Anecdote #52

Another week begins at Magdalene College. It is also my last week here, the days went by so fast that I wonder where the time went. I began a new course that week based on the history of espionage. The course sounded very fascinating and it was something I had never studied.The professor, Dr. David Fowler informed us that after the retirement of a scholar who specialised in teaching this course it was not even available at the undergraduate level.We felt very privileged to receive this opportunity of studying this unique course which very few people have access to! Dr. David Fowler floored us with his knowledge. He knew each and every detail related to the topic. From the lecture we gauged that most of the spies in the UK were recruited from Cambridge! These spies worked as codebreakers near Cambridge in a place called Bletchley Park.It was a surreal feeling to know that some of the sharpest and most dapper people in the world, possibly even the inspiration behind James Bond walked the same streets as us!The lecture left all of us intrigued and we couldn’t help but ponder over all the facts we had gone over in class.
This was one thing I couldn’t wrap my head around was the behaviour of Mr. Fowler. Though he had a phenomenal hold over the subject yet he was (if I had to be subtle) eccentric. 
During the lecture the two Americans in our class were seated right in front of him and he majorly spoke to them. The rest of us siting behind which consisted of only the Chinese and one Indian (ie me) were non existent to him.
At one point while he was explaining a concept he asked us to refer to youtube to watch videos related to it. Subsequently he looked at the Americans and said, “You guys can teach them how to use Youtube.”
Apart from them the class only had Asians. We immediately understood where he was coming from and what he had implied intentionally or unintentionally. All of us exchanged glances of shock and disappointment.
I firmly resolved that I wouldn’t participate in his class henceforth.

 
It was that day I realised how it felt to be treated unequally.

As I had afternoon classes, it was five by the time we got free. I decided to go for a stroll to Jesus Greens with Urmeen and Manmeen. I told them all that had happened. 
They did not let me be upset for too long as they kept my mind preoccupied with their humour. The next thing I knew, we were back to our favourite hobby, cracking jokes.
Incidentally that day the table tennis playing area was empty. We couldn’t contain our excitement as it is was always occupied. 
Seizing this golden opportunity we played for quite sometime while playing Hindi music. 
The fun and games kept my mind engaged and I forgot about what had happened.

That day when I went back to my room the only thing I was upset about was my dorm. How I wished I lived in Cripps Court. The evenings always felt like an abrupt goodbye because I had to leave my friends early to go back to my dorm. I wanted to sit and chat with them, discuss every part of my experiences in detail. Though I gave them an inkling about how I felt, I never truly admitted to it. I was afraid that if I said it out loud, the loneliness I was repressing would emerge out of the shadows.

I did not know then that the next day would bring a solution to this problem too.

Stay tuned to find out how.

Anecdote #51

We got an entirely free day! On Sunday we got the freedom to explore Cambridge ourselves. 
In the morning we began with shopping for our family. Cambridge is typically not a place for shopping but it had some boutique brands which are not easily  available in India. 
In the summer a lot of the stores provide stupendous discounts. Taking advantage of this we spent generously and bought quite a few goodies.
Although it had only been a week in Cambridge, home food was something I missed dearly. I was determined to hunt down an Indian restaurant today and eat there. Fortunately, there was one in Regent Street called, “Tiffin Truck.” I am delighted to say that the food was pretty authentic and all of us Indians wiped our plates clean.
Subsequently we went for a stroll on Regent street. We spotted Downing College and went inside to check it out. It was absolutely mesmerising with expansive gardens and romanesque architecture. Personally my it was favourite college in Cambridge. There was also an exhibition going on there by a Japanese artist called Yoko. It was a unique experience for us and the people showing us around were really warm. At the end of the display there was a tree where we were supposed to tie a tag with a wish written on it. I was very fascinated with this and wrote down a one as a memory.
Regent street was a long walk from Magdalene College from where our programme ran. We desperately some rest after our morning adventures. 
The closest option was to sit down on the vibrant and grassy grounds of Trinity Garden. This was modelled on the same lines as Jesus Gardens, covering a huge area endowed with greenery. It was the ideal place to rest. Although every thing was going well that day, including the food, shopping and surrounding something felt amiss. 
We had not seen Danny and there was a certain emptiness we felt upon being unable to meet him. Who do we make fun of now?  At who’s expense do we laugh now? 
We decided not to disturb him and reminisced the jokes we had cracked at his expense over the course of the last few days.
It was only the next day that we realised he was much worse off than us. Apparently he was at six hours at one pub whiling away time. The poor man was allergic to alcohol and hence he had to sip on hot chocolate as he had no alternative.
Like I said Danny’s antics never led us to believe that he was the Junior Dean. When he narrated the sad story of his Sunday we only laughed at his face.

Afterwards the next thing we decided to do was tour the prestigious campus of King’s College. 
We had been informed by our Programme Advisors that we should tell the porters of the college that we are prospective students to get free entry. This was imperative because the entry fee was twenty pounds. Naturally after all the money we had spent that day, the former option felt the most feasible. 
What we didn’t anticipate though was how the porter would behave with us. When we told him we were prospective students, which we quite evidently were (Why else would we come for a summer programme? ). Just to trouble us this man claimed he did not believe us and had the audacity to say “convince me.”
When he said those words my blood started boiling. I replied spontaneously, “You should convince us, we’ll be paying you money to study here.”
That seemed to sort him out because all of a sudden there was a shift in his attitude.
He too realised like the ladies from the Italian restaurant of the previous day that we weren’t afraid to speak up.

