A different kind of migration!

If the reader belongs to the generation which went to school in the 60s and 70s, he/she would recall all those clarion calls made by ancient emperors when their borders were assaulted and the army was short of brawn and bodies.  The king asked each household in the kingdom to volunteer at least one able-bodied man to the war-front.   People did realise that the king was being nice and that `volunteer' bit did not deceive them;  they understood  it was actually a camouflaged mandate to be obeyed by citizens without demur.   Those who were not propelled to comply by bubbling patriotic fervour, were coerced to do so by the stalking fear of humiliation and ostracism from their own folk and the society at large.  The King himself was not overly concerned about the exhortation being labelled `sexist' in calling only able-bodied 'men', because even if the female of the household was bigger in frame, she certainly preferred that the lesser body be always carted to face the poisoned arrows, boiling oil and inebriated elephants running amok.  And more often than not, the men plumped consciously and wisely for what they perceived as the lesser of two evils and were probably happier staring down the dangers of war, rather than live the life of the downtrodden at home, greatly disadvantaged by their own inferior physique! A situation my dear father describes pithily as `the shade of the street-side neem tree being infinitely better than the discomfort of home'!!

One wonders what the citizenry's response would be, if such a clarion call were to originate from our current-day government.  Don't get this scribe wrong, he does not even entertain the vaguest intention of willfully maligning his compatriots as lily-livered.  He is just being a pragmatist in taking cognizance of all the morbid fears and diurnal concerns associated with modern life smothering down the nobler, patriotic instincts somewhat.  While we are good at vociferously demonstrating our love for the country through tumultuous street corner jamborees and in cricket stadia, with pizzas and ice-creams for company, it seems unlikely that we will extend it any further towards to the war-front.  That is probably true of majority of the citizens, this author included.  The overwhelming decree would be that the armed forces are there, they are the specialists and they will get our full-throated support.

What is this leading to, you wonder?? Against this background, think of the hordes of young men and women, voluntarily moving to USA at the mere beckoning, muted-squeak of the IT industry, forget clarion calls.  As a prologue to that, youngsters go by the planeloads thither, to equip themselves with higher education.  It would not be an exaggeration to say that many middle class households in the southern states (may be some other states too) have contributed at least one body to this cause or are in the process of getting that distinction - ah, finally I am relieved I got to the point this somewhat stretched analogy was building up to!  Easy to discern why, though - no danger of combat or bodily harm; on the contrary, the allure of a good life and shining future and why not!  Parents may even feel inadequate if their family is not represented in the USA - a reaction not very different from that of the the able-bodied man who had not gone to war at the king's behest in the old days.  But the `migration' in the title does not refer to the movement of youngsters for livelihood reasons, but what inevitably happens in the aftermath! This is about their parents flitting to and fro, for well-earned holidays and more likely, to provide the familial support that the youngsters desperately need overseas.

In any meeting of friends and families in Bangalore or Chennai or Hyderabad, conversation is not complete without parents exchanging their travel plans to be with the children in New Jersey or Bay Area or some other US city.  The party of the first part (Parents A) gleefully boasting of their forthcoming visit to the Bay Area in the summer months to the party of the second part (Parents B), in all probability means that retired parents are visiting, at a time of their own choice - summer, children who do not have the baggage of their own families to carry.  In response, the party of the second part mumbling something grudgingly about going to Chicago in November/December could mean only one thing -- that their married son or daughter had erred grievously in terms of timing the arrival of their next baby (who will not obviously tolerate the idea of being born outside of the US of A)  in the height of winter or some such similar unavoidable situation.   A typical Madrasi bone-structure (referring only to that which has truly thrived on the humidity and heat of the area for a few decades, has known no other clime and therefore is acutely allergic to anything alien) crackles and rebels at the very thought of being confronted by the icy cold winds of Lake Michigan.  Also, the concept of adding one or more layers of woolen clothing is anathema to a body, which is adept at shedding unwanted layers of clothing with alacrity.  Therefore, if  the party of the second part seems blatantly unhappy, even disconsolate in private, at the thought of having to visit USA in November/December, that indicates it is singularly bereft of options.  It is entirely another matter that what begins as enjoyable summer outings for the party of the first part could rapidly, meaning in a few years, degenerate into the nightmarish trips at inopportune times like the one the party of the second part is now faced with.  This transformation occurs expeditiously when the grown-up-kid in USA decides to get hitched, especially if the 'hitchee' is another kid from the same part of the world, in pretty much similar personal and professional situation as the 'hitcher'!!

