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Kiana

Tuesday, 3 January 2023 Downtown Chicago

‘Sometimes, all you need is a little change.’

I f you stand in my balcony, you’ll see the cityscape stretch out on the left till the suburbs, and on the other side are the icy blue waters of Lake Michigan till as far as the eye can see. The sound of fire engines roaring past on the streets below fills the city. The way chocolate is the typical smell of downtown Chicago, the long, wailing siren of fire trucks is the typical sound of downtown. In the interval between two fire trucks passing by, a low buzzing sound fills the air, and that’s all the silence that one can find here. From where I’m standing on the balcony, I can see people hurrying on the roads below. Almost all of them are on their way to work, with cups of coffee in their hands, ear pods stuffed into their ears and laptops stashed inside their bags. Like ants on the march. I’ll join them in a couple of minutes when I step out of my apartment for work.

To live life peacefully here, one needs to have a routine. You work hard for the first five days of the week and then you play equally hard for the next two. The boundaries are well defined and clear. You work when you work, and you play when you play. Do you remember that proverb from school? All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy? I never fully understood it when I was in India, but it makes so much more sense to me now that I work in the States.

I quickly finish my coffee, pick up my bag and lock the apartment behind me, making a beeline for the lift. It’s empty when I get in, but it stops on the sixteenth floor and a blonde white woman, dressed in all-black active wear, enters with her pet golden retriever in tow. One thing that I’ve figured out after living here for this long is that you either need to be a pet owner yourself or you need to have a conversation with people’s pets to befriend them. But you aren’t allowed to touch anyone’s pets, or babies, without their permission. Oh no, not at all.

Interestingly, except for humans, all you’ll find here in the city are cats and dogs. Nothing else from the animal kingdom. And no, there aren’t any stray animals here like there are in India. Every cat and every dog here is owned by someone. Sometimes, people with mental health problems own emotional support animals to help them overcome their loneliness.

When I first moved here, I didn’t see a pig, cow or buffalo anywhere in the city. Then I visited a supermarket and found them all in the super gigantic section labelled ‘Protein’. They were all processed and meticulously packaged in attractive food packets and had multiple racks dedicated to them.

I find myself looking at the woman in the lift with me. I haven’t come across her or her doggo before this. Maybe they are new in the building. People move apartments in the downtown area much faster than one might assume. Let me tell you about the apartment opposite mine. Every three months, there is someone new living in it. Either the girlfriend changes, or the boyfriend changes, or the couple changes, and with that, even the pets who live in the apartment change. In India, on the other hand, people are used to living in the same house all their lives. In fact, there are often many generations living in the same house. Sometimes, the houses fall apart but the families living in them don’t. They’ll keep quarrelling over the property for as long as possible. But here, families fall apart a million times before real houses do.

I’m still thinking about starting a conversation with the dog in the lift when a notification on the AILENA app pops up on my phone screen and saves me the trouble.

Neer: Good morning! Back to routine life?

Me: Good evening. Yes, am back to the grind. What about you? Is the New Year hangover finally gone?

Neer: Oh yes! I’m back to scheduling business meetings for the week. It was a good weekend though. I had a great time partying without having to constantly worry about pleasing a partner. I could be myself and enjoy my time with my guy gang.

Me: I know! I know! You’ve told me about this many times. I’m happy for you.

Neer: So, what’s your next big agenda?

Me: Nothing. I have this meeting lined up with my boss today. I’m on my way to work right now. I’ll message you in the evening?

Neer: Okay, I’ll wake up early.

Me: Good night! Take care.

Neer: Talk soon! I miss you. And you still haven’t told me about your weirdest fantasy!

Me: Wait, my lover boy, please wait a bit!

Neer: Yeah, yeah. Bye!

I smile as I exit the chat window and plug in my ear pods to play my favourite songs. This used to be my playlist back in school. I’ve been feeling extremely happy these last few days, and the music fits right in with my mood. When I finally enter my office building and take my ear pods off, I can still feel the music thrumming in every inch of my body. Like the blood flowing in my veins, it makes me tap my feet while I wait for the elevator. If you’re walking around and doing things while listening to music playing in the background without there actually being any music in the background, then you’re dancing with the tune of life, not to the tune of life! And I can tell you that it’s one of the best feelings in the world.

