Fursat Ke Raat Din

I went to the USA in July 1996 as a contract employee on an H1B visa. I lost two jobs back-to-back in the first 3 months! I had $250 with me. I had no job, no friends. I could not speak English, and I could not drive a car. I could not stay in the USA on an H1B without a job.

I was royally fucked.

It was October 1996. I was in Cleveland. I was trying for a job in Philadelphia at a Kolkata-based Company (DCL) via some acquaintances.

I had to travel between Cleveland and Philadelphia a few times. Since I had no money, I was travelling by Greyhound bus. It was an 11-hour journey via the Appalachian Mountains. It was October, and the fall colour was in full bloom. The trees were so red that it gave the feeling that the whole mountain was on fire, particularly in the evening.

I bought myself a cheap Walkman for $14 (I was really cash-strapped), and I had this cassette by Gulzar. I listened to Fursat-ki-raat-din all the way. I was sad and stressed. But I was also young and confident. So my worries could not stop me from enjoying those few beautiful journeys via the most beautiful places in the world.

https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLqKY02NoTgcRW_b5e1nuc4xO3odkvOeZx&si=sDhmXO_RCuPQn7cP

Even now, when I listen to this album, I remember those bittersweet days.

These are the memories that do not allow me to quit drinking. It is so much fun that I do not have the heart to give it up.

I was thinking of abstaining till Thursday. But YouTube started this music in my car this morning, and all my restraints are off.

Tonight = Amrut + Fursat

After 30 years of constant struggle, don’t we all deserve a little Fursat!

Cheers!

Of Human Bondage

No one felt this simple truth in his guts than I. These learnings are seared into my existence. No one values money than I do. No one hates poverty than me. I don't want to be rich. But money gives me dignity. Dignity is more precious than life.

I knew days when half a loaf of dry bread was luxury. Having two meals a day was security. Today I can afford cheese from Belgium, bread from France. I can afford to dine at the Sangri La daily. Do I want them? Hell, no. I enjoy my dal and vat better than any food in the world. But I CAN. That matters.