Family, Friends, and Me!

A little history...

It all began in Detroit (well, Rochester, but noone seems to know where that is) in 1974. Yes, Detroit, of all places! Motor City, the hub of industrial America, the rust-colored expanse of mechanical desert. That's where my parents decided to have another child and all of a sudden, there I was. At this point, they had been in America for about 4 years, and my father was on the verge on finishing his Master's Degree. My sister would have been about three at the time, and I'm sure every bit as sweet then as she is now. There's some wonderful pictures of her taking care of me - if I ever get around to scanning them in, I'll be sure to put them here.

My father graduated within a year or two and was ready to go to work, confident of his skills and his credentials with his newly earned Master's in Civil Engineering. Unfortunately, this was a time when color of your skin was not an insignificant factor in the employment decision. The Civil Rights Acts of 1965 was not so long ago, and the leaching of law into mindsets is a slow and arduous process, one that for this legislation we are still going through. But my father was young and determined, and with some work he found a promising job in Chicago.

Chicago was fine for a while, but soon my parents became concerned about whether it was the right place to raise kids - it was one of a great many times when they put our concerns in front of theirs. At the time, they often heard gunshots in the surrounding neighborhoods, and were worried that things would only get worse. So my dad began to look around for a new job in a safer place. Of the offers he received, the best combination of job and environment seemed to be a small town they had never heard of in a state they had never heard of: Ames, Iowa.

Well, Ames, Iowa was not exactly what my parents had dreamed of when they thought of America. Not that it wasn't a beautiful place - certainly, with its rolling hills, lush green pastures, and freshly painted barns, it's the true heart of the heartland. But if you've ever been in a place like Detroit or Chicago, you can imagine how different it must have felt. Though at this point, after several years in Boston, I find going back to Iowa somewhat dull, I must admit that it was a perfect place to grow up in. My sister and I used to walk through the streets without any fear of gunshots, gangs, kidnappers, and the like. My parents, lovingly overprotective, used to warn us how "bad people" would try to get us addicted to cocaine by slipping it into our hamburgers, but I really don't think there was much to worry about.

The next 11 or so years of my life were filled with a whole range of interesting happenings and stories, but I can't describe them all now. Perhaps as time goes by, I'll add up incident by incident the progression of my childhood. Or perhaps its gone for good and such an exercise would be futile. Anyway, those years passed, and I found myself here in Cambridge at MIT, and I've been here ever since.

Though it's probably obvious, I'd like to emphasize that without the love, encouragement, backing, care, reassurance, advice, examples, and wisdom of my family, I never would have come to where I am now. They are still a very important part of my life; I only wish distance was not such a barrier to our communications. As time goes on, I feel I understand them better as real people with hopes, fears, motivations, and goals, and finally see in loving detail what makes them do some of the things I never understood as a child. On the other hand, I feel that they understand me less, since I am so far away and rarely have a chance to share the breadth of experience that is molding me into the person I am constantly becoming. I suppose that's what getting older is all about.

Mom

My Mom is one of the smartest people I know. She's one of those people who is beyond brilliant but hates to admit it. She did her Master's in Philosophy in India and then did a Master's in Business Administration (MBA) here in the states. She's also deeply empathic and is wonderful at reaching into other people's problems and helping them out with loving care. These days, she's mostly involved in philosophy and religion. Unfortunately, she doesn't have a homepage...

Dad

My Dad is just great. He's certainly the source of my terrible sense of humor, and is the one that got me into the painful practice of punnery. His favorites were the interlingual puns between our native Bengali and English. Twisting words and wordy twists were always his specialty. He's also a brilliant problem solver. As a child, I remember him always playing "proof" games with me, showing me how to use simple pieces to achieve larger truths. That sort of thinking has been critical in my achievements here at MIT, and I know I have my parents to thank for it! I remember his favorite was proving that the area of a circle is pi*r^2 - he must know more ways to prove that anyone else on earth! Dad also doesn't have a homepage, but with some prodding, hopefully he'll get one soon!

Sharmila

Sharmila is my big sister. I love her dearly, but I still always complain that she inherited most (if not all) of the brains and social skills of my parents! She recently earned her PhD in Human Genetics at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor and is now a post-doc at Duke University in Raleigh, NC. She's been my greatest confidant and advisor for as long as I can remember. We've always been rivals in some sense - we both write poetry, we both sing, etc., but there's a synergy between us that makes us both excel at what we do.

She's beautiful, brilliant, and in case your wondering, already has a boyfriend!! :)

She does have a homepage, and here it is!