Will She Be Mine by Subir Banerjee Read Free Book Online Page B

sometimes referred to our country as hellish, mostly he deplored the West, including the US, and ranted about patriotic values, as well as spoke of export quality desis , which was how he referred to Indians.
    “Export quality?” I smiled upon first hearing the phrase.
    He laughed. “Spread your antenna wider, RK. Just like select vegetables and fruits are grown with special care in countries like ours with the explicit purpose of exporting them to foreign countries, especially to the West, to earn money, families these days grow kids to send them abroad. The formula is simple. Be born in this nation, absorb her culture, have your roots here, but settle down abroad as soon as you get the chance and replant yourselves in new soil. I don’t know if it’s a kind of business, but these are the export quality desis I referred to.”
    I chuckled at the description. “I'd never settle down abroad. In my opinion only third rate people do that.”
    “Why?” he asked as if affronted.
    “There are unspoken social undercurrents prevalent in the society there. They consider us invaders.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “From what I’ve heard, they don’t welcome the idea of colored people settling in their countries, despite their claims of being an equal opportunity employer and bla-bla.”
    “But the day-to-day life there is much more systematic, cleaner ethically and comfortable. They don’t deny us any of that, though we’re outsiders.” He paused. “My sources of information are authentic.”
    “As if mine aren’t. From what I know of social interactions there, one gradually becomes aware of their aloofness towards us, their condescending attitude and racial undertones,” I defended, but later assumed a more broadminded view. “In a way, it’s natural for them to feel frustrated. It’s a fact that we do take away their jobs. I might feel the same way if they came to our country and took away our jobs.”
    “Not everyone’s like that.”
    “There are exceptions everywhere, but I'd never settle down outside India.”
    “Since neither you nor I have been there, you’re as right as me. Or as wrong.”
    “Agreed. So let’s not bash our heads about life there.”
    “Let’s drop the topic,” he agreed promptly.
    “In my opinion, a few visits to the US for a few days at a time are fine, but no longer than that.”
    “I agree,” was the prompt rejoinder. But he kept the discussion alive, wanting to have the last word. “Who'd want ABCDs anyway?”
    I looked up with interest. “I suppose that’s another spin on being a desi ?”
    “You could call it that,” he replied enigmatically. “You know, RK, I think we should include some of these acronyms in our newsletter’s articles. This campus has a mixed community- the younger ones aspiring to go abroad to the US, while a few older ones returning to settle back here, for whatever reason- each disillusioned in his or her own way. The terminology might appeal to the readers.”
    “What's ABCD, by the way?”
    “I thought you knew. American Born Confused Desi.”
    “Is someone from your family settled there, who’s confused?” I asked with a straight face. “Who told you all this?”
    “Actually, I heard from someone in your family who’s settled there,” he replied smugly.
    “But I don’t have anyone from my family settled there?”
    “You haven’t kept track, that’s all,” he said coolly. “Check at home about uncles and aunties and forgotten cousins. Some of them will turn up there. All Indians have a thread in the US. Those who don’t yet, will have one day.”
    I smiled. “Anyway, who told you about ABCDs?”
    “Unlike you, I don’t rush home every other weekend. I spend my time collaborating with senior students whenever I get a chance. Some of them share their experiences,” he replied dreamily. “RK, in general I love human psychology and am usually keen to observe how people change habits, why they turn greedy, when they start