How I Flew Away, Yet Again

GRIP: Engineering Research in Singapore

When I first left India for the University of Pennsylvania, I thought I had already lived it. The traditional, quintessential “study abroad” experience. Moving halfway across the world at seventeen, new country, new culture, new people, new experiences… surely, that was all that “going abroad” meant.

But somewhere between my late-night conversations in Hill and Rodin, 10am classes that changed the way I thought and friendships and family that stretched across continents, I began to realize that, in fact, the world isn’t nearly as big as it seems. Penn introduced me to people whose stories began everywhere, but somehow converged in Philadelphia. Every conversation I’ve had opened another window into a place I had never seen. Every friendship made another corner of the globe feel a little closer. Rather than satisfying my curiosity and greed to explore it all, Penn amplified it. It made me want to keep going.

So, when the opportunity to conduct research in Singapore through GRIP came along, I did what I do best: packed my bags once again. Spintronics at the National University of Singapore felt like the perfect summer for me as a VIPER student: physics, materials science, computation and engineering all into energy research with a real world impact. In many ways, my summer mirrored the exciting spin duality of spintronics.

Singapore greets you with humidity before it greets you with people. Rain appears without warning, disappearing just as quickly. Towering trees and vines weave themselves through what I can only describe as one of the world’s most modern places, lush greenery being as integral to the skyline as the skyscrapers themselves. And of course, the hawker centres became places where I’d meet people, local or not, sampling cuisines from across Asia for just a few dollars, and where every next meal felt as if I was unlocking another level of Singapore. Every weekend adventure with friends and every confused MRT or bus transfer is a story I fondly remember. Whether we were discussing our successful/failed experiments, grabbing lunch and Chagee, or exploring the city after work, the hustle never ended. These were the undeniable highs; feeling, as much as you can in a few weeks, like I belonged somewhere that had been completely unfamiliar just weeks earlier.

But there were lows, too. Homesickness never really disappears, just simply becomes quieter in the busy buzz of a new life. Sometimes it arrives unexpectedly, by a familiar song from “those times”, a family phone call, or simply the realisation that people you care about are asleep while you’re starting your day. Even learning an entirely new public transport system can be surprisingly overwhelming at first. Getting lost becomes an inevitable right of passage. Even everyday tasks, like grocery shopping to figuring out payment systems, require an undiscussed, surprising amount of mental energy when you’re somewhere new and foreign.

These challenges are, however, part of the adventure. Every wrong train would take you somewhere new. Every unfamiliar street would eventually become familiar. Every uncomfortable moment would only go on to build your confidence.

As an international student, I had already experienced what it meant to leave home once. I falsely assumed that experience would make future moves routine. Instead, each new place has taught me something entirely different. Philadelphia taught me to be independent, and Singapore taught me that my love for new adventures has no final destination. The more places I visit, the less the world feels bifurcated into “home” and “abroad.”

Sometimes people, even my parents, ask why anyone would voluntarily fly halfway across the world again after already doing it once.

The answer is simple.

Because every time I fly away, I come back with a slightly bigger world than the one I left behind.