Anupa Patel
It was a random evening in the Fall of 2000, barely a month into my starting as a graduate student at Florida State University. I finished my dinner early and cut across from the fence behind my apartment to the engineering building to check my emails. That building had everything my apartment did not have- reliable AC, heat, and most importantly, access to a computer and the internet. I was thanking my lucky stars when I found the lone computer station in the students' lounge vacant. I hurriedly opened my inbox to see if Bachi (Bhaskar Mandala), my then boyfriend, had sent me any emails, like he normally did at that time of the evening. I was disappointed to not see an email from him, but was more horrified to see an email from someone at a1b2c3d4e5@yahoo.com.
*******
Everyone on campus calls you Savam (dead body). You never smile at or talk to seniors. You never hangout with anyone. Everyone hates you. Heard you have a boyfriend? How could anyone love a girl like you? I pity him. I hate to f*** you.
********
I had lots of hopes and aspirations stepping inside this country, of pursuing higher education, of launching my career, of clearing all of my family's debts and getting my parents into a more comfortable home, of living the American dream. That email pretty much instantly destroyed all positive mojo I had. I was petrified and became too numb to fully comprehend what I had just read. Exactly at that moment, like an angel, Anupa, my classmate, barely an acquaintance at that point, walked through that door, saw me pale, and asked me what happened. The screen in front of me still had the email open.
She gave me a hug, comforted me, and immediately ran upstairs to the office of a guy that's known to be good with computers. Within minutes, she had him trace the computer from which the email was sent. She came downstairs and said she pretty much knows who did it (it was a fellow grad student, a Telugu dude in fact). She let me borrow her cell phone and call Bachi. She helped me report it to campus security, offered to host me at her apartment that night.
That was the first of many instances over the next couple of years Anupa came to my rescue. My roommates had ratted me out to my parents about Bachi, after his visit over the holidays, and created a major emotional trauma within my family. Anupa helped with my moving out of the apartment literally in the middle of the night, and introduced me to Ysa Carry, our classmate from Spain, who graciously helped me get housed in another apartment on campus the very next day.
I did not own a car until two years into grad school, and Anupa was there to take me to walmart every week, or drive Bachi home from the airport and back. After seeing me in formal pants and blouse at a pool party at Dr. Locke's home, Anupa took me to the mall and helped me make the necessary changes to my wardrobe. She helped me decode Dr. Tellotte's accent in Thermodynamics class, and she introduced me to the comfort of bagel and cream cheese on lazy Saturday mornings. She had her mom bring me an idly stand from New Jersey, seeing how typical a south Indian I was. I have that idly stand to this day and I think of our beautiful friendship each time I make idlies at home.
Anupa is one of the biggest reasons I survived everything that the first few months of grad school threw at me. It is her birthday today, and I proudly cherish the beautiful person she is, on her very special day. Happy birthday, Nupee!
It was a random evening in the Fall of 2000, barely a month into my starting as a graduate student at Florida State University. I finished my dinner early and cut across from the fence behind my apartment to the engineering building to check my emails. That building had everything my apartment did not have- reliable AC, heat, and most importantly, access to a computer and the internet. I was thanking my lucky stars when I found the lone computer station in the students' lounge vacant. I hurriedly opened my inbox to see if Bachi (Bhaskar Mandala), my then boyfriend, had sent me any emails, like he normally did at that time of the evening. I was disappointed to not see an email from him, but was more horrified to see an email from someone at a1b2c3d4e5@yahoo.com.
*******
Everyone on campus calls you Savam (dead body). You never smile at or talk to seniors. You never hangout with anyone. Everyone hates you. Heard you have a boyfriend? How could anyone love a girl like you? I pity him. I hate to f*** you.
********
I had lots of hopes and aspirations stepping inside this country, of pursuing higher education, of launching my career, of clearing all of my family's debts and getting my parents into a more comfortable home, of living the American dream. That email pretty much instantly destroyed all positive mojo I had. I was petrified and became too numb to fully comprehend what I had just read. Exactly at that moment, like an angel, Anupa, my classmate, barely an acquaintance at that point, walked through that door, saw me pale, and asked me what happened. The screen in front of me still had the email open.
She gave me a hug, comforted me, and immediately ran upstairs to the office of a guy that's known to be good with computers. Within minutes, she had him trace the computer from which the email was sent. She came downstairs and said she pretty much knows who did it (it was a fellow grad student, a Telugu dude in fact). She let me borrow her cell phone and call Bachi. She helped me report it to campus security, offered to host me at her apartment that night.
That was the first of many instances over the next couple of years Anupa came to my rescue. My roommates had ratted me out to my parents about Bachi, after his visit over the holidays, and created a major emotional trauma within my family. Anupa helped with my moving out of the apartment literally in the middle of the night, and introduced me to Ysa Carry, our classmate from Spain, who graciously helped me get housed in another apartment on campus the very next day.
I did not own a car until two years into grad school, and Anupa was there to take me to walmart every week, or drive Bachi home from the airport and back. After seeing me in formal pants and blouse at a pool party at Dr. Locke's home, Anupa took me to the mall and helped me make the necessary changes to my wardrobe. She helped me decode Dr. Tellotte's accent in Thermodynamics class, and she introduced me to the comfort of bagel and cream cheese on lazy Saturday mornings. She had her mom bring me an idly stand from New Jersey, seeing how typical a south Indian I was. I have that idly stand to this day and I think of our beautiful friendship each time I make idlies at home.
Anupa is one of the biggest reasons I survived everything that the first few months of grad school threw at me. It is her birthday today, and I proudly cherish the beautiful person she is, on her very special day. Happy birthday, Nupee!
The 43yr old me is in utter disbelief for how threatened and crushed the 20yr old me felt from that stalker's lunatic email. I guess I am truly older and wiser! :)
It is heartwarming to read this recollection! You have a great confidant to support you, and it's always a blessing to have someone to turn to for support.
ReplyDeleteThank you Lakshman! Good friends are blessings, indeed!
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