Uday Agnihotri, Architect & Author

It was the summer of 1987, as hot as it could get. It was only May and the temperatures were soaring in Sacramento. I had taken a decision to move to India and set up an IT university in Dehradun. I also had convinced one of my IT friends from San Jose, rather the Silicon Valley to move back and help me set up this venture. In spite of the heat, I made it to the airport along with my family and a friend, Mark.

There were some anxious moments for me waiting at the Sacramento airport. Waiting always made me a little on the edge. Not that the airport lacked in any of its conveniences or I had some thing against this airport or any thing of that sort. But a wait was like killing time that was a total waste of time in one’s life in my opinion. The airport had a nice small coffee bar, a drink bar and a snack bar. It even had a small restaurant. No one had to climb up and down a bus in order to board a plane. It had the boarding gates with leading tunnel sort of flexible and moveable corridors up to the entry door of the plane. One could carry the wheeled carryon without having to undo the wheel gismo. So it was nice and small family oriented airport. I kind of liked it, my hometown airport!

My baggage was already checked in. Only my carry-on pieces were at the chair next to my son. He was playing with his electronic toys and muttering exclamations of attack, run, ka-pow and bang-bang. That was my future – a dark horse – in the race of life. Will he come out ahead in this race, a winner? I had certain confidence in this notion. If I could do it, he could do it. Life was full of paradoxes and of sublime joys and surprises. When you expected some thing the least it popped, it came through, it was all there to your surprise. So I knew against all odds, whatever those odds might be, he would be able to shine, he would be able to spring that surprise, I had hope or at least I desired that way.

My friend Mark had come to the airport to bid us farewell. He was sad. I could see his eyes wet. The picture of his wet eyes told me thousand words in one go. He didn’t want me to leave the US and go. But I was as stubborn as a mule. Once I made up my mind no one could detract me from my decision, it could be good or bad. I always stood by my words and did what I felt I got to do. I got burnt as a result. But I faced the consequences with brave resolve. I had grit and perseverance.

I looked out of the huge glass expanse at the side of the concourse and saw the planes taxiing, taking off and landing. It brought back the memories of yesteryears of my life, way back when I, the dark horse, had won the race beyond all expectations and flown off to Tehran on my maiden voyage from my native hometown of New Delhi. I was younger and full of zeal. The memories were vivid, they flashed before my eyes as if they happened just yesterday and their charm lingered on.

I couldn’t yet think of whether my next move was to be delightfully pleasant or would it have the murkiness of my native ethos as usual. My little son had no inkling of what was in store for him, my friend was opposed to my leaving the US and my wife, well that was another wild tale. These were the moments of great reflections that probably I couldn’t do at this point in time. I had discussed the pros and cons at length with my friend, wife and pondered over it incessantly and I still couldn’t think of any problems against my decision.