An American Teen in India

Being Able to Speak Hindi

2010-09-06T07:47:00.000-07:00

I realized today the impact that being able to speak Hindi has had on my experience in India. In one way I'm glad that I'm more effectively able to function in my surroundings than before, that I'm more independent in that respect; but on the other hand I feel its a testament to the idea that I'm starting to lose touch with my roots.
Last time we went to New York to renew our visas, I found that I was looking at the city less like my home and more like a new country. It was more than the usual, "Oh my god look it's beef" and the perennial feasting on all things unavailable here in India. It quickly became apparent to me that many of my mannerisms had changed and that I was really thinking of myself more as an outsider, like someone from somewhere else. I felt like a foreigner in my own country and it scared me. I realized my reluctance to become too attached to India, I wanted to feel at home but it just wasn't there. I don't even feel homesick anymore.

Get a Job

2009-12-18T23:20:00.000-08:00

I'm sixteen now and I've been starting to look at job opportunities in Delhi, most of which make use of my nationality; Voice-overs, Foreign Perspective Writing etc. I was looking at Jobs I would be eligible for here in India and began to remember the kinds of jobs I would have in the US as opposed to here.

The usual jobs back in Aurora IL for a kid my age would probably be something like sweeping the movie theater or working at a grocery store, but here, simply because I am fluent in English and a foreigner I am considered overqualified for any of those jobs. You will never, ever find a 'Mike Robins' sweeping the theaters at someplace like DT Theaters or working the register at Reliance Fresh. I could have those jobs back home where its considered a part of life, the first-job.

But it dawns on me that this might be a good thing: I will be able to write on my resume that at sixteen I was doing freelance writing for numerous start-ups throughout the Delhi-Gurgaon area as well as Voice-Over experience etc.

I suddenly feel better about my first foray into Job Hunting. I picked the right place at the wrong time, because Job Hunting in the US... enough said.

Homes

2009-12-15T20:13:00.000-08:00

Gurgaon is soulless. Honestly, every place I have ever lived in had its own uniqueness about it, its own identifying mark. Gurgaon is like a Model Home, it has the shape of a home, it is meant to be seen as a home and be an example of a home, but it doesn't have the air of a home. There is no soul here, it is a backward city, fueled by a sudden burst of modernization in a place that is inherently a shell, a ghost without the ability to cope with such a sudden change. Its an old, archaic skeleton hiding behind massive amounts of foreign investment.

Their effort to attain a global status is a futile own, sabotaged by its own backbone. The city has an erie aura to it, grasped it has been, by a bitter, melancholy mood, polluting its inhabitants with a sense of foreboding alienation; However I've realized this place is only a passing period, the route from point A to point B. I would rather walk through fire than spend more time than I absolutely have to here.

I'm not one of the foriegners who came to India and felt totally uncomfortable immersing themselves in such a different world, I have truly been changed by India. I will never be the same, it will be something that I will carry with me always. It will be something that will make me different from any of my friends in the US for India is something that one must experience themselves. There is so much to tell about India, its nigh impossible to paint an accurate picture of what living here is like. It truly is on the other side of the planet, and to be able to fully describe it to someone would prove to be a daunting task for each experience is different for everyone. It is now a connection I will share with a limited number of people, and it is something that will set me apart from many in the US who absolutely cannot comprehend what it means to live here.

There isn't much of a focus in this post beyond the spectrum of homes, I wrote it as it came to me. The point really is that living in India is something unique and something that will always remain a part of you forever.

I'm Getting Old feat. Ninja Assassin

2009-12-11T04:59:00.000-08:00

It's been a long time since my last post, and I still don't quite have the hang of this so I'm just going to start typing and see where that leads me.

Today I realized that I don't have that seemingly infinite timespan between now and when I have to start growing up. I'm sixteen now, and that just seems so much older than 15, because now the Math tells me that I only have 2 years left until I'm a legal adult, and that just scares the hell out of me. Two years ago feels like yesterday and I'm worried that I've run out of time; That I've entered the game late. I have to seriously think about college now, I have to think about planning for the future and working for fruits that I won't receive instant gratification for, doing things for the future in spite of the present, fighting impulses really. I need to make that decision for what I want to do, go into Screenwriting? or maybe a Writer, a published author, maybe into Games Development... I've all of a sudden started worrying about whether I will be successful in life, I feel inferior to the mass competition nowadays, I feel that I haven't acted in the ways that I should to merit a path of success, I'm scared that I can't help but tread down to the mediocre when I feel I could do more. I don't want to have to look to the future, I don't want to have to sacrifice my present to have within my grasp security for the future. But I have to, and I just don't seem to be capable to make that switch.

Well, I wrote a bit. Um, saw Ninja Assassin on the 8th, my birthday. Pretty cool movie to go see with a bunch of dudes. Any movie that combines ninjas, tanks, sexual tension in the Europol Office and unrealistic ultra-violence has to be worth the tickets right?

