Rahul Biswas

Meenu and Pael sat quietly in the back of the Toyota Land Cruiser as Meenu’s father parallel parked it between a Mazda RX-7 and a Mercedes 560SEL. As soon as he killed the engine, the two girls scampered out, unloaded their pails, shovels, rubber tubing, air compressor, and ran to the beach. Miles upon miles of clear white sand marked the edge of Washington State. Seagulls passed overhead and the day was clear and hot. It was rarely sunny in this region, but this week was especially hot so the two families had decided to come out to the beach.

Apparently, many others had the same idea and the beach was occupied but not crowded. There were a lot of young technical types flipping the pages of their device driver printouts while their children played unnoticed with sand and seashells. Microsoft had built a new facility in the area and a lot of computer people had moved in; Pael had lived here for many years but Meenu had moved in a few years ago because her mom had joined the new Microsoft branch. Meenu’s dad continued work at Boeing but had a longer commute. Meenu lived closer to Pael now and they went on outings together more often.

Today, the two of them were intent on building a sandcastle. They had plopped their equipment down on the sand and they now stared out at the sea. Meenu was wearing pink shorts and a red T-shirt. She had pink slippers on her feet. Pael preferred green. She had a green T-shirt and green shorts. She had green slippers on her feet. Meenu pulled out her plan for the castle from inside a purple bucket.

“O.K. Pael, we pile sand” instructed Meenu to her companion. Pael and Meenu began to gather the sand in a large pile with their shovels. Soon, they had a large, shapeless heap of dry sand. The sand was especially dry as they had begun construction far from the waters edge and the day was very hot.

“What this Meenu?” asked Pael. She had gotten tired of digging and now sat beside their blob.

“This is airport. We go Hong Kong from here.” Meenu had to fly to Hong Kong before she could proceed onto Mumbai. Pael actually went via Tokyo to Calcutta but she accepted Hong Kong as an equally likely destination.

“There no plane” noted Pael.

“Yes, it not look like airport. It need be boxy," concluded Meenu. The two of them transformed the heap into a large central complex with multiple terminals, a control tower, and a multistory parking lot.

“No plane! No plane!” insisted Pael. Meenu pondered the problem for a while.

“You get seashell there,” explained Meenu as she pointed to the waters edge, “those our plane.” Pael ran off to gather some seashells. She returned with a handful and soon 747-100 aircraft waited to take off for Hong Kong, Kuala Lumpur, and other such destinations. The two girls stood back to admire their handiwork.

“Plane very pretty” noted Meenu. Pael was pleased to receive the recognition.

“Where public live?” asked Pael.

“We make house here” replied Meenu, pointing south of the airport. They left some room in between so that the people would not have to tolerate the noise of planes flying overhead. The houses turned out to be little squares with pyramidal roofs on top. There were streets running through the small town and a highway going to the airport. Pael tried to make a river and a bridge spanning it but the pails of water she poured to create the river were continuously soaked up by the thirsty sand.

“People work. Otherwise they unemploy. Unemploy bad” noted Pael. They did not know where people worked since they did not work so they ran to Pael’s mother to help them explain. She was grading midterm exams for her multivariable calculus class.

“Most people work in an office building” explain Pael’s mother.

“What office building look like Mashi?” questioned Meenu.

“They are tall, square buildings; do you remember the time your parents took you to Los Angeles? Most of those buildings were office buildings.”

“O.K.” said Meenu and they both ran back to their structure. A solitary cloud passed quickly overhead. The girls started building their industrial zone full of office complexes. A large mangy dog soon appeared on the scene though and started to destroy the edge of the industrial zone. Pael ran to the dog and began to beat it with her hands but the dog continued oblivious to her efforts. Meenu ran to the ocean with a bucket, filled it, and ran back. She threw the water at the dog with all her might. The dog, now drenched, cried out and quickly departed from the scene. Meenu filled the bucket and left it nearby in case other dogs decided to visit. Meenu and Pael repaired the damage done to their growing metropolis.

“Girls, you also need factories to produce finished consumption goods” called out Pael’s mother from afar. The two girls allocated the eastern zone for manufacturing built a large network of factories. The roads here were wider so that big trucks could pass through. Meenu built a maze of rotaries and overpasses to ease traffic congestion.

“We need gate protect city” explained Meenu. The two built a two tiered fence system around their city. The inner fence was high and would be an impassable barrier to go over. In case anyone tried to dynamite his or her way or tunnel in, a second gate was built around it but lower. This way, if infiltration was detected, the transgressor would be caught in between two gates. At one side of the gate, there was an opening for legitimate commerce to take place. In a recessed corner, Meenu build a prison to control criminal populations. She made watchtowers around the prison so that nobody could escape. She also built a temple in the center of the city so that people would not commit as many crimes.

“What we do enemy tank come?” demanded Pael.

“We have industry. Need military.”

“Yes, have military-industrial complex” affirmed Pael and the two of them built a military complex next to the industrial zone. It was adjacent to the airport so that B2 bombers could destroy any foreign legions. There were large warehouses to store tanks in and a separate road was built out of the city in case enemy troops seized the primary one.

Major construction was now complete and the two girls looked at their city. Something was evidently still wrong. They did, after all, live in Seattle.

“No water. Must have reservoir,” realized Pael. The two girls put in canals to their major sectors and built a major tributary to a large reservoir. They spent a great deal of time digging this reservoir (in case of drought) and they built walls around it so it could hold more water. The wall was lower on one side so they could climb in and out. The reservoir stood north of the city. The main tank stood to the east of the city but subsidiary tanks covered the northern and southern zones. The tanks were inside city walls but the northern fence had to be rebuilt to accommodate the large reservoir. A solitary cloud passed over their heads as they worked.

The two girls now filled their pails with water and poured it into their reservoir. No matter how much they poured in, the sand soaked it all up. As they stood and considered their quandary, the wet sand dried up.

“We use air compressor” explained Meenu. She and Pael carried the heavy air compressor down to the edge of the beach. She attached the rubber tubing and carried it into the ocean. The other end went into the reservoir. She turned the air compressor on but nothing happened. She ran to her father.

“Baba! Baba! Air compressor no go” complained Meenu. Meenu’s father brought her the diesel generator from the Land Cruiser and attached it to the air compressor.

Meenu and Pael examined the generator. They hit the trigger but nothing happened. After some inspection, Pael opened the dial on the tank. Now the trigger produced a low hum and the air compressor came to life. A great many bubbles emerged in the water.

Meenu unhooked the tubing and reattached it on the other side. Pael ran back to the tank to inspect the filling of the tank. At first, hot air filled the tank but soon water was pouring out. The sand initially continued to soak up the water.

“More water!” ordered Pael. Meenu opened the nozzle on the generator and it roared to life. The air compressor gauges swung into action and it grew noisy as well. Meenu ran back to the city to inspect the progress. Apparently, not much was happening.

Suddenly, a great stream of water emerged from the tube. The reservoir was filling quickly and Pael, sitting inside, was getting thoroughly drenched. Now the reservoir was full and the canals were as well. Water was pouring over the walls of the reservoir and the canals were also flooding the city streets. Pael finally climbed out of the reservoir, thoroughly drenched. Meenu took Pael to Pael’s mother and then ran back to the air compressor. She turned it off and the floodwaters soon subsided.

Pael had in the interim returned with dry clothes. She was now dressed in a blue T-shirt and white shorts. Meenu carried the nozzle of the tube to the east of the city and dug a river from there back to the ocean. As she turned on the generator, water started gushing out and soon a mighty river snaked its way south. Meenu cut a tributary back to fill her reservoir. Another cloud passed over them.

Pael finished the conduit and water flowed merrily in their city. Meenu and Pael cut a drainage pipe so that water would leave the city and rejoin the city. Unfortunately, now their canals only had a trickle of water going through. The pressure in the reservoir had dropped too much. The girls were perplexed. A talking monkey was passing by and explained the concept of pressure equilibrium to the two girls. It was the roommate of the monkey that would later go to Berkeley.

“We build dam” stated Meenu.

“What dam?” asked Pael.

“Dam is wall stop water” explained Meenu. They built a dam in the river horizontal from their city. Water flow continued normally afterwards.

“Meenu, Pael, lunchtime” called out Meenu’s mother as the reservoir reached its equilibrium point. The two girls ran off to have lunch. Today’s main course was fried fish and rice followed by cherry ice cream from a local vendor.

