Desi-vedesi

Desi-vedesi

While the debate of brain drain goes on….. there are still so many gre takers year after year and offcousre we come to know many PECians becoming Americans year after year.(the recent e.g. being Mr sivakumar) Though visa is granted only for 2 years we talented Indians outnumber the Americans stealing their jobs(speaking from the American perspective) and settle there. I am quite familiar with the procedure of America yatra as many of my cousins have tried and failed and also succeeded. One of my cousin got a good score but failed in the visa procedure trying for 3 times, while another cousin went through the procedure for the first time itself.  I am not against going abroad, off course one will if it offers better opportunities and are interested in offbeat career options.

Let me tell u my story or the story in which I play a part, like a comedian with a little sentimental character. I even doubt if it is a story itself…
My bro was leaving to UK(Scotland more precisely) to do his MS(computer games tech)I was happy about this thing . I was assigned to receive them from the central stations who were arriving by “pinakini express” which generally arrives late by at least by 15 mins, came early by 20 mins and they were waiting outside the station by the time I arrived.
We reached home in cab with heavy baggage which appeared as large containers as human hands are lifting. Somehow we managed to lift them upstairs.

People going overseas generally have heavy luggage but my brothers was a few milligrams less than the usual tonnage. That evening, I brother and his friend Mohan headed to our famous hanuman temple in our locality which is taller than a coconut tree of about 32 feet. I and my friends generally visit the temple whenever we r hungry or on special occasions like when mom cuts food at home. While returning from the temple bro walked in to reliance fresh to buy some missed out things. He bought cosmetics ranging from moisturizers, fairness creams (all the girly stuffs) and even soaps it appeared crazy but he has to save pounds not rupees. He even shaved his head going to triupati in order to cut the hair cut expenses for at least 6 months.
Finally reaching home the final packing was to begin, by the time our house was a complete mess. Then I took a small nap and soon it was 1:30. The car driver was sharp with his sharp blowing horns waking me from my micro mini nap.
I was so excited to go to the airport eager to see various colors of rainbow(off course in the international terminal you find imported ones too) everyone were on cloud nine, even the luggage they were the first one to get into the sumo. In mins the taxi doors were closed, I somehow managed to squeeze in the back seat with the luggage. The pistons fired, power transmitted to the wheels and the tatasumo rolled forward (I sounded mechanical for the first time). In no time we got in to the airports departure terminal, got a trolley for the luggage and entrance tickets to the viewing gallery (costly place- the main story runs here). Bro made through the actual entrance and we to the viewing gallery. Soon all our eyes we searching for the stylish star of the day with his sparkling blue striped outfit. Finally we spotted our jiagle jigale rambabu standing in the Q for scanning the luggage. Eyeing for my brother I was parallel processing my scanning and rating processes.
After the scanning and weight checking bro came back to return few (only 2 he took ) books which were heavy(as e books are available today) . A kg more than 23 would cost 100 $ extra. Then we proceeded to the immigration cheque Q (I was what was it) for almost an hour only brothers clean shaven head was visible(not even his dazzling shirt).I never had the idea of going to abroad and study, but seeing my brother I got inspired may I was impressed by the airport, luggage or may the colors.
My grandma standing beside me was asking a silly question like if the will allow the passengers to board the flight like in buses, as a time pass bored of looking my bro’s head I patiently answered her and explained about aeronautics of  air travel(I am engineer na)
Soon my bro was back for the final good bye. First I spotted the swollen eyes of grandma the tears were hanging between the two eyelids. I and Mohan did not speak with bro giving the whole time for pedhamma/periamma as a mom she was giving all sort of advices and my bro promising he will be back as the same “vikramaditaya” (with the same shaven head!!) slowly I saw tears flowing as Niagara falls In pedhamma’s eyes. My pedhanana who generally very active and gives good advices (I am not sarcastic) was very silent in the whole story. Even his eyes were swollen, may as a man he did not or may he wanted to but did not. (Men do cry sometimes). I and Mohan were looking at each other not knowing what to do or what to speak off course we had nothing to speak. We could not hear anything in spite of the noises in the airport and I had only one thing in my mind running, I never wanted to go abroad that long and study. Though my bro’s voyage hurt me what most hurt was the tears in pedhamma’s eyes.(may be a mom would not feeling so much even if he is leaving to Kashmir at least there is a guarantee that will return in 6 months, as it still in our country na ) my bro finally left consoling pedhamma. Suddenly I turned back and could not find pedhamma, my heart skipped a beat, I found her standing and looking for her son through the two glass windows of the office of the Thomas cook travel agency but she could not find him, looking her, my legs trembled and I could not walk steadily. All our foot spans were short. I was wonder how my thoughts changed within an hour from liking to go to abroad and then disliking it or hating it. We were back in the car I occupying bro’s seat with Mohan. The sumo steered slowly away from airport, Mohan asked something I could not speak bcoz, it was a long journey back home with a large lump in my throat.

21 June 2011 

A week later bro mailed me his photos celebrating ganeshchaturdhi with “INDIANS”.