Suffice to say that the tour to King’s College didn’t go as expected. We had felt let down due to this experience. Yet we were not those kind of people who would let others ruin our happiness. After all we were Punjabis at heart.
 To brighten our mood we decided to head to Aromi. 
Aromi was hands down our most favourite place in Cambridge. It was introduced to me by my friend’s brother who had stopped in his tracks while he was giving a short tour of the City. He swore by their Gelato and said that he had never had anything quite like it before. Apart from the authentic Italian Gelato they offered many other amazing lip smacking Italian classics. Interestingly they had only one outlet in the whole of UK, in the heart of Cambridge. 
It’s safe to say he was absolutely right. The pistachio gelato which I ate loyally could never be matched by any other restaurant. We had been to other Italian cafes as well but the consistency, texture and taste of their Gelato was unmatched. It was as though the flavours in our mouths were right out of Italy.  
After gobbling up the delightful Gelatos our heads had cooled down and now we were only discussing how much we loved Aromi.

By the evening we were still facing the repercussions of having a heavy meal in the after noon and of course the after effects of our indulgence at Aroma. We could not eat a full meal again so I choose to have a hotpot soup at an Asian place called “Itsu.” It was just what I needed and now I was ready to hit the sack. 
As I lay in bed, I had a huge smile on my face because I was very pleased with the day I had. Apart from the laughs Manmeen, Urmeen and I were sharing experiences. Our friendship was getting stronger by the day but we did not feel so because the process happened organically and seamlessly. They were my home away from home. With them the bad days became good and I didn’t miss home as badly anymore.

Anecdote #50

Ever since we arrived, Saturday was one day that was always on our mind. It was not only our day off but we were going to London for an excursion. All of us were pumped in the morning to explore the capital of United Kingdom. It was my third time in the UK so it was not London that had got me excited. I was looking forward to experience London with Manmeen and Urmeen. I knew that together we’d manage to cook up a storm there too!A coach was booked for all the students going to London. Apart from London there were excursions to Stratford-Upon-Avon and The Great Yarmouth. London was an hour and a half long ride from our accommodation. We left around 9 AM and I have to admit, the beautiful countryside provided the most pleasing background.The ride felt so tranquil that Urmeen and I slept for a good hour. Though the motorways brought us to the City in an hour, the traffic within London was ruthless and we only got off at 12. 

The coach stopped at the designated spot and a tour of the city was what we started with. We covered a large part of central London on foot and got to hear interesting anecdotes related to monumental structures such as the Buckingham Palace. The tour ended conveniently at Oxford street. The only problem was we had covered the entire area of central London on foot and it was 2 PM by the time the tour guide left us. The entire distance we covered on foot that day was 14 km (as read on our smartphones). The next half of the story will help you understand why.

At Oxford Street we were desperately looking for a place to eat. We are fussy eaters and our minds and hearts were set on eating at a good Italian restaurant. We began searching Oxford street for one. I think you may have a question, why weren’t we using the internet? Well my friends had finished their top up of 20 pounds in just two days and my Data pack only had the first 5 GB free for the entire trip. 
On our search for a place to eat we made a stop at Kingdom of Sweets. I was so famished that I started picking candies and began gobbling them at the store hoping no one would spot me. My friends decided to exit the store quickly. After all it would be embarrassing to get arrested over  candy.
The trip to Kingdom of sweets turned out to be fruitful because finally we found a good looking place.

The restaurant, Granoia was established in 1874 and offered a fine dining experience. 
We did not think twice before going there as we had eaten out at fine dining restaurants several times back home but apparently the hosts had a problem.
Our Indian accents had given us away and the hosts acting extremely high handed. They gave us a table with extreme difficulty. 
They had problem with attaching an extra chair to a two seater table which they had given to other customers. Alternatively we asked to be seated at a 5 seater table which honestly was not big enough accommodate five people but again, they refused. By this time we were irritated, I finally told asked them with a whiff of anger, “It seems as though you don’t like having customers at your restaurant.”
This did the trick. They realised that we were not afraid to speak up.

We ordered our food at last and it was exactly what we were craving, authentic Italian food. We’ll always remember that restaurant for their wonderful but small portions and the bad ambience.

After lunch we realised that we were not left with much time. It was quarter to three and our coach would leave at four from the designated spot which was half an hour away.

Our minds were set on shopping but our destiny was not the right accompaniment. The purpose of coming to London was leisurely spending time at Hugo, Massimo and shopping at these luxury brands during the season of discounts and offers. Now, window shopping was our only option as there was no time to try on stuff. Coming in and out of Massimo Dutti, looking at the rare bargains and not being able to buy anything due to the lack of time was the most heartbreaking.

We thought of consoling ourselves with a Gelato and ran to the closest store. Sadly it was packed and so crowded that we decided to not risk it and head back. By now it was almost 330 and we were nowhere close to Victoria Garden, from where our coach was leaving. 

Danny who was sent with students was irresponsible enough to leave us go.
There was only one option. R U N.
 
The scene was as follows, three young girl sprinting through the streets of London jumping red lights as if it they were in their common neighbourhood. 

Naturally like anyone else in the world jumping red lights was the highlight of the day for us. It was our source for cheap thrills and the adrenaline pumped through our body uncontrollably such that bouts of laughter were inevitable. 
At this point of the story let me give you a health warning, laughing and running can be the most exhausting exercise in the world. It is cardio at it’s best.

Our touristy spirit fortunately or unfortunately was still undiminished. When we saw a palace guard on a horse in the street, we made sure to stop and get our pictures clicked. You could call us daredevils for playing with time. 
Thankfully, when we reached the last leg and we increased our speed and reached Victoria guard with everything except our breath. Danny stood there nonchalantly with no sympathy. We asked him were the coach was and guess what, it was late!

The entire experience of London with my friends was not only fun but deepened our bonds. When you learn to laugh freely without any inhibitions with, you finally let loose. The unison of our laughs still rings vividly in my ears.
The way we talked about London from that day onwards made us feel that some part of London was our’s too, etched securely in our hearts.

Anecdote #49

It was Assessment day today! All of us were a bundle of nerves in the morning as we were anxious to do well. Thankfully as it was in the morning hence the stress was short-lived. 