I’ve just put my bag down on my desk when Emma approaches me hurriedly. ‘Can you spot anything new about me?’ she asks, with an eyebrow raised in question.

I scan her from top to bottom and then from left to right, but I find nothing unusual. She looks perfect to me, like she always does. Her facial features are just the right proportion and the clothes she wears are always in fashion. Her hair is glossy and cut in a chic style. And even though I often envy how she looks so well put-together, she longs for my dusky skin tone and thick eyebrows and tells me frequently that most women struggle to grow brows and lashes like mine.

‘I’m sorry, Emma, but I can’t see anything new,’ I reply, knowing that it will instantly upset her. But I have no freaking idea what validation she’s seeking today.

‘Ugh. Let me help you out here, babe. Check my face, the upper half of my face to be exact,’ she says with a lot of enthusiasm in her voice.

I peer intently at her face. ‘I’m sorry. But I’m really not able to figure it out.’ I hesitate.

‘Look at my forehead, near my eyes. Can’t you see that the wrinkles are completely gone?’ she demands. Emma is so self-obsessed that sometimes she inspires me to think more about myself!

‘Oh yes! It’s looking great. But Emma, I’ve always thought that you have flawless skin. I’ve never noticed your wrinkles,’ I say truthfully.

‘That’s sweet, babe. But Botox is magic. Maybe you should also get a shot. Now is the right time, because once we’ve aged a lot, it doesn’t work so well,’ she advises me in all seriousness.

‘I’ll think about it,’ I tell her with a smile. A minute or so later, she’s off to her desk. Emma’s words make me think about how insecure people in the West are about their looks. In India, these goras are considered the benchmark of beauty. And yet, after moving here, I’ve met many Americans who think my skin tone is sexy. What’s up with the world? Why do we keep chasing what we don’t have? Beauty clinics and Botox parlours are so commonplace here. One struggles to find a real doctor and get an appointment with them, but these ‘magicians’ are all over the place.

The last time Emma made me think hard was when she told me that she was always on birth-control pills and had periods only about twice a year. That really spooked me out. Why do these people pop medicines like candies? When I turn on the TV in the evenings, the advertisements are mostly about insurance policies and OTC pills for depression. Here, men think that not wearing masks is empowering, and women feel that not wearing a bra is. The world looks up to these people as the ones who’ll pave the way in the future, but I’m really scared of a future led by them. Maybe some of these people are scared of the future themselves, which is why so many goras join spiritual courses in Asia and end up meditating near the Ganges and dancing to ‘Hare Rama, Hare Krishna’ in Vrindavan.

I have to force myself to focus on work and prep for the meeting that our reporting manager, John, has called. When it’s time for the meeting, Emma and I leave for the thirty-seventh floor where John’s office is.

John is a typical middle-aged American chap. His crisp shirt and perfectly knotted purple tie have a suburban charm to them that can be a little deceptive, because behind his wire-frame glasses, he’s a shrewd, determined man with a superb eye for detail. All the awards that adorn the shelves in his office speak volumes about his long leadership journey in the company. For me, however, he is and will always be a dumb robot.

Once everyone is seated, John immediately gets to the point. ‘All right, team, let’s get down to business. How can we exploit people’s loneliness to boost engagement and rake in more profits?’

Sometimes, the ruthlessness of his words and his naked intention to make money get on my nerves, but then that’s how most businesses thrive. And we’re in the business that loots people of everything: social media.

Emma volunteers, ‘Well, we could get the algorithm to prioritize content for users by highlighting posts from influencers who’re alone and seeking validation.’

‘Wait a minute,’ I interrupt Emma, ‘we could also focus on creating a platform that’s part of a larger ecosystem where users can connect with each other and uplift the community in a genuine way.’

John snaps back at me, making his point loud and clear, ‘I’m not interested in ethics here, Kiana. I want ideas that make us money. Emma, continue.’

‘We could also introduce features like stickers with quotes about different emotions to encourage users to spend more time on the platform. There could be many more ways to keep the users hooked, but I can think of only one at the moment.’

I know this is all wrong and I feel like voicing my concerns, but I also know that John would shut me down in an instant. But I still gather the courage and speak up, ‘But that could lead to negative mental health outcomes for our users. Instead of reaching for the right resources, people might want to fall back into the social media spiral—’

‘Kiana, haven’t I made it clear enough that I don’t care about their mental health as long as it fuels our revenues?’ John cuts me short. ‘Besides, we can always put a disclaimer about mental health concerns. Now, Emma, keep those profit-driven ideas coming.’

