yet another writing exercise
Sreeram Benegal came to America to obtain his PhD in Molecular Bio-Physics. The United States
is a very daunting place, and he knew once he transferred to Princeton's Institute for Advanced Studies
that he would have to overcome many trials and tribulations. Of course, if one could rise from the noble
village Sankheri to the top of his class at Babasaheb Bhimrao Ambedkar University, then he could survive
American life effortlessly.
He was given many presents by American relatives to warm his house, but it was summer and he had better plans for them. His favorite gift was from his cousin Rama - screen-print paintings of various American soups. He wanted to have them on display in his small studio apartment to let his guests know how proud he was to be in their country.
Sreeram sat in his apartment watching the television sitcom Seinfeld in order to gain a better understanding of American Culture, but the burden of hanging his prized screen prints loomed over the first day in his new home like a billowing cloud of smoke.
"Where would one go about searching for thumbtacks in this strange country," he asked himself while watching the television. It was as though Vishnu himself showered him with divine knowledge when a yellow smiley faced began bouncing around his television screen. He had heard of this store back home; how a man can purchase soaps, vegetables, and Japanese television sets in one trip to one store. After receiving directions from the man next door, Sreeram took the 605 th bus to West Windsor.
Upon Arrival Sreeram was blinded by awe. The store stood like a monolith bestowed by the heavens and stretched as far as the Ganges. Inside, the ceiling gazed downwards with more eyes than the great ruler of heaven Indra himself! People of all sizes and scents swarmed like flies on a hot day, pushing plastic carts full of multicolored boxes and exotic fruits that he knew he just one day had to have for himself. Sreeram avoided this temptation and continued his noble voyage.
A large toothless woman in pajamas grabbed an old man in a blue vest by the arm and demanded direction to the Isle of Beef Jerky. New Jersey seemed weird on the tongue, but calling an Island Beef Jerky caused him to laugh hysterically at the ridiculous notion. Interrupted, the two shot glances towards Sreeram.
"Excuse me, sir, I was just wondering if you could help me with the hanging of my American Soups," Sreeram Inquired.
"Soup's on over somewhere by groceries, aint my department," the old sage said while he escaped the woman's grasp heading towards the horizon.
Sreeram followed the wise man's advice and proceeded towards a labyrinth of freezing glass. After losing himself twice-over in the maze he caught sight of a younger blue-vested sage.
"Sir, I am wondering how to purchase thumbtacks," he asked in hopes of enlightenment.
"Hardware aint my department, but I'd check aisle 29."
Sreeram thanked the man and set fourth once more on his quest. After hiking for more than 20 isles his feet shot thunderous pains towards his knee-caps, and his eyes wrenched themselves nearly shut from the shining glare of the Ivory floor. Panting for air, he reached the hardware and informed the man behind the counter of his plight.
"Listen, buddy," the man said though blistered lips "this is hardware and in Am-er-ic-a we don't build things with tacks". Sreeram knew this; he had taken a course on American architecture, so he nodded with acknowledgement at the man's shear brilliance awaiting guidance.
"You gotta problem, Apu," the man said with a rising tone. This was an obvious case of mistaken identity, and this poor man thought he was in the company of some acquaintance or old friend.
"Yes, sir, my name is Sreeram and my problem is wondering how to buy thumbtacks." At this the man through his arms in the air to praise some unknown deity.
This man is as lost as me, Sreeram thought as the man began muttering indecipherable prayers under his breath pacing back and fourth. Leaving him to meditation, Sreeram heeded the advice of a more vigil and clean-shaven man behind him in line and headed towards the isle of Art and Craft.
There Sreeram caught sight of a woman clad in the majestic blue-vest and explained his situation with great haste.
"This isn't my department," the woman responded. He wanted to fall to his knees and weep.
"Surely you could lend me the wisdom I need in someway," he pleaded.
"Get lost, I'm on break anyways."
The woman would suffer in the end with bad Karma, but for know she held the upper hand. Time had no bounds within the belly of this beast. Without the guidance of the sun and stars, Sreeram felt like several days had came and went during his perilous excursion. This labyrinth could be scoured blindly for centuries without ever finding thumbtacks, and this was becoming more and more of a reality with each passing second.
Sreeram gave up all hope, and fell to the ground with nothing ahead of him but his imminent death. Seconds later, he was addressed by a bald man with the belly of the Buddha.
"My name is Sam. Can I help you?" Sreeram sprang up with relief and embraced the man with brotherly love.
"Yes, my friend, I am looking for thumbtacks to purchase for my soups," Sreeram explained. The man's countenance became blank, and his mouth opened wide. A minute crept by as Sreeram admired his reflection in Sam's polished scalp.
"Sam knows. Aisle 36, 3rd Shelf on the right - Home Furnishings, follow me!"
He could taste the sweetness of the fruits reaped by his patience. Not only will Sreeram be able to display his pride as an American, but he will write home to tell mother and father of his exploits with capitalism!
To Sam's great dismay, the shelf was empty.
"Sorry, all out of thumbtacks. My name is Sam. How can I help you?" Not even the wisest of men could lead him towards solace. Sreeram's eyes rained like monsoons while his hands ripped clumps of black velvety hair from his brown scalp. He ran the entire distance through the gates of the labyrinth towards the place where the 605th bus had dropped him off.
