot the laptop. Another gmail check. No new email...As I am reading down the already read list of the emails I see email from "Pooja Goyal". Did I give her time tonight to speak for the matrimonial proposal? Yes it looks like from the emails. What time is it supposed to happen? 12:00 pm IST. "Good God, Who kept this ungodly time for a call?", another pathetic plea from inner voice. But who set the time, dumb head. You only dearest GG. "Leave it. Do not call her. Its just another proposal which will go nowhere. Girl is nicely settled in India and that to in Delhi. She will never come to US and surely not for a guy like you...", says the inner voice. "But I gave her time. I must speak to her, for her sake, for her parent's sake, for my parent's word and for my own word. I can't back out now", comes the reply from the modern day Yudhishter. "Even if nothing materializes, I must attend the call for professional reasons. I work in a world class company and I have imbibed certain qualities. So, I must keep up the standards even if my interaction happens for personal reasons.", comes another set of mere-asol-mere-adarsh inflated words. "I warned you, but you just won't listen.", the inner voice gives up.

Meanwhile Papa calls up. His voice is always so comforting and calm but today it meant much more. He asks if I was able to reach out to Pooja. I tell him that we are slated to speak tonight. "Papa, the internet is intermittently stops working. I am not sure if it will hold up during the call with her?", I tell him the problem. "So what will you do?" Papa enquirers. "Should I go to the office, then?", I suggest a solution. "Haan, that will work. Office internet should be reliable enough.", Papa shoots back. That got approved faster than shooting down of my pleas of not pursuing any more matrimonial proposals for me. "Not every proposal is same, Gautum. You must give chance to everyone. When it clicks it hardly takes time for things to move forward.", Papa expresses his usual optimism over the call. "If nothing has materialized in one year, then how do you expect things to work now?", comes the reply from my usual pessimism.  Papa hangs-up the line after a little bit of usual chit-chat. Ok, let's check the train timetable. "The last train from I-880 Milipitas leaves at 12:25 am. 12:25 am. 12:25 am. Remember GG", the inner voice is sometime useful.

So I take the train out to my office. Most of the folks in the train are Indians, some going to watch the movie in "Great Mall" while some are headed to downtown for their rendezvous in some pub. So heads turn, when I am the only person, with my laptop bag, to get down at "I-880 Milipitas" station. I could see those eyeballs roll and speak "What he is doing? Why he is slogging so hard? Why he is missing on all the fun of life?". I listen quietly and proceed to my destination, my office.

It's 10:15 pm by the time I reach office. Same climb of two floors. Same pride of climbing 130 odd floors in the gym earlier in the evening. Well 130 floors in 25 minutes or 5 kilometers in 35 minutes is an achievement but I am sort of obsessed with it. It gives me a high when I do it again and again. There is something about health numbers which fascinates me no end. Anyways, the office kind of feels spooky so late in night with not a single soul around. "Are there ghosts around then? Have you seen a vampire?", the inner voice would just not shut-up. I have been watching "Twlight: Breaking Dawn" of late, more for the beautiful actress than its story. But thought of ghosts and vampires is scary. I could see my tiny hair raise and feel a strange chill down my spine. So admist uncertainty of my life's direction, fear of failure of another proposal, nightmares related to my parents and thoughts of ghost and vampire, I wait for the time when I will call Pooja.