It was the first time I was giving a test without my entire support system that is the Malhotras. Mom or Dad always sent the driver who would drop me to college. Then I would call them  to inform them that I had reached. After settling in the examination hall I would call my grandparents who told me to relax and assured me that I had their blessing. Finally I would call my parents again just before we had to keep away our phone and start the examination.

That day in I walked from  accommodation to Cripps Court for breakfast as usual but it felt unusual to not have the same test day drill as the one back home. When I sat down at the breakfast table I remembered how at times I got so anxious during exams that I went to school on an empty stomache. I remembered how my mom tried to make me laugh before my board exams, cracking nonsensical jokes to keep me from stressing. She would take a holiday from office and created a highly conducive environment while not exercising any kind of pressure on me. That day I missed and reminisced those moments repeatedly.I wanted to do my parents proud today and prayed that I would not forget the complicated theories of International Security.While these thoughts were racing through my mind Urmeen and Manmeen came and sat on the dining table. They had a class presentation instead of a test. They told me that a group member of their’s, a boy from Mexico had not sent in the work and their presentation was only half an hour away. Somehow the seriousness of the situation had not settled in because instead of worrying we started cracking jokes at his expense. We had never seen him at the mess so we conjured some crazy theories about his absence. The hysteria that came with laughter started peaking and we were in splits. Incidentally it was at this very moment that this guy decided to walk in. Despite coming in this he was oozing with confidence telling their group how well they’d do. I was amazed at his guts. Firstly this guy had vanished, not sent his work on time and was really late and now he was acting like he had everything together. I had not yet recovered from the laughing spell so experienced my amazement decided to express itself through laughter. The Mexican guy must have wondered what was wrong with me. As I kept looking at my friends, their laughs further instigated me further. This went on until it was time to give the test.

The best part was that this laughing spree chased away my anxiety completely and I gave the test with a calm head. I was able to tackle the tough questions and when the test was over I rushed to my friends.Incidentally, I found them with Danny Pan the Junior Dean of the programme. He was telling them about his family in China and how strict his father was. When he saw me he immediately remembered meeting my father who had reprimanded him badly the day I had received my accommodation. In my father’s defence he was trying to get me a room in Cripp’s Court. Danny then asked all three of us if our fathers hit any of us. We were shocked that he even asked such a question and refuted it vehemently. Turns out, Danny had been slapped a lot as a kid by his father but he was talking about it quite humorously so Manmeen remarked casually, “Your father must have played squash on your face.” After that comment it was natural that the three of us started laughing uncontrollably, yet again.

Now all we wanted to do now was celebrate that the assessment was over.The Programme Organisers had made sure of that as we had sports later in the day. The venue was the very beautiful and aesthetic garden ‘Jesus Greens.’ Although it is a garden it is huge, lined with lush trees. Provisions for different kinds of sports were made available hence we could play as per our preference. My friends and I played football and naturally we were on Danny’s team.  Sadly he abandoned us in the middle as he began clicking pictures of everybody. You could say that the loss was on Danny. 

Post games, in the evening we had more activities planned but the one everyone was the most excited about was the pub crawl.  As we had gone out for shopping and gelato right after sports we had not changed and were still in our athletic attires. We had made it just in time for the pub crawl so while the others were formally dressed in shirts, dresses, heels we were in our tracksuits.I told my friends that they should not worry, after all athleisure is currently trending.Needless to say we burst into laughter again and that was the mood for the evening. After all being teetotallers we had to keep ourselves engaged while everyone was chugging their pints.

There we were in a pub in Cambridge having hot chocolate but acting like the drunkest people in the house.It was by far the best day.

Anecdote #48

Laundry Time

The warm and bright sun shone upon Cambridge today. It was our last class for Approaches to International Security in the 21st Century and we had an assessment the next day. We were given revision time from 9 to 12 in the day and hence the first half of the day went in preparation for the assessment. After lunch we had our last session for the week. Doubts were cleared and we also had an informal interaction with our professor, Dr. Ayse Zarakol. It was extremely gracious of her to create an environment where we could raise our doubts anytime and encouraged discussions in the class.

Today was a unique for another reason. I did my own laundry for the very first time! Although it does not seem to be an immense achievement, it was definitely empowering to be self sufficient. My laundry story was an interesting one too. The Indian girl next door had promised that we’d do laundry together. That morning I had confirmed with her that we would go to Benson court (a beautiful complex where accommodation had been arranged but we were not lucky enough to get it) where the laundry room was. On the first day she had been sweet enough to say that I did not have to buy detergent as she had brought some with her. After classes I called her up to do laundry and it turns out she had gone for shopping and wouldn’t be back anytime soon. 

Honestly I was a little irritated. I had a test the next day and wanted to get done with the laundry as fast as I could. With her gone now I would have waste another twenty minutes in getting the detergent. More than the detergent I was relying upon her support to help me with the machine, after all it was my first time. Yes I have never washed my clothes in my life. Heck I didn’t even fold them myself. This made me more anxious about the laundry than test on the following day. When I reached the supermarket to buy the detergent, I found out that in the UK Ariel detergent (which I use at home) is available in the form of pods which apparently disintegrated in the tumbler. It was madly perplexing, I had never seen this before and spent a good ten minutes mulling over the packaging.

Why is God taking the test of my life I thought to myself. Even the detergent was not normal. As I was at the cashier thinking about video calling mom from the laundry room for help it suddenly struck me that Xintong lived in Benson! I rang her up quickly and she was extremely forthcoming.The moment I walked inside she rushed and carried my laundry bag, she could see that I was struggling. This small act of kindness helped me get over my woes.Though she too was a novice like me, she was kind enough to ask her friend how to use the machine and taught me. I was full of gratitude and deep in my heart felt that she was God sent.

