It was thirty years ago, today too

The long and winding road ended at the airport in Madras.

I sometimes refer to the end of that road and to the new beginning as my own "tryst with destiny."  Other times, I refer to myself as one of the "midnight's children."  During the same transition hours that marked India's beginning in 1947, I was ending the journey in the old country and venturing towards something unknown.

I have no idea how I came across to others back then, but I know I was stressed out.  Way stressed out.  And the stress was not helping the acidity situation in my stomach, as I would later come to find out during my graduate school years.

I was stressed not because I was going to a far away place. Not at all.  The newness was cause for excitement.  The stress came from the fact that I was headed towards graduate school in a field for which I had no formal educational preparation.  What if I failed at my attempt, and had to return to India?  What if I was unable to complete a PhD?  And, by the way, how does one do a PhD?  Would I be able to find a job after graduate school?

Yes, I had a plan that I was executing.  But, the plan had no details beyond getting on the plane in Madras.

I was stressed out.

It seemed like the few other students I met while waiting at the airport were all traveling the plans that were all familiar--graduate school in engineering or science.  And many of them seemed to be going where they would even re-connect with their college seniors.  Their only challenge was to decide between returning to India after graduation versus working in America at least for a while.

All I knew was that I was not going back to India.  America will be home.  As for everything else, well, I had to fill in the blanks.

And thus, in 1987, I boarded the Singapore Airlines flight a little before the midnight hour.

I stepped into a "jumbo jet" for the first time in my life.  I felt like I had entered into a huge hotel lobby. And there was a staircase, for the privileged travelers to get to their seats!

I reached my seat, which was in the rear of the plane, only a couple of rows ahead of the "smoking section."

The stress.  The excitement.  And everything new.  I don't think I slept much.  Not in the flight from Madras to Singapore, nor in the long haul from Singapore to Los Angeles with a stop in Tokyo.

The plane landed in Los Angeles.  The disembarking took forever.  I joined the long line snaking its way to the immigration counters for visitors.

Finally, it was my turn.

I gave the officer my papers and my passport.

My life in America commenced.  Thirty years ago, on August 15, 1987.