But then he blinks a few times and I realize his eyes are shiny. Oh. Maybe he’s… touched? I can work with that.
I pull out a chair and gesture for him to sit. With his lower lip between his teeth, he does, and I join him at the kitchen counter.
“We eat with our eyes first, right?” Arush nods. “Two questions. What dishes do they look like and how do they look?”
Arush grins and points to the rice bowl. “Poha, though it’s a little light in color. You might have been a too gentle on the spices. And these are Rava Uttapam and they look perfect. I’m not sure what this is. Porridge?”
I laugh. “I added shrimp and grits, one of my favorites. I won’t be offended if you don’t want to eat it. If you prefer sweeter dishes, I can prepare a sweeter version of grits for you to try—my Gran’s recipe.”
“I’ll try it.” He looks at me, and his eyes are still shiny. “Thank you. This is really nice of you.”
Smiling, I tell him, “You’ll have to tell me names of dishes you like and I can find some recipes. I’m not sure if India is like America, but everyone seems to have family recipes that differ slightly for the same dish. In my family, it’s a constant debate whether grits should be sweet or savory and whether our greens are best paired with ham hock or turkey legs. We can mess with recipes until we get them right, though.”
“Yes, it’s the same,” Arush says. “Families have their own recipes and though I think most look the same on paper, they taste different.”
This might be the first time I’ve really noticed his accent. It’s always there. Always prominent. This morning I realize I really love the cadence.
I watch as he tries all three dishes. He meets my eyes with amusement. “You really like cheese.”
“Americans really like cheese. It shows in our obesity rate.”
He laughs.
“I’m going to introduce you to all kinds of cheese. You’ll see why it’s so wonderful. We’ll just do so in moderation. I can’t afford to get slow on the ice.”
“What happens if you get slow on the ice?”
“I’ll be replaced with someone quicker.” His look of horror makes me laugh. “In business, everyone is replaceable.”
“That’s awful.”
“I get it. No matter the industry, if you can’t pull your weight, then someone else needs to. The business needs to be run, so that means they need employees who are good at their job. You can’t just show up and expect a paycheck.”
Arush thinks about this as he eats. “Loyalty doesn’t count for anything,” he comments.
“I’m finding it counts less and less,” I admit. “It’s about two things, in my experience. One, you need to always be at the top of your game or there’s going to be someone better to replace you. And two, appearances also matter. If you’re seen as a family man with strong Christian values, in some companies, that’s preferable over someone’s qualifications.”
He gives me another look and I nod, shrugging.
“That’s crap.”
“I agree with that on the last one. Definitely crap. But I understand the other. There was a wave of people coming into the workforce for a while who didn’t want to work. They wanted to show up and get paid, even if they simply sat around all day. The company is literally wasting money on themandwhatever that person’s job is, isn’t getting done.”
“I understand that.”
“In a way, my position is the same. If I’m showing up but failing at my job—which is to make goals—then management will see it the same way. I’m here, they’re paying me for a job, and it’s not getting done.”
Arush isn’t impressed with this line of thought. But I can see he also understands it. “I suppose it’s not very different around the world, is it?”
“I imagine it’s the same in many places. The difference might simply be how it’s handled.”
He hums in acknowledgement.
“Your profile said you were studying?” I ask.
Arush nods. “Slowly. Very,veryslowly.” He gives me a bemused smile. “I’m studying to be an engineer. I’m halfway through my bachelor’s degree now, though I took the semester off.”
“You’ve been attending classes online or in person?”
