Algebra of Hope - Softcover

DIVAKARAN, RANJIT

Softcover

ISBN 10: 147729600X ISBN 13: 9781477296004

Verlag: AuthorHouse, 2013

Inhaltsangabe

This is a tale which has been waiting to be told. The story of the Indian expat community in the Arab world. It is not always about wealth and happiness as is often dreamt at the beginning of the journey. It is not always about prosperity and comfort as is believed by the society back home. It's also about sacrifice and pain, of frustrations and confusions. “Algebra of Hope” tells the story of Indian expats through the eyes of Rakesh, a doctor who takes a job in Riyadh.

 In the social and family fabric that we live in, the obligatory fibers are plentiful. However, for ill-defined reasons an Indian expat has been told that he should strip the obligation to himself. He does this proudly in the giving years and gets intoxicated by the tag of a giver. Grey hair and wrinkled face later on tells him, “Why did you not look after yourself”? Regret takes over hope as his best years have already been surrendered.” Why should his sweat always be some ones balm?

But for some that tangle had to be ripped off at the right time..!

Amidst the frustration and despair that so often characterize the expatriate's existence, there is also the uplifting story of determination, of fighting for what you believe is right, and of self-belief. And that is what this story too, is all about.

The Author Dr.Ranjit Divakaran, a maxillofacial surgeon, is a native of Indian state of Kerala and has served in many gulf countries for almost fifteen years.

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Algebra of Hope

By Ranjit Divakaran

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2013 Ranjit Divakaran
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4772-9600-4

Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

It was his first time on a plane: Air India flight,Calicut to Riyadh. Emotions are always mixed,Rakesh realised, and now he felt the pain of parting,the fear of the unknown and the tension of beingairborne for the first time. Which one dominated wasdifficult for him to identify. Maybe they took turns.The only emotion he didn't feel was happiness. Mostof the books on success Rakesh had read mentionedthat we need to control our minds and never let ourminds control us. Neuro-linguistic program gurussaid that identifying the causes and intentions ofworries will help eliminate them. But here he was in awindow seat trying in vain to apply all these tips. Theonly scene that consistently appeared in his mind wasthe one in which he kissed his little angel goodbye acouple of hours ago at the airport. She was seventeendays short of her first birthday. Anakitha must havebeen confused at the shower of kisses and hugs in thedeparture lounge, a very strange and crowded place.Rakesh wondered why we do this. Will this sort ofover-expression of love help dilute the pain, or will itexaggerate it? All he knew was that tears were slowlywelling up in his eyes as the aircrew presented thesafety instructions.

His lachrymal gland was working. It wanted toshow its presence, whilst he did not want it to. Heknew every single tiny part of the body had somepurpose. To say that this part was an architecturalmarvel of our creator's would be an understatement,but what was the purpose of irrigating the cheekswhen one was in pain? And so the tears spilled over.For some women and children, tears add beauty, butthey definitely do not for a middle-aged man. Themore he tried to control himself, the more the glandsrebelled like revolutionaries of the sixties. He did notwant the passenger in the next seat to see this psycho-physiologiceffect. Rakesh stole a glance at him throughthe corner of his flooded eye. He had the look of aspy, as if his purpose was to catch others' emotions.Rakesh wanted to ignore him, but the man met his eyeand said, "Hello." Very untimely, Rakesh thought. Hemade an attempt to respond, unsure of the result. Theman didn't speak again for the entire four-and-a-half-hourjourney, not even to apologise when he spilt Cokeon Rakesh's trousers. The air hostess in the front wentabout her business. As this was Rakesh's first flight, heknew he should attend to the aircrew carefully, but hismind had a different agenda, and he thought only ofwhat and whom he had left behind. The seat belt at hislap appeared symbolic of having lost the freedom to goback, of his imprisonment by his own decision.

The show must go on, as they say in the circus.Here he sat with a heavy heart, but the show in thefront went on. But the show was not bad. The airhostess was quite tall and slim, her skin an earthycolour. A mischievous smile crossed her lips at irregularintervals, as if to challenge anyone who would havefaintly thought she was not attractive. The only thingRakesh could hold against her was that when she said,"In the unlikely event of a water landing", his mindheard, "In the likely event of a water crash."

