Part I — On Growing Old in America
It was my regular check‑up visit, and I know I haven’t been watching what I eat—especially over the holidays, when it’s easy to fall off the wagon. So naturally, I’m terrified of that condescending weighing scale at my doctor’s office.
My solution? Wear the lightest clothes humanly possible. Indonesian lightweight pants. Bamboo socks from Nara, Japan. Okinatsu Tiger minimalist shoes. All strategically chosen to beat the scale by at least half a pound.
After an elaborate virtual check-in process—which asks the strangest questions—I arrive to find an unusually long line in the waiting room.
But let’s talk about that check-in for a second.
“Did you have 4 or more alcoholic drinks in one night in the past year?”
Who the heck remembers? I noted 5 drinks.
Then it asked: “Have you had 5 or more drinks in one sitting?”
It doesn’t believe me. Thanks, now the system thinks I drink like 20 in a night or something. How is this going to help the doctor?
Anyway, I arrive to find lots of patients standing. An irritated, distraught older woman is at the front desk—she’s been calling the office for an appointment, but no one answered, so she decided to drop in. The woman behind the counter tells her that she can’t see a doctor without an appointment. The older woman responds, “But I am in pain.” She gets their sympathy but no appointment. The earliest opening? Fifteen days out.
I’m still standing in line with a few others, waiting to be marked "present," waiting to be seated, waiting to be shuffled through waiting rooms, waiting to be judged by that condescending weighing machine and other vital-sign contraptions... all so I can be seated in the final waiting room where the doctor is finally allowed to enter.
Standing there, I feel a wave of sympathy for the elders. Eldercare in this country feels so unsympathetic. I'd researched it after writing Dave's story—he'd moved to Tennessee from Florida seeking better care. I still remember learning he'd passed in rehab, where I'd visited him once; he'd been so eager to get back home to his little puppy, Beta.
Here's this old woman with a walking stick, shriveled skin, and a shivering voice—being told to go back home. I don't think she drove herself here. I don't think anyone's waiting for her outside. What a stark contrast to my dad in India, who had two of his three sons fly in internationally just for his doctor's checkup.
If this isn’t a break in the American healthcare system, what is?
Why can't the front office staff ask all of us waiting in line if we'd be willing to switch appointments with her? Maybe a page they could take from airline counters, where they bribe us to switch flights.
So I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.
I realized how hard it is to raise your hand and speak up. We overthink these moments of good Samaritanism.
I called out from behind the line to a confused front office staffer—who probably thought I was about to make a ruckus because my appointment was getting delayed.
“I can switch with her if that’s possible. Mine’s not that urgent. I can take the appointment two weeks from now.”
I felt the eyes of the crowd on me.
The old woman turned around and said, “That’s very kind of you,” and blessed me.
The front office staffer looked surprised, quickly checked her computer to make sure the machine agreed, and said, “That will work.” Then she thanked me too.
I turned around and walked toward the door. This younger, beefed-up dude said, “Way to go, man...”
I said, “Thank you, man,” and walked out with my head held high.
Then, driving home, the doubts crept in.
Would I still be charged for my “visit” since I’d already checked in?
Would the front office staffer remember to send my new appointment confirmation?
More than anything, I wondered how much I don’t trust the U.S. healthcare system—and how little it seems to care for its elderly.
Part II — On Belonging in a Country of Immigrants
The one who asks a culturally insensitive question — he’s the biggest fool in the room.
This guy I met was a little drunk and the alcohol brought out his true colors. He starts with, “How long have you been here?” Then, “What’s your religion?” All of it building up to the strangest, most offensive question I’ve been asked in my 20 years living this American life: “Are you comfortable in this country?”
This man, in a country built by immigrants, in all his audacity wants to know if I am comfortable here. What, I wonder, has prompted his curiosity? Is it my accent? Is it the color of my skin? Because he can’t pronounce my name? He asks again: “Are you comfortable in this country?”
I ask him, "What do you mean by 'comfortable'? What comfort are you talking about?" He can't comprehend. He fumbles, retracts, and says he just wants everybody to be nice, that everyone should be taken care of. What he really wants me to know is that he's okay with me being here. That I am allowed to be comfortable here, in his America.
The audacity to ask that of someone who's lived here for years, a U.S. citizen. Then he asks about India: "I want to go to India. It's a big country, a lot of people." He asks, "What is the primary religion there?"
I tell him, "We've got all kinds of people. Many religions—Hindus, Christians..." Before I can finish, he jumps in: "Do you celebrate Christmas? Do you exchange gifts with your neighbors?"
I explain that in India, we celebrate all religions. That's the beauty of India. We celebrate Eid, Christmas, Diwali. Christmas is a national holiday—schools close for vacation, bankers send plum cakes, neighbors bring homemade wine and treats. We put up Christmas stars to celebrate with Christian neighbors. That's India. While some states with Hindu majorities see communal tension, India remains a secular nation by Constitution.
He hears me, but doesn't really listen, circling back to his key question: "Are you comfortable in this country?" Again I ask, "What is comfort? What do you mean by comfort?" He says, "I just want to make sure everybody's nice."
And I explain, once again, that to me comfort is human, not political. While politics polarizes us, you and I can be neighbors and live comfortably as human beings. That's what the world needs—not national fabric, but human fabric.
