You Don't Belong Here

Saturday 2210 Hrs Houston – He was very happy, feeling on the top of the world. The smile on his face was in-concealable. He has put days and night into this and finally his research gave the results.  Two years of hard work was putting colors now. He closed his laptop and walked towards the elevator from his lab. He has just received a text from one of his friends asking him to join for pub. With the heavy burden off his head, it was a called for party event. As he stepped out of the elevator, he looked at the view of MD Anderson Library from PGH (Computer Science department). You just cannot beat the view of the University at night. He thought. He started walking towards Moody Tower where he had parked his car. At the age of 24 he has an almost complete master’s degree with research scholarship, a paycheck that takes care for all his basic needs, an academic advisor that cares, a car and an-almost settled life (as soon as the dissertation goes in).’This is the land of opportunity!!’ he used to tell everybody.

 

Sunday 0840 Hrs India – He looked happy as the ordeal was over. As the train approached to halt, he felt an energy surge in his otherwise tired body. He has prepared for days and night for this day and finally it had come. He took his bag and walked in the throng to get out of the train. ‘Is it always crowded like this?” he wondered. He carried his bag in one hand and small envelope in other which carried a red thread and some rice pellets coated with vermilion (English for Indian Sindoor) and turmeric. This was a blessing from his parents when he boarded the train. As he stepped on the platform, he looked around. Countless head he sees. Each moving in some direction. ‘Exactly like back home!!’ he thought. At the age of 24, he has now the convenience to prove himself. He has dreams. Dreams to support his family, dreams to remove the encumbrances off his parents, dreams to realize his intellect to a meaningful and successful future. This might be the place where it can happen. ‘This is the land of opportunity’ He murmured to himself.

Saturday 2230 Hrs Houston –You don’t see a lot of Indian junta around this hour in the university campus. It wasn’t the first time for him. As he walked towards the car, he passed the basketball court. As usual the ‘American’ students from the dorm were playing there. Been living in Houston for 2 years have made him confident. He knew which places are safe at night and which aren’t. Besides he was inside the university campus. Nothing can and has ever happened there. He saw a couple of guys walking towards his side with the basketball. They were dribbling it and having some fun among themselves. ‘These are the ‘educated’ university students. They know I am also one of them.’ His rationale was clear and deductive.  As they passed by him, there was a cordial ‘Was sup’. He replied back with a smile. The next moment, the basketball hit his face.

Sunday 0900 Hrs India – Even though it’s a Sunday, still such high multitude is very common here. It was actually first time for him as all his life he had been in a small town. As he passed towards the gate, he saw a group of people looking at him. He got a hunch of suspicion and then wavered it off. ‘This is my country. The faces are all so familiar. I bet they have the same warmth and gratitude like back home.’ He thought. He has been out from home before also. It’s the day time and nothing can happen here. After all he was in one of the biggest and diverse city of India. He was ‘These are all ‘responsible’ citizens. As they passed him, there was a cordial exchange of greeting via the eyes. He replied back with smile. The next moment, he got a push and was thrown back.

Saturday 2237 Hrs Houston – “Hey” he retorted back, stunned by the sudden attack. By the time he was in senses, he was being held by his shoulders and back neck. “Please take my money and let me go” He repeated the sentence as he was told to say when in such conditions. A tall and lank American wearing baggy shorts and a baseball cap was standing in front and said “I don’t want no money from ya. You guys take our jobs huh?”  There was a scorn in his tone. “Well I didn’t. I am just a student.” He said. Pat!! He got a straight slap on his face and his nostrils burst. “You think you are intelligent huh. Will come here and take all my money. Take my food and steal my car. You Don’t belong here” It wasn’t making any sense to him. The lank American was high. The other guys held him tightly. He came near his face. He could smell alcohol from American’s breath. The American swore at him. They pushed him down and started kicking him. It was because of his bleeding nose and face, or the pain in his abdomen or due to the fear, but he was not able to hear what they were saying. He lied down there amidst all the kicks and punches. Even though there was a tumult outside, he was thinking about the stupid hatred that came into the picture with India being the major service provide for America. He used to think it was all past and now people are ‘responsible’ enough to accept the reality. When you talk about a land of opportunity, then it comes as being a global village with diversity.

Sunday 0907 Hrs India – “Hey” he said as two people kicked him. “You are not from here? Are you?” A big man with a husky voice asked. He replied “No, I am…” The man with the husky voice slammed him on his face. He was not allowed to give the explanation. “So you have come here to rule over us?”It didn’t make any sense to him. He received a forceful blow with a lathi on his stomach. “I have come here for an exam” He protested. “I don’t even work here.” His supporter held him and stood him up. The man with the husky voice came near his face. Now he can see him clearly. He was wearing a white kurta with an orangish-red scarf across the shoulders. As the man drew his face near him, he smelled sandalwood from his red tika (tilak) on his forehead. “You don’t know our language, you don’t respect our people, you steal from them and take our jobs! You don’t belong here.” With this man with husky voice hit him with knee. He fell down. Then there were series kicks and punches. They were swearing at him. Lying there he saw some other people from the train being mutilated the same way. His nose was bleeding, this knee cap was broken and his face was scarred. Not to add the pain in his stomach. All this and more, yet he was able to listen to the voices of his offenders. Just that he couldn’t understand the language. He thought about all the schooling he did where it was told that India is a secular country. People here welcome everyone with open hands and heart.

Saturday 2330 Hrs Houston – He was sitting on a chair with a cup of coffee at the UHPD (University of Houston Police Department). He was being briefed by the cops. They said. “You look hurt and I guess you need medical help .We have informed the campus medics and they will take care of you.” He asked in a very low voice to the officer “They didn’t took any money from me, what did they want?” “Well they were miscreants. They were probably high, and international students are usually their target. You come from a country which provides so many services to this nation. They all are immature people and don’t worry, they are identified and will be taken care of.”

Sunday 1000 Hrs India – He sat at the police station with a bandage on his knee. He and many others were being briefed by the police. The Sub Inspector said “I have taken the report of what happened to you and have called for a doctor to look at the wound you have.” He asked him in a subtle voice “Sahib, what was our fault? We just came here for the exam which I have missed already.” A tear rolled down his cheek. The Inspector said “Those were the people from a strong organization and have clear and productive thoughts for the development of the country. Sometimes they are not able to rationale the big picture and thus end up doing such things.”

Saturday 2345 Hrs Houston – He just came out of the UHPD office in order to get some fresh air. Then it started to rain. All his notions were starting to dissolve. ’India is a far good place than this mess. At least intellect is respected there.’ He though about his elder brother who had taken so many pains to get him admitted at the university. He wanted him to be successful. But the upturn events had changed his thinking. When we deal with a nation that has opportunities, then there is a respect and culture there. Clearly this was not one of those things in a perfect ‘American Dream’. His cell phone vibrated in his front pocket. It was his brother calling. ‘How will I tell him what happened to me? He will be so worried.’ He picked up the phone with a deep breath.

“Hello” said a man with a husky voice from the other end.

*****Ankur