All names, characters and incidents portrayed below are entirely real. If you identify with anyone, it was probably you :)
Chennai, 2006
I'm back in the past. It's a scorching Tuesday morning, and I'm riding the bus to school once again. There's a glint in my eye. I'm not getting picked on today - the school bully is absent, which in itself makes it a particularly good day. But that's not why I'm excited. The savory aroma from the canteen wafts its way to my nose. In my pocket, I have the goods: pocket money worth 5 rupees, for my bimonthly wheel chips splurge. But today, I restrain myself. I have a brilliant idea. I don't feel particularly hungry. What if I got my friends to pool their pocket money on the days they were full, so that they could get money when they were craving food? We'd allow people to take money from the collection and pay us back later, too.
Yes, I re-invented the concept of a bank. Except I didn't account for the fact that there were no interest rates. And no credit scores. And the teacher looked at me taking money from all of you and shot me a glare. And all of you did what I now know as a bank-run. And now I know there was too much counterparty risk. But 7-year old me was confused - why couldn't we all live in a world where everyone had the best of intentions?
Fast-forward to a week later. I was over the moon. I'd gotten the Charizard tazoo from the Cheetos packet I'd been consuming for this express purpose. I went to my best friends who lived across the road to gloat about my bounty. I left my tazoo box alone in their room and came back to it, and realized it wasn't there anymore. I broke down and couldn't understand where it went. I went so far as to accuse them, but believed them when they said they hadn't taken it, though I could see the sudden addition of a Charizard in their collection. I began to think maybe humans were too hard to understand after all.
Fast forward to the end of third grade. My favorite teacher was leaving, and I wanted to do something for her. Something BIG. But I was budget-constrained, being a walking expense on two legs already... I decided to again contact my friends from the bank-creating scheme and pool money together to get her a huge cake. Why not the whole class? Well, because we would only eat the cake amongst ourselves, of course. That was obvious, wasn't it? You can just-about guess how that went. The teacher was extremely touched, and being the kind person she was, she shared the cake with the whole class, making sure each kid got their fill. Meanwhile, the small gang of cake-investors who paid for the cake (rightly) blamed me (the cake-manager) for this turn of events. All I could do was sit aside and not have any cake, while I tried to figure out how I ended up in this mess. I was absolutely befuddled. Socialism didn't work. I was now trying to be Capitalist, purely pooling money for individual benefit. Was my teacher secretly a Communist?
Books were always far easier to understand. I loved my weekly visit to the library so much, they would often have to charge me extra because I would borrow over the allowed rate (5 books/week). The world of Tintin, the Hardy Boys, Asterix, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Tom Sawyer - I could visit fantasy worlds without leaving the confines of my house! Moreover, the kids in the other classroom were talking about the new book series - something about a hairy potter? I thought that sounded like an interesting title. By 4th grade, I was hooked to the series. But study books? Those words filled me with dread. I would avoid them like the plague. Because of my constant begging, pleading and imploring, my mom finally said "enough already" and got me a second library subscription. Boy oh boy, was that a GREAT day! My mom got extra-cute drawings in her Happy Mother's day card that year.
Mumbai, 2010
I was a big boy in 2010 - a full 10 years old! My parents decided it was probably best for us to move to Mumbai - primarily for me, hoping I would pay more attention to the world around. Moving was a big deal back then - my entire world was torn apart! Everything was so different. People walked fast. Trash on the streets. Our apartment was a tiny one-bedroom, and everything felt so cramped. Mom said she wouldn't teach me anymore - what a disaster! Did that mean I'd have to learn the material myself? Whelp, better get to it.
School was alright - there was so much more tech, and so many people with different interests and ideas! I just couldn't understand how people thought. I liked stories, and I decided that history was basically stories, so I finished the entire history textbook in a couple sittings. I loved how the teacher would embellish the content in our books with her own knowledge. When she would ask questions to the class, I would answer immediately and out of turn because I was impatient for her to tell us more. I could not comprehend how the others felt when they said they didn't enjoy the class as I did. How could it NOT be fun?
For no apparent reason, moving was the start of an entrepreneurial streak. I'd sold Pokemon fanfic comics I'd written in exchange for snacks, an idea I got after reading the Captain Underpants series (I was just like George and Harold!); but now I took it to the next level, with video games. I'd always been extremely into video games (including fooling my parents and staying up 6 hours every night with them wondering why I was so sleepy every morning, learning to use the internet, and being involved in online communities). I tried creating my own game, and even roped in a couple of friends!
On a lazy monsoon day, me and mom decided to create our own chocolates, with the idea being that I would sell them. I remember selling out the first day and getting a lot of return orders the next week. Another summer, I woke up and thought there was good money in burglar alarms for some reason, so I made some very shoddy ones. Relatives who felt proud bought them at highly inflated prices. It probably wasn't even worth the material that went in. Those were fun times.