Emma nods enthusiastically. ‘We could even partner with platform advertisers to specifically target users who’re feeling lonely. This will increase the likelihood of them making impulse purchases,’ she suggests.

‘Fantastic! Emma, your ideas align with our goals. Let’s move forward with implementing some of them immediately. Kiana, work with Emma and put together a presentation with execution strategies and projected numbers. We need to get going as soon as possible.’ And with that, John signals that it’s time for his next meeting, so we all troop out of his office.

In Western society, where digital connections surpass genuine real-life ones, loneliness has emerged as a pervasive crisis. Companies such as mine have become experts at adjusting algorithms to exploit user vulnerabilities. Each interaction, whether it’s a like, comment or share, is carefully analysed to maintain user engagement while perpetuating the illusion of a connection. The reality is that we are playing on the feelings of isolation.

Will people ever liberate themselves from the grip of social media manipulation? Or are they destined to remain enslaved forever?

It’s in moments like these that I want to start a company of my own and work on at least trying to fix some of the genuine problems I see in this world. My job does fill my pockets and give wings to many of my aspirations, but on days like today I don’t feel proud of what I do. I want to change things. Then again, not everyone has the courage or the opportunity to break free from the shackles of everyday existence and do bigger things in life.

A sense of resignation underlines the rest of my day. I wait for the hours to pass until I see Zayn later in the evening, hopefully that is. I don’t know if he’s back in town yet. I’ve been trying to call him, but his phone’s been unreachable. Then there is Neer. I find myself checking the phone again and again throughout the day, hoping for a notification or two to pop up, but that just doesn’t happen. I can’t believe I’m waiting for his message despite telling him that I’ll be busy with work all day! It’s also late at night in India. Neer must be sleeping! Should I send a message anyway? He could just reply when he wakes up. But then I rule out the option because it seems a little too desperate.

The moment the clock strikes six, I wrap everything up at work and head to Josie’s. Once I reach, I note with disappointment that Zayn isn’t there. I order a vanilla latte and settle down at a table, fiddling with my phone as I while time away. Truth be told, I’m simply waiting for Neer to wake up and message me. I must admit here that I’ve been a little bothered about the similarity between the names ‘Nirvaan’ and ‘Neer’. It’s almost eerie, as if there’s some connection between them. But of course, that’s just me being silly and a little paranoid perhaps.

At exactly 7:30 p.m. I receive a message from Neer. My heart starts racing as I open the chat window.

Neer: Hi Kiana! Good evening!

Me: Good morning! Didn’t you say that you’re a night owl? How did you manage to wake up so early?

Neer: I’ve recently befriended a morning person. I’m trying to be like her.

Me: Aha! I was about to text you actually! I had a terrible day at work.

Neer: Why?

Me: My boss is a piece of shit, and I hate my job.

Neer: That’s the story of most people out there. Why don’t you start your own business?

Me: It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, Mr Entrepreneur.

Neer: Come to India. I’ll help you with everything!

Me: I wish I could, but the allure of a six-figure salary is enough to keep me stuck here.

Neer: You can make a lot more as an entrepreneur, if it’s only about the money. But I guess it’s the lack of purpose in your job that’s bothering you.

Me: Yeah … I wish it were that simple for me to move back. Can’t you move here?

Neer: I can relocate temporarily, but my life is with my family here in India. And I also want to contribute to the Indian economy by generating wealth and jobs. These have been my driving forces since forever.

Me: I’m envious of your clarity.

Neer: Eventually everyone gets here. But tell me, how can I make your day better?

Me: Just listen to me rant!

Neer: I’m listening.

Me: Well, I feel like I’m stuck and that my success is linear. Being a woman of colour, I face challenges at every rung of the corporate ladder.

Neer: So, the discrimination is real, I guess.

Me: It is. But I also faced rejection back home in India for being a woman. I was the second girl child in the family, you know. My family is another source of trauma.

Neer: Is that why you never want to move back?

Me: Partly yes! I didn’t have a great life there. I grew up in poverty, in a broken home.

