connect the dots.

To celebrate, I ate at Diwana in London with a few Volans colleagues - a bottle of Kingfisher, some panipuri and a thali meal made me viscerally ache for India’s warmth. Wishing my friends the most wonderful holiday with their families.

It’s been more than a month since I left India.  Just yesterday, I finished Shantaram.  Exactly 45 days ago, I made my final presentation to a crowd of Tata Group executives on my 23rd birthday.  But for the first time in my life, I hadn’t been counting down to my birthday, making it incredibly bittersweet when I was surprised at midnight with non-extinguishable candles and a cake fight.  I had landed in India two months earlier with good intentions and a lot of questions; I left with better intentions and a lot of friends.  One friend characterized the experience perfectly: I was in India for two months, two seconds, two years. 

I think I started to step back from the blogosphere when my life in India started to normalize.  It took about a month; then the wandering cows seemed to serve a purpose as lazy speedbreakers, the erratic driving really wasn’t that erratic and the slums were really little homes.  I started to get used to the pace, and treasure it.  Friends commented nervously after Anurag left…what will you do without him?!  I laugh in retrospect - I was never in shortage of a good friend.  There was Kamesh, a wire technology expert who accompanied me to Indore, offered valuable insight into my CSR project and made sure I had coffee on long afternoons in the admin building; Seema and Smitha, who I could always count on for a friendly smile at the HR/IR office; the guesthouse caretakers who ensured I had my Bisleri water at all times; and of course, Sunil and the departmental heads who introduced me to culinary gems of Mumbai and taught me Hindi songs and phrases whenever possible.  Every acquaintance, in one way or another, created the world I miss very much.  Those involved in my project listened to my final recommendations critically and honestly.  Those not directly involved taught me everything I know about the complicated mores of family and faith.  And as I rev my engines for the second year of the MPA, a piece of me is still in the suburbs of Bombay, the industrial reaches of Tarapur, the ripples of bindis, saris and namastes.  I’m OK with that.

As always, my mother helped cushion the aching heart.  She flew to Mumbai to meet the Tata family who made my summer so beautiful, and a monsoon welcomed her with open arms and sizeable floods.  Quite a few teary hugs, karaoke hits and thank yous later, we flew to Udaipur, the City of Lakes…made our way to the Taj Mahal at sunset and the Qutb Minar in the calm before a storm…hauled up some fishing nets in Cochin…and basked in the simple beauty of Kerala on a houseboat that wound through the coconut-scented backwater canals.

After a week of travel, we left Bombay with the typical nostalgia of a vacation grinding to a halt, and I stopped in London for a night to swap kurtas for heels before heading to my best friend’s wedding in Chicago.  She was a gorgeous, calm bride, and I danced the night away with friends I hadn’t seen for years. 

I stumbled home on little sleep and a lot of emotion with a high fever, prompting me to hide out for a week recovering from a whirlwind of a summer.  Once I discovered it was just the flu and not something exotic like a bout of malaria, I was as optimistic as ever.  As I re-claimed my energy, I showed some close LSE friends from Japan, France, London and Italy, around my hometown – the joys of clams, bays and beaches.  And woosh.  Before I knew it, here I am, back in London, re-settling, re-orienting…revived.

I intend to keep you posted on my second year in the MPA.  Updates likely won’t be as frequent as those in India, and likely much nerdier, but stay tuned if you wish!

Saturday night happened, and it happened with a bang.  The Kurgaon colony came alive, bustling and active with a consistently full dining room, occupied bungalows, massive party tents and excited chatter.  Mr. Muthuraman was greeted at the helipad with a grand welcome by Tata Steel officers in pressed white shirts and their beautiful wives in colorful saris.  Children sat on the nearby scaffolding to watch the rare event of a helicopter landing, and by the time evening rolled around, Kaushik and I had deliriously rehearsed our emcee skits in front of friends innumerable times.  I wore a new korta that I was saving for a special occasion, and when I raced back to my room to change shoes before the show, Sunil grabbed me and directed me to a few officers’ wives, who put on the first bindi I’ve ever worn.

The auditorium was ready…and warm.  The fans were on full force, but in addition to sweaty palms, Kaushik and I were sweating bullets.  After a photography session with Mr. Muthuraman and a lucky chat with him about CSR, LSE and India, Kaushik and I took the stage.  I was assured by my friends and coworkers that the anchoring went OK - I’m not sure I believe them, but Kaushik and I did our best to bring some fun and jokes to the show, often at the expense of my Hindi knowledge.  Mera naam Amanda hai (my name is Amanda) said in my token American accent really did make the crowd chuckle.

The night was a huge hit, thanks to a skit that brought a Bollywood version of Borat to our steel plants and an exposition of Tata Steel Wire Division Officers’ oft-hidden singing and dancing skills.  They worked for weeks on a recorded and produced rendition of Give Me Some Sunshine from 3 Idiots, changing the lyrics to declare that Global Wires will be the global leader in wires by 2014.  Each department did a verse that brought together technical jokes and personal wit, while Shyam and Sunil air-jammed away on the guitar and officers “rolled the wire” in the back row.  By the end, Wiron faced off against their top two competitors on a makeshift awards podium, and when revealed that Wiron was #1, confetti flew and the crowd of over 300 roared.  

A sense of pride and enthusiasm took over the hot stage, and when Mr. Muthuraman said a few words afterwards, he noted the incredible initiative and exceptional nature of the entire event.  Such a welcome is rare he said - but then again, not entirely shocking - because this is Tata Steel.

The whole night just confirmed what I’ve observed from the start.  From welcoming me as an intern to welcoming a true leader in Tata Steel, Sunil - Global Wires’ EIC - and the entire team at Wires put so much in energy into doing it well and doing it with joy.  After the show, we celebrated with a few drinks and chats with good friends and by the time the clocks struck midnight and India’s Independence Day rolled in, Sunil, Shyam and I, not surprisingly, were on stage singing Hotel California.  After a few songs with Global Wires’ colleagues all the way from Thailand and China, we called it a night and woke up bright and early for the holiday festivities.

Unlike the ubiquitous American flag, the Indian flag is only raised twice a year - on Independence Day, August 15th, and Republic Day, January 26th.  With a traditional salute and a proud Jana Gana Mana, I saw both the flag hoisting at Kurgaon Colony by Mr. B Muthuraman and the flag hoisting at Tarapur Vidya Mandir (TVM) School by Mrs. Muthuraman.  With the lovely women of TISWISH, we watched as the students sang and recited speeches about their independence both in Hindi and English, and then traveled to a local Marathi school to donate benches so the students don’t have to sit on the floor.  

Afterwards, I briefly presented to TISWISH and Mrs. Muthuraman about some of the activities being carried out in the community by Tata Steel Wire Division, and the evening brought together students from all around Tarapur to our auditorium for a dance competition, with tons of green, white and red costumes and colors taking over the same stage that only the night before was heralding over fifty years of wire history and my bad Hindi.

The weekend was intense - after the helicopter took off on Sunday afternoon, we all crashed with exhaustion.  And as everyone took their leave, by car, by train or by helicopter, the colony returned to its typical quiet, relaxing vibe.  While I normally enjoy that about Kurgaon, the stillness irked me this time.  It’s always hard to replace friendly faces, especially when they’re peeking out of bungalows or laughing on a hot monsoon night.  The weekend was a culmination of weeks of excitement, bonding and growth - now I only have ten days left, and while I’m usually OK with transitions, leaving this place, these people and this company is going to be hard.  I’ve said it before and I can say it more assertively after this weekend - I couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend two months in India.