The two girls were very hungry after their work and ate their fish quickly. Pael carried a green blanket and Meenu a yellow umbrella back to their city. They set up the umbrella to the north of the city, laid the blanket underneath, and lay down upon it. They cuddled up together and soon fell asleep on the outskirts of the bustling city.

When they woke up, it was late afternoon and it had started to cool down. The sand was ablaze with sunlight and the city was a beacon to the more backward sandcastles in the distance. The mighty river raged on past it and the municipal tap provided the city with adequate water for all its needs. But the city itself was still scorching. The lifeline of water passed through canals only, leaving the citizens to the arrant heat.

"Meenu, want wading pool" exclaimed Pael after she finished rubbing her eyes from her sojourn. Meenu carved out two pools, one on the north and one on the seat. After she was done, she tapped two lines from the reservoir and soon the wading pools were fit for wading. Meenu also built some fountains in the residential zone. Irrigation was more difficult here; the water did not easily go up. Meenu put an extension on the rubber tubing and brought it down under the city. She then attached plastic straws to increase water pressure underneath the residential district. Any small hole would now spew water and a series of pretty fountains were thus created.

"What do after school in city?" asked Pael. She was still tired despite her nap and just watched Meenu finish their beautiful city.

"Do homework" answered Meenu seriously.

"After homework done?" persisted Pael.

"Go visit fish in aquarium!" exclaimed Meenu. She had found another use for her abundant water supply. A large structure had to be dug and water had to be poured in. The torn pieces of a leaflet became the fish. The aquarium was attached to the reservoir and the fish swam freely in it. A few of the drains were leaking so Meenu channeled them all underground. It looked nicer that way.

After mending some roads and attaching a third entrance to the city, Meenu sat next to Pael to admire their handiwork. The different zones lay in their splendor and water rushed through the canals, breathing life into the sectors. The sun was dropping below the horizon now and a cool breeze rushed in from the ocean.

The breeze did not come alone however; it carried with it a swarm of clouds but not white fluffy clouds without significance. These clouds were black ones and blotted out the fading sun. As they entered, they unleashed their burden of rain unto the populace without hesitation. Torrents of water flooded the beach and further out, the sky and sea became one. Meenu and Pael ran to their expectant mothers. Meenu received a red anorak and Pael a green one. By the time they returned to their creation, it had already begun to lose shape. As the water beat down unmercifully on them, they carried their generator, compressor, and tubing back to the safe, dry world of the Land Cruiser. When the last of the equipment was loaded and the doors were shut, the Land Cruiser came to life and wiped the torrents off its windshield. As the last of the condensation cleared off its windows, it wedged out of its space, made a U-turn and sped off on its way back home.

The talking reindeer suddenly started vehemently shaking Meenu. It repeatedly demanded another cantaloupe despite Meenu’s protests that she hadn’t got anymore. Suddenly the reindeer faded away and instead her friend Jennifer was shaking her and trying to get her to wake up. Meenu had been friends with Jennifer ever since they were both little girls and they had to Berkeley together. They lived together in a quaint apartment on Bancroft Way.

“Get up, sleepy. We’ll miss the train.” cautioned Jenny. She was packing a small bag. Meenu got up and rubbed her eyes. She had been having a wonderful dream about talking monkeys and reindeer. It was such a shame that they had to go to Davis right now.

“I checked the schedule on your Indigo. We’re going to go on the 6:45 Capitols.” explained Jenny. Meenu had a Silicon Graphics Indigo workstation. She had had a Macintosh before, but Apple had gone out of business and it was getting old.

Meenu pulled out a cream colored blouse and a pale blue skirt from her closet. She got a pair of white stockings from the box underneath her bed. She had a little curtain in the side of the room where she changed. In a few minutes she emerged from behind her curtain looking perfectly charming.

“Did anyone call while I was napping?” asked Meenu.

“Your sister called. She said that her teddy bear has run away from home.” replied Jennifer. She was typing away at her Vectra now. She ran Linux on it but could not get Netscape to work. Meenu had tried to fix too but she could not fix it either. Jenny was wearing a pale green blouse and a dark green skirt.

“What are you typing so intently?” inquired Meenu.

“I’m writing E-mail to Chrissy.” explained Jennifer. Meenu put on her shoes, gathered her things, and soon they were off. They walked down the stairs and crossed the street to wait at the AC Transit bus stop.

“I so wish I had a car. I hate the AC Transit.” complained Jennifer.

“But we meet so many interesting people.” replied Meenu sarcastically. She had used her pepper spray three times when someone had showed too much interest in her or one of her friends.

The 51A soon hustled along. An old man who should not be wandering Berkeley streets and a scary looking man with a large cardboard box got off. The two girls got in; Jennifer dropped a handful of quarters in the fare collector for them and they took a seat towards the middle of the bus. There was a group of unruly men creating a ruckus in the back of the bus.

“I wish I had a semi-automatic. It would be a lot more effective than your spray” whispered Jennifer to her companion.

“Do you think we should get off? I’m scared.”

“I’m scared too. Let’s get off and take the next bus.” replied Jennifer. The two got off near the Taco Bell on Shattuck. The next mornings Chronicle ran a story about a shoot-out in an AC Transit bus. It was actually a 41 in Oakland but Meenu thanked Ganesha anyway when she heard about it.

While Meenu and Jennifer were waiting for the next AC Transit they met their friend Bob. He had a large Taco Bell bag with the slogan “South of the Border” emblazoned on it.

“I was heading back to Soda Hall. Would you girls like a ride?” asked Bob. He spent all day and all night in Soda. He even slept there at night. He had an offer from Microsoft and was going to start work there in the fall. He had met Meenu while she was taking CS 61A. She had been crying pitifully because it was very late and she was tired and her characters had all disappeared. He had fixed the program for her and helped her with it until it was done. He even turned it in for her and drove her home to the worried Jennifer.

They walked down a block to his blue Civic. There was a large pile of computer books (“So I don’t have to walk home if I need a book” explained Bob) in the passenger seat so both girls climbed in the back. It was a small but cozy car and definitely better than the bus.

“Where are you girls going?”

“To the Amtrak station in Berkeley,” replied Meenu. She was very happy to be getting a ride. She thought of all the things she could do with two fifty she and Jennifer had saved. The Civic went down University and eventually came to a small platform by some tracks. Bob shut off the engine and the three occupants got out.

There was no station in Berkeley but a small shed by the tracks where the train stopped. It was a scary place to be at night and many people paid two dollars extra to go to Emeryville instead. Bob waited with the girls. He had come to the come to the station once before. He had been a freshman then and had not had his Civic. He had taken the train to Seattle to go to a seminar on Active X during Spring Break. He had wanted to work at Microsoft ever since.

The Capitols soon zoomed in from Emeryville. The girls thanked Bob and got onto the train. They sat down next to each other on the lower floor of a yellow compartment. They paid the conductor and put their bags away.

“How long does it take to get to Davis?” asked Meenu.

“An hour forty. It takes longer sometimes but usually not at night.” replied Jennifer. The two sat in silence for a while and watched the lights of Berkeley whiz by and slowly fade into the darkness.

“I’m hungry.” said Jennifer. She was dreaming of a plate of cookies.

“I’ve got some crackers. Want some?” replied Meenu.

“Yes, that would be good.” answered Jennifer. Meenu pulled a small red packet from her bag and handed it to her friend. Jennifer pulled out a cracker and popped it in her mouth. She finished half the packet and put it aside.

“I’m sleepy now. I’m going to take a nap.” announced Jennifer. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep sitting up but she was soon in Meenu’s lap (“Just like a cat,” Meenu thought). Meenu was soon fast asleep as well.

When they woke up, they had arrived in Davis.

It was a hot and muggy day in Mumbai. Meenu, a beautiful girl of ten, was sitting in her cousin’s green air-conditioned Maruti Omni. She was wearing a pale peach blouse and a light blue skirt. She had long white socks and brown shoes on. Her cousin was twenty-five and adored his little cousin from Orange County. The Maruti was parked alongside a country road and the pair were sitting in the back eating lunch. Soft Hindi film music filled the chilled air where Meenu sat eating her plate of rice and chicken. They were going to the town of Ratnagiri to visit some relatives.

Bijoy, her cousin, was telling her a story about a goat that had disrupted Parliament that morning. She found it quite amusing. The story was interrupted however by a fervent tapping at the door. Meenu looked out the window and saw a monkey hitting the window.

