I could never have imagined my life taking such an exciting turn to monotony. It all started when I first boarded a plane in New Delhi and landed in Los Angeles. From there it was another plane ride to Austin Texas where I would begin my university education. I studied economics with the utmost diligence and graduated within the top 10% of my class. From there I quickly got a job offer in Houston which saw me working for one of the largest banks in America. At first coming to America was as much of a shock as it was a wonderful surprise. No longer did I have to choke on polluted air and crowded streets. But now that I had a chance to settle into my new way of life, homesickness and the busy demands of a career had begun to weigh me down.
Today however brought a brief reprise to my routine. An unexpected vacancy on the floor above mine led Lakshmi to guide my supervisor's hand in promoting me. I traded my business casual suit for a professional charcoal blazer and a business skirt which led me to vigorously wax my legs the night before. For good measure I wore black pantyhose that I cautiously made sure matched my shoes. I even wore my hair back to accompany my confident stride. I had to make a good impression for my co workers and ultimately the company. I stepped into the elevator, pressed my new floor button, and stepped out into what seemed to be a radically new building.
My old floor was as typical as any office space could be. I quickly became use to the term "cubical farm." My new floor was much more spacious. Although there were charcoal grey cubical walls, they were spread out amongst black carpet, black computers, black desks, and an array of plants that gave the floor an earthly fragrance that reminded me of my rare excursions to the dense Indian jungles back home. I strode to my new desk with gleeful pride that Lakshmi, the goddess of good fortune, was smiling upon me. I sat down in my high tech office chair and was pleasantly greeted by another gift from my goddess. A new coffee mug sat by my keyboard with a proud sheen that begged to be filled with bitter caffeine.
"Hi you must be Ms. Singh."
I nearly jumped out of my seat. It wasn't out of fear however but more of hearing a familiar accent. I spun around and was greeted by a stranger I thought would never come. She appeared to be as tall as me and she was wearing a business casual suit with black slacks and black heels. Her warm smile reminded me of the hospitality I left half way around the world. Her face was slimmer than mine, as her figure but only slightly. I was after all coached in belly dancing which I practiced daily to fit some form of exercise in my daily routine. On instinct I reached my hand out to shake hers and say "Yes but you can call me Deepeka."
I tried not to show it but I was blushing like crazy. I had only just met this woman and I was already flirting with her like some cute guy in a study group. She giggled as if she didn't notice the obvious flirt and replied "That's ok. You can call me Aishi. Mind if I call you Deep?"
I replied "Not at all" and quickly got orientated to my new responsibilities. I suppose being the only two Indians on our floor dictated an unwritten law that we were almost required to become the best of friends. We made sure we never missed a lunch together. It seemed like we could endlessly chat about the contrasts between America and India. There were things we didn't miss about our old country like the crowds and the goats being herded down the streets. There were things however we couldn't deny we missed. India had such a rich cultural history that we took for granted before we immigrated. We even began to joke about missing the elephants which were unmistakably interwoven into our cultural identities.
She was truly my best friend until one day in which I unintentionally stumbled upon two of her secrets. The first of her secrets came to me when I asked her to hand me a folder that was sitting on her desk. As she extended her arm to me, her sleeve slipped up just enough for me to make out rectangular tattoo that I quickly recognized as the symbol for the gay community. The second secret came to me when she had asked me to look at something on her computer. It was a simple logy rhythm that I was able to deduce but her web browser had a curiosity I couldn't ignore. She unexpectedly left to refill her coffee which allowed me a peek at the tab. The webpage said "Quicksand Lagoon: The swamp of your secret desires." I quickly switched back to the original document before she returned.
I didn't let those two revelations bother me at first but as soon as I got home, I powered on my computer and did a search. First I quickly confirmed that the tattoo I saw was the symbol for the gay and lesbian community. Then I searched for Quicksand Lagoon. As soon as I clicked on the link my fingers went to work scouring the site's contents. I clicked on the tab labeled "Fiction" and found an array of stories that sparked no interest in me. When I clicked on "Artwork" however my jaw dropped. I saw pictures ranged from crudely drawn sketches to wonderful masterpieces depicting the female form standing at various depths in deep mud and quicksand. Some of them were wrapped in panic as they descended like an actress in a Bollywood horror flick. Others however were drowning in lust as they descended into their earthly graves.
My curiosity was proving to be insatiable. I didn't know what to think of quicksand or the fact that people seemed to be turned on by it, but I couldn't quit thinking of Aishi and the effects it had on her. I shook these thoughts from my mind and clicked on the "Photos" section. Any astonishment I felt from seeing the artwork was nothing compared to the name associated to the newest set of photos that were posted. The username read "indianmudgoddess" which led me think "No...it can't be." Curiosity however demanded that I click on the pictures. There I saw what people in this country call a bombshell. It was a bikini clad Aishi smiling seductively at the camera. She had her hands running through her thick black hair which prominently displayed her tattoo. I immediately switched back to stories, denying to myself that I ever saw those photos. Here I thought that reading plain old text would take my mind off of seeing my coworker. But after stumbling on an erotic story, I couldn't help but replacing the tragic heroine's name with Aishi's. I imagined her body sinking in ecstasy below a bottomless pool of mud. As soon as I shut off the computer, I was forced to re-evaluate my friendship with her and how we communicated. The more I thought about it, the more I could pick up the subtle flirts she tossed my way. I didn't notice at first but now I needed a cold shower. I never thought any less of Aishi or her friendship but this was awakening thoughts in me I never knew I had. I never had any serious boyfriends outside of college and I certainly hadn't had any attention since leaving India.
America was ready to celebrate Memorial Day when I went back to work the next day. It was the Friday before and my floor was abuzz with holiday plans. I of course warmly greeted Aishi but part of me didn't know what to think of her now. There was no prejudice involved but I couldn't help but think I wasn't ready to learn these things about her. Images of her sinking and playing out the roles of those stories played out in my mind despite my best efforts to suppress them. The conversation that was about to come only made ignoring my confusion harder to bear.
"Hey everyone's has holiday plans. How about you?"
I replied naturally with "Oh I was thinking of tidying up this weekend. Maybe hitting a singles mixer...Do you have any plans?"