Goodbye Uncle Sam...
It was a typical weekend. I was looking outside the window, watching the beautiful girls in short skirts across the street. They were playing their usual basketball. Being a Saturday I had woken up pretty late - around seven-ish, got fresh and had indulged myself with a hot cup of chocolate. Relaxing at the living room couch, I was trying to watch life through those huge French windows that almost covered the entire wall. Paige, (I think that was what they called her at home), lived bang opposite to our apartment. She was one little sweetheart I always secretly admired. It was painful to see her fail repeatedly as she tried her best to aim the ball back into the basket. The size of the ball was much bigger than her itsy-bitsy head, but she never gave up hope. Paige looked much more colorful and way too lively for her age. The colorful clips and rubber bands that clinged tightly to her hair, reminded me of my crayons. When I was young, I always used to paint with all possible colors. It would make my stick-man look like a rainbow. It would make my mountains look like a fruit market. And it would make my sky look like a grassland.
And today happened to be the first day of October. Autumn was just setting in. I could notice a couple of ripe leaves letting go every now and then from the trees in the front-yard Well, it was nothing like the peak of fall, when the lightest breeze would be strong enough to shower a bunch of leaves. Of all the trees around, the transformation on the maple tree in front of her home deserved attention. Watching the green change into yellow and then orange and red and all the blending of ripe colors in between.. aaaaaaah it was such a lovely sight indeed. Apart from the bird house that hung on that particular maple tree, there was another reason why the maple leaves had left a strong mark on my heart. And that was ever since I saw the winning entry at the local library crafts competition. Little Paige had made a beautiful card adorned with ugly scribbling and a faded maple leaf. It was supposed to be a struggling replication of a valentine's day card, but it had done it's job well. The words in particular had stole my heart (and I am sure that was the only reason why the judges rated her the best). Just beneath the leaves, it read - "Caring is good and loving is better. But it is sharing that is the best.. because you can't share if you can't love and you can't share if you can't care". Although the beauty of the card was lost in the crowd, it had made an impact. Sadly not many were old enough (or mature enough) to appreciate the delicate efforts put in by this 6 year old for creating such a beautiful masterpiece.
Anyways, today was somewhat different from any other day. I knew I would never be watching Paige again. I have to say goodbye to Uncle Sam (or the United States) My flight was scheduled to depart later today. I just had around half a day left. Our short stay here was coming to a halt. The decision to finally pack our bags and get back to a place called good old Home came all of a sudden and out of the blue. I could call it circumstances, or maybe thoughtful thinking, or perhaps even a foolish decision. But I think it would be best to simply call it destiny. New York had of course been such a cozy and happening place. And I had actually started getting fond of Long Island. Ever since I came to know that the character - Ross Geller (of the F-R-I-E-N-D-S TV Show) was born and brought up in Long Island, I had started cherishing the place where I used to live. Surrounded by the Atlantic ocean from three sides, the long strip of the island had a sultry yet blissful climate. Living here was like a dream come true. And the dream was now coming to the end. It was now or never. We realized that we were getting adapted to the US culture and it was getting more and more difficult for us to break free. The roots were creeping down the soil and soon we would have ended up as resident aliens. I hate that term because as outsiders in the United States, you are either a temporary alien or a permanent alien. You are either a non-resident alien or a resident alien The fact is that you will always remain an alien. No matter how rich you become, or how friendly you are, you cannot possibly win all their hearts. Racism or no Racism, we cannot change the color of our skins and we would always remain brownies. And that's a truth that many Indians abroad take with a pinch of salt. They won't admit it, but deep in their hearts they feel out-of-the-place. But they still love their own motherland deeply, because if that were not true, you can not ever justify the long queues at the Patel Brothers grocery store, where they line up to buy Parle-G biscuits, turmeric powder, gulab jamuns and curry leaves Be it New York, be it Chicago, be it California or be it Texas, they won't mind driving hundreds of miles to get a touch of ethnicity. Even if it comes with a handsome price!
Coming back to to the point, I had to say yet another goodbye. But frankly I did not want to say goodbye to Paige, because I knew it would bring tears. Not in her eyes, but for sure in mine. I did not want to miss this lively little girl. Experience has taught me that letting go can be very cruel at times and that too for no logical reasons. But life has got to move on. That's the rule. And like it or not, we all have to live by that rule. And as the girls finished their game and went inside, I shut the drapes and started to vacuum the carpet one last time. The apartment had to be returned to the landlord clean and neat, the same way it was when we first rented them. That day breakfast and lunch had to be from Mac Donald's because we had disposed almost everything that we had and packed the rest to take back as souvenir.
By late noon. the taxi driver had come for the pick-up. We secured our large baggage safely and waved goodbye to the kind neighbors and friends and I was glad Paige was not there. We started off for the airport. I felt a bit odd having to sit at the passenger's seat after what it seemed like ages to me. As the driver cruised through the Southern Parkway, we kept looking around trying to capture one last glimpse of the memories before it gets faded for ever. It took less than an hour to reach the JFK international terminal number 4 and we got down and unloaded the baggage from the mini-van. The driver was a Pakistani and he thanked me with an As-Salamu Alaykum when I gave him a 20$ tip. I knew it would be my last chance to give a tip in dollars and I wanted to be as graceful as I could possibly be.
As we entered the huge terminal gates with our luggage, it felt as if we were crossing a time-warp It suddenly felt like our first day at the US. Confused, baffled, scared and lonely. But one look at the huge LCD screens which displayed the departure flights for the day, and we could easily find our destination listed out there. So we mustered up our courage, put aside our emotions and then checked in our baggage. The official procedures were completed quickly, and we were among the first to be done with the security scans. The airport staff at JFK were well known for patting the passengers during the manual checks. But I seriously wondered what was the fuss in that. It is nothing compared to what we get when we board the crowded public transportation vehicles back home in India. Anyways after an hour's wait at the passenger lounge, we were asked to get on-board a yellow low floor bus that would take us near the destined aircraft which would eventually fly us back home. As I climbed the escalators, I could feel a pinch deep in my heart. I did not know whether it tasted sweet or if it tasted bitter. I think it tasted bitter-sweet.
In less than half an hour, the announcements were made on board the flight by the Captain and soon we were ready for take off. The plane started taxying on the runway and before I could blink the plane took off. Closing my eyes while trying to adjust with the increasing G-force, I mentally relaxed for a while. When I opened my eyes I couldn't figure out the sun anywhere, maybe coz it was evening and we were on the east coast. But down below I could see the Atlantic Ocean covering almost all the view, and the wide horizon had a silver lining.
And finally..... we were on our way back home!
Memoirs from the U.S.A.
