It’s been a little more than a year and a half since I moved to New York. I would be lying if I said it didn’t take me a while to get adjusted to the new environment. I am still adjusting, but at this point I have a perspective about how things are here compared to Bangladesh.
Dhaka felt a lot more personal and ‘livelier’, mostly because I had this big community of people to mingle with at all times. You are almost never alone in the streets of Dhaka: you may bump into your friends from undergrad or even a teacher from your high school while returning home from work or college.
All of us had a shared history, and most of us were aware to various extent what was going on in each of our lives.
One of the most defining aspects of my undergrad years were how much you come to identify as an integral part of your batch, and how you become used to the friends and acquaintances you make in those four years. In a sense, these bonds last for lifetimes: you often see the same five or ten people hanging out together long after they have graduated. You see them traveling together for trips and concerts, and even attend each others’ marriage ceremonies.
Sometimes, I miss those bonds as much as a former alcoholic misses alcohol. It’s hard to remain a part of people’s lives when you live 7000 miles away.
Often, it feels as though I am on the outside looking in, like a migratory bird missing its natural habitat, longing to return to its proving grounds. There was a comfort in flying among one’s flock: it felt as though I was part of something bigger: a communal organism that was alive and thriving.
In New York, most people are left to fend for themselves. Everyone is busy with their own lives, and even on weekends, it’s hard to get a hold of people. Other than my classmates, I barely get to meet with my other friends in New York. We get together every once in a while to watch movies, and that’s it. Of course, New York is like a maze that you have to explore on your own, but I rarely do that nowadays: when I don’t have classes, I mostly do homework and catch up on my sleep.
Still, there is solace to be found in this kind of living. My bond with the city isn’t as personal as my bond with Dhaka is, but there is a different kind of promise here. As long as you do the hard work and pay your dues, you can carve out your own space and make a decent living.
There’s something here for everyone; you can create your own mold, instead of adhering to what others are doing.
As much I miss my friends in Dhaka, I do, in a small way, feel relieved. In Bangladesh, you often live your life according to standards set by other people. You want to be as good or cool as someone else, and often you also want to be validated by your peers. I remember I used to have sky-high expectations from myself, and not fulfilling them added to my depression.
Here, though, it’s more about understanding what validates you, and forces you to think about how you want to live your life. You are the only one who has to live with the choices you make.
I think it will take me a while to get over Dhaka, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like New York. This is where I will be for the foreseeable future, and I am mostly okay with that. The added personal space gives me more time to do things I like and reflect on the things I want to, and for the time being, I am not comparing myself to more well-sorted people. And while the train commute can get tiresome after a point, it’s still miles ahead of getting stuck (and staying stuck) in a Dhaka traffic jam.
As for the other things, I think they will come to me in due time. I just have to be patient and keep working towards my goals. I think being patient was one of the things that I was missing back in Bangladesh. I am still working on it, to tell the truth. As the saying goes: good things come to those who wait.