From my childhood, I loved traveling to new places. My father would occasionally take us beyond our hometown to other cities in Kerala or to places in Tamil Nadu, the neighboring South Indian state. I still remember our family trip to Ooty, a beautiful hill station known for its scenic views and cool weather. The mountain-climbing train and the sights from that journey remain vivid in my memory.
Back in those good old days, there were no smartphones to distract anyone. I am talking about the 1970s. Everyone either enjoyed conversations or simply admired the beauty of the places we passed. I would stare out the window the entire time, soaking in every scene.
Later, during my high school years, I began traveling alone to nearby towns to visit relatives. Looking back, it was quite brave for a young boy to travel by himself, but I had no fear. Every time I was on a bus or train, I would freely speak with fellow passengers. These small interactions built my confidence and helped me learn how to communicate with strangers, which later made it easy for me to connect with people of different cultures.
After finishing school in Alappuzha, I joined an engineering college in Calicut (now Kozhikode). It was a diverse campus, with almost 50% of the students coming from outside Kerala. Though we all spoke Hindi, their mother tongues, accents, temperaments, and expressions were all different. Those four years were a wonderful experience. I had no difficulty connecting with anyone, partly because I spoke fluent Hindi—a rarity among Malayalees. I also had several Urdu-speaking relatives, and my interactions with them gave me proficiency in Urdu, which is similar to spoken Hindi.
Armed with those interpersonal skills, I moved to New Delhi for the next chapter of my life. The next eighteen months were intense. I dealt with people from every profession and background. No school or college could offer such an education in such a short time. Everything was new—place, people, weather, food, and lifestyle. Surviving the tough life in Delhi was not for the faint-hearted. Before I could fully settle into it, I received a visa for Jeddah, Saudi Arabia.
Jeddah was a foreign world for me. Although it was a Muslim country, many cultural practices were new. Some people followed very strict interpretations of Islam, and adjusting to that after twenty-four years in India was a huge challenge. Being an oil-rich country, many locals were wealthy, and immigrants often faced unfavorable treatment. There were exceptions, and I consider myself fortunate that in my ten years there, I experienced only a few unpleasant incidents.
Because Saudi Arabia attracted workers from many nations, there was a silent, unspoken competition among different nationalities to assert dominance. The weather was hot, the food was good, and the temperament of people could be unpredictable. Women were not allowed to drive in those days and generally stayed indoors. The unspoken rule for immigrants was simple: work, earn, eat, sleep, send money to your homeland, and keep quiet. I lived by that routine until the day I returned to India with a U.S. visa stamped in my passport.
When I arrived in the USA, I immediately felt like an equal citizen—at least in the eyes of the law. From day one, people were polite and well-mannered. Only rarely did I encounter someone who gave that “what are you doing here?” look.
Life became more enjoyable without daily ID checks on the streets. Giant stores like Walmart and Target made everything easily accessible. It became possible to buy nice cars, own a home, and, most importantly, pursue citizenship and call this country home. Among the many things I appreciate, the greatest is the freedom of expression. After coming to America, I felt as though the rubber band tied around my wings had finally been removed, allowing me to soar.
Of course, there were challenges. Coming from India, where we learned English with a British accent, understanding American accents—and making sure I was understood—became an ongoing lesson. Finding halal food (meat prepared according to Islamic guidelines) is still a challenge many Muslims face in the U.S., and as immigrants, we constantly remind ourselves to be thoughtful in how we speak and interact, to avoid unintentionally offending anyone.
That is a summary of my journey from Alappuzha in Kerala to Carolina in the United States.