I made it to Columbia University for a graduate program. And as happy as I sound, I am not. Those of you who know about Columbia graduate programs FEES, know why I am not. The Applied Sciences and Engineering bastards, will not get the irony in that joke, they get scholarships.
So here I was a boy from Acher slums, going to Columbia in NY, NY, USA.
A word about Acher Slums: when I was in Ahmedabad recently in Aug (2011), auto rickshaw drivers still look at you twice when you mention that place. Those that agree to take you there, quietly hide all the cash from their wallets and pockets into the small locker place in their autos.
"You never know. He looks like he works in an office. But You Just Never Know with THEM."
Anyway so here I was, laden with bank loans, personal loans, hand outs, charity and loose change from my childhood piggy bank...
I am lying.
my father took all my piggy bank money when I was 10.
Those of you who have been to NY, or seen enough hollywood movies, know about Harlem. Columbia University is smack in the middle of Harlem. It's like a puss filled abscess on a black body.
Anyway so here I was in NY going to an ATM. Covered with a thrift-store coat, and all my pairs of pants. My wallet is safe at home with all my important stuff. My ATM card is stuck in my socks, small amounts of cash in shoes and hands free to save my face if there was a gun shot.
...Yeaahhh, that was my defense strategy.
"If you hear a machine gun take off take your hand like this and cross them in front of your face,
...and if by god's grace, the attackers are vampires, they will start burning."
So I am walking to the ATM Machine, a poor student living on a dollar slice pizza and ramen for last 6 months. No time for exercise. Or showers for that matter. No money for shampoo,
...and then as soon as I enter the ATM kiosk, WHAM.
They have a mirror.
A few times I turned around to see who is that other fat ugly Indian standing behind me.
[Turn look behind. Turn look at the mirror
Turn look behind again. Turn look at the mirror again]
Ah I am getting fat.
I swipe my card, enter my pin, and the ATM machine displays a summary of my account(s). WHAM^2.
I am not only Ugly, I am Poor too.
Where did the money go? Check the transactions.
Skype credit bought in Taiwan!
I know I walk in sleep sometimes, but Taiwan...
Snow is falling with a vengeance outside the kiosk. Wind making horrible threatening noises.
So I am ugly, I am poor, and I have just been e-robbed. I am fuming angry!
...and the ATM machine is going on with it's plastic smug smile: "What can I do for you Today?"
And then there is an advert in the corner:
"Take some loan from us Today. This young, handsome, well-exercised guy in the picture has a house, do you?
He has a wife and a child. He is smiling, in sunny California suburb.What about you?
Changed your mind about that loan?"
Other Transactions
Enter the Code Again
F-0-A-K-7-0-U
I take the money and look into that mirror once again,
...and I see right behind me a group of three innocent looking teenagers. [Wind sound stops]
black leather, bandanas, tatoos,
Creative Facial Hair-dos.
6' 7"
6"5"
and 5' 3". Every gang has a clown
Temperature inside the kiosk rises a few degrees. And I feel a sense of NIRVANA. Tao Zen dawns inside me. My Kundalini has awakened.
What did I come to this world with?
Nothing!
What am I going to take with me?
Nothing!
Nothing out of this ATM kiosk anyway.
So here I was a boy from Acher slums, going to Columbia in NY, NY, USA.
A word about Acher Slums: when I was in Ahmedabad recently in Aug (2011), auto rickshaw drivers still look at you twice when you mention that place. Those that agree to take you there, quietly hide all the cash from their wallets and pockets into the small locker place in their autos.
"You never know. He looks like he works in an office. But You Just Never Know with THEM."
Anyway so here I was, laden with bank loans, personal loans, hand outs, charity and loose change from my childhood piggy bank...
I am lying.
my father took all my piggy bank money when I was 10.
Those of you who have been to NY, or seen enough hollywood movies, know about Harlem. Columbia University is smack in the middle of Harlem. It's like a puss filled abscess on a black body.
Anyway so here I was in NY going to an ATM. Covered with a thrift-store coat, and all my pairs of pants. My wallet is safe at home with all my important stuff. My ATM card is stuck in my socks, small amounts of cash in shoes and hands free to save my face if there was a gun shot.
...Yeaahhh, that was my defense strategy.
"If you hear a machine gun take off take your hand like this and cross them in front of your face,
...and if by god's grace, the attackers are vampires, they will start burning."
So I am walking to the ATM Machine, a poor student living on a dollar slice pizza and ramen for last 6 months. No time for exercise. Or showers for that matter. No money for shampoo,
...and then as soon as I enter the ATM kiosk, WHAM.
They have a mirror.
A few times I turned around to see who is that other fat ugly Indian standing behind me.
[Turn look behind. Turn look at the mirror
Turn look behind again. Turn look at the mirror again]
Ah I am getting fat.
I swipe my card, enter my pin, and the ATM machine displays a summary of my account(s). WHAM^2.
I am not only Ugly, I am Poor too.
Where did the money go? Check the transactions.
Skype credit bought in Taiwan!
I know I walk in sleep sometimes, but Taiwan...
Snow is falling with a vengeance outside the kiosk. Wind making horrible threatening noises.
So I am ugly, I am poor, and I have just been e-robbed. I am fuming angry!
...and the ATM machine is going on with it's plastic smug smile: "What can I do for you Today?"
And then there is an advert in the corner:
"Take some loan from us Today. This young, handsome, well-exercised guy in the picture has a house, do you?
He has a wife and a child. He is smiling, in sunny California suburb.What about you?
Changed your mind about that loan?"
Other Transactions
Enter the Code Again
F-0-A-K-7-0-U
I take the money and look into that mirror once again,
...and I see right behind me a group of three innocent looking teenagers. [Wind sound stops]
black leather, bandanas, tatoos,
Creative Facial Hair-dos.
6' 7"
6"5"
and 5' 3". Every gang has a clown
Temperature inside the kiosk rises a few degrees. And I feel a sense of NIRVANA. Tao Zen dawns inside me. My Kundalini has awakened.
What did I come to this world with?
Nothing!
What am I going to take with me?
Nothing!
Nothing out of this ATM kiosk anyway.
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