***
It was the fall of 2002 when Vijay Kumar arrived at the New York Institute of Engineering and Management to study for his PhD. He had been in New York for a few weeks already, having come a little early to talk to his adviser about a research assistantship. He'd found a small studio apartment on Rockaway Boulevard in Ozone Park, Queens, but his five hundred dollar monthly stipend wouldn't begin to cover the four hundred dollar rent and his other expenses, so he'd inquired with the school's chapter of the Graduate Indian Student Association (GISA) about a roommate. The young Indian girl at the front desk had mentioned that she knew of a South Indian student who was arriving at the university the following week, and he, too, was looking to share housing. She gave Vijay his contact information, and Vijay quickly sent him an email. The next day, he'd received the young man's reply. Yes, he was very eager to share an apartment with Vijay, and he'd included a copy of his resume. Vijay had found this a bit odd, but charming in its own way. His potential roommate had earned his B.B.M. degree and was coming to the U.S. to study for an MBA. He'd also worked for six months under the tutelage of a famous South Indian chef. Vijay couldn't believe his luck, as he'd never been very good in the kitchen and was sure that he wouldn't have time to learn now while studying for his PhD. After only a slight moment of indecision, Vijay had sent a reply, and asked his new roommate to let him know when he would be arriving in New York.
The sun was low in the sky when Vijay glanced out of the high, narrow window of the apartment, debating about how to get to the airport. He could take the subway to Howard Beach and then hop on the AirTrain to the airport, or he could take the subway and switch to a bus for the final leg of the trip. The AirTrain was a faster and considerably nicer option, but it would cost him more money. If he took the bus, he could ride for free with his monthly subway pass. Even the $1.50 for the subway ride wasn't cheap for a graduate student on a stipend, so Vijay decided on the second option. His new friend might be unimpressed, but it would be good preparation for the disappointment that awaited him in Vijay's stark, basement apartment.
After taking the A Train and exiting at Lefferts Boulevard, Vijay took up a position in the line of passengers already forming for the Q10. The bus was late, and by the time the passengers had shuffled onboard and paid their fares, Vijay was already running fifteen minutes behind schedule. When he finally reached JFK's Terminal 4, the crowd had already thinned considerably, and Vijay's eyes immediately fell upon the frail, dark-skinned Indian boy standing near the long assembly line of yellow cabs that were pulling up to the curb and loading passengers. Despite the fact that it was August, he was wearing an oversized, faded winter coat that only exaggerated his spindly legs sticking out below, and he stood at alert, his spine straight and his head moving left to right as he kept his hands on two large luggage bags and a backpack that seemed to be bursting at its seams.
Vijay smiled when he saw the man shivering and occasionally releasing his grip on his bags to rub his hands together. Instinctively he knew it had to be him, as only a south Indian could be cold in the middle of a New York City summer heat wave. The man shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and seemed nervous as he scanned the area. Vijay wondered if the look was out of concern for what he would do if no one showed up to claim him, or if he was nervous that someone would try to steal his bags, which he was guarding as though they contained the last of his worldly possessions, perhaps, Vijay realized, because they actually did. Vijay looked down at the picture on the resume he held in his hand. The man shivering in the cold was definitely his new roommate.
"Next! Where to, sir?" An attendant grabbed the man's bags to load them into the waiting cab, and the Indian man panicked. "No! No, leave it," he said, yanking at his bag. "Sorry, sorry! I do not need cab."
The attendant gave him a dirty look. "What are you doing in line then, huh? Get out of everyone's way!"
Vijay held up his hand and waived, quickly running towards the commotion. "Hey! Hi! Lakshminarayanan Durgalakshminath?" he shouted, impressing himself by not fumbling the name too badly.
Lakshminarayanan immediately looked up at the sound of his name, and broke into a huge smile when he saw Vijay running towards him. "Hello! Mr. Vijay Kumar?" he responded with a South-Indian accent. He approached Vijay and extended his right hand, which was covered in a thick, woolen glove. Vijay hesitated, and a shadow briefly flickered across Lakshminarayanan's face. Vijay caught his expression and quickly gestured at the glove. Looking down, the man laughed, bobbing and weaving his head in a back and forth motion that was both typical and uniquely Indian. He ripped the glove off and shook Vijay's outstretched hand vigorously.
"How was your trip?" Vijay asked while grabbing one of the bags.
"Very long," the man continued, "Hey! Thank you for coming."
Vijay turned back in the direction of the bus stop. "Don't worry about it. We're roommates now, so we'll be helping each other out for a long time."
Vijay's words immediately put Lakshminarayanan at ease, and he nodded in agreement. "You are right," he said as he fell in step behind Vijay, swinging the backpack over his shoulder and yanking at the collapsible handle of the remaining bag. "Where are we going?"
"We'll take the bus home," Vijay replied. "I think it's coming now, so we have to walk fast," he said while increasing his pace. Lakshminarayanan struggled to keep up as best as he could. As Vijay hauled the bags up the narrow steps of the bus, Lakshminarayanan stood at the door and looked around with surprise. He had never seen such a clean bus, and there wasn't a single person sitting on the roof or hanging out its windows. The interior lights glowed steadily, casting a yellowish-green tint on tired faces. Vijay swiped a card twice through some kind of machine, and swiveled his head over his shoulder.
"Come on. Get in," he shouted over the noise of the bus's engine.
Lakshminarayanan stepped up into the bus and stopped abruptly when he saw that the driver was a woman. His face registered his shock, and the driver smiled. Already, America was different than what he'd expected. The bus was crowded, but Vijay had managed to find an empty seat and offered it to him.
"Have a seat. You must be tired," Vijay motioned.
