Love Letter for Portland

Dear Portland

Last Friday night, I sat back in my seat as US Airways 476 raced into the darkness on the runway. I'd been hoping for a miracle that this eventuality wouldn't occur, that the week wouldn't have a Friday, that this final departure would never actually happen. As the Airbus A320 lifted its wheels off the ground, gravity pulled a final stream of tears down my cheeks to say goodbye.

Six years ago, I came to you without a clue about the Pacific Northwest. I was young, fairly inexperienced, nervous, completely broke but thoroughly excited. I moved for a new job, a new life and liberation from months of uncertainty and unemployment. On that first night, I slept on the carpet in an empty 2-bedroom apartment in Wilsonville using some shirts as a pillow and my laptop to provide light. Over the next few weeks, I started discovering the sights, sounds and tastes which make you so unique. I spent over 3 hours transferring from a SMART bus to a Trimet connection at Washington Square to the Red Line MAX train so that I'd get an hour or so in town before I had to do it all over again to return home. If I had to do it all over again now, I'd do it in a flash.

Every minute I spent exploring your streets and neighborhoods brought me such joy, comfort and peace. When thoughts bogged my brain, I'd escape to the fantastic settings of the Rose Garden where I'd wander from blossom to blossom, letting their intoxicating fragrance and pristine beauty put every stress at ease. After an evening's smattering of rain, the trails in Washington Park were explosions of green, the air so crisp that I could spend hours here until dusk dropped a chilly blanket forcing me to seek a steaming latte.

How far did I need to go for that? Was there ever a dearth of fine local coffee shops in your city where coffee companies battled over flavor and baristas battled with their artwork? Specks of character made each of them unique in their own way. Vivace offered the best crepes but you taught me to start the day with a morning bun from Ken's Artisan Bakery. Coffee Time always featured the whackiest of characters discussing anything from mustache lengths to the colors of those random metal horses I'd find on the kerb in the Pearl district.

In spring, when I wasn't picking fresh lavender and pears at Hood River, I'd be poring over a copy of Travel Oregon, battered from the many roadtrips I made to discover all of your scenic byways. Perfect summer days called for runs at the waterfront where joggers, bikers and dogs crossed the Willamette on one of your many bridges. I lost count of the many street festivals I enjoyed, the food carts I stumbled upon, the eccentricities I discovered in every neighborhood and the million spots in town where I'd discover Mt.Hood looming majestically over everything.

But beyond all this, I found in your city a chance to grow, rather thrive. And thrive I did. With the Portland Gay Men's Chorus, I surrounded myself with over 150 amazing men and women who took me in like family. They lent me support, love and strength to fight tough battles. They taught me tolerance, acceptance and unconditional love. Volunteering at the Oregon Humane Society, I learned a new meaning for compassion and kindness.  Playing pub trivia with an eclectic mix of people, I found out more facts about USA and the world than Wikipedia could have ever taught me.

In your city, I learned to come out of my shell and explore the world outside. I learned to stand tall and not cower. I learned to love, cried over heartbreaks and learned to heal. I learned that money cannot buy everything, certainly not the magic of moments I experienced in laughter, idiocy, longing and bliss. I learned to laugh at myself. I learned to let best friends carry me and I learned to move on when they weren't around. I learned never to be ashamed of what I truly believed in. I learned that for every horrible person I met, I could think of at least 2 amazing friends who quickly reestablished my faith in humanity. I learned from a dog that there is such a thing as unconditional support and it could perform miracles in my darkest hour. I learned that the pure bliss of a single moment and the affection of a single person can completely numb the worst of pains and frustrations that life dealt out.I learned to pay forward the kindness I've enjoyed from people who owed me nothing. I learned to grow from a naive boy to a knowledgeable man.

When you have showered me with so many gifts, you may ask why I left you. In all honesty, I ask myself that every minute now. Know that I never wanted to, I was simply forced to. I dragged my feet away from you and those footprints were washed with tears. The distance between us is already long and it threatens to grow longer. The time period of this separation joins hands with distance. If life has yet another test for me, I hope again to learn from you how to conquer this.

Sitting here in Boston, a storm rages outside my window. In a way, I don't feel too differently from the many leaves that I see tossed around in the winds that howl relentlessly. But the worst of storms still subside by morning, don't they? Then I shall wait for that dawn when I can return to your loving arms.

The last time I visited the Rose Garden, I paused to admire the beauty of a particularly fragrant blossom. How many millions of hearts had been warmed by its beauty! How many millions of souls had been charmed by its grace! This little jewel resting on thorns had the power to arrest every person who visited, intoxicating them to return.

For me, you, Portland, shall be that simple rose sitting miles away and warming my heart on this cold night . To you, I will return and soon be reunited.

Fondest love

Vikram

Plea

Find me a way to soothe my heart
That he isn't the man I've always longed
Find me a way to find fault
That he isn't the perfection I now see
Find me a way to dismiss this bliss
That he gives me nothing I can't replace
Find me a way to stop falling so deep
That I may heal and love again
Find me a way to end my misery
For he gives me the sweetest of pains

Darling girl

2.31 AM.

I step into my apartment after returning from CCs. The smell of moving boxes hangs in the air, positively repulsive. I wait for a familiar jingling sound from the kitchen but the place is dead silent.

