I was a bit of a schemer when I was a kid. No one else ever realized this except my mother. I guess what they say about a mother’s instinct is true. My sister was more rambunctious, talkative and spirited. I was more reserved and observing.  Most people just thought that there were cobwebs collecting in my head. Even though I was more reticent, the cogwheels would always be turning and churning.

One of my schemes took place in the late 80s when I was looking for a job. I needed money and school had ended. I had managed to get a job teaching little kids piano at the local elementary school in my hometown. But the restless schemer never settles for just one job. The 12 mile Money Makin’ was not too far away, and I have to tell you, I am a capitalist at heart. I had dollar signs in my eyes and I knew just where I could get the dollars. So…I got a job as a research assistant in Manhattan that paid pretty well for that time. Now I had two jobs! What to do?

A normal person would have given up one of the jobs and continued with the other…but I had other plans. I wanted to make sure that we had secured both jobs. Notice how I use the word “we”? Yes, I recruited my poor little sister into my masterful scheme. Mind you, we didn’t look anything alike at that time. I’m a good two to three inches taller with a different frame. I wore glasses at that time and wore my hair in a bob. My sister on the other hand had long hair, did not wear glasses and is five years younger than I. I was not worried about this at all. I had plans to “make over” my sister to look like me. She was also a trained classical pianist and could teach those kids just as well as I could. When I proposed this idea to my sister, she looked at me in disbelief. “No one is ever going to believe that I am you!”, she exclaimed. Now, times have changed, and I’m sure that there are many more Indian people living in Long Island NOW, but at that time, we were only a handful. Or should I say, I have always been a handful? Anyway, growing up in Long Island, I knew no one would blink an eye if my sister said that she was me or if I said I was her. Afterall, a kid in high school once told me, “all Indians look alike”. I was just going by that premise and using it to my advantage.

 The day “our” job was to start teaching the little kids piano, I gave my sister a new look. We got an old pair of glasses and managed to give her more of a bookish appearance. Okay, a nerdier appearance. Of course, I didn’t cut her hair but we put it up in a bun to make her look…geekier. She was nervous. I think she thought that I was crazy, that anyone would actually believe that she was Soma. I said, “Don’t worry, you’ll see, no one will even think twice.” I dropped her off at the school in the morning and then went off to my “other job” in Manhattan. All day I anticipated what might be going on. This was before the time of cell phones and e-mail, so there was no way of finding out what was going on.

After the day was over, I took the train back home and picked up my sister. She walked up to the car, opened the door and plopped down on the seat. “NO ONE BLINKED AN EYE!”, she exclaimed. We were in! She would be Soma for the summer and I would also be Soma and we would make oodles of money. We were in! That is, before my parents found out. I forgot this little detail. I forgot that my father would open everyone’s mail because he was the master of the house. One day, I heard my father bellow for both of us to come downstairs immediately. I knew the jig was up. It was in his voice. He had figured it out. Sure enough, he was holding a paystub in his hand that had my name on it. “I thought you said that you weren’t doing this job? Why are you getting paid for it?”, he asked. My sister and I looked at each in silence, our reticence and knowing glance said it all. We were grounded and my parents donated all the money that we made that summer to charity. That was our punishment for our crime. The only regret I have about that summer is that I should have remembered the details of the paystub. Had that been accounted for, we would have gotten away with it. I took notes for the next time…