Beginnings

I was born in Allahabad, India, in 1989. We stayed with my dad’s side of the family, as is customary in that country, in their big ol’ mansion (by that city’s standards, at least) in a joint family setting. No matter where I looked, I was surrounded by love — whether it was my dad or mom’s side of the family. Until third grade, before me and my immediate family moved to America, I attended the most prestigious school in town — St Joseph’s College. Evenings were marked with a bevy of games — everything from flying kites to cricket to chess.

My dad used to teach engineering at Allahabad University, while my mom was a stay-at-home mom. My sister came into the picture when I was three and a half years old. I remember going to lots of birthday parties and dinner parties as a kid. It wasn’t until later in life that I realized it was because my mom’s a social butterfly. She’s pretty much the creator and center of ‘hungama’ (fun and partying) wherever we go. Thanks to her, my childhood was wrought with entertainment. Whether it was a party that we were throwing, a weekend trip out somewhere, or just sitting at home dilly-dallying, she was always nonstop entertainment.

My dad came to America in ‘97 to do his PHD. A year later, he got a job at Intel, which was the premier company in his field of study. He dropped the PHD and the three of us, my mom, sister and I came to America soon after in ‘98. We lived in a cozy apartment at Lake Ridge complex in Folsom, California for a year and a half before moving into our house on Ballast Way.

My sister and I both attended Natoma Station Elementary School, which was walking distance from both our apartment and later our house. It was supposedly the best elementary school in the area.

I think my first year of schooling in America had a big impact on me. I say that because I can still recite you all thirty four students’ names in Mrs. Hill’s fourth grade class in ‘98-‘99. It might be the way she used to take roll… but something tells me nobody else in that class would even come close now.

That’s not to say Ms. Dean’s class the year after, or Ms. G’s the year after that, were any less impactful. If anything, those two may have played a bigger role in who I became eventually. Ultimately speaking, my years in elementary school in America were as formative as they come.

While weekdays were filled with school and after school activities, weekends were filled with road trips to everywhere near and far. By now, I’ve seen just about everything California has to offer from tip to tip. And thanks to my mom’s bubbly nature, the trips were about as entertaining as they could be.

By the way, we scrimped and saved once we got to America — I didn’t have the luxury of video games or toys of all sorts like the kinds my friends used to get… we just found fun in the little things and in each other.

And it’s not like my mom was only about entertainment, either. She made sure we did well in school and tried her best to make us well-rounded individuals. Oh, and when I say ‘well’ in school, I mean she bred champions. There was no reason why we couldn’t be first in something, the lead of a school play, the best member of the school orchestra, or in charge of an after school club. If my sister and I ever doubted ourselves, she would show us the way to overcome our doubts and become brazen champions at whatever we were attempting.

“Why not?”, asked in Hindi, was her way of imploring us as to why we couldn’t do something. Then, she would show us the way. Sometimes it was something as simple as reminding us that it’s in us, that we’ve got it, are indeed this or that. Sometimes, she would take the charge and help us with big science and history projects from start to finish. It was never about the grade or being better than others — it was about self-confidence — that we could do it.

She also implored us to keep our minds open and be accepting of others and their culture. Considering the fact that her childhood was spent first in India, then Libya, then New Jersey and finally Toronto, it’s no wonder she became such a worldly person. And it showed, too, in her choice of music. I grew up listening to everything from Hindustani classical and religious hymns to Arabic and Persian music to classic rock and 80s pop. Bollywood music, of course, was a mainstay throughout my childhood thanks to how much Bollywood movies have permeated Indian culture. And the classic rock may also be thanks to my dad, who was an avid listener thanks to his first time around living in America when he did his Master’s at Drexel in the 80s.

While I’d love to skip over my awkward years at Sutter Middle School, there are a couple of things that happened there which I must mention.

First, my skip to Honors Math. We took placement tests when I first entered middle school, and I was placed in the Honors Math program. This meant that I would be doing 8th grade math in 7th grade. Pretty soon, I found out that a handful of students got to skip ahead another year and do 9th grade math in 7th grade. When I told my mom this, she asked the school to give me another test. They told me it would be within the week, and… we got to preparin’.

My mom spent every evening tutoring me that week. We often went late into the night. And what do you know… I killed that test and was soon on my way to doing math two levels up like my ultra-smart peers.

That… was a huge boost in confidence. And it carried with me until I was amongst the 13 students (out of a class of 600) doing Calculus BC in 12th grade. They had to open a new class just for us 13 — that’s how ahead of the pack we were.

Thanks, Amma (mom). For that and so much more.

Second, puberty… and raging hormones. Although the latter carried its way into high school, in middle school it meant developing my first big crush. During the very last school dance in eighth grade, when I was amongst the usuals who used to hound the cookie table, a cute girl named Brenda asked me to dance. And while it was about as awkward as slow dances come, it also meant the start of a crush that lasted well over a year for me.

The first album I ever bought was around then too. Usher’s Confessions. And I used to listen to it on repeat while thinking of Brenda. LOL.

