The American Desi

By Jay Bhatt

It’s a journey story of an Indian student who has reached the U.S shores at a mid age level and finds himself in the middle of many muddles

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Dec 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9789388573559

Jay Bhatt

The writer has completed his Master’s in U.S.A. Professionally, he has been an entrepreneur for 13 years and is currently professor of Business studies with a reputed B-School affiliated to the university of Mumbai. Apart from Fiction; he has also published many research papers in various conferences and journals. He currently lives in central Mumbai. All work is purely a work of fiction and absolutely no attempt to malign or defame any religious sect or belief. In this book, the writer has simply attempted to capture the thought processes of the people and encapsulate it in a story form.

Book preview

1

GETTING STARTED

The bus left Kennedy plaza, Providence, R.I and Ameya realized that the American babe sitting next to him was wearing a mini skirt while he was still coming out of the idea of wearing two sweaters. Having landed for the spring term in the university and absolutely’ fresh of the boat’, he was somewhat in awe of the skimpily dressed sexy looking American girl next to him. Not that he was an alien to the western culture; being born and raised in a Progressive city like Mumbai, he had seen quite a bit of it. Life in small town Providence, although charming and different always felt somewhat slow. He enjoyed coming down to New-york for the smallest of pretext.

Having been in the United States for hardly a couple of months, he was keen on a transfer to a university which allowed more credit transfers for the master’s program completed in India, as that would lessen the cost of the education and also quicken the pace of completion. Almost thirty, Ameya had opted for an American Master’s as that seemed to be the only probable way of an upwardly mobile career in the international globalized environment.

He longed to move down to NY from providence as it felt more happening and closer to home. Having secured admission in a Business school in Delaware which allowed credit transfers and offered scholarship too, brought him down to NY as staying in New Jersey seemed to be the most logical option; also it was always easier to find a cash job or a survival job as it is known amongst Indian or Desi (Local Indian) students in the United States in and around New jersey area as it has a large expat Indian population.

A friend had convinced him" Yaar (friend), with so many Desi’s settled in NJ and loads of convenient stores, gas stations owned by them, they easily hire you because they don’t need to pay you officially since they know we students need the money and we are not allowed to work officially till we get our CPT (Curricular practical training) approved which is usually only after completing certain credits (three terms). They don’t need to pay us officially and they pay around $6.00 an hour which is way below the government rate"

"But don’t they employ the local …I mean the Afro-American, Mexicans etc? Ameya quipped. No yaar, the friend replied" they have to be paid officially plus holidays insurance etc. In our cases they give no insurance, meaning if we die they say we don’t know the person and we work more than the locals because we need the money and they know how to squeeze us well. C’mon you are a Desi (slang for Indian which is western India) yourself business hai Yaar (it’s business); they grow fat at our expense. Surely you understand that Ameya well at the moment I need the money so I guess we let them grow fat so all that I need to do is start talking in Desi and they get me the job yaa? Talking in Gujju definitely helps, tell them you come from the same native place as theirs and it’s all yours. ARE YOU CRAZY? Ameya exclaimed I don’t last remember when I visited my native place in centuries. They would know in a minute that I don’t belong to the same place". But you do you are a Desi aren’t you? The friend enquired.

yes and no buddy, my forefathers hail from Western India, but I am the third generation settled in Mumbai and born and raised in Mumbai, honestly I am a Mumbaite..that’s the only way I can identify myself, moreover I am a half south Indian too remember? I have absolutely no sense of belonging to Western India or any other place for that matter other than Mumbai, Maharashtra which ever way you want to identify it. But well we are here to become global citizens remember? Thik hai baba (allright, buddy)the friend replied global citizens we will be but for now the cash job and so LET’S BE Gujju (slang for Gujarathi). You never know you might even get a chance to screw around with those Patel b….s man! The sexy daughters of the store owners Ameya sighed " S…la ch…a (crazy F….r), is that all that you think of ?how far are you by the way? Did you succeed?

yes the friend replied the Patel found out and I had to leave, but I screwed her real well man! If I get married to her then green card and the store all mine man! Ameya tu nahi sudhrega (you will not improve), anyway it’s international education and a chance to globalize is all that I am looking for, I need to leave so many baggages of the past and move on in life remember? A fresh start; so girls, marriage are all niet niet at the moment. The friend replied I understand, must have been really hard to loose everyone. So sorry I was not there when you needed me the most Ameya7/11 was bad for all of us... each and everyone of us lost someone or the other.. anyway. The friend continued how are you placed financially? Any of the American relatives assisting? Ameya are you kidding? American relatives assisting? Now which Indian student has that fortune? When they come to India the same corny dialogue, YOU SHOULD COME TO AMERICA FOR MASTER’S so that we run behind them with mineral water and tissue papers and when you land here...the standard dialogue COME TO MY PLACE FOR THE WEEKEND and then they leave a voice mail SORRY WE ARE BOOKED FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKENDS. Interestingly all the American Desis are always booked for the next two weekends, be it the stupid Shah of Newyork or the damned Mehta of Boston! Anyway god has been kind, Mumbai blast may have taken away my family but I have enough left behind to start a new life … let’s talk something else. Friend what about sufiya..is.. she... fine, I mean the two of you? Ameya sighed yaa she married. we split .amicably" (thinking) why the hell does everyone have to keep raking my past??

The announcement by the Peter Pan bus driver about the bus reaching port authority NY, in a little while brought Ameya out of his thought process to see that the bus had already crossed Harlem, central park; an area he loved to see and determined that if he got a chance to settle in New York he would regularly visit, and already entered the traffic of downtown Manhattan, all set to enter port authority.

Getting off at port Authority and coming out on the 8th Avenue, he decided to have lunch at one of the roadside halal food stalls that are dotted all over Manhattan. It was probably the best food closest to the Indian style food that he missed; not that in Rhode islands he did not have Indian food. He stayed with Indian students and cooked the food but Indian groceries always were in short supply in the local stores there.Reminds me of the ration days in India One of the senior guys always remarked.

So thinking he crossed over the Sixth Avenue and found the halal meat shop.

He was pleasantly surprised when the seller asked him" bhai jaan beer loge (brother, how about a beer)" Filling his belly with a couple of beers and the chicken gyro rice put him into a light mood and he light up his Marlboro lights as he made his way back to port authority. He realized that it was probably not right for him to have consumed meat, liquor, as he was on his way to the Holy community temple in Passaic.

One of his relatives had advised himIn New jersey, go get in touch with the people in the community centre, they will definitely be able to help you out with accomadation, job etc. Having seen the attitude of the Holy community people, he was a bit reluctant, but then realizing that he had no choice, had decided to go and try his luck. ‘Anyway, what have I loose, at the most the to and fro charges from Rhode islands to New Jersey’ he thought. He was always averse to this particular faith. This faith or religion whatever it could be specified as, was widely practiced in the western part on India and with the Western Indian immigration, spread slowly towards the west.

His aversion for this sect stemmed from a variety or reasons; He was informed about prohibition of meat, liquor, onions, garlic and the shunning of women. He abhorred the idea of worshipping a living being like a god.’ His friend had once remarkedIf the Holy master was a god then how could god discriminate against the human beings, the women who were virtually responsible for bringing a human life into the world? The ascetics did not look at women but had they forgotten that the mother who gave them birth, reared them in her womb, breast fed them was a woman too! Did their mothers know when breast feeding these celestial heavenly stars in a mortal form that one day they would shun and criticize the very breast that fed them. Ameya wondered about the same thing too but there must be something more to it and well to each his own faith!

"No yaar, aa loko naa bhagwan saara che but aa loko ek dam rubbish (Their gods or Holy masters are good but the followers are no good) a friend had remarked but another intervened Yatha raja thatha prajaaa (as is the king so are the subjects) " is what the friend believed.

Preoccupied with these thoughts, he then bought the NJ transit ticket for route 46. He had to tell the driver to inform him about the stop to get down. On alighting from the bus he started walking along the ramp as was advised by the devotee in the community centre over the phone. Call up and we will send you a car A devotee (true believer) said. But not one to take obligations from anyone, Ameya had politely declined the offer.