Neer: Hmm … I understand. Kiana, please know that this is a safe space. Whatever you tell me, whatever you share here will stay with me.

Me: Thanks, Neer. The thing is, I’ve never felt fully accepted in either society. I feel like I belong neither here nor there. I belong nowhere.

Neer: Judgement is a part of life. We all get judged by society for everything that we do and don’t do.

Me: True … You know, Neer, I’ve not shared so much about myself with anyone in a long, long time. Your company feels so comforting. It feels like home.

Neer: Wow! You feel so? I feel the same …

Me: This is going really great for me, Neer.

Neer: For—

Me: Hang on a sec.

A pop-up message from the AILENA app has suddenly appeared on my screen. It says that it’s time to have a virtual experience with Neer. I have to choose between ‘Yes’ and ‘No’. I instantly click on ‘Yes’.

Me: Did you also get the pop-up notification?

Neer: Yes, I did.

Me: What did you choose?

Neer: You’ll know soon!

Me: Can’t wait!

Neer: And I can’t wait to hear about your fantasy!

Me: You’re still stuck on that!

Neer: I’m a curious person.

Me: Fine. I want to make out inside a bus.

Neer: What? Why? Because I mentioned an aircraft? Or are you a copycat with no original ideas?

Me: I don’t think I need to justify my fantasy …

Neer: Fair enough. But why not a nice, swanky car?

Me: I won’t tell you! You’re just pulling my leg now. Bye!!!!

Neer: Okay, okay. Bye!

After I exit the chat, I quickly finish my latte and head back towards my apartment with a huge smile on my face. You can always walk through life, but it’s an amazing feeling to glide through it. After talking to Neer, it feels as if the earth has shifted beneath my feet. It feels as if I’m gliding!

Just as I’m about to reach my apartment and devote the rest of the evening to watching endless episodes of Modern Family until I fall asleep, I receive a message from Richa, an old friend of mine from my university days. She’s based in Houston, Texas now and hasn’t messaged me in a long, long time. What could she possibly have to say at this odd hour?

I open her message and see that she’s driving across the US in her SUV and is staying the night in Chicago. ‘Can we meet in about twenty minutes at a diner downtown?’ she’s asked. It’s really cold today and it’s also been snowing since morning. The older version of me would’ve politely denied the invitation and headed up to my apartment to watch TV. But I don’t know what’s possessed me these days. I’m so full of life. Our brains are generally so wired to follow a pattern that it takes a new person or a new experience to break that pattern. You know how we get so used to turning on the geyser before taking a shower in the winters that sometimes, even after winter’s gone, we still reach for the switch? That’s our brain following a pattern. In my case, it’s Neer’s presence that has forced me out of my patterns. So, I agree to meet Richa and set the location she’s sent on my navigation app.

A little later, I walk into a bustling bar and quickly scan the room, searching for Richa’s familiar face. And there she is, sitting at a table near the back, her infectious smile lighting up the dim interiors. I make my way over to her, a rush of mixed feelings surging inside me.

‘Richa! It’s been way too long!’ I greet her with a warm hug.

‘It has, hasn’t it?’ She laughs as she hugs me back.

And in that very moment, I’m reminded of her effervescence and energy from our college days. ‘I know, right? But better late than never!’

We settle into our seats and order a glass of wine each. ‘You’re on a road trip across the US? Solo, right?’ I ask, unable to contain my excitement.

‘Yes, it’s been incredible,’ she replies. Her eyes sparkle as she continues, ‘I’ve seen so many amazing places and met so many fascinating people. Not to forget, I’ve caught up with many old friends.’

I can’t help but feel a little envious of her adventurous spirit. While I’ve been stuck in the same city, working the same job day in and day out, she’s been out there, living life to the fullest.

‘I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to,’ she says, forcing me to snap out of my reverie.

So, I begin to tell her about my own life, about the ups and downs, the twists and turns it’s taken after our university days. I share some meaningless stuff, acutely aware of how small my world is compared to hers. But Richa listens intently, offering words of encouragement and support whenever they’re needed. And as I talk, I find myself opening up to her in a way I haven’t done with anyone else in a long time. I’m surprised with myself, but I’m just following Neer’s advice about sharing my feelings without fearing judgement. Sometimes, some people become a part of your thoughts no matter how much you want them to stay away. Neer was clearly one of those people for me. I must admit though, it did feel nice to take the load off my chest.