He says, "Yeah, yeah, I just want everybody to know we must all live as nice people." But underneath his talk of niceness is that same undertone—a prevailing mindset lately: You are the outsider. I decide if you belong. That's what it sounds like.
After Thoughts
In the US, there are two main ride-share companies: Lyft and Uber. Lyft likes to present itself as the more liberal company. Its branding leans on pink, fist bumps, and that atrocious pink mustache they encouraged drivers to attach in the early days (it looked stupid, really). It’s all about being fun, inclusive, for everybody. It leaned into Pride, into the LGBTQ community, into this image of openness and acceptance. Lyft’s president even described the company as “woke” in a 2017 interview.
“We’re different from Uber,” they’d say. “We’re Lyft. We’re for everyone.”
That was the business strategy: stand apart from Uber, which kept its branding sleeker, more corporate, more about profit and surge pricing. Lyft became the “values” choice. If you’re liberal, you ride Lyft. You boycott Uber. Just like people boycott Chick-fil-A or other brands when they don’t align with their values.
So it’s easy to assume everyone who takes a Lyft is less prejudiced, more accepting. But that’s just appearance. A brand choice.
Same with the neighborhood block party or community meetup crowd. They craft their "welcoming neighbor" personas—eager handshakes, questions about your family and your journey to a foreign land, offers of casseroles and cookies. But then you hear it slip:
“You Indians are so smart—you know how to fix all our IT problems.”
“You have a strong accent. Where are you really from?”
“Are you comfortable in this country?”
It’s easy to dismiss these as ignorance—the non-confrontational choice. But ignorance lives in the space between doubt and enlightenment. These aren’t that. These are microaggressions.
Even more publicly:
“You’re murderers/rapists—go back to India!” (2025): Woman in Georgia fast-food joint yelled at U.S. citizen Indian family, threatening ICE deportation despite their citizenship.
“Do bharatnatyam in your living room—Trump says go home!” (Dec 2024): Stranger accosted Asian American at Thai restaurant post-Trump win, slinging slurs and threats.
H-1B visa attacks: “South Asians are stealing jobs!” rhetoric from Trump/Musk (late 2024), spiking online threats by 75% against South Asians.
Dismissal feels easier. But acceptance is overdue.
Thanks for reading.
Stories from the Edge: Three Lives in Transition
It’s a Wednesday morning — November 5th, 2025 — and I’m having my morning coffee, staring at a blank screen, trying to order my thoughts. Outside, the world stirs with the noise of history and headlines. Today marks Guy Fawkes Day in Britain—a vivid reminder of rebellion and renewal, complete with bonfires and reflection. The air is threaded with change — with new faces and new hopes stepping into the spotlight, with voters sending a clear message about their expectations for America’s future.
Understanding Eldercare in the Digital Age
I met Dave for the first time in June this year. We had just moved into the apartment above his. My car was parked across from Dave’s patio and every time he happened to be outside, he’d roll his wheelchair forward and strike up a conversation, his furry friend Beta by his side.
Read the reedited and rewritten Under the Surface. I especially liked the afterthoughts but also the thoughts concerning the old lady. And I may have missed Dave, who moved to Tennessee from Florida and passed while in rehab. I am really glad you visited him as he must have really appreciated it. And your visit gave him a family like concern from you. On the American Healthcare system, I am very lucky in that my doctor is very old school. He is Muslim and emigrated here from Egypt and is in his 70s, speaks fluent Arabic and does not put up with any disrespect. If anyone shows disrespect he will double down and give it right back. Two Arabic ladies sounded like they were being critical of him although I don't know what they were saying or what he said but he sounded like he told them off. "Say what you like but I will not see you if you talk to me like that! You can go elsewhere!" And that shut them up. Their backflash disappeared and they behaved. He sees everyone and cares about everyone, his two-office staff are Spanish, and they don't put up with any disrespect from English speakers. They are polite but firm and quickly shut down any disrespect (in simple English). I don't know what they say in Spanish, but they often laugh even though they are always very busy. Such a difference. And my doctor's rule is that walk ins are seen but the ones that have appointments are seen first. The old lady would have been seen. He is old school and that is so much better than some doctors are now. One of the reasons the H-1B visa $100,000 fee hike is so unfair to immigrant medical doctoral students is that if most of their university doctoral training has been in their home country, more than likely it is old school. I like the addition of the drunken guy's question considered to be a micro-aggression because he may have been a little drunk. And then you point out the anti-immigrant mood our country is slipping into. Pointing out the mood change is a way of standing up to the unfairness. There is also the south Asian doctoral computer science student who recently was shot to death in Canada. And in California they are taking the truck driver's licenses of many years Sikh truck drivers away because of a fatality resulting from a Sikh driver making an illegal U-turn. They have a lawsuit against the state.
I agree. Looking at him as one person is a better look. Also his comfort being more important to him than yours is contrasted with your viewpoint that the old lady's comfort was more important than yours. And I agree some people understand that and some people never will. I always feel most people in India notice the good qualities of others more easily than most Americans, who are too likely to miss the obvious good and too easily pick up on up some negative nothing . The guy is blind in the sensitivity department, is a bigot, negative energy. Go silent and walk away. He'll get his answer. It's his problem not yours.