“Perhaps it wants a banana.” said Meenu.

“It might be a progressive monkey and want some cantaloupe. I shall give it some.” replied Bijoy. He opened the door and prepared to share his cantaloupe with the monkey. The monkey evidently had other plans however and quickly entered the Maruti. Having done so, he sat quietly next to Meenu. At that moment, a reporter from the Times of India happened to be passing and took a photo of the whole scene. The next morning, an inside page of the venerable paper read “Monkey travels by Maruti” accompanied by the photo of the threesome.

“Good day, miss” said that monkey. Meenu, being quite progressive, was not amazed by this. So many things in Mumbai seemed strange to her, she was not at all surprised that a monkey could speak.

“Good day .. sorry, I missed your name” replied Meenu. She was a very kind girl and did not want to offend the monkey by calling it a monkey.

“Ashok is my name. And what is your name?” replied the monkey. Both Meenu and the monkey were ignoring Bijoy, who had begun to feel quite jealous of the intruding monkey.

“I’m Meenu. I’m from Orange County.” replied Meenu. Her parents had taught her to tell everyone that she was from Orange County unless she was in the county, in which case it would be rather redundant.

“I’m originally from Calcutta. I was taken to Berkeley, California at a young age where I was taught how to speak Hindi by a kind Indian girl. She kept in her dormitory and fed me with food she pilfered from the Dining Commons. I am visiting Mumbai with her” explained Ashok. He was apparently an educated monkey, having spent time at Berkeley.

Meenu was very charmed by this monkey and gave it a hug. Bijoy was less jealous now that he saw that the monkey already had a girl to care for it and didn’t have any designs on his Meenu. It was getting late though and he felt that they ought to be going.

“Which way were you headed, Ashok?” asked Bijoy. Perhaps the monkey would like a ride.

“I was heading to Sangameshwar, sir.” replied Ashok. Bijoy pulled out his TTK Guide to Maharashtra and saw that Sangameshwar would be on the way.

“Hop in, Ashok. We can drop you off on the way.” replied Bijoy. The monkey was very happy. Meenu climbed into the front of the Maruti and soon they were on their way.

“Are you a liberal, Ashok?” asked Meenu. She had suddenly become wary of the monkey. It had spent time in Berkeley, after all.

“No, I am a Republican” replied Ashok. Meenu let out a sigh of relief. Her father had taught her that liberals were not to be trusted.

“What do you think of the renaming of Bombay to Mumbai” asked Bijoy.

“The name Bombay is a remnant of the abhorrent colonialism that plagues India.” replied the monkey, very seriously. Both listeners were quite pleased to have found a monkey that could not only speak, but was also conservative.

They talked about politics, culture, and philosophy for a while. It was soon time for the monkey to leave. The monkey hopped out of the car. Meenu got out as well and hugged the monkey (it had properly washed itself that morning) and bade it farewell. Bijoy waved to the monkey as well, but was secretly happy that he could have Meenu to himself again. The monkey hurried along to find the girl that cared for it and the Maruti continued on its way southward.

It was raining outside and puddles were beginning to form. Meenu was alone in her room reading Teach Yourself Hindi . She was wearing a green T-shirt and tan slacks. She was practicing how to say 'I would like some more rice please' when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in" called out Meenu. Ananya, Meenu's little sister, entered the room. She had a white short-sleeve button-down on with jeans.

"Didi, I want to go for an outing. I don't like sitting at home," suggested Ananya. Meenu picked up her little sister and hugged her. Meenu was very fond of her sister.

"Where do you want to go today?" quoted Meenu. She had been spending a lot of time with her computer lately.

"I want to go to Boston. Dada lives there." replied Ananya. Pael's boyfriend had moved to Boston. He would send Ananya toys for her birthday. He was the scheming type.

"But Boston is so far away. You have to go to school tomorrow."

"Why must I go to school? I will marry a nice boy and he will take care of me."

"You have to go to school so you can go to a good college and find that nice boy who will marry you."

"But you've been at college for three years already and you have yet to find a nice boy."

"I should have gone to Harvard. The guys there are cuter."

"Pael didi found a nice boy."

"Yes. Perhaps I will find one too."

"I hope he buys me toys as well."

"I'll keep that in mind when I meet cute boys."

"Can we go to Seattle didi?"

"We would have to fly there. It would be very expensive to get tickets to Seattle for a day. Meenu didi doesn't have that much money."

"I want to go somewhere. I will be a good girl. I'll be cute. You said that would attract cute boys."

"Do you want to go to Reno? Southwest is running a special. They had an advertisement in the Orange County Register this morning."

"Yes, yes, let's go to Reno."

"Go get your raincoat and school ID," instructed Meenu. Ananya bounced out of the room. Meenu got a blue anorak out of her closet and took her purse. She combed her hair, put on some sneakers, and stuck a semi-automatic in her purse in case people turned out not to be very friendly. Ananya reentered the room sans raincoat.

"Where is your raincoat? Have you lost it again?"

"I can't find it anywhere. It must be in mommy's car." Mommy had gone to San Diego to visit her friend Manjula who had just had a baby. Meenu picked up Ananya and went to Ananya's room. There was a large pile of clothes on the floor. Meenu picked out a light blue coat and handed it to Ananya.

"Wear this. It will keep you warm."

"O.K. didi." replied Ananya. The two walked downstairs to the garage and Meenu pressed a button to open the garage door. Meenu and Pael entered Meenu's blue Audi A4 2.8. Meenu backed the car out of the driveway and soon they were off to Burbank Airport.

---

As the landing gear retracted and the plane surged over the roofs of Los Angeles, Meenu pulled a Palm VIII organizer out of her purse and began scribbling furiously on it.

"What are you writing?" asked Ananya.

"I am scheduling our outing in Reno. The palmtop says we can go to numerous casinos, a few museums, several shops, and the University of Nevada campus."

"Didn't Aditi-didi go to the University of Nevada campus with her parents? There are many rabbits there."

"Yes, but we can see rabbits in Pasadena too. Do you want to go see cacti?"

"Yes didi. There aren't very many cacti at home except in isolated pockets near Oxnard," replied Ananya. Meenu frowned at her sister. The latter had been watching X-Files too often and believed in strange things.

"O.K., we have cacti. What else, little one?"

"I want to play blackjack."

"But you are only a little girl. You are not old enough to play blackjack."

"Can I watch you play?"

"No. They won't let you near the table. Besides, gambling is bad for ones soul."

"Can we go to the zoo?"

"But we went to the San Diego zoo last week."

"There is a Royal Bengal Tiger in the Reno Zoo. Baba wouldn't let me go to Sunderban with him and I have never seen a Bengali tiger. Please didi, please" implored Ananya and began tugging at Meenu's sleeve.

"O.K. fine"

"One more place to go before we have to come home. What will it be, chief?"

"Could we go to the fair? I want one of those big teddy bears."

"Sure." replied Meenu and got up to get drinks for the two of them. She returned with a Pepsi for herself and another for her sister. Ananya made bubbles in hers until the soda spilled onto herself and her sister. Meenu wiped both of them up.

---

"These cacti are all funny" exclaimed Ananya as she peered out the window of their rented Ford Contour. Meenu had gotten a special deal with her Southwest Rapid Rewards card.

"They are indeed" concurred Meenu. The cacti were pale green and very tall. They had very few needles.

"They must have been brought here by aliens," explained Ananya, "perhaps we should go have a closer look."

"Sure. Sure they were." replied Meenu but pulled the orange Contour over to the curb. Ford Motor Company had not been able to sell very many of these orange cars elsewhere and had done an advertising blitz in Nevada, convincing the local Mormon population that orange was indeed a sober color.

Ananya jumped out of the car and ran to the nearest cactus. She was about the reach out and grab it when Meenu yanked her away.

"No little girl, do not touch the cactus. It will prick you." explained Meenu to her distraught sister. Ananya relented and sat on a nearby rock.

"There are nothing but cacti here", noted Ananya.

"And they all look the same", agreed Meenu.

"Let's go to the zoo now," suggested Ananya. The two girls piled into the Contour. Meenu buckled herself and her sister up and soon they were zipping down the expressway towards Reno Zoo.

"I am hungry," exclaimed Ananya suddenly as Meenu was merging onto a rotary. Meenu was startled and almost hit a guy on a bicycle. She swerved in time though and only scared him badly. She exited onto East Portico Drive and regained her breath.

"There is a café at the zoo. Is it O.K. if we go there?" asked Meenu.

