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Arun Kumar Ph. D.
Bio
I am a semi-retired geologist, presently affiliated with Carleton University, Ottawa, Canada. During my almost five decades long career I worked around the world. Now I live in Ottawa, the beautiful capital city of Canada.
Stories (23/0)
Wings of Imagination
Manisha, my fiancée passed away in April 1976. What if by the grace of God Miss Manisha Ramcharan of Trinidad did become Mrs. Manisha Ramcharan-Kumar, aka Mrs. Manisha Kumar and landed in India sometimes in 1976 with her Indian husband Arun. Let me imagine the issues which we both would have had to face. A few things potentially could have created issues not very palatable to myself, my family, and my wife. Let me identify some of those possible scenarios and ponder how I would have handled them.
By Arun Kumar Ph. D.3 years ago in Fiction
Reluctance and Acceptance
In Trinidad, Manisha and I had decided to get married without the prior consent of our parents. This was culturally unacceptable for our respective families. After my commitment to Manisha, I returned to East Lansing, Michigan, and wrote a letter to my parents in Lucknow, India, that I have decided to marry a Trinidadian girl of Indian descent. The sequence of psychological events in dealing with this news in my family is very interesting. It was initially an utter surprise to my father and a shock to my mother that how I could have taken such a drastic decision of my marriage without their prior blessings. Here, I think it is important to state that my mother had died when I was only fourteen years old and had two younger siblings. My father was remarried, and my stepmother and I had the most cordial mother-son relationship. Initially it was quite difficult for my parents to comprehend the whole situation because all my life I have been an obedient son and never did anything that either I or my parents ever regretted. For every major decision I ever took in my life, I always had the blessings of my parents. Like all Indian parents, my parents too were waiting for my return home from the United States. They would have selected a girl of their choice and with my approval they would have finalized my marriage. It is indeed a matter of pride and extreme pleasure for parents in India to go through the whole long process of marriage of their children (specially sons). It seems for a moment my parents felt betrayed by me for taking this unilateral decision to marry Manisha. But this feeling was only momentary; very soon everyone was happy and both Manisha and I had blessings of my parents and the rest of the family.
By Arun Kumar Ph. D.3 years ago in Families
Lost and Found
During 2013-2014 I worked as a Senior Geologist with an oil company in Brega, a small Mediterranean Sea coastal town in eastern Libya. My job contract was to work on a rotational basis; two months in Brega followed by one month in Ottawa, Canada. I was back home after every two months of work.
By Arun Kumar Ph. D.3 years ago in Humans
The Dissection Box
It was sometimes in October 1962 when I was just 14 years old and had finished High School. I was admitted to class XI at the Government Jubilee College, Lucknow, India. My mother wanted me to become a doctor hence I studied Biology along with other subjects.
By Arun Kumar Ph. D.3 years ago in Families
THE PEN PALS
A letter dated November 6, 1975, the same day I left Trinidad, was the first one I received after my Trinidad trip. She wrote, “It seems as though you have cast a spell on us, everyone is only talking about you while I am listening almost in tears. I can’t forget you; your face seems to appear in front of me and your voice could still be heard.” She continued, “I told my parents that you would like to marry me, they were delighted to hear this news and wish to know why you did not tell them before your departure. They think you might change your mind after some time. I do trust and believe that you were serious. You are very handsome and intelligent; do you change your mind?” I wish I could find my reply to this letter; most likely I must have assured her that I loved her dearly and that I am very serious about marrying her. I must have informed her that the Ramcharan family should not have any doubt about it. She reminded me of a simple incident and her feelings for me, “Do you remember your friend’s relatives down in Fyzabad, in south Trinidad? When you told them that I am very shy etc. somehow, I felt very close to you but at the same time could not express myself. You should know I wanted to say many things to you but felt embarrassed, don’t know why I am always like that, I hope to change sometime.” I always noticed her shyness, but I too was very shy to have expressed my true feelings for her in presence of Rajesh, Dolly, and other family members. We were never alone together till the very last night before my departure from Trinidad. We had so many things to talk and share; we never got a chance.
By Arun Kumar Ph. D.3 years ago in Fiction
THE PEN PALS
By the end of October 1975, I had completed my thesis work and had finished the first draft of my Ph.D. dissertation. I spoke to Prof. Cross about my desire to go to Trinidad to see my girlfriend; he promptly agreed that I deserved some time off from my three years long extremely hectic and demanding study and research schedule. He and Mrs. Cross were aware of my friendship with Manisha. Now my five Ph.D. program committee members had to read my dissertation and offer their comments. That would take around two weeks, so I was free to go out during this period.
By Arun Kumar Ph. D.3 years ago in Families
THE PEN PALS
I finally settled down in the Shaw Hall of MSU, got my registration done and met with Professor Cross. He was quite unhappy with me for not letting him know when I was going to land at Lansing Airport. He was supposed to have picked me up there and helped me with my stay arrangements. He thought I was crazy to have traveled from New York by bus, although I could have flown.
By Arun Kumar Ph. D.3 years ago in Education
THE PEN PALS
I had joined my first job as an Assistant Geologist at the Ahmedabad Project of the Oil & Natural Gas Corporation (ONGC) of India on February 10th, 1970, in Ahmedabad, India. I was exactly 21 years, 6 months, and 11 days old on that day. I shared a three-bedroom house in the Usmanpura locality with my fellow ONGC geologists; they were great guys, and all hailed from Karnataka. We used to subscribe to two national newspapers: the Times of India and the Hindu. Sometime in the summer of 1970 I saw the names of people listed under the ‘Pen Friends’ column in the Sunday Times of India. A name with the address was that of Mr. Rajesh Ramcharan of San Fernando, Trinidad, West Indies.
By Arun Kumar Ph. D.3 years ago in Humans
RICKSHAWALLAH
In Lucknow, it was a hell-hot day of the last week of May 1969. The Sun blazed as if it was highly incensed at the happenings in this world and intended to reduce it to ashes. It was so hot that not a soul dared to move out if it had a shelter. In this land of penance and virtue, the birds and the beasts, whether in forest or a zoo, do find some sort of shelter but not the progeny of Gods who now inhabit this wonderful land.
By Arun Kumar Ph. D.3 years ago in Fiction