Americana

Now in the little town of Champaign, Illinois, lives a boy, who, by some strange twists of fate has led a life so similar to mine, I am tempted to start believing in the cosmic conspiracy theory propounded by some thinkers. What is stranger is that as we speak more, I realize we have been in the same arena, room almost, and not met. Following the general rules of life, he should have been, at the very least, outside of a thousand kilometer radius around me. In this quaint little university town, I've finally run into him. Again, thank the good Lord for the kindness of strangers.

Not fare well, but fare forward voyager. To quote TS E.

The Kindness of Strangers

It's been three months since I've stepped on these shores. Time, it seems, has decided to live up to its reputation, and has never given me the chance to look back and reflect. But tonight, reflection time it is. Been locked out in the cold, been hungry at times, been in want of many things, but never have been lacking a helping hand along the way. If it were not for the remarkable kindness of absolute strangers, it would have been a far more arduous life for me to have led.

I stand and salute the magnanimity of variously, a Canadian-American couple in DC, an Indian-American couple in Holland, Michigan, a no-nonsense Bangalorean in Minneapolis, a calm, peaceful New Yorker, the Chicagoan lifesavers, a girl who lived up in the skies, and above everyone else this holiday season- A girl from Delhi, making Chicago her own, taking me in, and providing me with shelter from the storm. Words are hopelessly inadequate at this juncture, in attempting to describe the level of gratitude I feel toward all concerned.

"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely actors, with their separate entrances and exits...." the bard said. My part in this play is done, but I will remember.