"No, I must eat right away" cried Ananya. A Taco Bell popped up on the left and Meenu pulled in. She parked next to a blue Toyota Corolla. The two girls got out of the car and approached the Taco Bell. There was a small sign outside stating 'Taco Bell is not affiliated with any other Bell Operating Company'.

Inside, a twenty-something guy was munching on some nachos. The only other person was a small Asian girl taking orders. Meenu sat Ananya down at a table and went to the counter to order.

"Hello"

"Hi. I'd like two chicken tacos with soft shells, a chicken-rice burrito, and a small Coke please."

"That'll be $5.14, Miss."

"Here you go," replied Meenu and handed the girl a debit card. The girl swiped the card and handed it back to Meenu. The food appeared on a tray and Meenu carried it back to her hungry sister.

But neither her hungry sister nor the guy was there anymore. Meenu thought that perhaps Ananya was hiding but that notion was quickly dispelled when she spied Ananya outside flailing her arms. The guy was trying to push her into the Corolla and Ananya was struggling not to be pushed inside. Meenu dropped the tray and ran outside. The hapless tyke was now inside the Corolla which was itself making a fast getaway. Before Meenu could react, the Corolla was gone.

Meenu leapt into the Contour and started off in pursuit. The Corolla had not gotten far. It had turned left onto West Portico Drive and was sprinting down the straightaway. Meenu followed quickly while fumbling for her phone in her bag. Ananya was trying to open the back door of the Corolla but to no avail.

"Hello, Reno police? My sister has been kidnapped."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Has she been missing for over twenty-four hours?"

"You don't understand. I'm pursuing the criminal by car right now."

"I see. Your phone reports that you're heading west on Portico. We'll send out some squad cars to intercept the felon. Can you tell me the license plate of the car you are following?"

"Yes, it is 439-ZFD."

"O.K. The system is a bit slow at times … blue Corolla with a spoiler?"

"Yes, that is it."

"Squad cars are on their way. Should intercept in less than a minute," announced the dispatcher. Meenu terminated the call and concentrated on following the Corolla. Ananya was now trying to beat the driver but he kept pushing her away. She finally grabbed the gear and swung the car into park at which point it jumped up and skidded into a grove of shrubs. Meenu stopped the Contour, pulled out her semi-automatic, and ran to the Corolla. The guy had gotten out and was proceeding by foot towards a nearby mall. Meenu fired several rounds into the air and he stopped and turned around with his hands in the air. Several police cars appeared from behind the mall and the outlaw was soon being beaten senseless by law enforcement officers.

Meenu ran back to the Corolla where her sister was just getting out. She was visibly shaken but not otherwise hurt. Meenu snatched up Ananya and held her close.

"Didi, I want to go home now." reported Ananya.

---

The blue Audi A4 slowed down and took the off-ramp for Anaheim. It was still raining and Meenu was driving slowly.

"Had enough fun for today?" asked Meenu.

"Yeah. But I'm really hungry. How about some tacos?"

"You seemed to have an unhappy experience with tacos today. Are you sure?"

"Yes, didi. I cannot let the fire in my soul go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in perennial fear of the ugly and the cowardly. The world I desire can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, and it is mine."

 

The goat scurried into the back of the green BMW M3. Marie closed the goat’s door and jumped into the driver’s seat. She put the car in gear and soon they were speeding through the starry Newark night. They stopped in front of an anonymous convenience store and got out of the car. The goat bleated sardonically.

“Meenu, I want more popcorn. You ate it all.” whispered Pael to her companion. Marie patted the goat on the movie screen above their heads. Pael was wearing a green sweater and jeans. Meenu had a red windbreaker and overalls on.

“O.K.” replied Meenu and gave her friend a five-dollar bill. Pael squirmed her way out to the aisle and ran to the back. Opening the cinema door, she felt the bright sunlight on her eyes and squinted at the street in front of her. She pranced across the street to Mukherjee Popcorn and Soda. She was about the enter the red building with the picture of Ganesha holding a bag of popcorn and a Diet Coke but a tug on her arm stopped her.

A young Japanese girl perhaps a year younger than Pael was tugging on her arm. She was wearing a white T-shirt stating “The Federal Government is my Friend” and yellow sweatpants. She looked very frightened and unkempt. She apparently hadn’t eaten well for many months and seemed like she had been abused. Pael was very concerned.

“I need your help. You have to hide me!” stammered the girl to Pael.

“Why? Who is trying to hurt you?” asked Pael.

“My name is Ayumi. I come from Walnut Creek, California. I was visiting Reno with my parents but federal agents kidnapped me and they’ve been holding me in their detention center for two weeks now. I managed to escape from the bus. We were to go visit the state prison. You must help me. They’ll be looking for me.”

“I’ll help you Ayumi. Is it the CIA that is holding you?”

“No, worse. I am a prisoner of Health and Human Services.”

“That’s horrible! Here, you can call your parents on my cellular phone,” stated Pael and handed Ayumi her phone. It was a small Nokia phone. As the call was being connected however, a black Ford Escort wagon sped up to the curb. Two men and an obese woman jumped out. The woman snatched the phone out of Ayumi’s hands and threw the phone in front of a speeding Ford F10. Only a mess of plastic and glass adorned the sidewalk now.

“Hey, my phone!” protested Pael and delivered a quick jab to the jaw of the obese woman who quickly fell to the sidewalk. Ayumi started to run away but one of the men caught her. The other one caught Pael and they were both shoved into the back of the Escort. A brave dog jumped into the fray to save the girls but the woman, now recovering stabbed it and the dog fell to the sidewalk, bleeding to death.

The door slammed behind the girls and the original party reentered the Escort.

“Thought you’d get away eh, you wayward tramps?” cackled the obese woman.

“They thinked they so smart, eh, Claribel?” said one of the men who stared blankly into nothingness.

“Yes siree. You, I forget your name, where is your T-shirt? No dinner for you!” cackled the woman. The Escort pulled into traffic. Ayumi wept pitifully and Pael struggled to open the door, which was unfortunately locked.

“Here we are, home sweet home” cackled Claribel as the Escort entered a dark, dismal courtyard. A plastic sign “Health and Human Services, Home for Wayward Children” stood to a side. The heavy gate closed behind them and an electric fence sparked in the night air. The Escort parked next to a fleet of identical Escorts. The girls were escorted out and forced to enter a dilapidated wooden structure.

It was dark and damp inside. Naked bulbs lighted the uncarpeted hallway. The paint peeled off closed, wooden doors on either side of the hallway. There was a picture of Franklin Roosevelt hanging on the far end of the hall.

The two girls were now left alone and Pael held Ayumi as she cried. Pael tried the door behind them but it was locked.

“This is so wrong! Now you’re trapped here with me,” moaned Ayumi.

“It’s O.K. We’ll get out.”

“I hope so” replied Ayumi and led Pael to one of the ugly doors. She rapped on it.

“Who there?” replied a hoarse voice from within.

“Ayumi. Let me in.” replied Ayumi. A short, chubby boy opened the door and the two girls entered. Another boy was sitting on a bed eating noodles.

The room had only two beds in it. A naked bulb tried to illuminate the room. There were no windows and the floor was bare wood. The room had no other objects in it.

“Who are you? They catch you too?” demanded the first boy to Pael.

“I’m Pael. I guess I’m stuck here too.”

“I’m Henry. That there is Bob. You’re cute Pael. Welcome to hell.” replied Henry. Pael had no reply.

The door suddenly opened and hit Henry who promptly fell to the floor.

“We have a friend from the local Populist Party. Come children, come listen to our friend.” announced the man. The two girls scampered out as did Bob. Henry just lay on the floor and groaned.

“Come, little boy, come listen to our friend.” insisted the old man but Henry could not rise.

The old man pulled out a walkie-talkie and mumbled into it. Two large men suddenly appeared from outside. One picked up Henry by the collar and the other hit him.

“The Federal Government is your friend,” said the first man, “do as it says.” Henry clamored after the others. As they were walking down the hall, he fell down again. He lay unnoticed as the other children went to the assembly room.

The assembly room had massive oil paintings of Joseph Stalin and Immanuel Kant. A large, unkempt man stood at the podium and denounced what he termed the evil capitalist exploiters. He was talking about Bill Gates and Newt Gingrich.

Ayumi and Pael sat down next to the painting of Kant.

“What happens after this?” asked Pael.