Sreeram glanced back at the beast and trembled to the ground, where he was struck by a rusty, blue Ford pick-up truck. The woman inside cursed the beef jerky that spilled all over her lap and continued on her way.
is a very daunting place, and he knew once he transferred to Princeton's Institute for Advanced Studies
that he would have to overcome many trials and tribulations. Of course, if one could rise from the noble
village Sankheri to the top of his class at Babasaheb Bhimrao Ambedkar University, then he could survive
American life effortlessly.
He was given many presents by American relatives to warm his house, but it was summer and he had better plans for them. His favorite gift was from his cousin Rama - screen-print paintings of various American soups. He wanted to have them on display in his small studio apartment to let his guests know how proud he was to be in their country.
Sreeram sat in his apartment watching the television sitcom Seinfeld in order to gain a better understanding of American Culture, but the burden of hanging his prized screen prints loomed over the first day in his new home like a billowing cloud of smoke.
"Where would one go about searching for thumbtacks in this strange country," he asked himself while watching the television. It was as though Vishnu himself showered him with divine knowledge when a yellow smiley faced began bouncing around his television screen. He had heard of this store back home; how a man can purchase soaps, vegetables, and Japanese television sets in one trip to one store. After receiving directions from the man next door, Sreeram took the 605 th bus to West Windsor.
Upon Arrival Sreeram was blinded by awe. The store stood like a monolith bestowed by the heavens and stretched as far as the Ganges. Inside, the ceiling gazed downwards with more eyes than the great ruler of heaven Indra himself! People of all sizes and scents swarmed like flies on a hot day, pushing plastic carts full of multicolored boxes and exotic fruits that he knew he just one day had to have for himself. Sreeram avoided this temptation and continued his noble voyage.
A large toothless woman in pajamas grabbed an old man in a blue vest by the arm and demanded direction to the Isle of Beef Jerky. New Jersey seemed weird on the tongue, but calling an Island Beef Jerky caused him to laugh hysterically at the ridiculous notion. Interrupted, the two shot glances towards Sreeram.
"Excuse me, sir, I was just wondering if you could help me with the hanging of my American Soups," Sreeram Inquired.
"Soup's on over somewhere by groceries, aint my department," the old sage said while he escaped the woman's grasp heading towards the horizon.
Sreeram followed the wise man's advice and proceeded towards a labyrinth of freezing glass. After losing himself twice-over in the maze he caught sight of a younger blue-vested sage.
"Sir, I am wondering how to purchase thumbtacks," he asked in hopes of enlightenment.
"Hardware aint my department, but I'd check aisle 29."
Sreeram thanked the man and set fourth once more on his quest. After hiking for more than 20 isles his feet shot thunderous pains towards his knee-caps, and his eyes wrenched themselves nearly shut from the shining glare of the Ivory floor. Panting for air, he reached the hardware and informed the man behind the counter of his plight.
"Listen, buddy," the man said though blistered lips "this is hardware and in Am-er-ic-a we don't build things with tacks". Sreeram knew this; he had taken a course on American architecture, so he nodded with acknowledgement at the man's shear brilliance awaiting guidance.
"You gotta problem, Apu," the man said with a rising tone. This was an obvious case of mistaken identity, and this poor man thought he was in the company of some acquaintance or old friend.
"Yes, sir, my name is Sreeram and my problem is wondering how to buy thumbtacks." At this the man through his arms in the air to praise some unknown deity.
This man is as lost as me, Sreeram thought as the man began muttering indecipherable prayers under his breath pacing back and fourth. Leaving him to meditation, Sreeram heeded the advice of a more vigil and clean-shaven man behind him in line and headed towards the isle of Art and Craft.
There Sreeram caught sight of a woman clad in the majestic blue-vest and explained his situation with great haste.
"This isn't my department," the woman responded. He wanted to fall to his knees and weep.
"Surely you could lend me the wisdom I need in someway," he pleaded.
"Get lost, I'm on break anyways."
The woman would suffer in the end with bad Karma, but for know she held the upper hand. Time had no bounds within the belly of this beast. Without the guidance of the sun and stars, Sreeram felt like several days had came and went during his perilous excursion. This labyrinth could be scoured blindly for centuries without ever finding thumbtacks, and this was becoming more and more of a reality with each passing second.
Sreeram gave up all hope, and fell to the ground with nothing ahead of him but his imminent death. Seconds later, he was addressed by a bald man with the belly of the Buddha.
"My name is Sam. Can I help you?" Sreeram sprang up with relief and embraced the man with brotherly love.
"Yes, my friend, I am looking for thumbtacks to purchase for my soups," Sreeram explained. The man's countenance became blank, and his mouth opened wide. A minute crept by as Sreeram admired his reflection in Sam's polished scalp.
"Sam knows. Aisle 36, 3rd Shelf on the right - Home Furnishings, follow me!"
He could taste the sweetness of the fruits reaped by his patience. Not only will Sreeram be able to display his pride as an American, but he will write home to tell mother and father of his exploits with capitalism!
To Sam's great dismay, the shelf was empty.
"Sorry, all out of thumbtacks. My name is Sam. How can I help you?" Not even the wisest of men could lead him towards solace. Sreeram's eyes rained like monsoons while his hands ripped clumps of black velvety hair from his brown scalp. He ran the entire distance through the gates of the labyrinth towards the place where the 605th bus had dropped him off.
Sreeram glanced back at the beast and trembled to the ground, where he was struck by a rusty, blue Ford pick-up truck. The woman inside cursed the beef jerky that spilled all over her lap and continued on her way.