The clothes were in the machine now and there was some time to kill. I couldn’t study in the laundry room so the natural alternative was to call each member of my family and tell them about my astonishing feat. I know it was rather silly of me but I felt a sense of freedom, accomplishment and empowerment. 

After successfully phoning all the Malhotras and taking out my clothes from the washing machine, dryer and folding them methodically I headed for dinner.I shared my adventures for the day with my friends and by now I was laughing about the entire experience. It’s funny how a bit of time can change your perspective. The chore had started out as a challenge but became memorable by the end of it.

I was thoroughly satisfied with day and I realised that being in Cambridge taught me how productive I could be in a day and balance studies with chores. From being a damsel in distress and having no knowledge of house chores, I was improving and that did wonders for my confidence.

Anecdote #47

Let’s Punt!

Cambridge apart from it’s academic excellence is famous for one more thing that is, Punting. It is essentially the same as rowing. To define it in exact terms, punting consists of a long, narrow boat with a flat bottom and square edges and it is moved by a person standing at one end who pushes the bottom of the river with a pole. At first I when I observed others doing this I felt that it would be very simple but I was proven wrong. 

There were two main templates available. Either you do it yourself or you get a professional punter and enjoy the enchanting scenery surrounding River Cam. Naturally we were students hence we were not awarded this luxury. There were five of us in that boat and we took turns at the activity. As all my class mates were able to do it, though with some difficulty, I was very confident that I would be able to pull it off too. I climbed on to the elevated portion and pushed the pole into the shallow bed of Cam. As soon as I pulled it out the boat began to shake. Screams erupted and the boat could have turned upside down. Everyone urged me to step down but my overconfidence was undeterred, I assured everyone that it would be fine and kept at it. 

Ironically and not so ironically in I caused an accident and the boat crashed into a tree that had submerged into the water. The branches of the tree and the filthy leaves engulfed the boat. With great difficulty we emerged out like nomads from a cave pulling away the branches from our faces. We thought that the calamity was but the damages became more severe.While I was thanking my stars that I didn’t wash my hair that very day, Robin, a Dutch boy from my class had taken pictures of the entire fiasco. He told me that the pictures would be on Facebook, I retorted by saying that I wasn’t on it. Wittily he replied by saying, now I would be.

Whatever said and done the entire experience was extremely memorable. From being too scared to sit in the boat to crashing it, I had evolved plenty in that very short period of time. 

Later in the evening when I sat down on the dinner table with all the other people from India we began sharing our anecdotes from the day. As they were studying Business their slot for punting was different from mine. Urmeen and Manmeen interacted with me properly for the first time that day. Before that we had only exchanged pleasantries. 

Manmeen shared that they had gotten one guy from their class to punt for two hours. The docile fellow was too shy to say anything and his hands were brick red by the end of it. The humorous incident left us in splits. Laughter is contagious and when I start laughing I usually go on for at least an hour. Jokes start oozing out of me like I was born to crack jokes. I am very critical of people’s sense of humour (not really, Kapil is my only benchmark) and I felt that both the sisters were on the same wave length as I was.

One thing led to the other and we began chatting about Kabir Singh and simultaneously about a Chinese couple in their class where the boyfriend carried the girl’s handbag all the time. Spontaneously I said so he was more befitting as Preeti and the girl was his Kabir Singh. That made no one else on the table but the three of us hysterical. We just could not stop laughing.

The connection had been made and sealed. Consequentially, there was an evening talk that day where we sat next to each other. Every time we glanced at each other, we ended up in splits uncontrollably. It was comforting to be at ease with people and I could not care less about embarrassment.

The humour and laughter proved to be the best medicine that night and I slept comparatively better. I was more at home now and while I lay in bed I could only look forward to meeting my new friends the next day.

Anecdote #46

Things start getting better now!

6:00 AMMy eyes were wide open. I sat upright on my bed without a hint of laziness. I immediately remembered a recent interview given by the Prime Minister where he said that as soon as he wakes up, he is up and about with no desire of going back to bed. So this is what he feels like I thought to myself. You see, waking up early for me was an accomplishment as back at home everyone took turns to drag me out of bed.Honestly speaking I had a clear motive. My father had shared with me once that during his days in the army he woke up at dawn so that he could access the toilets while they were clean. Like father, like daughter. I was satisfied with my accomplishment for the day and got ready for breakfast to Cripps Court. On my way I passed St.John’s Chapel which was a beautiful sight to pass by. The tall structures of the Medieval times seemed royal and it was a delight to see them in person. The morning was chilly, I lifted the jacket’s hood onto my head. I wondered where this sudden rush of wind was coming from. The canal running under me seemed to be the most probable cause. The cold water was the source for the wind yet I had to admit that it was a picturesque sight. What struck me the most was that the water body was algae less and this one tree bent into the water with a certain grace. Whenever I crossed this bridge I was standing on, I admired this tree from the corner of my eye. It’s lush greenness and flexibility was unique to me.

 Enjoying the walk, I reached for breakfast in seven to eight minutes. I settled for milk, a banana and bread. Being a vegetarian I had limited options but since I cannot start my day without milk I was happy that my most staple requirement was available in hot and cold versions.
 As I had afternoon classes, every morning was lined up with an activity. On this day we had a tour planned for all the colleges in Cambridge and the tour guide was an alumna of Cambridge University. 
Before we went out for the tour, our orientation took place. All the students from my class were seated there. Out of the 40 of them, 35 were Chinese and the rest were from Europe and America. I was the only Indian in my course.
I was skeptical of making any friends in my class. The Chinese just hung out with each other and  the case was the same with the other students from their respective countries.
I was trying to prepare myself mentally to not mind being alone when a Chinese girl approached me. Her name was Xintong Chen. The next moment she told me I could call her Alexandra. In China every person was given an English name with the Chinese one, she explained. I told her I would refer to her as Xintong only and I have still kept my promise. 
Xintong was my first friend. Throughout the course of the day she gave me company and was extremely open minded when we discussed matters related to her country. Behind her short hair and bangs were her expressive eyes. When she smiled, they too gleamed. There was a genuine warmth in Xintong and she stuck with me through all the classes and excursions we had together. Though language was some times a barrier between us, we understood one another and even the silences were comfortable.
It was from this day onwards that Cambridge slowly started to grow on me. My health was also improving and in the following days so would my accompany. In that time I could never imagine how the days would unfold.
 You might not believe it when I say this but in the coming time my life would seem straight out of a comedy movie. At this point of the story we are about to reach the climax, when my core Punjabiness would reveal itself in Cambridge.