“We missed dinner but Edgar will give us food if we ask. He has a cache of brownies he stole from the comptroller. He’s planning to burn the whole place down during the séance next week. He wants to free all the other children as well. We have to go to sleep after that.” replied Ayumi. The man was now screaming about California agribusiness. He looked quite red and out of breath. As his speech continued, he became ruddier still.

“How do you live in such a horrid place?” asked Pael.

“I never forget that I am in the moral right” replied Ayumi. The man on stage suddenly stopped at grabbed his chest. His face was very red as he fell to the ground. A large woman ran into the hall and herded the children back into their rooms. Pael and Ayumi walked back to their room. The boys were not there though so they were alone now.

“Let’s go visit Edgar” suggested Pael. She was very hungry.

“O.K. We have to go quietly though. We’re not allowed to leave our room.” replied Ayumi. The two girls slunk out the door and headed down the main hallway. They entered a long dark passageway. Rats scurried by them as they approached a glistening metal door.

“Oh Pael, look! The control center door is open!” whispered Ayumi. The two girls ran through the open doorway.

“Let’s hide in the closet. I know they’ll be coming back soon.” whispered Ayumi and pulled her companion into a utility cabinet. The two of them crouched there quietly. The sound of muffled voices outside could be heard inside the utility cabinet, but the girls did not know what was being said. Ayumi just stood quietly while Pael thought about Meenu and how worried she must be. Would the police be looking for her? What would her parents think? How would she get out? Such thoughts occupied her head as she waited. Many hours later, the sounds subsided. The two girls crept out of the cabinet.

The room was full of large stacks of paper. Old Macintosh Plus computers lined the folding tables and there was an open bag of Pork Yummies on the table. Pael was very hungry now but she refused to eat them. Ayumi pulled some crackers out of a drawer and shared it with her friend.

“We can call for help from here” suggested Pael.

“We don’t know where we are though. We couldn’t tell would-be rescuers where to find us.” replied Ayumi.

“How tragic! What will we do?” begged Pael.

“There is a Bushmaster sixteen inch Carbine assault rifle somewhere in the room. We can free ourselves with it.” answered Ayumi. She looked in the box marked “Do Not Touch” and pulled out the assault rifle. She swung it over her shoulder with ease and the two girls left the room.

“How do you know that there are bullets inside?” asked Pael. Ayumi answered by riddling the wall with holes. Two large men popped out of nowhere and grabbed Pael. Ayumi hit him with the rifle. He fell to the ground and the two girls ran away. The other man turned and fled. The two girls soon came to the Office of the Comptroller and banged loudly on the door.

“Who is it?” called a gruff voice from inside.

“It’s your new best friend. Open the door!” demanded Ayumi. The door opened a little. Pael kicked it the rest of the way in. The old man inside turned to run as he noticed the rifle pointed at his nose. He tripped and fell down.

“O.K. clown, let us out” requested Ayumi to the old man. The old man just groaned. Pael kicked him several times. She was enjoying the random violence as well. The old man got up and started walking down the hall. He opened the front door and the trio went outside. Ayumi shot four rounds into a nearby tree to scare the old man some more. Soon, they came to the gate. It had no barbed wire but a “DANGER 10,000 VOLTS” watched over them.

“Open the gate!” cried Ayumi. The old man opened the gate. Freedom was finally within reach. They ran through the gate into the crisp autumn air. Ayumi watched the old man running back into the complex, giggled, and cursed him. The two girls ran to a nearby Seven-Eleven where a thin Indian guy was waiting for customers. They told him their plight. He let them use the phone and gave them blue popsicles. Meenu soon appeared in her dark blue Audi A6. She ran in, hugged Pael and Ayumi, and paid for the popsicles. The three girls climbed back into the A6 and soon they were on the I-80 West heading back home to California.

Meenu had always loved the BBC ever since she had listened to the World Service in Ashok's apartment. She had sat there listening to the Sony SW-7600G. It was a very small radio but very well made. London came in well on it. She loved the precise, British accent of the broadcasters.

The plane was getting ready to land. Meenu had just finished fourth grade and was going to Mumbai. She was going with her mother. They would have to spend seven hours in London. Mother and daughter planned to visit Bush House, broadcasting headquarters of the World Service of the BBC.

Half an hour later, they were in the Tube, London’s underground subway. Meenu was wearing a light green T-shirt, blue jeans, white socks, and Nike sneakers. Her mom held her hand as they disembarked from the Subway. They got onto a local bus and got off at Bush House.

Meenu found it very odd that the sign had all its ‘U’s replaced with ‘V’s. She figured it was a British thing. Perhaps the ‘U’ was an American letter only. They entered the large stone building and inquired at the guard if they would be permitted to enter.

“I am very sorry madam, but the public is not allowed to enter the facility.” explained the guard. He had quite a lot of hair. Meenu’s mother explained to her daughter that the guard would not let them in. Upon hearing this, Meenu started to cry pitifully. The guard was very mean though and did not let them in.

Fortunately, a reporter was entering the gate at that point. He was dispirited to see this beautiful Indian girl crying.

“What is wrong, little girl?” asked the reporter. He had an IBM Thinkpad with him.

“He won’t let me in” answered Meenu through sobs while pointing to the evil guard. The reporter was very kind (and he also find Meenu immensely attractive) so he let her and her mother in. The guard looked on, rather disgruntled.

They climbed the stairs and were soon in the BBC studio. The red light was off - there was a tape recorder playing a recorded copy of “The Grand Inquisitor” an excerpt from The Brother Karamazov by Russian author Fyodor Dostoyevsky.

“Would you like to read the time on the radio, miss?” asked the reporter.

“Yes, very much so.” replied Meenu.

“When the chimes finish, just say ‘It’s sixteen hundred hours GMT. This is London.’ and I’ll put the music on. It’s written here, in the script.” explained the reporter.

Meenu was very excited. She sat down and practiced saying it a few times. The reporter adjusted some knobs on the wall. Soon the beeps came.

“It’s sixteen hundred hours GMT. This is London” said Meenu very eloquently to one hundred forty million people. The reporter hit a switch on the wall and the BBC theme song came on.

Meenu was very excited. The reporter played back the recording. A young and very charming voice announced the time again. The reporter showed her the rest of the studio, took a picture of her (he needed a photo for the next issue of BBC World) and then wished her an enjoyable visit to London.

Before Meenu fell asleep on the British Airways flight to Mumbai, she thought about how many useful things there were in the BBC studios.

Kilometers after kilometers of rice paddies stretched out as far as Charu could see. The monsoon rains had poured themselves out this morning and the sun now bathed the Bengal countryside in its glory. She flicked the light switch off with her tail and pushed aside her bowl of grass. The rice paddies had changed into kilometers of mustard seed now, glowing like gold in the damp countryside.

Charu had never left her mother or her sisters ever since she was a little calf. Nor had she ever been on a train before. She could not think of such things now. She was on the Howrah-Asansol Agnineeva Express and she was to work at the Amul Yogurt Co-operative in Kolkatta. Yogurt from her milk would travel to all ends of existence. She was the first in her family to leave Asansol and she would have to make her family proud.

A company representative had been visiting Asansol a fortnight prior. There had been an open position in the yogurt factory and a young cow was needed for the job. The pay was Rs. 200 / month, more than adequate to cover room and board. The company representative was impressed with Charu's nationalism and aversion to unions. The other cows were threatening to unionize to strike for higher wages and he wanted a cow who might thwart these efforts.

Charu's mother and sisters had cried when Charu was offered the job. But the family was growing and their rented shed was not big enough anymore. With Charu's income, the family would be able to own a larger shed with a proper roof that would keep water out when it rained.

Her thoughts now turned to the problem of housing. The company would provide one week of temporary housing but after that, Charu had to secure her own lodging. A kindly aunt had suggested that Charu find a small family with a baby who would house Charu in exchange for milk for the baby. What kind of family would she go to? Would they treat her kindly? Charu had liked the little girl who came to milk her in Asansol. But she would have to choose for herself this time. She had relied on her mother for all guidance prior but now she had nobody to rely on.

Charu prayed to Kamadhenu thusly:

"Great Goddess Kamadhenu, who is Aditi, grant light into the darkness of your daughter's mind. With whom shall I stay? Great goddess, who is Surabhi, how will I pass my time in Kolkatta away from my family in peace? Great goddess, who is Shaval, where will I find my new family? Great goddess, who emerged from Samudramanthan, how will I find solace as I send money back to Asansol? Great goddess, who accompanied Lord Krishna in his wanderings, bestow wisdom onto me, your respectful follower."

