It was the first week of February 2006. I had just finished my dinner when I received a phone call from my ex-girlfriend in India.
“There is this software company in Hyderabad looking for you. I think they are interested in hiring you.” She informed me.
My curiosity was piqued. “But how did they come across my resume, and how did they contact you?” I inquired.
“I believe they stumbled upon your resume on one of the job search sites in India. One of my friends works in that company, and he knew about our past relationship. He reached out to me today to share the news,” she explained.
The prospect of a job opportunity in India did not pique my interest, given that I was already earning four times as much in the US.
“Let him know that I am currently settled in the US and not considering any job prospects in India,” I informed her.
A couple of days later, she called again.
“The HR department of the company has advised that you could join their US headquarters office if you are interested.” she said.
The proposition was indeed tempting, as I was actively seeking a permanent job position instead of my current temporary consulting job. The idea of losing a portion of my paycheck to my placement agency as a commission was something I loathed.
An interview was promptly arranged at their New Jersey headquarters office. Oblivious to the jarring difference between the temperate West Coast and the harsh East Coast, I hopped on a flight from San Jose to New Jersey clad only in a fleece jacket in the middle of February. I was indeed welcomed by the biting gusts of icy wind. It felt like the slabs of ice were being hurled at my bare face. Never before had I encountered such intense cold and snow. I was caught off guard and immediately regretted my lack of foresight in not packing warmer clothing, and the realization of my blunder chilled me to the bone.
Thankfully, the company had made arrangements for me to stay at a Sheraton hotel near their office. I still recall the vivid memories of the morning of the interview. I fervently prayed to God while taking a shower, hoping to secure the job that would allow me to live a more stable life.
Well, my prayers were answered. I was able to survive the 6 hour interview with battery of interviewers and tests to complete. I was offered a job a week later. My joining date was set as March 20th, 2006.
Relocating to New Jersey
I tendered my resignation to the placement agency and migrated to New Jersey just a few days before my scheduled start date. As expected, bidding farewell to the agency was a bit tense since they were losing a valuable asset. They had invested a considerable amount of money and time in me, from filing my H1B to facilitating my relocation to the United States, as well as providing comfortable accommodation and other amenities. They had barely recouped their investment so I decided to compensate them by foregoing my last paycheck and bid farewell on a satisfactory note.
As if the culture shock from India to the US wasn’t enough, I was hit with another wave of adjustment – the stark contrast between the West and East. I traded the serenity of gazing at rows of symmetrical palm trees for a mesmerizing view of asymmetrical yet impressive skyscrapers. The laid-back lifestyle was replaced by the hustle and bustle of city life, and the moderate climate was swapped for an extreme one. The Golden State of California was left behind for the Garden State of New Jersey, where the warmth and friendliness of the people gave way to a more reserved demeanor.
With my meager savings at the time, I purchased a pre-owned Hyundai Elantra for $6000 with 98000 miles on it. Since I was low on savings and did not have much time to look for an apartment when I relocated, I moved into the first available accommodation I could find. It was a one-bedroom apartment with two Indian students who were enrolled in a local university. All three of us were sharing the only bedroom in the apartment. It was a non-fussy affair, until a man named Prasad arrived. He was down on his luck after being laid off, so he sought refuge in our apartment temporarily while he looked for a better job. He was surviving on unemployment benefits and an under-the-table job that kept him working odd hours from 10 pm to 4 am.
In time, two more guys joined us with the same temporary need, and our once-tranquil abode soon became a bustling Indian town. We were six guys living in that tiny apartment, and the chaos was indescribable. The apartment was in a constant state of activity, with everyone having different work schedules that often overlapped, leaving the kitchen and bathroom in use pretty much round the clock. The place was noisy, messy, and dirty. I was in no position to protest since I was not the leaser, and I was just staying temporarily until I found my own place.
Arguments became a daily occurrence, and we formed groups, dividing the only fridge in the apartment into three sections. No group was allowed to use another group’s groceries, and it became too confusing at times. Every time we opened the fridge, we were faced with these vexing questions.
“Are these my tomatoes or the others’?”
“I hope these are my lemons.”
“Ah…I ran out of green chilies. Let me sneak in a few from someone else’s section. They wouldn’t know.”
One of the roommates was constantly on the phone speaking to his family and friends in India at the top of his lungs which irritated everyone. Another one had a snoring problem. He refused to take his bed to the living room to let all of us sleep in peace in the only room all of us shared. His snoring and the other roommate’s odd work hours were taking a toll on my sleep, and I was already warned at work for coming in late. One night, his snoring reached a new high, and I lost my cool. I shook him and said, “Can you stop snoring or sleep in the living room?”
He woke up, looked at me with resentment, and went back to sleep. His eyes were brimming with fury, and in a few minutes, he resumed snoring.
“Get up! If I’m not sleeping, you’re not sleeping either!” I yelled, trying to shake him awake.
“You do that again, and I’ll beat you to a pulp!” he retorted, getting up and threatening me.
“You snore again, and I’ll kick your ass!” I retaliated.
Everyone was awake by now and were watching our standoff. We were almost on the brink of physical altercation when one of the other roommates intervened.
“Guys, if you make a scene, the commotion will wake up the neighbors and they will call the cops on us and we will all be evicted,” he warned, attempting to break through the mounting tension.
“As per the lease agreement, we cannot have more than two occupants in this apartment. The choice is yours: do you want to sleep in your beds tonight, or on the streets?”
These words of wisdom resonated with everyone. The snoring roommate complied and moved his bed to the living room. Finally, peace and quiet prevailed, and everyone slept soundly. Looking back, it’s hard to fathom how I managed to endure three months of such bedlam. Fortunately, as the saying goes, “This too shall pass.”, everyone went their way after a few months once they found stable jobs. As for me, I was relieved to move on to a new apartment with a private room, where I could finally rest easy.