He started walking and stopped to confirm the direction with an elderly American lady. Lady A community centre did you say, young man? You know what, you should go to the house in the corner; they would be able to help you.Are they Indians ma’am? Ameya asked. Indian? No, they are Jewish the lady said. And why do you think they would know about a Hindu community centre?Ameya asked.A Hindu community centre, I thought we are talking about a Jewish community centre!The lady said. Ameya well no maam, it’s the Hindu Holy community centre somewhere on Brevrick road. Lady O heavens, I am so sorry young man, but with your long nose I actually thought you were Jewish!. That, Ameya thought was hilarious! With his sharp features, broad shoulders a bespectacled sun burnt face, a French beard a multi lingual talk ; he was mistaken for a Maharastrian, south Indian (he was half south Indian), a north Indian, a goan, a muslim but never a Jew! In fact it was this very multifaceted personality that not only endeared him to people but something that he always was inwardly proud of!A Jew of all things" So for now it left only two identities to be identified with, a Chinese and African!

Not getting the direction from the lady, Ameya moved on and came to a gas station and crossed the road to it. Seeing a familiar Indian Sikh face, he moved towards him.Can you tell me the way to the Holy community centre please?The gas station man" Ooe,Hindi nahi bolte (don’t you speak Hindi) Ameya Paaji, assi to Punjabi Bolde (brother, I speak Punjabi too). The man was pleasantly surprised and his reply was positive Holy community centre means Gujarathi o da mandir (the community centre of Western Indians)"

Ameya was amused to hear the expression of the community centre, but realized that it could only mean that community centre, since that faith was followed by only the people from Western India. You got to have come by helicopter man, you need to go straight and then zigzag for the next 2/3 blocks in order to reach there. Ameya Arre paaji, Tussi ki gaal karre ho? othe ann de waste bus de paise nu sochna pad rea (what are you talking about, I have to think twice before spending money for the bus)". The man replied" Ooe hum Punjabi wadde dilwale hote hai, bolo taunu chad othe aau? (We Punjabis are very broad minded people, you want me to drop you) Ameya Thanks very much, paaji; I’ll manage..sat sri akalji (greeting)" Ameya left thinking to himself no doubt, Punjabi dilwale hote hai (Punjabis are broad minded people)! Asking for directions for a couple of times he reached the community centre, which was more of a huge house taken on rent and then converted into a community centre. He could have easily missed it since he was looking for the familiar community centre dome and only realized it when he was amused to read the sign board in the local Indian Dialect. He walked in and seeing there was no one but a couple of guys, he requested to be allowed to meet the gentleman by the name of Mr Surya. He will be here sometime in the evening.

That was a problem Ameya realized; he knew he had to get back to Port authority, NY by evening to be in time for the bus back to Rhode Islands, and if he missed the bus then he would have to spend another night at port authority, as he had the previous week. The boy we all get together for the weekend and play cricket. Ameya could not believe his ears! Cricket in USA! If he got a chance to settle in NJ this would be fantastic! "Why don’t you join us, we will be back in time for the aarti (prayer time) and then you can meet Surya uncle. That sounded good, since he had decided to shift down to NJ, he thought if it could be nearby then he would probably get to play cricket and socialize with the people. He was made to understand that there was a huge Indian community, which followed the particular religious sect and that they would be helpful from hunting for a job point of view as well as accommodation.

He befriended the other students and H1B visa holders and thoroughly enjoyed playing cricket with them.

He returned to the community centre and realized that the students seemed to be staying in the nearby houses somewhere. He went however into the community centre and introduced himself to one of the elders and requested to be introduced to the uncle as he was running short of time and then realized he first had to pay his homage to the deity in the community centre. The elderly gentleman was a kindly soul" you will meet Surya uncle shortly, don’t worry about it and do be comfortable, freshen yourself and after the aarti is over, have Prasad (offering) here itself . Ameya was completely flabbergasted with this so kind of you, but you see I need to go back in time for the last bus out of port authority to Rhode islands as I do not have any place to stay Elderly gentleman well, when we ask you to stay it is our responsibility to ensure a place for you to stay so take it easy".

Ameya was zonked! He had not expected this! But well at least that would be helpful to develop contacts with the other students here. Going into the main community centre he was pleasantly surprised to see that apart from the idols of their main deities there were idols of the traditional Hindu gods like Ganesha and lord Hanuman!

He always thought that they never worshipped Hindu gods and here the story seemed different. A moment later his sixth sense told him that this was a marketing gimmick to get people into their fold and he dismissed it right away. I think too much, too negative, he thought. The Aarti got over and he accompanied the elders to the dining hall. The ladies were known to prepare the food and he thought with so many students staying there probably the students prepared the food. Wow, he muttered to himself; few rare places in the U.S where one does not need to prepare his own food and more importantly no need to wash dishes and also it’s free! Little did he know about the price he was gonna pay for it!