Anecdote #45

Day 2

In continuation with where I left off, I was not in the best of health. I did not carry too many antacids because honestly acidity, heartburn was a problem that I had not come across in my life. I knew I was in a position where I had to replenish the stock of those medicines so I went to the pharmacy. Unfortunately I went to the swankiest of them all which was Boots. I walked up to them very casually and asked them for my medicine. Their reaction was unexpected and jolting, they asked where the prescription was. I was taken aback. I had asked for a generic medicine and in India a prescription would never be demanded for it. How was I to get a Doctor’s prescription in Cambridge!

The stroke of bad luck made me feel dejected and I went back. As I was walking back falling into this pit of self-pity, I stopped in my tracks. I thought to myself who in the world gets the opportunity to spend a summer in Cambridge. I should not waste time complaining and try to remedy the situation.

 There was a sudden switch in my thinking and I got clarity.

First I decided to take everything that was happening around me lightly. I was in one of the most developed countries of this world there had to be a way where I could get my medicine. Clarity struck me and I recalled that I had seen an Indian looking man at a herbal pharmacy on my way to Boots. With some hope I walked into his shop. He only had natural medication which I had no knowledge about and had never taken. He sensed how I was feeling.

Miraculously he shared a trick with me. He told me to visit Superdrug, a more affordable drug store. The antacids, he said would be available on the aisles. Subsequently he finally shared the secret sauce, do not get it billed at the pharmaceutical section of the store, instead he told me to get it billed at the cosmetic section.

The trick worked!

For me that man is truly an angel. I do not know his name or his story, I did not even buy a thing from his store yet he was kind enough to empathise with my circumstances and lent a helping hand. It was on this day that I actually started to learn the meaning of the word gratitude.

The rest of the day was a breeze, I attended my classes had my meals and talked to a few people from different countries. It was very cordial but I had not found people with whom I struck a chord. It was only at dinner that I saw a two Indians, twins. Ah to see people from my country! I did not know how to approach them and at the time my mind was preoccupied with thoughts of home and my health.

In that moment I was unaware of the role they’d play in my stay. I only knew their names- Manmeen and Urmeen. I felt a strange kind of affinity, I couldn’t fathom what the feeling was.

Time would slowly unravel how they went on to become my best friends and my biggest support system.

Anecdote #44

Day 1 in Cambridge

I was in London for two days before my programme began in Cambridge. It was not until my father dropped me that it hit me. I was going to be living alone for the next two weeks in a foreign country without Mama or Papa.

I had gone to Cambridge for a summer programme to get an idea about education abroad. The entire affair affirmed my belief that unless and until you don’t experience it first hand, you can never truly know how it feels like to study abroad. I was going to study history, the same subject I am currently pursuing in India. 

Let’s go back to the beginning of that day, Sunday the 7th of July 2019. We reached the City of Cambridge at 2:20. First we went to Cripps Court which served as a hostel, mess, a place where the classes were held and where the office was. After registering successfully it was time for me to receive my accommodation. Surprisingly, it was a five minute walk from Cripps Court. It was off campus. As a girl who had never lived outside her home, who never went for school trips, I was scared. I could not show it to my father hence I kept a straight face. It was a rare occasion where I did not blurt out the first thought that came to my mind to him. I am like that with my parents, being an only child I am extremely close to them.  

My father dropped me to my accommodation which was in a vibrant lane close to the heart of the city. I was on the top floor of my building, virtually living in an attic. There was a Chinese restaurant on the ground floor and I could hear all the noises from the street.

By this time I was surpressing the fear and anxiety.

The most vivid memory I have from that day is Papa returning from Cripps Court after he tried his level best to change my accommodation. I knew I could not be disheartened in front of him, especially when he had to be leaving. The words I wanted to say were Papa please take me back home but he funded everything, every bit of the trip. It would be unfair on my part to act so selfish. I hugged him and the tears rolled down helplessly. To make up for this cowardice I lied to him, I told him I would manage on my own though in my heart I did not know how I would do that. The next part was the hardest face timing Mama with a straight face. Thankfully I managed to do that by keeping it short. Every time I reassured her by saying that I would be fine I was actually bolstering my own confidence. It felt strange to keep something from her, it was as though I was talking to a relative not my mom.

What came next kept me distracted for sometime. My friend from India had sent a package for his brother who is currently studying in the UK. He had previously studied in Cambridge and he was kind enough to give me and the girl living in the next room a tour of the central part of Cambridge. He went over all the good places to eat, the drugstore, grocery store and a few of the famous colleges. I mentally thanked God. It was a much needed tour after all I was living all alone I had to take care of myself. 

All the walking around, jet lag and non home food I had consumed left me feeling sick that evening. It was a tricky situation because I had to ask Mama what medicine I should take without letting her know how uncomfortable I was. She told me take an antacid but I was feeling so unwell that I had to take two antacids and even then I was uncomfortable the whole night.

The only source of strength for me was my prayer and my God. I could not sleep the whole night and continued to pray the entire time. My condition could easily worsen but God gave me the strength to recover and keep myself composed.

Thankfully the toughest day was over.