For the parents, a trip to US always requires immense and careful psychological tuning, since it results in a temporary but significant life-style change; especially if the SOS arrives at an inconvenient time.  A lack of mental adjustment in the parents is made manifest in the way they diffidently approach the trip and stay there. When one is at the Chennai or Bangalore airport, waiting for the flight to New York or Chicago or elsewhere in the US, one cannot but marvel at the seasonal migration of older people to the US from this part of the world.  The stoic faces of the grey haired uncles and aunts usually give away very little about their state of mind. Some people just breeze through the journey and have a ball on the other side of the globe too.  But for many others, simple folks who have not travelled outside India much or have no craving for such expeditions, it is almost like they are waiting to be brutally launched into deep space without any protection or support. The glazed look screams that all is not well!  The 24-hour rigour of being boxed in an economy seat is sheer torture for most people.  Especially if some sensitive, arthritic limb also hears the pre-boarding announcements and commences those familiar but disconcerting, cracking noises in protest.  The anxiety of being deprived of the essence of life, curd rice, for the duration of the journey and the possibility of having to look at a neighbour tearing his chicken or fish with a fork, exacerbate the discomfort multi-fold for the staunch vegetarian.  If inability to sleep at home in the horizontal position was a minor bother for some, being vertical and sleepless during the journey becomes a major hazard.   If it is an auntie travelling alone, because the spineless uncle cried off and she happens to be parked next to a foreigner on board, the auntie's face remains furrowed into a crease and blanched for most of the journey - as if she has a ghost for company!  There is general trepidation whenever the foreigner tries communicating anything and the deer-in-the-headlights kind of reaction of the lady makes the former beat a hasty retreat, lest he is accused of trying something sinister.

The transit stop en route entails a veritable quest for the holy grail for some inasmuch as the routine chore of identifying the correct gate and flight in a German or French airport assumes gargantuan proportions. For no reason at all, it becomes an exercise of  repeated querying every second step without a clear understanding of the `faulty' pronunciation when the Europeans respond.  Visions of  the whole airport set up conspiring to detain them at the transit stop with some ulterior motive are conjured and the outcome is many more panic buttons are pressed and red lights flash for some time! Add to this, the prospect of facing the biometric ordeal at Immigration after a long wait, saving precious Paruppu Podi from being dumped by the suspicious customs guys with a lucid explanation, the loneliness of living without familiar neighbours, restricted mobility because of the dependency on someone else for movement, inability to go out and wander about in the neighbourhood as is one's wont - the list is unending, for some.

As my wife says every time we meet such parents when we travel, if, despite all this hardship, parents keep winging out to help their kids in the US during times of childbirth, illness, kids' own travels and all other assorted reasons, they deserve kudos for that.  That is the hallmark of that generation, generally speaking I guess - doing this for their children, despite their own apprehensions.  That is why this kind of migratory behaviour is special.  Birds and animals migrate because their current habitation cannot support them any longer with food or water or whatever. But this set of people migrate not necessarily always for fun or survival, but very often against their own volition because their current habitation is probably the best suited for them and they are forced to leave something they love - for the sake of others!!  I only wish they would learn to enjoy such trips.  And the hope is that the youngsters are gracious enough to do as much and more for their parents when the time comes and the need arises.  Actually, I know many who do.  Indeed, that is gratifying!!