The large time gap between my last post and this one would have no doubt lead the reader to get the idea that I no longer am one of those chaps that involve themselves in blog post rambling as a measure to rid themselves of a certain lethargy. The reader is partially accurate because the aforementioned indisposition has eluded me (thankfully) for the past few months. I would however like to assure the reader that I do not view literary “traipsing” (if that is an appropriate term to use here) as something I do as a last choice of activities; I do enjoy writing!
Now, a lot has happened since my last post, but I will spare the reader from rubbing their face in every detail of my crazy life - I will simply “traipse” along presenting, hopefully, only the interesting portions of my activities.
The first important thing that happened to me in the last few months was the completion of my masters thesis. The degree of exhilaration that was involved at the conclusion of biomedical research in my student life can be a subject of empathy only to those members of the student community who are put to an ordeal defined by the following –
- What you were originally interested when you joined grad school - 3%
- What you think is cool but nobody will fund - 9%
- Your thoughts on why you are doing what you are doing, more like soul searching - 14%
- Your department's interests - 74%
A majority of the members of this community would agree to this kind of inhuman reduction their lives into undeniably ignoble existences (until the sweet release of “graduation”). However, I am also aware that there will be certain, more “elite” members screaming “get off the soapbox, you idiot” at me at this point. So, with all due respect, I shall move on to the next chapter in my life – the marriage.
As soon as I defended and submitted by thesis, I hopped on a plane to India. Awaiting me in India was a beautiful wedding ceremony followed by a reception of proportionate amplitude and splendor. The whole series of events was made a journey of pleasure and comfort by the lovely bride whom I knew right from the beginning was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
Ahem…
Right, so the next important thing to happen in my life was the job. Again, I take the liberty of ascending on to the soapbox – If one has a desire to start a new job after graduation in a job market of today’s nature, one has to be prepared to be reduced to a grease monkey that tries to make a dysfunctional printer work by fiddling around with the ink cartridge even when the tray has no paper. The most unfortunate part of all this is that one is entirely aware that one is hardly touching the root of the problem (the paper tray) and yet one is forced to play with the ink cartridge (or the traditional application process) because the paper tray is locked and no one will give one the key to the mint (access to the hiring managers)! However, once the hands are greased enough, someone usually takes notice and one gets a job (unlike the printer that remains dysfunctional – that is the silver lining). Without delving into any further details, I finally graduated from being a grease monkey to having a job offer for the position of product engineer. It happened at the right time, and fortunately for me, the offer came from good medical device company. At this point, I was still staying in Akron and I had to move to Youngstown where the company is located. And I moved.
Youngstown! Refrain from judging the town based on its name. Apparently the town was founded by a gentleman who went by the family name “Young” and that’s how the town got its name. A limited excursion through the heart of Youngstown, however, will convince you that nothing here is young. This hit me when I came here first by a Greyhound bus and was greeted by a building with a board that said “city jail”. As one walks on the streets of downtown, one would see structures mostly of antediluvian architecture but sadly devoid of any grandeur because they are empty and as a result, shockingly unmaintained. One gets the impression, as one looks at the buildings and roads, that in its heyday, the town would have been a cheerful and busy place but one day something terrible happened and it all ended. Walking through the seemingly bohemian surroundings, one would see countless run down houses. There are a few handsome houses but they are empty and sadly run down. Strangely, there is nothing cheerful or homey about the kids that are seen playing on the streets or the women that are seen sitting in their verandahs smoking their cigarettes. You would see little office buildings with doors that are bolted, but only as a sign of vacancy because the roofs had collapsed and the windows were shattered. Occasionally you would see a signboard that says “Grocery store” or “Supplies” but with a broken building behind it. Every time I see such signboards, I cannot help but picture a probable homey history of that neighborhood. Every street corner is marked with a “Neighborhood crime watch” signboard that I have now become so familiar with. The weirdest thing about the town is the lack of sidewalks – you have GOT to drive to live here! And it’s not easy to drive either because the roads don’t have readable name signs. Well, a lot has been written about Youngstown and the reader may browse the internet to learn more, but now when a newcomer or a visitor arrives here and sees the “city jail” sign with an expression that is indescribable, I would simply say, “Welcome to Youngstown!”
Okay! There's a lot more that I would love to share with the reader, but I’m going to terminate this post here. More later!