‘Now tell me, what made you take this road trip?’ I ask Richa as we sip our drinks. ‘I’ve been wanting to do so many things but somehow, I’ve never been able to take that crazy plunge. How did you do it?’

‘Okay, so it’s a bit of a long story. I was out shopping at a supermarket for groceries. It was a week or two before Christmas and I had some friends coming over for dinner. I was in the condiments aisle, holding a bottle of ketchup in my hands, when I nearly dropped it because I heard a gunshot. Turns out, an armed person on the floor above ours had opened fire on the people there. I literally peed in my pants as I ran out of the store and drove straight home without looking back. I was scared to death, and that night, I promised myself that I was going to do everything I wanted to because life comes with an expiry date, just like that bottle of ketchup that I’d been holding in my hands.’

‘God, Richa, that must’ve been so harrowing,’ I say, leaning forward to hold her hand and offering her a tissue to wipe the tears rolling down her face. ‘What is up with these people? America is no one’s land. It’s definitely not entirely theirs. Even they got here a couple of generations ago. So, it’s basically a land of immigrants. They’re the older immigrants and we are the new ones. What is up with their arrogance?’

‘Fuck the guns!’ Richa shouts at the top of her voice.

‘Yeah! Fuck them!’ I say, raising my glass and gulping the rest of my drink down in one go. ‘Okay, let’s forget about all this. Now tell me, what’s been your best experience on this trip so far?’

‘Oh! It has to be the time I spent in Virginia! The sun just felt different there. I stayed in a cosy cottage nestled amongst the hills in the countryside, and the sun’s rays would stream in through the windows, warming up the cottage and my heart. They shimmered and sparkled, and it was so pure and so nice. I’ve seen sunlight filtering in through a window so many times before, but in Virginia, it was magical … it’s not something that can be explained. What a wonderful start to the new year it was!’ She grins.

‘Sounds amazing! What’s it that you’re really seeking from this adventure?’ My curiosity really knows no bounds.

‘Nothing! I’m just living in the present and going with the flow. There’s no agenda!’

Before we know it, hours have passed and the bar is starting to empty out as the night wears on. But we’re in no hurry to leave. We’re lost in the comfort of each other’s company. Maybe I haven’t spoken this much to anyone after leaving university. Maybe this is what I needed. When we finally make our way outside into the icy cold night, I can’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for this chance to reconnect with an old friend. In a world that often feels chaotic and uncertain, moments like these remind you of the importance of friendships, of human connection.

‘Thanks for tonight, Richa,’ I say as I hug her before we part ways. ‘It’s exactly what I needed.’

She smiles, her eyes twinkling in the glow of the streetlights. ‘Anytime, my friend. Anytime. Come to Houston and stay with me!’

And that reminds me that I should offer her my place for the night. ‘Why don’t you stay with me tonight? We can walk back to my apartment. We’re too drunk, and you shouldn’t be driving.’

‘All right, let’s go!’ she agrees readily.

‘I missed us,’ I tell her on the way back.

‘I kept messaging you, but you just stopped keeping in touch with everyone,’ she reminds me.

‘I know. That was a huge mistake. I need to get back to my friends …’

We’re close to the subway when a junkie suddenly appears out of nowhere and begins to chase us. We break into a run; thankfully, my apartment’s just a few metres away. Eve teasing and chasing after women is not just a thing in India; it exists practically everywhere in the world. You can certainly dress up in any way you want here, but it doesn’t guarantee that no one will chase you.

I realize that I was a different person when I entered the bar earlier in the evening, and that I’m a completely different person now, after coming out of it. Sometimes, all you need is a little change from your everyday routine to understand where you’re going wrong. Because it’s the little things that matter in life.

As we enter my apartment, laughing and chatting away, it dawns upon me that taking a relationship for granted creates distance, and that this distance is not just physical, it’s also emotional. Just like it’s important to water a plant every day, investing in a relationship and nurturing it despite the distance is crucial.

When things go wrong, we often tell ourselves that we’ve hit the lowest point possible and that nothing worse could happen, until it happens yet again. So, what’s the point? The point is that our frame of reference is always the past, but if at all we consider the possibility of things going well or even not so well in the future, we’ll have so much more acceptance and gratitude for our present, won’t we?