Anecdote #43

Bittersweet

I remember the first time I had coffee. I must have been all of 8 or 9 years old. We were at an Italian restaurant in Defence Colony called, "Flavours." It became the standard place we'd visit for family meals. My grandfather loves desserts and it was unsaid that a cheesecake would follow the meal. As a side note I think they made the best cheesecake in Delhi.

It was after one such meal that my grandfather decided to give company to the cheesecake with a cup of cappuccino. Like other children of my age I too was fascinated by 'coffee,' a hot beverage that smelled delicious yet at that time I did not know how deceiving my olfactory senses were.

My grandfather was silent, it was late I thought he would be tired yet there was an aura of warmth around him.

The cup of coffee arrived and he took the first sip. He was seated next to me and grasped my curiosity. He asked me to take a sip. I was nervous, slightly apprehensive as I didn't know whether it would be too hot and so I was afraid that I would burn my lip. I didn't anticipate the fact that the taste would turn out to be the primary problem. The unpredictability of circumstances still astonishes me.

The very first sip is till date a fresh memory. I still remember the bitterness of the scantily sugared cappuccino hitting my palate. I was determined not to take another sip. My grandfather read my expression and said something I will always remember, "It gets better with each sip." And it did.

My father was transferred to Bombay when I was five years old but my mother and I continued living in Delhi. He would come back on the weekends but we didn't get enough time to bond. I remember asking my mother about his likes and dislikes. I tried sending him a postcard where I attempted to make his portrait and I fought with my mother because I didn't like the way she guided me to draw his hair. His approval at that time was paramount. 

We went to visit him in Bombay where he lived in a beautiful house at Pali Hill. My mother had some official work there hence my father and I got ample quality time. She had gone out for a meeting one afternoon and my father and I were at home. He decided to take me out for an ice-cream. Between both my parents, my father was the storyteller and I think that part of him is still very imminent. In most of his made up tales the protagonist aka me turned up at the ice-cream parlour. Hence it seemed apt to go there. The shop was beside the beach on Carter Road. Like every time I asked for a scoop of chocolate ice-cream. Mama told me that Papa's favourite flavour was mango I thought but surprisingly he asked for coffee ice-cream. He finished my leftovers and his own scoop on the way back. It was then that I was intrigued by this thing called coffee. "Papa likes it so it must be good" I thought.

Presently I enjoy a good cup of coffee. I'd choose it over tea any day. I add half a spoon of it to my cup of milk everyday to make it palatable. I happened to chance upon the origin of this habit of drinking coffee. It had started growing on me long before my dislike for my milk. How strange is it that we are at times clueless about how certain habits grow on us and what meaning they hold for us. Inconsequential things prove to have a very deep meaning over a passage of time.

Anecdote #42

The Misadventure at Mecca

When you are a student at Delhi University, you are eventually pressurised into attending college fests. In my case it was my father who had attended all of them back in his day and was appalled on knowing that I had only been to one. Which was the fest of my own college.

Hindu College's fest- Mecca is known to be a lot of fun and it coincided with a relatively free period of my life. So the plan was made and here I introduce to you the other protagonist of this story, apart from me of course- Aanya.

 We agreed to leave after our classes ended and according to the plan we would have a few other friends accompanying us. Post all the planning, D-day arrived and I felt a gush of excitement. I put in the extra effort, woke up early and managed to pull together a very sanskari look topping it with a bindi which did not match my outfit. Do pay attention to this fact as the bindi was the starting point for the misadventures that followed.

On reaching college we found out that one of our friends was not in the mood to go and the other had not turned up to college. This was a bummer for me and I could only think of how all the effort I had put into getting ready was turning out to be futile. Before our last class for the day began, I contemplated on whether or not we should go. Somewhere in the middle of Ancient Rome the Octavian in me rose and I mustered up the courage to leave the class right in the middle with Aanya.

 I knew that if I would have backtracked my parents would be greatly disappointed and I would be at the receiving end of a lecture with an end result of being labelled as boring. Mind you I am anything but boring and taking the plunge that day turned out to be the biggest source of adrenaline for all the dancing I was going to do. 

The great escape from the class was followed by a long drive to North Campus full of stimulating discussions. Aanya and I make great company, especially for each other. The drive did not seem too long as we were very engrossed in our conversation. All this talking naturally made us tired and we settled on dessert to make up for the energy we had lost. After a modest helping of churros at Sambooka's, one of the better cafe's of North Campus, the next stop was Hindu. Before we went it was imperative to get the right Bindi so the hunt began. The Bindis of the street vendor were not good enough so we went further and finally found a shop which had the right colour- black. Yes, it was that hard for us to find a plain black bindi at North campus. After successfully completing the conquest for this little cosmetic item we finally decided to go.

Fate had other plans because while walking towards the car my beloved kolhapuris gave up on me. In other words my desi footwear broke which means I could not walk. Now the hunt for a cobbler began. Thankfully my car was parked close by and we could look for the cobbler in the comfort of the car yet the loss of the slippers was hard hitting. For me it was the equivalent of an heirloom from my mother as their versatility complemented all my ethnic outfits and at the same time whenever someone asked me where I purchased them from, my smug reply would be- they're my mom's. I knew I had to get them fixed because no other chappals could ever fill in the void. I am extremely grateful to God that we found a cobbler within the next few minutes who did a seamless job for 10 rupees only.

Now I thought we are finally ready to go and we did reach Hindu although there were plenty of signs that it was not meant to be. Both of us had friends there and we met them and conversed for a while. Ultimately we decided to meet up later in the concert arena once the performances would begin. With the help of my friend Shantnu who is a student at Hindu I could cut across the long queue and I was inside with his friends. The performance was by the dynamic duo- Vishal & Shekhar a treat for bollywood fans like me.