I go into the bedroom to change into my sleep wear. No pair of eyes follow me. I settle on the couch and stretch my legs on the rug. No soft coat slips beneath my feet. No furry head nuzzles its way up to my hands. No warm tongue licks my fingers to welcome me home.

Santa's new reindeer

I look towards her spot in the kitchen. I see the bed I bought over a year ago at Ross, unsure if she was going to take to it. I see the paw print Christmas ornament we made in November last year. I see the green neoprene slipper which she loved to fetch from the water whenever we went to the beach on Sauvie Island. I see emptiness where what was once the warmth I enjoyed in my home.

Mita has now gone away to my friend, Angie's family. Her 2 young kids love her to death and the entire family is really enjoying having her with them. They visited last week so that I could keep Mita for a few days and say goodbye. However, I requested they take her back since the transitions would be too confusing for her while she is getting adjusted to a new home.

In her new home..

For an entire year, I tried very hard to fight this eventuality. I hoped it wouldn't come down to this. However, when it became certain that I'd have to leave my home of 6 years, I knew it made better sense for me to find a new home for her in Portland rather than make her suffer the ordeal of moving to two new places. As new homes go, I couldn't think of a better family than Angie's for a loving dog like Mita.

When she was going away, the family piled into their car first. Mita tried to jump in but the floor of the vehicle was too high for her. Her hind legs struggled to get a footing and I had to stop laughing to lift her up. As the car drove away,  she stared back at me through the window, unsure of what was going on but trusting that I'd never send her in harm's way.

It pained me very much to see her go away. I know I can visit her anytime. I might be seeing her this weekend or sometime next week just to drop off the rest of her stuff and spend some time at her new home. However, it is just as painful as giving up your own child to another family. That poor dog has no idea what is going on so I feel bad that she is just being her affectionate self with everyone, trusting that every home she visits is a loving home.

Among the many lessons she has taught me,  the most important one is her belief in the goodness of all humans- that no one is innately cruel, selfish, unkind or mean if she greets them with a happy smile and a wagging tail. I am glad she's never seen the likes of people I've met who could easily destroy the faith she has.

We only had about a year together but I couldn't have imagined this past year without her giving me company night or day. Our daily walks at Washington Park, our visits to Noah's Arf pet wash, our play times at the dog park at Wallace Park, our training sessions at Happy-Go-Lucky, our nights in winter when I'd watch a movie while she curled up on my lap, our nights in spring when she'd get startled by a bad dream and I'd have to comfort her back to sleep, our walks in the rain when she'd spot a squirrel and pull so hard I'd nearly fall in a puddle, our walks down NW 23rd avenue when she'd bark her head off if I left her alone for a few minutes - these are some of the best memories I will cherish as I move away from a wonderful companion.

Jamison Park in the Pearl district

What a dog can give you is something only dog-owners will really know. Not all of us are fortunate enough to experience that. But think of that one person who made a difference to your life, even if they were only around briefly. Don't ever forget what a lasting impression they left on you.

Those memories will return on nights like tonight when I sit in loneliness,  in silence broken only by the sound of the clock.

Pining

As now I gather what lies around
Last autumn leaf falls off naked branch
His kisses I strip from thirsty lips
And seal them away in heart's chamber
His scent I inhale once again
Lest I forget what calm it brings
His touch I peel from my every pore
Warm embers for lonely nights
His heart! Alas! What shall I do?
Is it even mine to take?
How lovely a man I have to love!
How wretched my fate I must walk away...

Revelation

When he leaves, you struggle for reasons to delay
When minutes with him are worth the hours away
When thoughts of his quirks surface a while
When you wonder how next to make him smile
When you succumb to this sweetest of pains
When it consumes with a madness, no sense remains
When his every touch ignites a thousand flames
When morning kiss is sweeter than midnight play
When stoic heart swoons upon his mere sight
When distances loom to test your might
When you pray for a way to somehow stay
When beyond losing, there be no cruel fate
Do you know then?

Band of Brothers

Tonight, I said goodbye to the Portland Gay Men's Chorus.

Now that my move to the Boston area had become certain, it was time to start saying goodbyes to the many wonderful people I have been fortunate to meet in the Portland area. The chorus has always been an integral part of my life so I could not bring myself to simply convey my sentiments through an email. I needed to face these friends and tell them in person. They deserved it. I knew this was not going to be an easy task. How difficult it was going to become, I would have never anticipated.

I was late getting to rehearsal and I crept into the hall and occupied a seat in the last row of the Second Tenor section. The chorus was warming up with measures from "Marry Us"-one of my all-time favourite compositions from 'Naked Man'. There is a line in this piece which says, "We live and die like all Your sons, Marry us..Marry us today!". I would like to know if there is a god in any faith who cannot respect that. If the words aren't sufficient to melt your heart, perhaps this video from our brothers in the Heartland Men's Chorus (Kansas City, Missouri) will.

