Boston! I arrived here just as fall began to colour the trees, and now it's been a month. For the first time in life, at 28, I finally had a job! Even though it's technically an internship, I'll still call it a job. After nearly a decade as a student, I was ready to experience the shift from academia to industry. And after living in Lafayette for four straight years, moving to a new city — especially one like Boston — felt refreshing. Later, of course, I realised the work-life balance isn't drastically different… but let's keep this article limited to how life outside of work has been, shall we? That's where the fun lies.
When you go from a small university town to a proper city like Boston, everything naturally gets expensive, including people's time. But the most amazing thing here is the river walk. For the first week, while my CPT visa authorisation was still under process and I was "legally unpaid," I made full use of the freedom to explore the city. I biked, walked, and ran — basically, utilised every form of motion possible around that riverwalk. Thanks to that, I've been getting at least an hour or two of cardio every day. Sunsets here are magical when there's a water body to mirror them. Add a skyline like the one at Marine Drive in Mumbai, and it's pure bliss.
Another pleasant surprise was the public transport. People often say Boston has a European vibe — half of that comes from its transport system and those old-style houses and streetlamps. Within the city and even up to 25 miles out, the connectivity is fantastic. It's tap-and-pay everywhere, whether you're taking the subway or a bus — super convenient for a newcomer! I was amazed, especially after experiencing the worst transport systems in other parts of the US over the past few years. In those places, if you don't have a car, you're done! Not here though, and that was a refreshing change for a Mumbaikar at heart.
Now, setting up a new place at any age is a pain. You plan a hundred things, order a thousand, and only by day five do you feel semi-settled. It takes at least two weeks to form a routine again. Now next time, I know exactly what I need — almost enough to make a moving guide for my future self! Luckily, I had friends and family around to help me settle in, something I've been blessed with wherever I go. My advisor often jokes that I have more connections in the US than he does! To prove him right, my cousin lives just four blocks away, and I've had countless home-cooked meals at his place. On weekends, I explored the city with friends, watched a Marathi play, went hiking, and even played chess with some like-minded folks at work. Boston kept me busy in all the right ways.
A horror story based on true events
But not everything was merry. Let me tell you a horror story based on true events — one of the few disadvantages of living in a big city.
I was in deep sleep at 3 a.m. on a Sunday night, my brain fully recharging for the week ahead. Suddenly, my phone rings, loud as ever — a bad habit I picked up since living alone. Half-asleep, I pick up. It's my roommate.
"There's someone in our house," he whispered. "Maybe a homeless person. I think we should check."
Man! I hope you never experience the kind of chills I got in that moment.
After taking a few deep breaths, I stepped out cautiously. We live in a duplex apartment, and as I came out of my room on the first floor, I asked, "How are you so sure?"
He said, "I saw someone peek into all our rooms. Definitely a big guy, looked homeless."
And our room doors weren't locked.
We debated calling the police, but he — braver (or stupider) than me — insisted we check if the person was still downstairs. So we grabbed a rod and a flashlight, slowly walked down, and found the back door half open. No person in sight, just a few drops of blood on the kitchen floor.
We locked the door, messaged the apartment group, and informed the landlord. The next day, after piecing things together, we realised one of our roommates — the one who enjoys getting high (legal here, by the way, in this beautiful city) — must've left the door unlocked.
That morning, we changed every lock in the house, and I installed a camera for peace of mind. I even wedged rods through the window tracks, just in case. Still, the shock took time to fade. Easily the scariest night of my life. Later, you tell yourself things like "Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger" — but in that moment, you really do live the worst nightmare of every student living abroad. One hell of an experience, to "not remember."
A side note on waking up
By the way, a quick side note: since moving to the US, I've started waking up without an alarm. Try it — if you tell yourself when you want to wake up and actually convince your brain it's necessary, your biological clock just syncs perfectly. Once you get into that rhythm, you won't even need to remind yourself. Waking up to a blaring alarm feels unnecessarily harsh. Works like magic, trust me.
Anyway, all in all, the Boston experience has been full of surprises — steep ups and downs almost every week. I'm working more than 10 hours a day, but it doesn't feel exhausting. It's rare to find work that aligns so naturally with your PhD research. Another motivation is contributing, in my own small way, to the world's quantum computing dream. It's become a fascination among scientists and industry leaders alike, though no one really knows where it will take us. Maybe it'll burst like a bubble soon, or maybe it'll revolutionise the world like AI did post-COVID. Either way, without worrying about the certainty of the future — let's ride the tide till then, shall we?