When Charu had thus recited her incantation, the train was pulling into a small rural station. Some local boys with bundles of fiber optic cable were waiting to get on. As Charu watched them, the door of her own compartment slid open and a young girl stepped in.

She was dressed in a blue sari and had flowers tied in her hair. She smiled brightly at Charu. The girl was lovely yet her eyes bespoke great wisdom. The girl closed the door behind her and sat on a stool in a corner.

"I am Aditi, the producer of ghee which the Brahmins used for sacrifice to Lord Brahma. I have come in answer to your prayers," said the avatar to Charu.

"Great Goddess, tell me, how will I find one to care for me when I reach Kolkatta?"

"Daughter, you will travel the streets of the city and seek out a young mother with baby but no cow. You will approach her and offer your services."

"Great Goddess, if there are many such young mothers, how will I choose amongst them?"

"Daughter, that is a difficult question. Look at this woodworking and tell me what you see." With this, the girl pulled a peace of sandalwood with intricate patterns in it and hung it on the wall of the compartment. The designs were beautiful but what amazed Charu the most was that they changed as she gazed at them.

"What do you see, my daughter?" asked the girl.

"Great Goddess, I see three girls. One is offering prayers and a hungry kitten is mewing sadly beside her. The second is practicing archery and a scared kitten is crouched in the corner, afraid of the arrows. The third is selling lemons in the market. A kitten is sleeping contently next to her."

"Daughter, of what caste are these girls?"

"Great Goddess, the first girl is Brahmin, the second Khaistya, and the third Vaishnav. That is why the kitten lies beside her, for Vaishnav girls are kind to animals."

"Daughter, that is your first lesson. You must find a Vaishnav girl, for they are kind. She will not mistreat you." As the girl said this, the scene changed.

"Great Goddess, I now see three urns. The first is made of glass, the second of copper, and the third of plastic."

"Daughter, which urn would you prefer to drink out of?"

"Great Goddess, I would prefer the copper one. The glass urn is beautiful but too delicate for everyday use. The plastic suffices but is too plain. The copper urn is both pretty and functional."

"Daughter, so it is with girls. You want one who is neither too pretty not too plain. She must be neither too tall nor too short. She shall be neither too fair nor too dark." As the girl said this, again the scene blurred.

"Great Goddess, I see three tapestries hung from a wall. The first is plain pink. The second has an image of a river and a boat floating upon it. The third has the schematics for a complicated machine."

"Daughter, why tapestry would you want hanging from the wall of your shed?"

"Great Goddess, the plain one is too simple. It does not inspire the mind. The third is too complex. It is beyond the comprehension of a simple cow like me. I prefer the middle, as it is lovely, and fitting to my situation. The others too have their place but not in my shed."

"Daughter, it is so with girls. You must find one who has studied the arts, not some complicated science. There is need for both types but as you are a simple cow, you must find one equal to your station and needs." Charu's eyes opened wide at the next scene.

"Great Goddess, I see three sheds before me. One is magnificent, encrusted with jewels, and made of marble. The second is of wood, sturdy and proper. The third is of thatch and is falling apart."

"Daughter, which shed would you like to live in?"

"Oh, Great Goddess, I want the most magnificent! It is so beautiful!" The girl smiled sadly at this comment.

"Daughter, let me tell you the story of the Bengali who went to Varanasi. He had traveled far and was both hungry and tired. He sought food and shelter for the night. The first cottage he came across was dilapidated and old. The door creaked on its hinges softly.

'Here, I will spend the night like a king. They will respect me highly, these poor people,' thought the Bengali. He rapped on the door and an old woman came out to greet him. The family eyed his fancy clothes and started fanning him and offering him sweets. The Bengali went to the back to wash up and when he returned, he found several pairs of eyes watching him. The father of the household told the traveler of the plight of his daughter, who could not be married because the family could not afford a dowry.

The Bengali felt sorry for these poor people and gave them enough money for the dowry. The delighted daughter fanned him earnestly. Then the father spoke again. He told the traveler of the plight of his son, who was sick but the family could not afford medicine.

The Bengali once again pulled out rupee notes, although this time a bit begrudgingly. The son was quite happy and massaged the feet of the Bengali. After some time had passed, the father spoke for a third time. He told of his elderly mother who had never left Varanasi and wanted to see Delhi. Would the Bengali be kind enough to fund this endeavor? The Bengali explained that he too had a family at home that he needed to provide for. The family was greatly upset at his stinginess and threw the Bengali out.

Greatly upset, the Bengali continued down the path. A great mansion now appeared before him. Surely these people who be hospitable towards him. He walked up to the gate and knocked on the door. A costumed servant answered. The Bengali explained that he sought shelter for the night. The servant dissapeared into the house and consulted with the family. He came back and told the Bengali that there was indeed space available for him. He led the Bengali to the back and showed him a small room. Greatly pleased, the Bengali opened the door and entered. Three dogs were inside and barked. The Bengali was equally offended at this lack of hospitality. He picked up his satchel and continued down the path.

The third house on his path was neither poor nor wealthy. It reminded the Bengali of his parents house back in Kolkatta. He knocked on the door and a man much like himself answered. He explained that he was a traveller and sought refuge for the night. The man let him in and showed him to his son's room, who was away at college. The daughter of the household brought him some chicken and rice. The Bengali would have preferred fish but ate with great relish nonetheless. The girl fanned him as he ate.

When he had finished eating, the girl asked him his occupation to which he replied he was a civil engineer. The girl dissapeared and reappeared a moment later with a notebook and pen. She asked the Bengali to help her with some math problems that her own father was unable to do. The Bengali taught the girl what she sought to know. She was pleased and returned to her room to finish her homework. The Bengali left the next morning well rested, well fed, and wiser.

Daughter, what have you learned from this story?"

"Great Goddess, I have learned to seek neither above nor below your position although there are good things outside the familiar realm. I prefer the wooden shed then. I have lived in a brick one my whole life and a wooden one is equal to my station but different."

"Such it is with wealth, daughter. You must seek a house neither too grand nor too spare, but you may be glad if you seek one different from your childhood. What else have you learned from the story?"

"Great Goddess, I have learned that Bengalis are the most learned of all peoples." Pleased, the girl pointed towards the woodwork for the last time. A play was being acted out. Charu realized it was the story of Savitri, who had saved her husband Satyavan from death through her strengths of character, cleverness, and virtue.

"Daughter, why do I show you this play?"

"Great Goddess, in all other aspects you have taught me to search for for moderation and balance. But in the realm of the soul, I must seek greatness in my guardian."

"Daughter, you have understood well. From Satya Yug through the present Kali Yug, our tastes change to fit societal fancy. But do not be lost in maya. Seek out your own Savitri, judging her not by outward appearances but by holiness of spirit. All else that I have told you can be sacrificed but on this point you cannot, indeed must not, compromise." Having said this, the girl transformed into a bird and flew out the open window. As Charu contemplated the things the avatar had told her, the train pulled into Howrah Station. Her new life had begun and Charu was prepared for it.

Meenu and Pael were sitting adjacent to the window on a west-bound Amtrak Empire Builder. They had just departed from Grand Forks, North Dakota and the train was fording a great bayou. Miles upon miles of clear blue water marked the landscape as far as either girl could see.

“You’re cute Meenu” said Pael. Pael was wearing a cream blouse and a pale gray skirt. She had white stockings and brown shoes. Pael was a year younger than Meenu and aspired to be just like her. She wore the same makeup as her friend, read the books Meenu told her to, watched the same television programs, and even shopped for underwear at the same shops Meenu did.

“You are too, Pael. Drink more water, it will help your complexion,” replied Meenu. She was wearing a pink button-down with stone colored slacks. Meenu loved Pael dearly; they had been friends almost since they were born. Meenu was a bit smothered by her friend’s efforts to be just like her though. Pael was very pretty but like most teenagers, had some acne problems.

Pael took a long chug from her bottle. The train was beginning to climb uphill now. There were only three people in the entire compartment, Meenu, Pael, and another girl named Carolyn. She had gotten on at Devils Lake and had fallen asleep immediately. She got up now and looked inquisitively at her two companions. Her haircut made her look like an elf. She was wearing a pale red dyed T-shirt with jeans. She got up from her seat and approached the other two.

“Hi, I’m Carolyn” she offered. Meenu made room for her to sit with them and she did.

