Behind the scenes — Untold story of an Indian immigrant!
Sometimes things hit too close to home and you feel like a fish out of water. That’s when you feel like screaming to the world. Today, that’s exactly how I’m feeling — A fish out of water and I’m screaming right now!
After Trump was elected as president, my heart sank in disbelief. I faced an ocean of emotions — helplessness, hopelessness, anger, speechless, and baffled. I put my frustrations on a piece of paper in a blog and I thought I got it out of my system. People assured me that there are checks and balances in our system and Trump can’t just do whatever he wants to. I sat back and hoped that he wouldn’t destroy this country completely. I stopped listening to the news. Every time they played a snippet of his speech, I turned off the radio. I was truly disgusted by his voice and lack of intelligence.
Then came his immigration ban that once again jolted me. How can we be so idiotic as a country? What happened to those checks and balances? Somehow, I found temporary comfort that federal court banned his ban — a decision made by both parties’ judges. So, time to get back to my work, even if I live on the edge now.
And today came another jolt — I came to know that a 32 years old Indian-American engineer, working for Garmin, shot dead! 32 year old shot dead, by an American yelling “get out of my country”. Really, your country? Since when? But more than anger, I felt my heart sinking — again. This time, not for this country, but for a family. I’m from India and know what a son or daughter means to Indian parents.
In case you don’t know — In India, a son IS the retirement planning, financial planning, medical support planning for parents. A son is their life savings. He is the one who will take care of them in old age and carry them to grave. There is no 401K or Medicare/Medicaid or social security. It’s the SON. It’s not just financially, but spiritually too. Son’s achievements are parents’ achievements. The more salary the son makes, the more parents brag about him in their friend circle. The bigger the company their son joins, the more swag of that company the parents carry around everywhere — a jacket, a cup, or even a mousepad. My dad still wears a T-shirt with AT&T logo that I gave him almost 15 years ago. Parents watch the weather of their son’s city and read about any natural calamity in US. They call their son at the odd hours to ensure he is safe when any incident happens in US, even if their son lives on the other coast, thousands of miles away from that incident.
When their child comes to the US, they are sad but stand 10 feet tall with pride.
Now imagine, these parents getting the news of their son being the target of a hate crime and getting killed by a maniac. These parents are not thinking about that maniac, they are not thinking about justice. Why? Because they are not thinking any more. They are numb. They can’t believe their son is dead and they have to cremate him vs. their son cremating them. This is not what they saw even in their wildest dreams. This couldn’t be happening to them. They think “There is a mistake somewhere and it’s not our son who got killed.” Their world just crumbled around them. On getting the news, the mom probably passed out right away and don’t be surprised if she even had a heart attack. They can’t bear the news and they rather die than believing that their son is coming back home in a coffin.
As the whole neighborhood, friends, and family gather in the house, no one can stop crying. It’s not easy to accept that their child was killed and it’s multifold harder if he was killed in a foreign county. A person who was educated and was a contributing member of the society. And hey, he didn’t break any laws. He went there because a US company hired him! He was not illegal immigrant! And those 32 years of planting, nurturing, came to an end in a split second. And now there is no future. Then the guilt begins. What if we had never sent him to US? What if we hadn’t sent him to engineering college altogether? What if we had called him that time and he was on phone with us on his landline? Then he won’t be at the bar. Right? And he will still be alive. Can you imagine being that parent and the zillion doubts coming into your mind? What would you do if you were those parents? Would you be able to live with that guilt? If not, think! When you think of immigrants, also think who they have left behind in their country. Think of immigrants’ parents who “donated” their life earnings aka son or daughter to US.
I’m an immigrant — a legal one and a citizen of US. This is my country as much as it’s yours — anyone and everyone out there. If you come to kill me, I swear, I’ll haunt you as a ghost till the very end.