The term "brain drain" is very commonly used across India, and I am assuming that quite a few other international (and more local) students must be familiar with it. What it preaches basically is that all the intellectual brilliance that India nurtures is lost to the hugely tempting world of the independent West. I never examined the term much when I was in India. However, a few weeks ago, I set foot in Pennsylvania, and immediately the magnitude of this migration hit me. At the first Indian student meeting, I met a hundred others, all doe-eyed and even more startled. Multiply this by more than 200 schools across the United States and you get a figure I can't really calculate with my 10 fingers. I also found this is true for most Chinese and Japanese.

So with the magnitude established, let me continue to my focus: culture shock. I have been to the U.S. quite a few times before, but never as a student. My dad, who was a student here almost 30 years ago, told me it would be an experience. The adventure began with my first visit to Players as part of the orientation organized. Sure, we have night clubs and pubs, in fact a lot more, but somehow, I was still confused. My little knowledge of dance told me that it's always more romantic and interesting if it's done eye to eye. Strangely, on the floor that night I learned how misguided that assumption was. Trust me, the two body parts that were in contact were totally different. And to top it, the "Save the last dirty dance contest" took quite a heavy chunk of my already breathless pie.

Next morning, I felt weak. Yes, my legs were tired, but the main cause I think was that my good-dancer ego balloon, filled up by many naïve Indian friends, was burst by a thousand needles. I decided to sit and make a mental note of adaptation skills required. First, the brand-new jeans I so proudly bought had to be washed a zillion times, sandblasted and torn in a few places, too. I had to get rid of all the Dockers and Lees I had and transform them into hip summer shorts. I realized the fascination that we had for clothes was of no use in a place where anything and everything was acceptable. No fuss required -- or then again, maybe even the most color-blind combination I saw was picked after careful deliberation. Whatever it was, I had to learn it.

There have been countless discussions about the clothes girls wear -- I saw some that Jennifer Lopez would think twice about venturing out in -- but that's another topic and simply put, if they are comfortable, then we should be comfortable with them wearing it. After all, clothes don't make the man or the woman.

Another curious event, and one that quite easily explains the clothes they are able to wear, is the fact that everyone runs. I have tried to go out at all times during the day, once even at three in the morning, and I have still seen people running. Indians never run unless someone is chasing, but to run here, all you need are tracks, a road and a walkman. The first actually is optional.

Now I have finally reached upon a thesis that I think would hold water. Let me illustrate -- and obviously having to prove that we have come here to do engineering, I have chosen to illustrate using a flow chart.

Well, with the path now established -- confusing, isn't it? -- what are you waiting for? Start running and adapt yourself.