“I’m Meenu and this is my friend Pael” replied Meenu. Carolyn turned to look at Pael who snuggled up closer to her. The seat was small and she was falling off. Carolyn thought Pael looked very sweet and pulled her closer so she wouldn’t fall off. Pael mistook this for a hug and hugged Carolyn back. Carolyn figured she must be missing something so she hugged both Pael and Meenu. Meenu hugged Carolyn too, just to be complete.

“Where are you from?” asked Meenu after the hugging was complete. Both Meenu and Pael liked Carolyn now that they had all hugged and Carolyn liked them too because they were so friendly.

“I’m from Syracuse, New York. I live there with my parents. And you, Meenu?” questioned Carolyn.

“We’re both from Anaheim, California. What high school do you go to?” replied Meenu.

“Oh, I graduated from Syracuse High. I’m going to enter Columbia this fall.”

“Oh how exciting! I wish I didn’t have to go back to high school again” replied the two girls in unison.

“Are there a lot of cute boys in Columbia?” asked Pael.

“Oh yes, they’re very nice too. I’m going to do computer science so there will be plenty to choose from” replied Carolyn. Pael closed her eyes and imagined dozens of nice, cute boys shyly offering to help her with her homework. She sighed contentedly. In the middle of her sigh however, the train jumped the track and crashed headlong into the sparkling bayou below.

Pael started crying immediately. Carolyn and Meenu held her as the train plunged deeper and deeper.

“I’m going to open the door. Everyone take a deep breath” commanded Meenu. The other two girls complied. Meenu opened the compartment door and water began to pour in. The three girls left the train and floated to the surface. They soon broke surface. Pael went down again immediately because she did not know how to swim. Meenu, champion of the Anaheim Girls’ Swim team, dove under and carried her friend back. All three of them swam to the support of the bridge and clung on to it.

“What do we do know?” asked Meenu. She was usually a resourceful girl but she was perplexed by the situation.

“There is a large piece of driftwood over there. I’m going to try and catch it. Hopefully, we can drift to shore” replied Carolyn. With this, she swam to the driftwood, climbed on top, tore a branch off, and rowed back to the bridge. The other two girls climbed on. Pael had some difficulty though and cut her arm. Carolyn ripped off the bottom of her T-shirt and bandaged up Pael’s arm to make the bleeding stop.

The driftwood was actually carrying the girls out to sea though. Through intense rowing efforts, Meenu and Carolyn rowed the trio to a remote coastline. The three girls disembarked from the driftwood.

“Where are we? How do we know it? What should we do about it?” asked Meenu.

“We are in a logical universe which we know empirically. We should find someone to take us to somewhere we can dry off and call our parents” replied Carolyn. The three of them climbed a hill and saw a small dwelling in the distance. They scrambled down to it. Meenu knocked on the door. An Indian guy answered the door. He looked about twenty-five or so.

“You three look terrible! You should know better than to swim in the bayou!” he stated. He was wearing a white striped T-shirt and slacks. He let them come in and sat them down on the carpet.

“Laboni, we have visitors” called the guy to his girlfriend.

“Hi, I’m Arjun. I write compilers for Borland. Laboni is my girlfriend. She does some bioengineering thing for Merck Pharmaceuticals” explained Arjun. He was competent at a terminal but had no clue how to handle cold, wet girls especially not when one had a bandaged arm.

Laboni came down and gasped at the girls. She ran to fetch them towels and took Pael to the bathroom to take care of her arm properly.

“Arjun, get them some clothes. Girls, just wear some of my stuff for now. I have my smaller stuff in the back of my drawers honey. Get it out for them” ordered Laboni.

Arjun sheepishly took Meenu and Carolyn to his bedroom. He was a nice guy but he felt awkward because the girls were wet and shivering. He pulled out some T-shirt and jeans for both girls. He quickly left the room and closed the door. He went downstairs again.

After Laboni had changed Pael as well, the five of them sat downstairs on the sofa. Laboni put blankets around the girls and gave them each hugs. Arjun thought that she would be a great mom someday. When she was done, Laboni got the cordless phone so that the three girls could call home. She left them and went to cook dinner for her new guests.

Arjun was happy to find that both Carolyn was an aspiring computer science major as was Meenu. He started lecturing on semaphore implementation and both girls listened intently. Pael went to the kitchen to talk to Laboni. She wanted to be a biochemist and did not care for computation theory.

Laboni was making some chicken and rice for the girls, herself, and her boyfriend.

“Do you have any children” asked Pael shyly.

“Oh no, we’re not married … yet” replied Laboni. “We’re going to go back to Calcutta to get married this winter” she explained.

“Is he nice to you?” asked Pael.

“Oh yes. He is very kind. He feels at home with his computer and is shy around girls though. I was working on a physics problem set one day. It was about quantum theory and I couldn’t understand any of it. My friend Sofia brought him to help me. At first he was very shy and was helpless around me. When I gave him the problems though, he opened up though and started talking about electron spin and such. I only had a vague idea what an electron was even and I had skipped the chapter on angular momentum. He explained all these things to me. In the end, I understood a lot more physics, had finished my problem set, and had fallen in love. He seemed very happy too” explained Laboni. She got some potatoes out of the closet and put them into the automatic peeler/dicer machine.

“But later Sujit told me that he was happy only because he had figured out a difficult programming problem that afternoon. I was crushed. How could he not feel anything for me when I was crazy about him? I asked him to come have dinner with me the next day. He was eager when he came but was saddened to hear that I didn’t have any more physics homework to do that night. Obviously, things weren’t working.”

“All this guy liked was computers it seemed. Finally, exasperated, I brought him home with me one night. My parents were ecstatic to find that I liked someone who was so serious. My dad talked to him for hours about Fourier transformations”

“I finally went crying to my mother about how aloof he was to me. She told me that he liked my father well enough and that I could probably have him if only on that account. She promised me she would try to talk to him though”

“The next day, he showed up at my door with roses (they were half purple and half yellow though, but it was still a nice gesture). We started talking about me and before I knew it he was telling me how sweet he thought I was. I was so happy. And this is where we are now.”

Arjun had in the interim gotten out his dry-erase board and was discussing the intricate details of how the set commands in the Sun Ultra architecture worked with parallel processors. Carolyn was thinking about coprocessor based registering sharing and Meenu was thoroughly confused.

Dinner was soon prepared and the five of them crowded around the living room table. The three girls were very hungry and ate quickly. Laboni and Arjun ate slowly as Laboni whispered to him that she wanted to have daughters just like them. Arjun thought that that would be nice too.

After dinner, Arjun dropped the three girls off at Fargo airport so Meenu and Pael could fly home to Orange County and Carolyn to upstate New York. All three promised to write.

Once they were onboard the westbound 737, Meenu held Pael close to her.

“What did you and Laboni talk about?” asked Meenu.

“She told me that boys are mostly sweet but helpless. They need to have strong girls in their lives to exercise control over them” replied Pael.

“Silly, I could have told you that” replied Meenu. They both promptly fell asleep.

Pellu was a dog. He was born in Anaheim, CA. After completing his BA in Celtic Studies from the University of California at Los Angeles, he left Southern California to seek better fortunes. He took the Japan Air Lines Concorde to Tokyo from where he went by Indian Airlines 747 to Chennai. He took a job at I.I.T. Chennai. His job was to guard the high energy particle physics lab from intruders. Pellu was issued an American made AK-47 assault rifle to deter intruders. He held it between his paws and enforced law and order.

The job did not interest Pellu however. He left Chennai and went to Mumbai where he started his own aircraft repair shop. He hung a sign outside his door. It read: “747, 777, B2, and Harrier Serviced”. At first, business was slow. Indians, not being very progressive people, did not trust a dog to service their 747 aircraft. Pellu was now a true Indian dog though, so he did the Indian thing and bribed an official at Air India and won an exclusive service contract. Soon, Pellu was running a thriving business.

Pellu was not satisfied with just servicing aircraft however. He took an Air India DC-10 to Delhi and boarded an United Airlines 747 to go to Los Angeles. It happened to be a 747 he himself had serviced. Much to everyone’s surprise, Chinese fighter planes attacked the 747 when it flew over Beijing. Pellu had prepared for this contingency however and had equipped the 747 with radar-jamming capabilities, stealth operations mode, and air to air missiles. Pellu and the other passengers soon escaped the threat.