Middle school didn't make me any more attuned to human emotion - in fact, it was probably the other way. I was with my best friend from 7th grade recently and opened my middle school email to scrooge for blog content. He was laughing off his rocker saying "oh yeah, this is so you" while I physically cringed. Well, you live and you learn...
There was a turning point in my life around 10th grade: two major life events completely changed my perspective on people. First, I was told I would not be going on a trip I was selected for previously, the major reason being not getting along with others; and second, I started making a lot of friends, both in-person and online, who liked and were much better than me at math. I couldn't say I finally learnt empathy, but I'd taken the first step - reaching out an olive branch. I finally begun to understand that interacting with people could potentially help me learn and grow; and helping others was a refreshing change of pace.
New York, 2023
Let's jump back to the present. A close friend recently said "You are one of the most social people I've met!" and this made me bellow heartily. Life has a weird way of putting you in the most ironic situations; I was unable to convince him that a lot of my extrovert persona was unnatural, learned behavior.
Last week, I met him again and told him I was going to write a blog called "A love letter to my friends". This is that blog. It's dedicated to the wonderful humans who changed my life.
Not that long ago, I had a disagreement with someone who was very close to me. She thought people couldn't change. And I hope I managed to change her mind, if only a little. Because all of you taught me how to change; how to become the best version of myself. And that's what growing up is all about! I met a lot of you from middle school recently - and it made me happy to see what amazing things you're up to. Thank you for opening up to me about your experience - thinking about events from your lens reinforced to me the diversity of homo sapiens.
Maybe we've been childhood pals. Maybe you're the kind stranger on the train in Switzerland who taught me to live life in the moment. Maybe you're the classmate who saw my bruise and immediately offered a bandage. Maybe you're the student who told me I was doing a great job despite my stuttering. Maybe you're the mentor who was straight with me and told me I needed to really understand my project inside-out. Maybe you're the friend who sent me an anonymous gift on my birthday saying we'd be friends forever. Maybe you're the senior who steeled me to take the plunge and to not give in to what everyone else thought was the right decision. When I was devastated, maybe you invited me home and let me stay the night. When I was in doubt, maybe I called you and you got my thoughts in order. Maybe you flew over for my sake. I'd do the same for you in a heartbeat. Sometimes I wonder if you still listen to rock music when you work. Do you still play the drums like a man possessed? I hope you've been getting enough sleep. How long is your Duolingo streak now? I hope you've been taking care of your arms after your surgery. I often think about that beanie you knit. I sometimes walk around the house wearing the panda hat you gifted me. Thank you.
You're someone I admire. The way you make people at ease with your words. The way you rouse up a crowd, and get people motivated. You work your magic with a guitar, and you leave me captivated. You work from the shadows, making people laugh with your creations. Your paintings evoke strong emotions. You always fight for the causes you believe in. You're building something you love. Of course I want to see the finished product - I was already enraptured listening to you talk about it! You walk with poise and purpose, your head always held high. I want to see you open that restaurant you dreamed of. When you direct your first movie, I'd be in the audience, clapping my heart out.
You've taught me a lot of things. You've shown me what I can be. And of course, you've said things I've taken to heart and worked on. I've always been hard on myself, and I'm working on a lot of things. I'm trying to become a more complete person everyday. But it's important to realize the effect you've already had on me.
You were at my apartment at 4am, and told that I needed to lose weight for health. I really, really tried. And it worked. I've lost about a pound a week for the last two years. There's so much left to go, but you helped me turned my life around.
You comforted me and told me I was good enough back when I was kicked from my ICPC team. I practiced at nights, from 1am to 6am multiple times a week. You were there with me. And it worked.
You taught me that life was more than academics. I spent a quarter with no academic classes whatsoever. And it worked. I re-ignited my love for teaching, and I gained valuable perspective in various other aspects of life - music, dance, comedy and games.
Recently, I started running polls on my Instagram. From thinking of decisions as a high-dimensional action space and realizing I needed to explore more of it came a desire to start including epsilon randomness and coin flips. And then I had an epiphany - I had a great set of priors from people I trust already! But that - and my other experiments - are a blog for another day.
I've come a long way since being a kid. And there's a much longer journey ahead. We have some lofty goals ahead of us for next year; and it's only going to get more exciting from here on. I can't wait to tackle them head on with all of you by my side.
Thank you for being the best human beings and friends someone could possibly know. Thank you for spending a moment of your time, however fleeting, to be free with me. You're the reason I get up everyday, ready to change the world - and more importantly, myself. I hope you're always healthy, happy, and full of energy and vigor. I hope we'll cross paths again - and when we do, I'll be able to look you in the eye and say "It's like you never left".
Maybe what I want to say - really, all I want to say, is - I love you.
