With big dreams, with full imagination, and with an empty pocket, he left India.
“Success”, he told himself when he landed in USA; he was twenty-six.
Since he was a little kid, just like every other kid in his town, his ambition was to go overseas. That is how he was raised.
The culture, the people, the society, and the way everybody was …… everything was different, very different. The life in California was not what he had imagined.
But, he adapted.
It was a big adjustment over the years, many compromises at every turn. In spite of all that, he did not complain much; after all this was his own decision – going abroad.
All those days, all those years in America, he felt homesick. He missed the life he had left behind. The childhood memories, the old friends, the open fields – he often day-dreamed the life that used to be. At times, he felt empty inside. He wished he could go back; go back to his real home, his real life.
He worked hard. He made lots of money; a lot of money if you think in Indian Rupees.
The recession came; he lost his job – the high paying engineering job he took for granted. He looked for another job, half-heartedly. No luck. Perhaps he was secretly wishing not to work in US anymore.
“May be this is a sign from the God! My be I belong back home – in India,” he thought, he rationalized.
“My own people, my own culture, my own skin tone, my own mother tongue – that is my place; that is where I should be!” The recession made it easier for him to decide – it was time for him to go back. It was time to cure his nostalgia permanently. Continue reading