This was a new challenge, added fear, like an icingon the cake of his worries. The picture of Kanishka, AirIndia flight 182, which was bombed and crashed intothe sea, killing all on board, came to his mind. Thathappened some time before TV came to his state. Howcould he remember that disaster in such minute detail?Maybe some virtual memory fed his imagination. Ifthat hypothesis were true, he was overfed. The merevisualisation of it suffocated him. A few monthsbefore, Rakesh had learnt to swim, and rememberingthis gave him a sense of comfort. I know how to swim,he confirmed. `If you know how to swim, the depthdoes't matter'. He recollected the quote. Suddenly atwenty meter swimming pool and the Arabian seaappeared the same to him. Positive thinking built onabsolute insanity was a newly emerging solution outof distressed compulsion. Rakesh was thankful for allthe positive –thinking books he had read.

Next thing he heard was, "Do not inflate the lifejacket inside the plane." He had no doubt that hewould do exactly the opposite of every instructionat the crucial time and multiply the disaster. Being asurgeon and having attended many training sessionsand workshops on managing medical emergencies,Rakesh frequently saw panic in real-life situations.And now here, with zero experience and very casualattendance to the instructions ... No, it just would notwork. Best to leave it to God, he felt.

His visual focus again landed on the tall airhostess, who was now showing how to blow a whistlewhilst on the sea. Rakesh imagined two hundred otherpeople floating along on the Arabian Sea in colourfullife jackets having fun with their red whistles.Meanwhile, he was probably still stuck in the planefor having inflated the jacket before getting out. Thewoman continued her presentation, and he tuned herout but continued watching. This was one of the raresituations in which he could fix his gaze on a beautifulwoman without feeling any sense of guilt or fear orembarrassment, he thought. She went on as if thedemonstration were a ritual, a pleasant punishment.Element of fun still lingering on, element of purposecompletely evaporated. After a few more minutes,the oxygen mask demonstration over, she concludedwith a smile. Rakesh remembered the feeling he hadat the end of tenth-grade chemistry class. He neverunderstood organic chemistry, apart from the fact thatit was well organised to ruin his school days. But theteacher was a charming young lady.

As the engine roared in the ascent, his thoughtswere drowned by prayers. Rakesh wondered howatheists would react in a similar situation. Would theytake time out of their disbelief, or would they hold onto it till they had to blow the whistle? Rakesh felt thatthere were no staunch, complete atheists. He tried toread the in-flight magazine, but his brain disobeyedhim. He thought of his earlier tears. Why is it that Ido not have any powers over my own body parts? hewondered.

When they reached cruising altitude, the airhostess strode along the aisle, reminding Rakesh of atrainee model on a catwalk. When her pace quickened,Rakesh had to will himself not to inflate his own "lifejacket". During his first year in medical school, helearnt that each and every activity is controlled bya representative centre in the brain. Watching thiswoman, he wondered if there was a centre responsiblefor appreciating feminine beauty. He never readabout one in any popular physiology book. Anyway,now was not the time to contemplate any medicalbreakthrough, both in attitude and altitude.

He looked out the window and saw no trees orvalleys moving beneath him. All he could see wasa canvas of dull, stationary cotton wool. Even theengine noise had been silenced by its familiarity. Herecollected the excitement he and his mates felt as smallkids when they spotted a plane. Even they knew thatlight travelled faster than sound, and the escalatingthunder brought all the kids in the vicinity out of theirhomes to spot the plane. Everyone claimed to be thefirst to see it, pointing up in every direction. The planealways played hide-and-seek amongst the clouds. Allthe children stood watching the sky till the vapourtrail completely disappeared. They went inside, theirhappiness abruptly ended, like spectators who, afterwatching a breathtaking Olympics opening ceremony,are told that the games have been cancelled.

Rakesh attempted to...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: AuthorHouse
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2013
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 147729600X
• ISBN 13: 9781477296004
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 302
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar