| The
X=X+1 Syndrome |
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When an Indian professional becomes a
'Non-Resident Indian' in the United States, he soon starts suffering from a strange
disease. The symptoms are a fixture of restlessness, anxiety, hope and nostalgia. The
virus is a deep inner need to get back home. Like Shakespeare said, "The spirit is
willing but the flesh is weak." The medical world has not coined a word for this
malady. Strange as it is, it could go by a stranger name, the "X + 1" syndrome.
To understand this disease better,
consider the background. Typically middle-class, the would be migrant's sole ambition
through school is to secure admission into one of those heavily government subsidised
institutions - the IITs. With the full backing of a doting family and a good deal of
effort, he achieves his goal. Looking for fresh worlds to conquer, his sights rest on the
new world. Like lemmings to the sea, hordes of IIT graduates descend on the four US
consulates to seek the holiest of holy grails - the F-1 (student) stamp on the passport.
After crossing the visa hurdle and
tearful farewell, our hero departs for the Mecca of higher learning, promising himself and
his family that he will return some day - soon!
The family proudly informs their
relatives of each milestone - his G.P.A., his first car (twenty years old), his trip to
Niagara Falls (photographs), his first winter (parkas, gloves). The two years roll by and
he graduates at the top of his class. Now begins the 'great hunt' for a company that will
not only give him a job but also sponsor him for that 3" X 3" grey plastic,
otherwise known as the Green Card. A US company sensing a good bargain offers him a job.
Naturally, with all the excitement of
seeing his first pay check in four digit dollars, thoughts of returning to India are far
away. His immediate objective of getting the Green Card is reached within a year.
Meanwhile, his family back home worry
about the strange American influences (and more particularly, AIDS). Through contacts they
line up a list of eligible girls from eligible families and wait for the great one's first
trip home. Return he does, at the first available opportunity, with gifts for the family
and mouth-watering tales of prosperity beyond imagination. After interviewing the girls,
he picks the most likely (lucky) one to be Americanised. Since the major reason for the
alliance is his long-term stay abroad, the question of his immediate return does not
arise. Any doubts are set aside by the 'backwardness' of working life, long train travel,
lack of phones, inadequate opportunities for someone with hi-tech qualifications, and so
on.
The newly-weds return to America with
the groom having to explain the system of arranged marriages to the Americans. Most of
them regard it as barbaric and on the same lines as communism. The tongue-tied bride is
cajoled into explaining the bindi and saree. Looking for something homely, the couple
plunges into the frenetic expatriate week-end social scene compromising dinners, videos of
Hindi/regional films, shopping at Indian stores, and bhajans.
Initially, the wife misses the warmth of
her family, but the presence of washing machines, vacuum cleaners, daytime soap operas and
the absence of a domineering mother-in-law helps. Bits of news filtering through from
India, mostly from returning Indians, is eagerly lapped up.
In discussions with friends, the topic
of returning to India arises frequently but is brushed aside by the lord and master who is
now rising in the corporate world and has fast moved into a two garage home - thus
fulfilling the great American Dream. The impending arrival of the first born fulfills the
great Indian Dream. The mother-in-law arrives in time: after all, no right thinking parent
would want their off-spring to be born in India if offered the American alternative.
With all material comforts that money
can bring, begins the first signs of un-easiness - a feeling that somehow things are not
what they should be. The craze for exotic electronic goods, cars and vacations have been
satiated. The week-end gatherings are becoming routine.
Faced with a mid-life crisis, the
upwardly mobile Indian's career graph plateu's out. Younger and more aggressive Americans
are promoted. With one of the periodic mini recessions in the economy and the threat of a
hostile take-over, the job itself seems far from secure.
Unable or unwilling to socialize with
the Americans, the Indian retreats into a cocoon. At the home front,the children have
grown up and along with American accents have imbibed American habits (cartoons,
hamburgers) and values (dating). They respond to their parents' exhortation of leading a
clean Indian way of life by asking endless questions.
The generation gap combines with the
cultural chasm. Not surprisingly, the first serious thoughts of returning to India occur
at this stage. Taking advantage of his vacation time, the Indian returns home to 'explore'
possibilities. Ignoring the underpaid and beaurocratic government sector, he is bewildered
by the 'primitive' state of the private sector. Clearly overqualified even to be a
managing director/chairman he stumbles upon the idea of being an entrepreneur.
In the seventies, his search for an
arena to display his business skills normally ended in poultry farming. In the eighties,
electronics is the name of the game. Undaunted by horror stories about government red tape
and corruption he is determined to overcome the odds - with one catch. He has a few things
to settle in the United States. After all, you can't just throw away a lifetime's work.
And there are things like taxation and customs regulations to be taken note of. Pressed
for a firm date, he says confidently 'next year' and therein lies our story. The next
years come and go but there is no sign of our McCarthian friend.
In other words if 'X' is the current
year, then the objective is to return in the 'X + 1' year. Since 'X' is a changing
variable, the objective is never reached. Unable to truly melt in the 'Great Melting Pot',
chained to his cultural moorings and haunted by an abject fear of giving up an accustomed
standard of living, the Non-Resident Indian vacillates and oscillates between two worlds
in a twilight zone. Strangely, this malady appears to affect only the Indians - all of our
Asian brethren from Japan, Korea and even Pakistan - seem immune to it.
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