Parallel Journeys

All of us walk side by side with others, sometimes as silent spectators (if not as voyeurs), and sometimes as companions.

I remember last year around this time I decided to appear for an important professional examination. One of my then-pregnant colleagues took the journey with me from the first day I decided that I was going to sit for that exam to the very last day when I declared triumphantly that I have passed. She didn’t have to share astute strategies of tackling the exam with me. It was not even in her practice area. But she got all excited about sharing her knowledge and proven strategies of exam success, because she enjoyed the shared journey. It allowed her to look back at her own days of taking competitive exams, the thrills of it —without actually having to do the drill herself— rather than thinking 24/7 about preparing herself for the life-after-baby. I was already a mother of a preschooler. I guess I needed the distraction of preparing for an exam. But at the same time I was also walking the vicarious walk of a first-time mom-to-be—from accompanying my colleague to a prospective daycare close to work that she was excited to find out, to sharing the ‘worried-Asian-mothers-in-laws-whose-pregnant-daughters-in-law-were-still-working’ stories. For women, it is all about compartmentalizing their life into these little boxes called work, family, hobbies etc., and happily seeing the demarcations blur.

Very recently, I took a parallel journey with another close friend, who just relocated back to India. She epitomized what a good neighbor should be. We knew each other from our undergraduate days in India. Then we happened to enroll at the same graduate school, happened to have kids at the same time (second kid for her, first for me), and happened to land in the same neighborhood in the bay area (at different times though)—none of it pre-coordinated, but all of it working fantastically for both me and my friend, and for our respective children.

It is not a secret that over time, most first-generation immigrants perfect the skill of living simultaneously in two worlds. With Obama as the President of the United States, you don’t even have to be sheepish about admitting your dual life these days. We pay equal attention to the gossip columns on Bollywood and Hollywood. We weep when our elderly parents let us know that they are managing fine by themselves, finally accepting the fact that their bright children are doing too well in their adopted land to come back, and then on the next day, we gloat in the glory of being ‘truly global’ in the flat world. Still, when a close friend actually moves back to India, we can’t help but feel sad. To compensate, we match virtual strides with the ones who are going back, and sometime we more than compensate—we actually have fun along the way!

For me the funniest experience was when I visited the Open House event that their realtor organized to sell their house. It was my friend’s husband’s bright idea that I go to the Open House event, pretending to be a prospective homebuyer, to have a feel about how things were going. I have visited their house countless times after we had moved into the neighborhood. I thought I’d raise suspicion, because it’d be hard for me to pull off the scrutinizing look of a prospective buyer who is visiting for the first time. But I guess I did an adequate job, assisted by the fact that with other families flowing in and out, it was impossible for the realtors to track my minutest expressions. I dutifully asked why the owners were selling, was I going to get a good deal because the owners were in a hurry to sell, how good the nearest elementary school was—the array of questions you are supposed to ask while considering buying a home. I even asked about the fruit trees in the backyard! And before I left, I promised to come back with my family for another round of look the next day.

Later that week, my friend informed me that the house sold quickly without any hassle. I was really happy for them. We hovered when they packed their final suitcases. Our children played together and sat down together to eat dinner. Nobody was overly sentimental. With emails and Facebook and photo sharing over the web, is there any real reason to be sentimental? But then why do you check your mailbox eagerly for the mail that describes how their first week in India was?

I am sure my friend left a piece of her heart in California too. She’ll think of her car still being driven on California roads by the current owner. She’ll think about our kids frolicking together in the swimming pool. She’ll think about the kids hiding inside an empty cardboard box left at her house after all their stuff had been shipped to India. She’ll think about orchestrating a business trip to the bay area as soon as the settling logistics are taken care of.

You can’t experience everything in your lifetime. But you sure can experience a lot more than just the things going on in your own life when you let yourself take the parallel journeys with friends that life brings your way.