The Loss and Find

by Gaurav Verma (India)

I didn't expect to find USA

What I owe to my first job is the experience of traveling that it made me do. Sometimes sought after, sometimes forced into, but never to be regretted. One such sojourn was my brief stint in Minneapolis, USA. Just like my previous job-related travels, the destination was not my choice but was wholeheartedly accepted as a gesture of faith in destiny. My family, though happy with my travels, was more worried because of the length of travel and stay abroad. As that surely would put their plans of arranging a nuptial alliance for me on “slow-burner”. Traveling gets a whole new meaning if a conscious attempt is made to connect with locals. Hence, more than the place it was the expectation to meet people that got me excited. For me nothing was untouchable when it came to human relations. I was just an observer, an unbiased one, not holding any prejudices or having specific agendas. This made me an outcast within my own community but I was fully aware of that repercussion. I was not seeking a comfort zone. I was happy to befriend strangers. Jet-lagged body of mine was out there on the porch in the cold autumn morning after some short bouts of sleep. I was staring at the horizon. The Sun was about to rise. I was trying to find the meaning of such aimless wandering. Deep inside my heart I was fearing an eventuality that would shake my very existence. When would it strike and where would I be then, how could I tell? But that eventuality was sure to happen. The only solace I drove was from that yet-to-be-discovered place. While back home this time of the year was marked by resplendent fauna having bathed in Monsoon showers, here in Minneapolis I discovered what Autumn was like. Falling leaves and cool dry breeze made me yearn further for a human touch. Alas, every soul on the street was busy making a livelihood. Once in a week I would attend the meeting of a society to enhance my communication skills. In due course I discovered the precise importance this society ascribed to each moment of those 30 minutes spent in the meeting. Yet I wondered how real were the relations built out of such clockwork associations! The relations were built not during those 30 minutes but while collaborating for the homework which went into making those meetings successful. All on a voluntary basis. That was a revelation to me. Outside work, having joined a photography course, I made attempts to wander even without friends. I was awed by the majestic yet calm flow of the Mississippi as it passes through its first big human settlement - the twin cities. I took part in organizing a public debate competition for home-schoolers in that area. I discovered how a sense of ownership, collaboration and healthy competition can grow out of such voluntary association. Once late in the winter evening I found myself locked out of my own apartment. I was all alone with sparse clothing on me. All alone in that alien land, my belief in mid-western ethos and in humanity in general grew stronger as I received urgent medical assistance from neighbors whom I met then for the first time. Neighbors who were rather remote otherwise. But still I was just acting as an observer in my own world. The people that mattered in my life back at home were trying to convince me to get real and act. I, in my stubbornness, refused. And then that eventuality happened. I spoke last to my father over the phone, steadfastly refusing to engage in prenuptial conversations with any suitor. A piece of my soul got lost since then. I wept alone in a crowded street when everyone tended to his/her own business. My lost self found an anchor with the birth of my son. Long after those episodes of traveling were history. Pretty much settled into the daily rhythm of a married life, that birth gave birth to yet another father. Emotions draped in teary wet eyes rolled down my eyes. Now that I was on the other side, those feelings were making sense to me.