The dinner started and he got a glimpse of few of the ladies. He thought they probably were students staying there too. In the middle of the dinner, his heart skipped a beat! He had never seen anyone as beautiful as the lady he was beholding! He did not realize that cupid has struck!

It was a momentary glance when she came out of the community kitchen and held a young girl by the hand and led her back towards the kitchen. Was that her daughter? No the lady looked too young to have such a big daughter, well could be a younger sister. He had to stop himself from thinking too much! Dinner finished and he walked out into the cold dark colony on the pretext of talking a walk and light up his Marlboro, making doubly sure that no one was watching. Even thinking about smoking would be a taboo!

He then joined the other students and the discussion was nothing other than the Holy master and Western India. He also realized that most of the students were from Western India. ‘How does that matter to me’ He thought. As the discussion wore on, he realized that although they were discussing the upcoming visit of the Holy master from India and the subsequent programs, he wondered; was the need for all this show; the same money could be used for some other charitable purpose.

Why do people mix spiritualism with politics? Takes the entire charm out of the concept of spirituality; maybe they need to do that for their survival. Anyway, none of my business what they do with their money, he thought.

The next morning he was up early as he knew he had to go back and make the preparation for the class presentation due on Monday morning. The house that the other students were lodged, was where he stayed too and then before leaving, crossed over to the community centre to say his good bye. He realized that he was hoping for a glimpse of the lady again and continued to look into the kitchen but there was none. Would he ever be able to see her again ; he wondered or would it be a case of William Wordsworth’s solitary reaper’ the music in my heart I bore, long after it was heard no more’. Haa, he thought to himself, I am getting emotional or what, I have lots of other things to accomplish sufiya is still fresh in my mind, does William wordsworth’s phrase not apply in her case. By habit he got out his pack of Marlboro lights and lit up as he started the long walk towards the bus station.

He quickly managed to get to Newyork port authority and from the 4th floor where the buses of NJ transit terminated rushed down towards the underground gates from where the peterpan buses started for the New England States. He was just in time for the bus to Rhode islands.

2

ROOM MATES

He was getting to be more and more used to the place and the university, but the scholarship and the credit transfer offered to him by the university in Delaware was what was tempting him to move out from the safe haven and into the unforeseen; for he had absolutely no contacts in NJ or Delaware and yet he was taking his chances as that would help him get over with his MBA quickly. He was like thousands of other Indian students or Desi students as they were known, who were most keen to quickly finish it and get started with either their OPT or H1B.

Everyone who had joined in that spring were all with the hope that they would quickly log on to their C.P.T (curricular practical training) and then convert it to OPT (optional practical training) and then hopefully the H1B. Little did anyone know of the impending financial breakdown in the fateful august and the strict policy of the Federal government not to hire non immigrants thus triggering off a mass reverse exodus.

It felt nice to come back to Rhode islands in spite of enjoying his visit to Newyork and NJ. It felt like homecoming he always mused. He always joked that if he got to settle in any other part of the U.S he would always refer to Rhode islands as ‘his native place’ or ‘mulk (home country)’. Alighting down at Kennedy plaza, Providence he got on the bus for Broadway. Alighting at the bus stand near the Sunoco gas station, he quickly made his way towards the apartment that he shared with five others; two boys, one from Chennai and the other from Mumbai and two girls; one from Nepal and the other from Mumbai. He was looking forward to seeing them again although; although he had been away for a little more than 24 hours he had developed an affection with all his room mates over the last couple of months. That is the case with most of the Desi students in the U.S; the room mates whom they never known before become as close as the family and the fights are as trifling as in the family like, whose turn to wash the dishes, clean the house in time for a visit from the landlord, etc etc’. Yet in spite of all problems they were always there for helping finish the college projects for each other, helping get jobs in the Desi gas station, convenient stores, to pay the university fees in case of delayed remittances from home. No matter which part of India they came from; in all probability a student from Chennai would very easily get alongwith his roommate from Bangalore or Mumbai and show no inclination to move in with another chennaite. Ditto for panju (Punjabi), bongs (Bengali) and other castes.

Ameya looked forward to going home as he knew the menu before leaving; he had marinated the chicken before leaving so he