More trysts with Visas

The last time I wrote such a blog was when I was applying for the Schengen visa to Italy. It was 2010 and I was aiming to attend the Lattice 2010 conference in Sardinia.
It is 2013 now, and I am trying to fly to the US, to visit MIT and Duke. I live in Switzerland now. You'd have thought (or rather no: maybe you're smarter, and I am still dumb; so let's say, I'd have thought) that things would be much easier. The official wait times for processing the US visa from the Embassy at Bern at time of the year is 3-days. In the website, in the FAQ section they say that at peak periods it is about ~2 weeks.
I had my visa interview at the Embassy on the 31st Jan. The US consular officer who took my interview was quite optimistic that I would get the visa in 2-3 weeks time. This is my second visit to the US. (Never mind that last time I got issued a one-year visa, which expired at the beginning of this month, forcing me to apply once again. In the meantime the visa fees went up from CHF 125 to CHF 160).
It is the fourth week now, and I am anxiously counting my days. I am supposed to fly at the beginning of next week, and if things don't work out, I stand to lose hundreds of dollars (or even thousand the whole transatlantic flight has to be cancelled as well). Not to mention a most wonderful academic and research opportunity.
All the same, it seems that there is nothing I can do. Calls do not reveal any information, their emails replies are most unhelpful, ending in wishing me to have a lovely day, when in reality, I'm biting my nails off my fingers. Out of sheer desperation I am writing this blog. To have my feelings written down somewhere so that I can recall them later.

Not Proud

You know, there have been things I've done about which I am not proud. Two such things suddenly hit back on me suddenly. Two promises. Nothing life-changing, but small ones.

The first one was during the trip to Jaisalmer. We went out to see the sand dunes early in the morning. It was freezing cold in the desert; and it was long before I had become accustomed to cold that I can bear now. In any case, there were some local people waiting for us with camels. There were a couple of small boys as well with them. Small, that is, around 10 years of age. While we went on camels, they walked on the sand. And there we were on the dunes, before the sun, watching the sun come up, while these people stuck up a fire, warming their hands in it. I still have their pictures. I promised them, that when I went back, I would take the pictures on paper, and send them a copy. I do not remember now if I wrote down the address. While the pictures remain on my social networking sites, showing off to the cool desert places I've been to, no trace of the address or the pictures on paper remain. A promise that I had ignored, or simply waited long enough to forget. The only comfort that I have from the trip is that before saying bye to those small boys, I gave one of them my pair of gloves. I was going back to warm Mumbai, I didn't need them anyway.

The second one was much more dear. It was the trek to Roopkund. And it was scary, for me. There was snow all over, and I was scared stiff, and slipping all the way. I did make my way as much as the group, as high as possible. And then came back. Safe and sound. Only thinner. And promised the guides that would never forget them. Promised as usual to send photographs. And as usual did not send them. I wonder if they remember us at all. Every week there are adventurous tourists, trying to hike up. Do they remember all of us? But this thought, is just an excuse not to fill my promise. If I did take the printout and send them pictures, then they would definitely have remembered. And this time there wasn't anything I could give them, and later feel happy about it. Only their pictures remain in Google+, reminding me of the promise which I never fulfilled.

It must be well over several months since I wrote anything. As usual, lots of things change; many things happen: you get to know more people, see more movies, read more books, visit more places, get a little more experience than you had before, manage to lose a little more of innocence you had. Basically you get a little bit older.

As I sit today in my office, pouring over some some equations and trying to make sense out of them, with the snow having covered well nigh everything outside, I suddenly realize the things I am missing. Around this time, by Indian reckoning, about two years before, I would typically make a visit to the BEST canteen near the TIFR in Mumbai. And then I know now, two years from now, I will be somewhere else thinking about my time here, missing the routine things I do here, my friends and colleagues here.

And such is life.