The performance had started and I was not able to get through to Aanya. Amidst the loud music it was hard to communicate. The calls were not going through to her as it turns out that the college had some jammers in place because of which we were helpless. 

In such desperate times our saving grace was the original text message. Although we received sparse reception the text messages managed to get through. Fending for herself Aanya procured a badge from someone in the organising committee and made it! 

We thought that this would entail the end of our troubles and together made most of the concert. There's nothing like good Bollywood music. It gets you pumped but you also lose track of time. We stayed till the last song and that was a fallacy on our part. By the time we left the exits were congested. The driver could not bring the car at the front gate owing to the traffic. We had to navigate and look for the car amidst the huge rush and poor reception. After fifteen minutes of helpless searching we found bhaiya and Aanya, Shantnu, his friend Priyanka and I hoped to reach home safe and sound. 

The way back was the climax to all the problems. The route bhaiya wanted to take had been barricaded and he was trying to find his way back. He refused to take help from Google Maps and that was his greatest downfall. Fifteen minutes into losing our way he finally consented. The funny part is that the route suggested was via the Department of forest and Wildlife. Now let me describe that route, it was a narrow road which could accommodate one car and seemed like an avenue due to the number of trees surrounding it. To top all of this Bhaiya was speeding like there was no tomorrow and we would not have seen tomorrow if a vehicle would have approached us from the opposite end. It was a typical road trip out of a movie. The fear was real but it was more thrilling than frightening. 

We encountered an isolated Sadar Bazaar, a large gutter which I thought was a pond and an abandoned route.

In sometime we could spot the traffic and were back on track. We were extremely late, famished yet the misadventures were unforgettable. That is precisely why I could reproduce this day without a hiccup in my memory. I think I speak for all of us when I say that it was worth it. If I had been in the company of some others this probably would not have been a fond memory but in this case everyone involved made this experience memorable. No other fest can be as eventful as Mecca was for us and it is a story we will be narrating for the years to come.

Anecdote #41

Travelling by autos has become a part and parcel of my college life. Both my parents take both the drivers with them to their respective workplaces leaving me on my own to fend for myself. As a school student I was not allowed to take the auto due to my over protective family but they realised that it was practically impossible to arrange the car for me everyday. Thus it began.
Initially I was thrilled because it gave me a sense of freedom but gradually as the seasons changed, going for 8:45 lectures in the morning became harder. The cold breeze and unexpected showers worsened the conditions. 

A plausible solution to this was taking an uber but spending 300 rupees everyday on transport alone was not appeasing to my student budget especially when the quality of the cabs are questionable. Some cabs have their interiors modelling on a temple other times the drivers like playing blaring punjabi music and many refuse to switch on the air conditioner/heaters.

Keeping all this in mind autos seem like the best alternative but here's the catch, the auto as a vehicle is not the problem but the guy whose driving it is.
I have encountered many auto drivers, some are genuinely decent but these rare gems are far and few.
The others, well I have no words for them.
Firstly thanks to Jaitley ji the two thousand rupee has caused a lot of commotion in my life. Each month when I receive my allowance I sincerely pray to God that it doesn't consist of 2000 rupee notes at any cost.
During one auto ride I informed the precariously driver that I had a 500 hundred note beforehand because they tend be very short tempered with respect to this issue. He did not refuse to take me but decided to take a detour and took me to a petrol station to get change . As you may have guessed I was late to class that day. 

Honestly, the worst part is the fear of pick pockets. Every time I spot a man on a motorcycle I clutch my bag close to my heart and experience a mild version of a panic attack. An experience which taught me to be extremely cautious was when I was travelling with my friends and a snatcher came out of nowhere and tried to steal my friend's phone but thankfully the attempt failed. Needless to say he and his friends greeted us with whistles. They were not discrete to say the least.

My coping mechanism is that I am hoping that all these experiences  are a means for my karmic redemption. They sure have taught me to do unto others what you wish others do unto you.

I do realise that  autos can be a pain but cars and drivers are a luxury, despite this you will get sick of the bargaining because let's face it the auto wale bhaiya will never learn. 

At the same time don't worry there will come a time in your life when you will encounter a bhaiya who goes by the meter and you will pay the right price. And I promise you in that moment you will experience sheer, unadulterated joy!

Anecdote #40

Last year a new person entered my life. Let me rephrase that, this person entered my daily life, is responsible for making my life easier and is someone who I literally cannot live without. She is my help at home, Lily Didi.
During most times she lives in her own world or in the world of her mobile phone. She has given my entire family many laughable moments and has become irreplaceable.
She is not very sharp, extremely forgetful and hard of hearing. Honestly speaking she is not an efficient worker but she is a pure soul.
I have lost count of her goof ups but at the same time I have learnt a lot from her. Her husband is extremely suspicious and calls at least 5 times a day to check up on her. When a stalker was troubling her over the phone she asked her husband to intervene but instead of solving the problem he began speculating that she was having an affair. As much as I tried to keep away from her personal life my punjabi nature forced me to get involved. I told her to reprimand him, shout at him and leave him.
She still patiently keeps trying and refuses to hold any grudges. That is the special thing about her, she doesn't hold any grudges against anybody.
She said that marriage was not about giving up and one had to learn to manage and handle different situations. At the same time she told me that if he didn't mend his ways she would take action.  A few days later she confessed that if her marriage doesn't work out and if things ended she would never marry again.
This struck me because it is very seldom that you get hear that.
More than my parents I spend the most at home so we tend to interact a lot. We have formed a friendship of sorts. She has to go back to meet the dreaded husband so I decided to ask her in front of my mom what she liked most about our house. I expected it to be me but her response was that the food's good and my parents travel a lot. So basically she indirectly told my mom that she's happy when they're not home. Her innocence is what makes her humorous.
I will never be able to forget the times when my father would call her on the landline and ask her how I was doing and she would reply by saying “main theek hoon bhaiya.” Her way of answering calls is also peculiar with her hello lasting a good ten seconds. All these things are what makes her Lily Didi. The person who lights up the empty house and helps it become a home. A home she has now become a part of.