 The first half of rehearsal quickly came to an end after we practiced "How do I love thee, Let me count the ways" and "Hard Candy Christmas".  The pain and sorrow I felt grew unbearably. Somehow, it felt like these songs couldn't be more apt for the situation. I tried to focus on the music but tears kept clouding my eyes. I drew deep breaths and walked to the front of the hall when it was time to make announcements.

When I got my chance, I walked out and faced the group. Nearly 150 men smiled back at me and I felt that same sense of being overwhelmed which I felt when I first got introduced to the group.

I saw Ernest, one of the first friends I made who brought a bag of rice with a coin on the day I was moving into a new apartment. It was a tradition in his culture to bring prosperity in the new home.
I saw Richard and Carl. How many times had they invited me over to the many dinners and afternoon socials they hosted regularly?
I saw Matt, one of the kindest souls I have ever known.
I saw cheerful Kent, the chorus' resident Lost&Found who was always the last person to leave a concert hall and collect leftover items.
I saw Michael who took me to the Beth Israel Jewish temple for Yom Kippur besides several plays at Portland Center Stage.
I saw Aron who helped polish my resume diligently when I was searching for jobs 3 years ago.
I saw Lakin, my partner in texting crime during every rehearsal.
I saw Sid, my veritable Jewish 'mother' who was always brutally honest about things to make me look better and sound better.
I saw Tommy, who helped me pick up a couch and then drove all over town on that rainy day to find a place where we could dump it because it was unbearably stinky.

This was going to be very difficult.

"My name is Vikram Srinivasan and  I sing in the Second Tenor section. I've been with the chorus for 6 years now and this is actually the first time I have come forward to make an announcement. That's really sad..."

Polite laughter followed.

"What's also sad is that this may very well be the last announcement I make. "

The words started to choke in my throat and I had to pause frequently to collect myself.


"Unfortunately, the US government has decided that it is time for me to leave the country since my visa is expiring. My company isn't able to do anything about it. So I am moving to Boston for a new job. Pretty soon, I will be moving back to India."

"People say that I should be excited about going back to my family. But, you see, the truth is that this is also home right here. You guys are also my family. So I don't see how I can get excited about leaving this home really."

By now, I was really struggling. The love and affection I saw in their eyes unleashed a fresh slew of tears.

"I mean, I recall my audition 6 years ago when Bob said he was playing in a different key and I was too embarrassed to admit that I didn't know what a 'key' was! I remember sitting next to this handsome man who sang so beautifully that I thought, "Dear God, What did I get into?". That person was Joseph Pearce and he ended up becoming one of my closest friends in the chorus."

"I could go on about each of you but there's not enough Kleenex in this room for that. Before I go, I just want to say this. To the new members who have joined this term, Welcome! I hope you cherish this experience as much as I will. To the people who were in the chorus when I joined and the ones I've met afterwards, you have NO idea how much I owe you. I cannot even begin to say thanks."

"Should your travels bring you to India, I would be honoured to host you and show you around. I really hope our paths cross soon and I get to sing with you again. Until then, please know that you will all have a very special place in the heart of this Indian guy."

When I finished, I broke down. People told me later that the chorus stood up to applaud but I never saw that. I buried my face in a bear hug from Bob, our conductor, and wept.

Without a doubt, this is one of the finest group of people you will ever get to meet. When I first moved to Portland in 2006, I knew nobody. This chorus took me in as if they'd been waiting for my arrival. They showered me with so much love and kindness that I felt I'd just found a family of over 100 people. Through the years, I have shared laughter, tears, dates, heartbreaks and memories with them. These men have helped me move apartments, shop for amazing finds, plan fun activities when my parents visited, supported me in distress and given me confidence when I needed it most. I am posting my speech here to say thanks to the many members who were either absent tonight or have moved on.

As I stood next to Wayne, Bob took over the stage. He wiped his own tears and lightened the mood by narrating my audition story, showering compliments and promising that I'd return soon.  We then proceeded to welcome new members who had auditioned this term. The opening notes of the legendary "Never Ever" had never been difficult to sing before.

"Never will there be a moment ever
When we all will be together, never
Never such a moment, never will we look around and see these faces
All these faces never, will we hear these voices never, ever hear this sound!
No never, never will we have that first time, or this last time or just this time
Never get to live our lives all over ! Never! Ever!
Oh life will take us where it will! New beginnings! Ends!
Take each moment as a gift! 
Give it back again!"

A hundred times I had sung this before but tonight, I could only mouth the words. Their weight sunk in as Wayne whispered, "This song is for you too!".

Later at intermission, several people came over to hug me and wish me luck. Joseph offered a complimentary haircut before I left while Dave offered to make more ceramic coffee mugs. David offered networking ideas to reach out to the Boston Gay Men's Chorus. Chris wrote to ask me if there was anything at all the group could do - rally support, launch campaigns and help change immigration laws. 

I doubt I can ever truly convey my thanks for the love, strength, support, kindness and music which the chorus has given me. I also doubt I will ever meet such a fine group of individuals who create a positive, affirming community through fine music. If you should ever be so lucky to meet this group, grab the opportunity and see your life change.

As for me, Dolly's words will ring softly when Christmas comes along in Boston.