Number 22

2009-02-27T04:39:00.000-08:00

"India is the 22nd most corrupt nation on earth."

Top 5 most corrupt countries on earth:

1) Somalia

2) Myanmar

3) Iraq

4) Haiti

5) Afghanistan

I cannot possibly imagine Somalia, when just yesterday my friend Pranav and I were walking down the road from a friend's complex looking to catch an auto, when we see three cops beating on an Auto Driver right out in the open at around 7:30pm.

We have no choice but to keep walking as the poor guy is being knocked around by our cities "Guards".

We keep walking, and we see an auto coming, and as we hop in we see it's the same guy! We asked him why and he told us that the cops stopped and demanded money from him, and when he refused they pulled him out of the auto and started hitting him.

That's just one story.

Another time, two of my friends got pulled over for a "Right Turn Signal Violation" and that the fine was an on the spot 2000 rupees. They refused and were pulled from the car and onto the street. One of the policemen filled a bucket of water and the police began to push their heads in and out of the water at high speed, torturing them like this for over an hour.

My friend was driving his girlfriend to the mall when the police pulled him over and claimed his girlfriend was a prostitute and began demanding a bribe. When my friend as usual, refused they once again, pulled him from the car and started screaming at him, throwing him around. They tore his wallet from his pants and took everything he had, including his school I.D.

Who do you call when the police are attacking you?

Mera Billie.

2009-02-26T05:56:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, my cat Lance died rather violently when he was killed by a dog. We hadn't been able to find him for a few days, but this was normal for him, as he would find a new hiding spot in which he would dwell in seclusion and stash his alcohol, tobacco, and firearms. After discarding of his narcotics and explaining to him the dangers of a meth lab in the house we would bathe him attention to make up the few days of little to no contact.

However, this day was different. We had been unable to find him and I woke up late after watching Rocky Balboa until early in the morning (Not worth it btw). The whole family, including our servant Ratnesh (@#$%) became scowering the house for him.

Just to go and check the most unlikely place, I decided to ask the Guard downstairs if he had seen a cat around. I went downstairs and asked if he had seen a cat in hindi. He nodded yes, and brought me to a closed gate by the inner stairs that looks out into the inner parking lot.

I saw him lying down.

I was ecstatic, I had found him. Everything was fine again. I ran around to the parking lot and I immediately noticed something wrong with the way he was sitting.

I picked him up and his entire abdomen was thickly coated with blood. It's the most horrifying image amongst the many strange things that fly around in the seafood gumbo that is my mind. I just remember seeing all that blood. It was a euphoric horror, an utter disbelief at what was happening. Tears were pouring from my eyes, screaming for Lance, terrified at what was happening. He was alive, but faint, it was by far the longest ride in the elevator I had ever had. I cradled him in my hands, trying to keep quiet for him, not to scare him. I wept and moaned, and cradled him. There was just... so, much, blood. His blood, the blood of the cat who I loved so much was all over my chest and arms. Finally, we reached the 14th floor, and I threw open the door and screamed through a choking throat,

"MOM WE HAVE TO GO TO A HOSPITAL, LANCE IS HURT"

My mom took him in his arms, and we ran downstairs. I looked at the guard and said,

"I'm going to @#$%ing kill you!" I was so angry, and I needed an outlet despite the fact that the Guard had done nothing wrong.

A very nice couple named Arun and Sherene offered us a ride to the closest clinic. They drove like mad, as my mom, Yu Yu (read my mom's blog), and I sat in the back. Arun was reassuring, telling us that it was going to be fine. When we got to the clinic at a nearby market, I sat in another part of the small pet treatment facility as they cleaned and wrapped his wounds.

People walking by the store stared at me as I was crying, I just gave them the dirtiest looks, the last thing I needed was to be judged.

After about 15 minutes, the doctors told us Lance needed to be taken to a bigger facility named Jeev Ashram Pet Sanctuary. We got back in the car, and drove for what felt like 2 hours to this place located in the middle of nowhere. We ran him in and said that our cat needed surgery. They took him into another room while I waited in the garden on a bench.

I have to say, Jeev Ashram is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. I watched young puppies and fully grown dogs running around in complete harmony. A beautiful peacock was in it's own open cage, with chipmunks and rabbits running around in the next. In the distance I could hear a beautiful pipe playing. I would later be told a pipe is played after the death of one of the animals.

I waited on the bench, my eyes releasing gallons of tears. The dogs were extremely friendly, and one exceptionally cute puppy caught my eye. A small, brown, dirty puppy hopping around seemed to embody the playful peace of mind of all children. No reason for the running, just enjoying it as he did it. An eastern-european nurse told my mom the puppy would pass away in a few days, as the mother had died and the puppy refused to eat at all.