Lakshminarayanan sat and placed the backpack on his lap. An older white woman was seated beside him, and shifted in her seat to give him more room. "Thank you," he said, looking at the lady and then back up at Vijay, who stood beside his seat.
"How are you feeling? Are you hungry?" Vijay asked politely.
"No. They gave us food on the plane. It was pretty good."
"How was the flight?"
"It was okay. But I could not sleep."
"You came via Air India?right?" Vijay asked.
Lakshminarayanan nodded. "Yeah! There was not any leg space. You know, this was the first time I was flying, so I was excited about getting to see the beautiful air hostesses." He blushed suddenly, thinking perhaps he had been too forward in front of his new friend, but Vijay just laughed.
"I think they prefer to be called 'Flight attendants' these days. So? How were they?"
"Oh, man! I was so disappointed with those old Indian aunties. I feel like I am being monitored by teachers in school," Lakshminarayanan confided.
Vijay chuckled and grabbed the overhead bar to steady himself as the bus made a turn. "So. You are from Tamilnadu, right?" He was trying to maintain the conversation to make his new friend feel at ease. The bus's air conditioning unit labored to cool the overcrowded bus, but the South Indian man was unfazed by the heat, even in his heavy down coat.
"Yes," Lakshminarayanan replied as the bus made its first stop.
"Where in Tamilnadu?"
"Sivakasi, Virudhunagar District," he answered, while gazing out the window.
"What? Sivakasi in Tamilnadu?" Vijay asked curiously.
"Yes. Why?"
"No. Nothing," Vijay replied hesitantly.
"I know you are from Bombay?I mean Mumbai. M
y town is not as big as your city. I am from very small place," Lakshminarayanan's voice trailed off as he again turned his attention to the world outside the bus's window.
"Oh! No, I didn't mean it that way," Vijay countered, upset that he had offended his friend. "I know Sivaksi. Almost every firecracker and match box in India is made in Sivakasi."
"Yeah. I worked in one of those factories since I was six years. I know how to make almost every type of firecracker."
Vijay noticed the tears that had suddenly pooled in Lakshminarayanan's lower eyelids. Vijay knew of the poverty in Sivakasi, and silently chided himself for not being more thoughtful with Lakshminarayanan. It was not a conversation you had with someone you had just met, and certainly not one to have on a bus full of strangers.
"Our stop is next, so let's get ready," Vijay said, offering Lakshminarayanan his best apologetic smile and pulling his bags towards the front of the bus. Lakshminarayanan stood up and nodded briefly at the old woman next to him. The brakes screeched as the bus lurched to a halt, and he awkwardly sidestepped down the aisle, trying not to hit anyone with his suitcases.
"Excuse me, sorry. So sorry," he apologized, again gently bobbing his head back and forth.
"Now we have to take the subway," Vijay said. As usual, the elevator at the station was broken, so they had to lift each bag and carry it up the stairs. Vijay again swiped the yellow card twice and opened the emergency exit door, which startled Lakshminarayanan with its disapproving siren. He had always thought American trains were underground, but ahead of him he saw an elevated track and yet another staircase. Once more, they made their way up a flight of stairs, dragging the heavy bags.
When they got to the platform, Lakshminarayanan was completely out of breath. He stood without talking for several minutes, watching the people waiting on the platform, before turning to Vijay again. "Hey," he said, breaking their silence. "What is the yellow ticket you use?"
"It's a Metrocard for the subway and the bus," Vijay replied.
"Oh! So how much I owe you?" Lakshminarayanan said while reaching into his pocket.
"Don't worry about it. We will take care of it later," Vijay said, gesturing with a nod of his head towards the approaching lights. "The train is here."
It was a long train, with many individual cabs, and once again, Lakshminarayanan couldn't help but stare as it approached. The train's brakes hissed as it pulled alongside the platform's edge, and with a ringing sound, its doors opened and he was hit in the face with a blast of cold air. Just like the bus, no one was shoving anyone or hanging out the window, but this time, there were a lot of available seats. He grabbed two of them and motioned to Vijay to sit down. "Nice!" Lakshminarayanan grinned.
"Yeah, I suppose it is," Vijay sighed. "But I am a pure Bombayite, so I actually miss the crowded Bombay trains. I used to love running alongside them and grabbing on and climbing up the sides when I was a kid," he continued. The train pulled forward, and Lakshminarayanan eagerly looked out the windows on both sides of the car, hoping to catch a glimpse of the city.
"You don't get a real view of New York from here, " Vijay cautioned. "We live a little far out from the city, in Ozone Park. It's not bad. Just thirty, maybe forty minutes from the city by the A train. We can go to the city tomorrow if you don't have jet lag."
"Good, I am sure I will be good. No problems. And how far we live from University?" Lakshminarayanan asked.
"The university is also in Manhattan, so it takes almost as long," Vijay answered. Lakshminarayanan looked disappointed. "But don't worry, we have lots of Indian grocery stores around our area, where you can find any ingredient you would need for your famous dishes!" Vijay added, hoping that this information would please him.
Lakshminarayanan frowned, and looked away from Vijay. Vijay was confused. Was Lakshminarayanan already regretting his decision to stay with him? Had Vijay again said something improper that had offended his new friend? Vijay quickly replayed the conversation in his head, but he couldn't think of any reason why Lakshminarayanan should have been upset, unless?
Lakshminarayanan turned back towards Vijay and looked at him sheepishly. Vijay cocked his head and broke into a huge grin. "Well," said Vijay, "I guess all we need to do now is learn to cook!"
Lakshminarayanan let out a deep and genuine laugh. His secret was out, and Vijay wasn't angry. Maybe this was going to work out after all.