“I believe that in all men's lives at certain periods, and in many men's lives at all periods between infancy and extreme old age, one of the most dominant elements is the desire to be inside the local Ring and the terror of being left outside.”

My girlfriend’s father recently sent a very thought-provoking email in which he excerpted the above passage from an essay by C.S. Lewis entitled “The Inner Ring.” In it, Lewis describes the phenomenon of exclusive gatherings – intentional or not – that can be found at all levels of society. Inner Rings come in all flavors, from formal boards of companies to the weekly gathering of the neighborhood newly-moms at the local coffee shop.

I found this email apropos to my time here for two reasons:

1) Castes: this country operates as an ordained system of rings, and historically, advance has been literally unattainable. Indeed, I am compelled to think that the reason a land with 1.1 billion people and such lacking infrastructure can exist at all is due partly to the concept of each person knowing and accepting their lot in life. Increasingly – especially in major cities – there is the notion of the equal pursuit of happiness, but the caste system is still very much in effect in the more traditional parts of India. The girlfriend of our housekeeper here broke up with him because her family didn’t approve of his lower caste background, and while sad, he understood; he didn’t trouble himself with the pursuit of the new Ring. (Topic for another time: what American social ills stem from the equal pursuit of happiness – crime, materialism, constant dissatisfaction – versus the idea of accepting the hand you’ve been dealt?)

2) Being the tall goofy white foreigner: the other evening, I took a walk with the intent to find Commercial Street – one of the main thoroughfares of silks and fabrics for which Bangalore is so highly regarded. Given that there are practically no street signs, I found myself having passed it… and I kept walking. The chaos was fascinating (and worsening, the further I got from city center). I meandered through neighborhoods and alleyways of tiny apartments (yes, Mom – I was safe ;-) and just soaked it all in. First, there were the cows – diary cows, regular cows, cows with big horns just moseying around (remember, this is in the center of a city with 6-10MM people – the census folks aren’t sure.) And then the kids started coming out… staring, laughing, running up to shake my hand. I realized I was as far out of the Inner Ring as I have been since I transferred to Stanford, and I wondered if I would ever truly feel a part of this country during my time here.

I am a person who has been used to being in many Inner Rings since having come to San Francisco; I’m fortunate to know a lot of people, and these first few weeks here have been an adjustment in that regard… having to rely on others and magazine articles to know what spots are hot. The other night, I consulted Conde Naste’s Traveler to point me to dinner at “the toughest reservation in Bangalore” – a restaurant called Samarkand.

Two days later, I caught up with the girlfriend of a friend of mine who is also currently stationed in Bangalore. I tagged along with her for a dinner with “some family friends,” and we soon arrived at a very nice house in south Bangalore. Upon sitting down for drinks, I was introduced to Prakash Nichani – chairman of BJN Hotels, and owner of Samarkand, Hypnos, and 20 other restaurant, nightclub and hotel properties in Bangalore, Hyderabad, and Mumbai. He was a jolly man – hardly the type I expected for an industry magnate – and we had a lengthy conversation about how promotion companies work in the US and what such a strategy could do for his clubs here.

Likewise, this past Saturday night, I found myself bypassing the enormous line at the entrance and sharing champagne and chatting with the owners of Taika – the “beyond cool” club that has recently received many accolades. How did all of this come to pass? Casually, through friends.

Midway through, Lewis writes, “By the very act of admitting you, [the Inner Ring] has lost its magic. To a young person, just entering on adult life, the world seems full of ‘insides,’ full of delightful intimacies and confidentialities, and he desires to enter them. But if he follows that desire he will reach no ‘inside’ that is worth reaching.”

From the Inner Rings of which I’ve been a part, I’ve learned that life is not substantially different on the inside. But that is not to say that they are not worth reaching… if by surrounding yourself with good friends who aspire to the same goals (education, travel, partying, philosophy, sports, wealth – whatever your pleasure) you find yourself within such a Ring, then the magic is well-founded and will not pass.

“And if in your spare time you consort simply with the people you like, you will again find that you have come unawares to a real inside: that you are indeed snug and safe at the centre of something which, seen from without, would look exactly like an Inner Ring… This is friendship,” Lewis concludes.

And so, I write this entry as an official “I miss you” to all of my friends back home.