Anecdote #39

In society from time immemorial, women are traditionally ‘supposed’ to be confined to the domestic sphere. They are ‘allowed’ to work until they bear children. This is not all, at times their prime purpose in life is considered to be child bearing! When a women is already facing such challenges to get where she is professionally and her child says “Mom don’t go to work,” you can only imagine the dilemma she is faced with.I am one of those culprits too who still says “Mom don’t go” when my mother has to go out of town or for a meeting. Fortunately my family never put the traditional restrictions of patriarchy on my mother but nonetheless she works in the ruthless corporate sector and when she started out 27 years ago it had fewer concerns for the female gender in comparison to present conditions. Currently the working environment is still unconducive for women in the private sector. The mindsets of people have not changed either. Financial independence is not a priority for Indian Aunties. They retort by saying that girls should marry rich husbands. What guarantee do they give that those rich husbands will actually be generous? Most of all rich husbands are not equivalent to good husbands. Even if a girl gets married into a prosperous family and is provided with a decent standard of living, if the husband is abusive, no amount of money will make up for the torture. To top that if she is only restricted to the domestic sphere, she would not have the option to escape the abuse and go on with her life.The picture is not vey rosy on the other side either. Though the working women is financially empowered her family and children have too many expectations out of her. How many times have we guilt tripped our working moms into being there for a performance at school, for competitions or for tests. Yes it is their duty to be there for us and prepare us for the challenges that we will face but it is unfair to expect them to be omnipresent. Imagine how exhausting it is! Imagine the negative impact it has on their health, both physical and mental. The great Indian family too has expectations from their daughter-in-law. I remember my mother coming home from office for the karva chauth pooja, reciting the traditional tale and leading the pooja. Then she would help my grandmother prepare tea for the ladies of the entire neighbourhood and quickly have a quick slurp and rush back to work. This is one instance out of an innumerable amount of incidents.Children of working moms pine for them at times which is understandable. Beyond a point it is unfair. It is unfair to expect our mothers to take care of all our needs at all times. We cannot expect them to be at their best behaviour at all times. Cut them some slack! Allow them to be a little irritable, they deal with harsh bosses and clients. Learn to give them some space. I know it’s hard especially when the time you spend with them is not the same in comparison to stay at home moms but think of the things you are vicariously learning from them. You are learning to be hard working, independent and open minded. In no way am I trying to put down housewives. Their work is plenty. Managing a home is unfortunately an unpaid job. The point I am trying to put forth is that in modern India a working mother still has no absolute respite from domestic duties. They are forced to manage both which is extremely taxing.It is therefore crucial for us to recognise the sacrifices being made by our iron willed mothers and thanking them for doing so much. The most basic thing we can do is, stop saying that mom don’t go to work. Stop making her feel guilty for sustaining her self and for supporting the family. Send her off with a smile and assure her that you will be fine. Give her confidence because at the end of the day you are her biggest source of strength and determination.

Anecdote #38

A Day at the Malhotra’s

It was a Sunday morning and Samil was ready for the gym. Going to the gym/Sirifort with his daughter on Sunday had become a weekly regime. Samil was a regular at the gym and could be seen exercising daily where as his daughter was laid back, with the Sunday routine being her only motivation. It was 10 AM and Samil rang his daughter, Ananya to get ready. He hoped she was up by now. She picked up the phone at the last possible ring which was a sigh of relief for the father because unlike him she was not a morning person. “How much time will you take beta?” he asked almost in a habitual manner. “10 minutes,” she said which translated into half an hour. Samil who was returning from his parents’ place parked his Prado below the flat. Everyone at home knew he had arrived before he could even ring the bell. The reason was the revving of his Prado’s engine. To top that the horn of his car was recognisable from Ananya’s paternal grandparents’ home which was at a 100 yard’s distance. Ananya was gulping down a glass of milk when he rang the bell so that she could pretend that she was ready before he entered. She quickly exited the kitchen and opened the door. “Hi Papa!” she said in her chirpiest voice hoping to implant her positivity into him. Samil could see his wife, Praveen near the dining table toying with her medicine tray from the door. “Hi Praveen!” he said in an uplifting tone hoping to instil her with positivity. The father and daughter were unaware of how they used similar tactics. “Hi Samil, we are getting the sofas redone” Praveen announced. Over the years she had become the boss of the house not because she was dominant as a person but because the other two realised that Praveen was always right. That is why both of them ran all their major decisions past her every time. She was the voice of reason in the Malhotra household. Samil replied with a very nice and his signature smile. This smile could be described as an arch with his lips jutting out. This would turn into an expression of disappointment as soon as he raised his eyebrows. His daughter who found this play of facial muscles hilarious didn’t realise that very often she mirrored those expressions.Ananya and Praveen expected a drill of questions from Samil such as Where did you buy the fabric from? Where did the Sofa guy come from? which naturally took it’s course and Praveen began answering them. Ananya’s father and grandparents had a habit of asking too many questions which perturbed her at times and that is why she had become the complete opposite and  had very few queries. When her parents would go out for official trips she wouldn’t ask them where they were staying, what time their flight was so if anyone from the family asked her these questions she would always remain blank. As her parents discussed the business of sofas she wondered how they were finding this discussion so engaging. At that moment her parents’ conversation was boring the life out of her so she decided to change the topic. “Have the both of you read my latest piece on the blog?” she blurted out of nowhere but it really seemed to ignite the fire in the parental Malhotras. “Ananya we are bored of this sad stuff,” “write some happy thing from college” and “Such pieces reflect the state of your mind” were some responses she had elicited. “ Alright, alright I will write something different this time!” she retorted and I did :).