Pellu was considerably shaken by the incident and decided upon arrival to take the train from Los Angeles to Seattle (Boeing headquarters). He boarded the Amtrak in Los Angeles and took it to San Luis Obispo. He transferred onto a freeway bus which took him to Bakersfield. He boarded another Amtrak train which took him to Emeryville. He boarded another train. He saw a riot in progress while passing Berkeley. The train went on to Davis where Pellu observed multiple cows, Sacramento, Klamath Falls (Pellu was now in Oregon), Portsmouth, and finally, Seattle.

Boeing was delighted to have a talking dog from UCLA. Pellu found himself working on the new 797 aircraft. It could seat 1,200 people and fly at 700 mph. Passengers had long complained about the chintzy speakers in aircraft so Pellu was to redesign the sound system. Using his new Silicon Graphics Indigo workstation, Pellu designed a system that could handle three independent digital AC-3 sources. He then used ten amplifiers to deliver power to one hundred and seventy speakers strategically located throughout the aircraft. The amplifiers each had their own capacitor banks designed to capture thundering bass. In addition to his speakers, Pellu included thirty powered subwoofers.

The design was a success. Aeroflot was the first to purchase the new 797. Communists, muzhiks, and goats all discoed to the electrifying beat of ska music during the maiden flight from Moscow to Guantanamo Bay (Cuba).

Pellu was getting old now however and went to Calcutta (Boeing lent a new 797 for his journey). He found an apartment in Diamond Harbor and is still living there today.

Step 1: Download GSL 1.10 (the regular, non-Windows version) and untar it.

Step 2: Get the Windows extension at http://fp.gladman.plus.com/computing/gnu_scientific_library.htm and unzip it so that the directory trees overlap.  There is more information about this overlap business in the zip file.

Step 3: Open up the solution file
<installation directory>\gsl-1.10\build.vc8\gsl.vc

Step 4: Under ‘Solution Items’, right click on ‘gslhdrs’ and build it.

Step 5: Move the gslhdrs.exe executable from
<installation directory>\gsl-1.10\build.vc8\gslhdrs\Win32\Debug
to
<installation directory>\gsl-1.10\build.vc8\gslhdrs

Step 6: Run the gslhdrs.exe program.  It will produce no output.

Step 7: Inside Visual Studio 2005, go to ‘Tools/Options’ and then ‘Projects and Solutions/VC++ Directories’ and add the following line under ‘Include files’:
<installation directory>\gsl-1.10\

Step 8: Now create a new C++ project with its own solution file

Step 9: Type this in as your file:
#include "stdafx.h"
#include <gsl/gsl_matrix.h>
int _tmain(int argc, _TCHAR* argv[])
{
gsl_matrix* a = gsl_matrix_alloc(4,3);
gsl_matrix* b = gsl_matrix_alloc(4,3);
gsl_matrix_set(a, 0, 0, 1);
gsl_matrix_set(b, 0, 0, 1);
gsl_matrix_add(a, b);
      printf("%d\n", (int)gsl_matrix_get(a,0,0));
return 0;
}

Step 10: In Solution Explorer, right click and click on ‘Add / Existing Project’.  Add the project:
<installation directory>\gsl-1.10\build.vc8\gsllib\gsllib.vcproj

Step 11: On your project, right click and click on ‘References’.  Add a reference to the gsllib project.

Step 12: Your program should now compile and run

Many people write to me asking about admission to the Computer Science department here at Stanford University.  I had many of the same questions when I was applying and others were kind enough to answer my questions.  It's not possible for me to answer individual questions by e-mail but if you have a question and e-mail me, I am happy to post the answer here so that everyone can benefit.  This page does not constitute official policy but the reflections of one student who is no longer involved in making admissions decisions.  I believe that my answers apply beyond Stanford but there is a sharp drop-off in what admission committees expect after the top 10 schools so plan accordingly. 

Q. How are admissions decisions made?

A. For the M.S. program, typically two professors and/or current M.S. students will individually review your application and assign you a numeric score.  How they do that is up to them and scores are informally normalized.  If your application is especially weak, you may be rejected without review.  If both reviewers feel that your application is weak, you will not receive further consideration.  If, on the other hand, both reviewers find that you are highly qualified, you will be admitted without further review.  Most admits fall into neither of these categories and are discussed by a committee of several professors.

Thus you should be careful to distinguish between the administrative staff who will prepare your file and the reviewers who will actually read it.  Your application will be reviewed quickly so take care to be clear and concise.  Submit all necessary documents in a timely fashion.  I suggest including self-addressed, stamped postcards with everything you submit so that you can know that your documents were received by the receipt of your own postcard.  The admissions committee will never see such things and an incomplete file is the quickest path to rejection.  It is your responsibility to make sure your file is complete.

Q. What kind of GRE scores do I need to be admitted?

A. Your GRE scores will not substantially influence your chances for admission unless you do poorly on them.  A Math score of 750 or higher is adequate and an 800 is best.  More leeway is given for the English and Writing sections.  A score of 600 or above (and something comparable on the Writing) is needed and 700 is considered good.  Higher scores will attest to your writing ability and are especially helpful if you are applying from abroad.  If your application is otherwise strong, you will not be disqualified on the basis of GRE scores alone.

I suggest you spend considerable time and effort preparing for the GRE until you are confident you can get the 800 / 700 as mentioned above.  You're probably applying to several graduate programs and the GRE is consistently considered important in most programs.  You will benefit substantially for relatively little effort.

Q. Whom should I ask for letters of recommendations?  What should they discuss?

There are two important factors to consider when asking for letters of recommendation or undertaking research and/or work opportunities that will lead to opportunities to ask in the future.  The first factor is the importance of the person writing the letter for you.  It is helpful if this person has a Ph.D. from a reputable university.  The more reputable the better but any top 50 university is usually adequate.  The second factor is how much the person likes you.  At least one letter should be from someone who has supervised you in a professional capacity and things highly of you.  Thus when asking, you should seek a balance between these two factors.  Typical admits will have one letter from a professor at their undergraduate institute who has supervised them in undergraduate research.  Another letter may be from another professor who has supervised research or an especially successful class project.  A third may be from a manager at an internship.  It is best if the first is especially strong.  Any subsequent letters will probably be discarded and since you don't know which one will be thought of as an extra one, don't send them.  The third letter can be ambivalent and it will not harm your chances for admission by very much.

Letters of recommendation are very important for M.S. admission and the deciding factor for Ph.D. admission.  It is well worth your time working hard for those whom you plan to ask for letters.  If someone is qualified to write the letter, they will know what to write and will probably not ask you to write the letter yourself.  If you do have to offer guidance or write your own though, write about projects that you worked on and how you demonstrated competence and intelligence in your undertaking.

Q. What should I write about in my statement of purpose?

Your statement of purpose serves two equally important purposes.  First, it demonstrated whether you write and think clearly.  Second, it shows whether you are ready to undertake individual research.  You are expected to be more ready if you are applying to the Ph.D. program.  Unlike your essay for undergraduate research, you are not expected nor benefited by demonstrating artistic flair in your statement.  Write about projects you have worked on in the past, what role you played in those projects, and what you would like to do research on if accepted into the program you are applying for.  Be specific but remain open-minded.  The rationale behind this is that there may not be anyone who works on the project you are interested in or the person who does work in that area may not be looking for more students.  Others may be interested in you though.  Specificity, on the other hand, demonstrates maturity and mastery.  Don't fret too much about assuming background knowledge.  If someone in the department will know what you're talking about, the reader will give you the benefit of the doubt or forward your statement to that person.  Do not discuss why you like engineering or computers or how you came to be interested in such topics.  You may want to mention a few professors in the department you may be interested in working with if admitted.

Q. What kind of funding is available for students?

A. The answer below applies to both domestic and international students except that if you are an international student, you are generally forbidden from seeking employment outside the university except in the summer as an intern.  There are plenty of opportunities to be a teaching assistant (help professor teach courses) or a research assistant (receive remuneration for doing research) as an M.S. student.  As a Ph.D. student, you are guaranteed funding.  You are not eligible for a teaching assistantship during your first quarter.  Finding such opportunities requires some effort but typically, if you're good enough to get in, you're good enough to receive some sort of funding.  If you are especially bright, you may apply for and secure external fellowships.  Funding is generally not a big problem but it is best if you can stash or borrow enough to pay for expenses during your first quarter while you are getting settled.  $1000 / month past housing and tuition costs should ensure that you will not starve.  I know some who get by on less.