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
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
3 comments:
So very beautiful. You must write a book someday.
Boston is very beautiful place. I think you will find your rose garden in 'boston garden'.
If you can make wonderful discoveries back then,the mature you should find more now. Change has a purpose,always!
I'm almost tearing up. You remind me of the beautiful city and state we live in, and never to forget what is so easy to take for granted.
We miss you Vikram, but we hope to welcome you back for a visit (soon?).
I have already drowned and gone to the my version of the United States in my dream!
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