The grass is always greener where you water it
Days before the lockdown, I was in Delhi in connection with the visa interview of my daughter as she wishes to go to the United States for her postgraduation in medicine. As the entire process of going to a foreign university for higher studies involves a lot of paperwork and documentation, we reached the embassy well in time, loaded with files and folders.
As we reached the embassy, I was surprised to see long queues of visa applicants from every age group and different parts of the country. They had turned the otherwise serene Shantipath into a thrumming zone. Girls and boys in their formal best comprised a major chunk of the visa applicants. Once my daughter was ushered in, I had ample time to interact with the anxiously waiting friends and relatives of the foreign-bound flock.
“America is the land to realise one’s dreams,” remarked an elderly Sikh gentleman. “I’ve sold off my agricultural land to send my son to the US, where he plans to pursue higher studies and ultimately settle down. But let’s see if he gets the visa,” he said anxiously.
“Ease of living and social security are the main reasons for the large-scale migration to America,” said a middle-aged man, who was overhearing our conversation. “I agree. America is a land of abundant opportunities to make it big,” said a woman standing nearby.
After two hours of a tense wait, my daughter emerged, looking immensely relieved. She had got the nod to head for foreign shores.
With nothing else to do in the city, we headed to the railway station for the return journey to Amritsar. With just 10 minutes left for departure, it was strange that only six passengers had boarded the train compartment. Suddenly, there was a commotion and more than 50 non-resident Indians (NRIS) boarded the train in a hurry. They were carrying cartons of food items and big steel flasks along. Once settled, one of them stood up to greet everyone with: “Waheguru ji ka khalsa, Waheguru ji ki fateh” . The younger ones of the lot immediately swung into action and began distributing coffee and delectable cookies to all passengers in the coach.
Our reluctance didn’t have any effect on them. “Bhaji eh waheguru ji da parshad hai. Naa na bolo (Brother, this has the Guru’s blessing, don’t refuse it).” They reassured us with warmth to accept the refreshments.
After coffee, I started conversing with one of the group’s members. He said, “All of us are from the US. We’ve achieved considerable success in various fields. We come twice a year to India to pay obeisance at the Golden Temple and stay on for a fortnight to oversee the progress of developmental projects that we have initiated in our native villages. The solace and peace of mind we get by losing ourselves in the service of the Almighty and our underprivileged brethren is inexpressible and beats all our worldly achievements.”
We were urged to wash our hands, remove our shoes and cover our heads to recite the Sukhmani Sahib. Everyone was handed over the holy book in the language he/she was comfortable with. Chanting the hymns on the train followed by a sumptuous langar in pattal (plate made of leaves) was spiritually and emotionally, a moving experience.
As we neared Amritsar, I couldn’t help but ponder over the perplexity of the situation. Those who are here are desperate to go abroad, while the ones settled abroad are yearning to return to their roots, faithfully.
With the lockdown in place, travelling has come to a halt and the irony of the situation hasn’t left me.
THOSE WHO ARE HERE ARE DESPERATE TO GO ABROAD, WHILE THE ONES SETTLED ABROAD ARE YEARNING TO RETURN TO THEIR ROOTS, FAITHFULLY