I saw Lance for a split second and made eye contact with his dazed, unresponsive eyes through a window into the surgery room.

Finally, they bandaged him up and said to take him home with some medicine to be taken. Lance was immobile until the latter of the day in which he managed a struggling few steps. He was getting better! Thank god!

It was at night, when I went to bed, and my mom and Yu Yu were looking after him. In the middle of the night, Yu Yu woke me up,

"Will, Lance is gone."

Gone.

He is buried at Jeev Ashram.

Hinglish: In every sense and use of the word.

2009-02-12T05:54:00.000-08:00

"Circulatory system consist of two words which are cardiac; which are related to heart; which are related to arteries and veins."

"# of heartbeat per minute is called heartrate. It is differ from Man to Man."

"Stroke Volume: Is the total amount of blood pumped during the exercise it increases"

"It has been scientifically proven that men are better than women."

WTF?!?

Yes. That's my P.E teacher speaking. YES, TEACHER! Sad isn't it. He is supposedly a full qualified Physical Education teacher who has "Mastery of English". If he has 'Mastery' of English, then why does he feel so insecure that when we correct him on such errors he resorts to heavy doses of hindi swearing including the staple:

Chooprei (I can't spell Hindi. Mein Thoda Thoda Hindi Bol Sakta Hoon)

(Shut Up in Hindi...)

I hate this guy with a passion, he's a total moron. He thinks he's the greatest thing since the remote (notice the cliche evasion). He's a chubby, 5'2" single loser who can bench about 175. I'm thinner, faster, taller (6'1") and can bench 205. What can HE teach me?

And this moron can't spell for shit either, not to mention the horrifying handwriting. I recall one fateful day in which me, and the other two toothpicks in my class who opted for P.E were being forced to listen to this dick dictate, when he came on to teaching us about the

TRYcuspid and BYcuspid in the heart.

When my friend Raunaq said, "Sir, it's spelled T-R-I and B-I na?"

Abhishek Sir, his touchy spot having been aggravated (That being his Hinglish; "Cuz ain't nobody gonna fuck with his damn hinglish") rips his shirt off, revealing a lackluster, HAIRY, chubby body (this is when the horror music from Hitchcock's Psycho starts playing) and parades around the room asking us to feel his chest and biceps. I'm about 70% sure he doesn't have any Michael Jaskon-esque tendancies.

well, 60% sure.

GOD there's so much more.

My mom, on HER Blog, put up a post entitled, "My Son Thinks Indian's Can't Diss." I wasn't referring to ALL indians, (I AM NOT RACIST) I mainly meant the kids in my school. The insult's here are mostly translated from hindi into english.

But I DO have a point, as my mom stated on her post, I was arguing with my friend Kunal and I said "Suck ma ballsack" (immature, I know. But I'm 15 so you can suck my ballsack.) and he returned, " Come on, open it! You don't have the guts! I swear I'll suck it!"

Then again, that just might be the best comeback ever, for I was left utterly speechless.

It doesn't stop at Kunal, it continues to Raunaq, "I'll shave your head bitch!".

Finally, it's Sagar, who upon being called an ass says,

"Bitch I'll suck your cock!".

Popping the Post Cherry

2009-02-09T22:23:00.001-08:00

Hi,

This is my first blog post, and upon thinking about what topic was best suited to my first blog post (I mean come on, I live in freaking India, I've got a huge surplus of topics to choose from. But if George W. Bush were to take over my blog, I'd go from a surplus to huge topic deficit :D Good thing that moron's out. Glad he found the "Big Whirly Bird thingy").

Back to business.

Pay attention.

Anyways, I could either tackle a lighthearted, PG topic such as the cows, pigs, cats, dogs, and the rickshaw outside my house that looks just like (And I can't stress enough with the JUST LIKE) Bill Murray named Kumar, or I could move onto a much more meaningful topic such as the racism, lack of infrastructure (quoting my mom there) or the immense tendrils of corruption EVERYWHERE.

I think I'll dedicate this post to Abhishek Sir..... that @#$%ing idiot.

I go to a school named Suncity World School and it is the WORST school I've ever gone to. It's extremely expensive and is the archetype of the indian private school. At first glance everything looks nice, with all kinds of facilities and what not, but upon closer inspection is all completely half assed.

The formalities at this school are insane, they supress everyone's creativity and their desire to mold all of the students into one hiveminded automoton is more than disturbing. My P.E teacher, Abhishek Sir, (that's right. If you don't add sir you get in unneccessarily big trouble, an indian survey of what people want most out of their job is a title and respect, more than wage or benefits.) will soon be getting a post of his own. THAT will be the post that makes my blog, as well as my former art teacher.

Sorry I couldn't post more but I'm inexperienced with blogging and stuff.