[nukkad] Tale of an indian in US

["Amit Arzare" <>]

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Please  read  it  with leisure
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 Most of us left the Indian shores to come here.
 We have bid our farewells with teary eyes to our mothers.
 We hugged our fathers and left without turning back.
 We silently took leave of the girl next door peeping from behind the curtain.
 We all came here, some long time back and some recently.
 We all were alone in the beginning.
 We missed our mothers cooking.
 We missed the idle chats on the road side.
 We missed those days when we gather with friends at a tea stall and order
 tea with samosas.
 We missed that girl, whom we used to see daily in the bus, who may have
 smiled at us, who may even have talked to us in that angelic voice, if
 only we had the courage to talk to from across the bus.

 Most of us grew out of it.
 We all made new friends.
 We all clung to each other.
 We watched countless movies.
 We even learnt to cook and throw pot luck parties where we always played
 Antakshari.
 We confess that we even smiled at those beautiful American girls across
 the street.
 We all took trips to India; some annually, some less frequently.
 We all tracked the "sale" events at Sears and KMart.
 We all went to Indian Grocery Stores, and bought Rice and Rotis.

 Most of us got married.
 We, went back home, searching for the love of a good woman-some found it
 in the old acquaintances from across the bus-stands, some found it in
 their parent's choice, Some of us took a gamble and married the one
 looking closest to Aishwarya Rai.

 Now what do we do?
 We all work in software,
 We go to the local temple to socialise, we attend movie screenings, and
 argue countless times that Honda Accord is better than Toyota Camry or
 vice versa.

 At times, late night before falling asleep we switch on the stereo and
 listen to that old Hindi melody which makes us remember the land
 that was ours.

 We recall the green grass, the muddy roads, the wet monsoons, the
 pretty girls that we never talked to.
 We hear the words speaking to us from across the oceans.

 Yes, we are Indians in America.

 A Mother who gave sour medicine to her son, because she wanted him to
 recover soon, who let her son move miles apart though the thought was
 tearing her apart, she let him go as she wanted him to be happy and
 successful, who hides her agony in telling others that her son is in
 America.

 A Father who understands his son's ambitions and the limitation and
 frustration he has to overcome if in India, who would not let his voice
 reveal that says I'll miss you son!, I love you but am unable to
 express the feeling.

 A Brother who would miss the brotherhood, though it had often been
 fights and not talking terms, who can deny the fact that a brother is
 still a brother, a friend, Who expected you to understand him as his,
 and when you didn't it upset but moving miles in distances has overlooked
 all minute  failures.

 A sister who would not have her adoring one to escort hereto help her
 out of troublesome situations, who knows she has to send 'Rakhi' by post,
 who wishes he would turn up for her wedding, if not atleast to fondle
 her baby that longs for a MAMA's love & affection.

 A friend, who is left with mundane tasks, unable to exchange the
 chirpy jokes & comments, discuss various thoughts from family, friends,
 politics, & economics, who visits your home because he still remembers
 you not only on a day but everyday. Who would jump with joy on
 receiving an air mail, who tries to keep himself free for all the days when
 his friend is coming back on a holiday.

 The girl next door, who didn't know if she had to rejoice or not
 when she overheard that the boy next door is moving away, who silently takes
 it that he has a career and would wish for his best from afar, bids goodbye
 with a tear in her eye.

 The girl who smiled at you across the bus-stop and suddenly finds you
 no longer there, who changes her route only to avoid the void which
 seems at the same bus-stop she had been once smiling.

 The girl who got married to her parents choice, unable to understand
 why she is being sent to a far off land, waiting for her man to send
 VISA papers, bearing the nagging question of neighbours and relatives
 asking when are you leaving India.
 The girl who got engaged and is waiting for him to come back and tie
 the wedding knot, a social and emotional security, who anxiously waits
 for his telephone calls and greeting cards to reassure her that you will
 be back as her man.

 The girl who never confessed her love for you, the girl you knew
 cared for you, missing & waiting for a word from you. If only you would come
 back and say that to her, who hums the songs along with the radio, but
 the voice chokes and aches as she hears this song...

 Ramayya vastavayya,Ramayya vastavayya,
 Maine dil tujko diya, Maine dil tujko diya,
 Uss desh mai,tere pardesh mai ,
 Sone chandi ke badle mai bikte hai dil,
 Iss gavoon mai dard ke chavon mai ,
 Pyar ke naam par hi dhadak the hai dil...
 Tu na aaye toh kya, bhool jaye toh kya,
 Pyar karke bhulana na aaya hame,
 Vahi se door se, tu bhi ye kehde kabhi,
 Maine dil tuj ko diya ......

 Whatever our roles, it is only to say that we still love and care for you,
 wherever you are, you are still dear to us. We don't know what you have
 to go through, we only know we have love & wishes to give for you.

 You might have learnt or the circumstances might have taught you to handle
 emotions and that time and work are more important than feelings and
 their  expressions but we are still in India and are still the same,
 waiting and wishing for those who moved away from India , INDIA - a
 land of love, emotion & sentiments....

 our wishes are ever with you ....

 we are the Indians here for you..... isn't it true?

 I know many of us don't confess this..but it is really true ...


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