She and I ended up having a class in common in my first year of high school. 8th period PE (Physical Education). I remember we used to chat it up after class ended every day. I was head over heels in love with her, but I could never tell her because I wasn’t allowed to date — nay, even mention — girls. I think I did end up sending some corny email to her with an image of a rose attached to it… but, uh… we don’t have to go there.

High school was the first time I had Indian friends. There were a grand total of four Indians in my class, and I ended up making friends with two of the other three. I got close to them because they were also two grades ahead in math… and because they were Indian. The common theme that bands Indian kids growing up in America is strict parents and rules like ‘no dating’. It meant commiserating and finding other avenues of having fun together versus our white cohorts.

That’s not to say I didn’t date in high school, though. All bets were off when I got my drivers license at 16. It meant I could tell my parents that I was at tennis practice while I was secretly canoodling with my then girlfriend in the backseat of my car.

Meena. I met her first at a Diwali function about a year or two before we started dating. All the brown kids in the area that got to know each other through such functions ended up forming a group chat on AOL Instant Messenger. Me and her hit it off from the start. By the Diwali function the year after I met her, I was already in love with her. We’d talked quite a bit in the year in between. I remember our first kiss, when I just brazenly went for it at function #2, being magical. And although in the grand scheme of things our year and a half long relationship was short lived, it was anything but in our minds. We were stupidly in love with each other.

One day, she told me to log into her MySpace for something. I don’t remember what. But while on there, I saw a message to her from another boy that mentioned something about them kissing. My stomach dropped. I couldn’t believe somebody could do that to somebody else they were in a relationship with. The concept of cheating wasn’t even a thing for me until that day. Maybe it was my sheltered life and Bollywood upbringing, but whatever it was absolutely tore me apart. While I didn’t break up with her right away like I should have, it was the beginning the end for us. That also became my catalyst for the huge flirt I turned into first year of college until my next girlfriend. Eventually, though, I got over the cheating. Not to say it didn’t have a huge effect on me and cause many insecurities to arise during my next relationship… but get over it I did. And, surprisingly, Meena and I became friends again. We ended up hooking up quite a few times years after our relationship was over. And to this day, a spark remains between us that I don’t think will ever really go away. Some things are just chemical.

Ready to hear how much I ho’d it up first year in college? And, I mean… I was a slut. But that doesn’t exactly mean the same thing it does for a guy as it does for a girl. You see, guys have to work hard to get girls. Girls? You don’t have to do a thing. You get to reject guys all day long. So, uh… how exactly did I become a slut? And that too, being the scrawny looking Indian dude I am, fresh out of a relationship where I was cheated on?

Confidence. Which came from two things, mainly. One was my acceptance into UCLA, one of the finer schools in the area that I never imagined I would actually get into. Second was all the attention I started receiving from girls the second half of senior year of high school. One girl in particular, Payal, who went on to be my next girlfriend, became the wind beneath my wings.

She was hot. Like, hot hot. I met her when she joined the nightly group chats with all the other Indians in the area (despite being from the Bay Area herself). And while all the guys were exclaiming how hot she is, and while I was still dating the ex-hottest person in the group — Meena — me and Payal got to talking every night. My favorite thing about her was that she was real. I never had to worry about what I was saying to her or hurting her feelings — I could just be straight up and honest with her. In return, I could expect the same back from her. And boy did she speak her mind. Had an opinion on everything, too. (Read the story of when I first met Payal here: https://link.medium.com/5vNEQjDpgkb)

The first night we spent together was so fucking fun. We didn’t even kiss or anything. It was just… I don’t know how to describe it. We snuck into an airfield and pushed airplanes around. We snuck onto a yacht. We did other stupid things — all while listening to the awesome music she’d put together for the night in my car’s insane 1500W aftermarket stereo system. (Read the story of the airfield here: https://link.medium.com/iNW5uSIpgkb)

I felt so lucky to be by her side all night like that. I couldn’t believe a girl like her would be interested in even hanging out with a guy like me.

It wasn’t just her, though. Some of the other “it” girls from my high school had started inviting me to hang out with them and inviting themselves to hang out with me. At first I thought it was my car, with its stereo system and the way I’d added neon and LED lights inside that went to the music which made it the ultimate party car. I… still kind of think it was my car. I mean, I don’t know… I was a huge nerd.

Either way, that kind of attention from those kinds of girls combined with getting into a good college meant my confidence was peaking by the time I entered college. And along with the newfound freedom… I came into college with one mission and one mission only. To get as many girls as I could. It was supposed to be a giant middle finger to Meena. I was hurt… and the way I showed it was becoming a huge flirt. I honestly can’t even count or remember how many girls I hooked up with that year. But, uh… I had a two week rule. Me, the guy, had a rule that I would not date one girl for more than two weeks at a time, not the other way around.

I remember going into Halloween weekend dating three girls at the same time… I was pulling so much tail I should’ve won an award or something. Actually, later that year I did win an award for “Biggest Pimp” by the Indian Student Union (ISU). Hah. (Read the story of Halloween here: https://link.medium.com/ogb2bjRpgkb)

Backing up a bit, though… I want to talk about when I first set foot on campus. Here’s the story: https://link.medium.com/PQgRUItpgkb