My father was 28 years when he went alone to the USA to pursue higher degree. My grandfather did not have enough money to send him abroad, but he had a house that he decided to mortgage, reluctantly. My father was under tremendous pressure to pay back the loan. If he could not repay the loan, then, his house in India, where everybody lived, would be gone. So, as he was flying to USA, tears were rolling down his eyes. It was the first time he was flying. He had mixed emotions. He had no relatives or friends in the USA, so it would be hard.
In USA, he was pleasantly surprised. He saw all posh stuff and was captivated. He went to his apartment in Stillwater, Oklahoma. He had 3 roommates. Luckily they were all Indians. To save money, they used to cook food at home. After his college he would go to a part time job and earn money to pay part of the loan off.
Then after 2 years, he came to India for a visit, and to get married!! And… he got married to my mom. All this happened in a rush. 10 days after their engagement, they got married. So they hardly knew each other. After the wedding, my father went back to USA and later my mother joined him. It was her first time flying too, and she was scared. She had a hard time with English accent. She had a tough time adjusting to the culture there. During these times, there were many hilarious moments when learning American way of living. My mom, in the beginning, used to get bored, and go through the yellow pages to find people to talk to. Shortly after, she joined university. She took a part time job to pay for her fees. Both my mom and dad lived on bare rice and bread, managed on garage sale clothes and paid the loan back.
After sometime, my father took up a secured job and settled down. They got a car. My mom graduated and got a job in the software field. Then my older brother was born in 1996 and they bought another car then. 3 years later, I was born in 1998. That’s when my parents bought their first home.
My first six years were in USA. We sold our oldest car and got a bigger car. I had finished my kindergarten. My mom had worked for 10 years. My brother was 9 years old. That’s when my father’s company moved out their office to west coast. He had choice to move from Houston, Texas to either California or Pune, India. He badly wanted to come back to India. He wanted us to be in touch with our relatives. He wanted us to have the Indian culture. So he decided to shift to Bangalore, India.
We sold all our stuff and packed the essential ones. My mother, brother and I came to India first. My father sold our house and came to India a little later. He got a job in a company called Netapp (Network applications). My brother and I joined Indus International School. It was oblivious! My mother was upset with the education system in India.
In the beginning, we would see her every day in the school complaining to the principal, literally about everything – food, transport, teachers, homework, uniform, and what not? We had a hard time adjusting to non-punctuality and the maids.
One time, the maid had taken 5 rupees, which my mother had put in my father’s pocket to purposefully test her. Luckily I saw her doing that when I got up, so we could tell her not to do that and kind of give her a warning. The dusty roads and the garbage all around was another thing to get used to. Meanwhile my father was having difficulty in his office, all the co-workers and the managing process.
We lived in an apartment; however, my mother felt we needed to stay closer to school. We found a new house. When we went there, we had a big lawn and it was peaceful. It was a 2 story house. For Diwali all my relatives got together and we had a big party. Slowly, she got in touch with a person called Dr. Karajagi. He was a teacher, and used to conduct training. My mother became part of their institution and started doing free-lance training. Her flex hours allowed her to stay home to look after us most of the time.
Dr. Karajagi was starting a school. My parents thought that it was good for us to move into a mainstream school. So we moved yet again, from southeast Bangalore to North Bangalore – Oh! What a migration within Bangalore. For the first few days my mother and father went around to find the house, and then finally found a house where the owner used to stay on the ground floor and then we stayed on the first floor. They were really nice.
I completed my 5th grade and my brother, Akshay, his 7th in this new school. The school was called Vyasa International School. My mother also worked in the school for one year. Unbelievable, but true, there were only 9 children in the whole school.
My father changed his job to work for an NGO called Arghyam, which helps save water. My mother then took a job with a company called Istar. Akshay was then very interested in cricket. He also went for the state selections, but they did not give him a chance because we had to give them bribes. The school became a total flop. Akshay was in 8th, and it was not going well. His teachers were not good, except some. My mom thought of changing him because this school would not benefit him in any way. So, my mom hunted for other schools. She came across INVENTURE ACADEMY. She asked my brother whether he wanted to change schools.
In Indus, he was good at football, and he wanted to play football again. He felt that Inventure would give him this opportunity. He was keen on changing. Plus, many of his Indus friends were already in Inventure. He has difficult period in the beginning. Now he is on par with his class and is doing well in his tests. I joined 7th grade. I had hard time making friends and adjusting to the culture. I got used to it, and now I have really nice friends.
My father changed his company again to Merittrac. My mom works in a software training centre called ISQT. My mom is no more a complainer of schools. She has realized that all schools have flaws, so instead of complaining about it, appreciate how better it is than other schools. Now she is happy with Inventure. She is okay with all other irritations that exist in our society but she loves the warmth of our relatives. So, do we. We love being in India.
by Nikhita Kulkarni.
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