Drag hubs into the city for dinner to meet up with Chip MacGregor, my Lit Agent, who’s here among the masses attending BEA 2012 at the Javits Center this week.

“Are you nervous?” Sun asks me as we begin our battle with NYC traffic into Manhattan. 

“Not really. Just want to look professional. Ask good questions. Pick his brain about the industry. And learn what else I can do on my part to become a better writer.”

“Okay. Sounds good. Did you call to make a reservation at the restaurant?”

“No.” It’s a weeknight. Surely the city that never sleeps doesn’t go out to eat on Wednesdays.

“You better call. Just in case.” I think about what we had just presented this past weekend to a PAIRS group of couples on not being argumentative for irrelevant reasons. Taking a hit [to your ego] for the sake of the team. Love and Respect. All the tools we’ve learned along the way regarding healthy communication. Drum down that rebellious voice of resistance and make the call. 

“Reservation for three please.” 

Which changes to reservation for four when I find out Amanda Luedeke will be joining us. Yeah! 🙂

“You know I didn’t really have to come along with you today.”

“I know.” I squeeze hub’s hand (the one not on the steering wheel.)

I thought about it when we were making the plans. For a woman who’s been doing the Mommy-thang for a little over a decade, am I dragging hubby with me because I fear the real world? That world where people dress in ties and heels [not necessarily together] and talk ‘business.’ Am I worried about the seven minute lull that inevitably happens around a dinner table? Or am I just wanting a safe escort back home at the end of the night from the city [a commute I don’t particularly like to make by myself]?

Actually none of the above.

I know you’ve heard this before. I married a student, not a doctor. And what I remember Sun saying to me when we were debating whether to tie the knot before or after med school is: “Let’s get married sooner. And finish growing up together.” 

I love that about Sun. He has always included me on his journey. Whether it was a study group, a microbiology lab time, and even a trip to the not so scent-friendly Gross Anatomy dungeon of cadavers. Was the guy’s name Jim? or Dave? All I know is that one time was plenty to feel included. Usually, I brought a novel or my lap top and just hung out on the outskirts of his med school peeps. But I always felt a part of the process. Never slept in the Call room with him though. For the record. 

But it was fun that we lived across the street from the hospital during his third year of residency. Sometimes he’d call me and say, “Hey, look out the dining room window and up to the fifth floor.”

I’d walk over to the window and look up and sure enough, there was that handsome fellow I married in his white coat, waving with the hand that wasn’t holding a phone to his ear.

So I wanted him to meet Chip. And be a part of my journey. As I take baby steps to living out my childhood dream to be an author. Plus, hubs is chalk full of stories. And I guessed the two would have fun exchanging tales of the madness of life. 

And life is just that. A mix of mundane and madness, with a tendency toward the mad part for many of my days. But I would have never met Chip or experienced any of this if I hadn’t walked out my front door and declared, “Yes World. I, Rajdeep, “call me Raj,” Paulus, do in fact, want to be a writer.”

You will always want more funds, time, skills and stability before you plunge into a new commitment. Whether that choice leads to marriage, parenthood, college or a career. Or other. 

I think about how my dad and mom came to this country back in the seventies with little in their pockets but big dreams in their hearts. Come to find out Chip’s grandfather had a similar story, arriving in New York with “the clothes on his back and one gold coin in his pocket.” 

The journey across the ocean seems like the perfect picture of what any goal might be like. When you make the decision to take the plunge, to leave familiar ground, you can’t see land right away, except the land that you left behind you. You have no idea if and when you’ll encounter tidal waves, sharks or storms along the way. There will be times when the water is crystal clear and times when it’s so murky, you’re not sure if you’re swimming toward your destination or backtracking to square one. And there will be days when you’re just treading water, and you’ll wonder, what were you thinking? Your arms will be tired. Doubt slips in when you least expect it. But one thing is for sure. You’ll never get there if you don’t take the risk. Or take the plunge in this case. And put words on paper in this specific task of pursuing a writing career. 

I really appreciate Chip. He told me recently that he “preaches patience.” Because nothing great ever happened instantaneously. Except maybe the day God created the earth. And the seas. And all the living creatures. Those specifics are a debate for another day. But if anyone can get away with instantaneous anything, that would be God.

I think the best part of the night was sharing stories over Indian food. I picked the lower east side eatery named Dhaba after a friend’s recommendation and when we walked in, all I could think was, so glad I listened to hubs and called for a reservation. The place was packed. And Chip actually asked for Indian when we were deciding on cuisine. Funny thing is *I hope I don’t get in trouble for sharing this, but when I asked him what his favorite Indian dish was, he replied, “Masala.” Yup. Just masala. 

Masala translated means “spice.” So if I wasn’t so inquisitive, I could have left it alone. The guy likes spice. Spicy food. That works. Maybe he doesn’t have a favorite. Just anything spicy. With spice. But this out loud thinker couldn’t help herself. 

“Do you mean ‘chicken tikka masala?'” 

“Yup. My bad. That’s exactly what I meant!” 

And so we order a few dishes to share: cholay, chicken tikka masala and lamb saag with a few Indian breads and rice on the side. And the Indian waiter sporting a short mohawk [did he just finish the Tough Mudder?] asks us, “Would you like a male or female lamb?”

“Wow. You get to choose? What’s the difference?”  

“The female lamb tends to be more tender.” Made sense to me. “Just kidding.” He confessed his joke before I picked the girl. 

“Of course. You’re joking.” Haha. Jokes on me.

And I’m thinking I missed a few other jokes that night too. Between the noise of the blaring Bollywood tunes and expressive New Yorkers diners all around us, we each repeated ourselves a lot during our meal. So the seven minute lull wasn’t an issue. Noise filled every second. And once Amanda brought up the Bulls and the winding down NBA season, the conversation took off like nobody’s business. It’s fun to be in company of Lebron anti-fans. *Sorry Alex! And James! And… 

Anyway, when we moseyed on over to Starbucks, we got down to business over lattes and lattes. And a shot of espresso.

“So ask away. What writing questions do you have?”

For a second, I felt like my Pre-K grad. Aware I had learned my alphabet but reading, not quite there yet. This would be the time you turn on your brain Raj. The part of you that prepared your two pages of questions for Chip on all things writing. I remembered two. Questions that is. Makes me think that smart phone would come in handy at moments like this. 

But they were two really good questions. *Do I hear a hint of self-assurance in there?… Maybe. 

And I love that about Chip. He doesn’t just preach patience. He is very patient. With me and my fumbling steps. Just glad I didn’t stumble in my heels as we walked around the city. That would have been embarrassing. 

So there you have it. My first real outing at a writer. Think it went pretty well. Had a lot of fun hanging out with two of the MacGregor Lit crew. Never thought the journey would be so fun. And tasty too. Well Masala-ish. Spicy. But sweet. Too. 

Yummy food. Great company. Hubby by my side. Laughter and insights. Doesn’t get much better than that for me. And the take away. Similar to Dory’s words from the Disney movie Finding Nemo. 

Keep on swimmin’. Swimmin. Swimmin.

Or in my case. Keep on typing. Typing. Typing.

**What about you? Are you on the brink of a new horizon? A life change? How’s the start of your journey going? Is the goal within sight? 

**IF you LIKED this POST, you MIGHT also LIKE:
“Life is Dangerous…Live Anyway!”
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“Wait for it…Wait for it”
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“Where the Island Ends”