Love, Dona!

Love, Dona!

I have picked out a name for you

What is it?

I will tell you when we meet.

Dona calls for once a month dinner meeting.  Looking back now, I realize what she was doing. By seeing me personally over the dinner every two or three weeks she was making sure I am doing fine and staying sane.

In the US, it is common for folks to pick up names. I had never thought of it but now that she brought this up, I was curious to see what name she thinks for me. 

Most of the times I carry flowers whenever I see her.  I have never ever seen anyone respect my flowers like she does.  She would take pictures of the flowers and send me showing how they are doing. Those flowers from Virginia Highlands flower shop used to last long, sometime weeks. To gift her flower was an occasion I used to Cherish.

After so many years of gifting flowers I have developed a theory. I can predict with reasonable accuracy the amount of time my relationship with someone is going to last, depending how he or she handles my flowers with in first 10 minutes of receiving it.

Example:  A few years back in Bhopal, I met two awesome ladies both belonging to same socioeconomic class. I took flowers with me to both of them. One did not care enough but the other sent me whatsapp picture of how my flowers are doing. One relation ended within a few days, the other is still going strong.

I had bought proper gift able flowers for the first lady, but for the second I cud not find a flower shop.  It was past 9 and only flower shop open was in the temple. The temple was closed so that shop was almost winding up for the day.

Temple flowers are normally yellow loose Marigold not fit for gifting as a bouquet.  I buy hose loose Marilgold for RS 75 and arrive at her home, where her entire family is shocked to see me carrying flowers in a newspaper.  I was prepared for this so I start with “ Devi Ko Chadane walen phool hain – Mandir Band Ho Gyaa Hai. Hum socha Us Devi Ko nahi Is Devi Pe chada Doon. Swaab Tab Bhi Mielgaa!!”

I have carried flowers to her many more times. Proper flowers. Expensive. Bouquet.  But she talks of those 75RS ones everytime she finds flowers in my hand and she says “ Un phoolon ki baat hi aur thi”.

See what I mean…

What is it? I ask Dona

The name that fits you and that I like is – Dona paused.

My anticipation peaked with names Mike, Sean, Chris doing the rounds of my field of imagination.

The name that I like and fits you like a tee is “Khush Guftaar!”

“What?”

And each letter in Khush Guftaar stands for something.

Where did u find this? This is Persian…

I had gone to the library.

This is how I lost my chance to be called “Sean” or “ Mike” or whatever. The bottom line is “ Khush Guftaar” is what I was, and what I have always will be.

Dona knew it.

Sad part is I do not remember now what each letter stood for in Kush Guftaar.

Life is good. I am elected as the new Senator from the School of Civil Engineering.  I represent my college in the Student Governing council. When the President of the Council asks me to take oath by putting my hand on my heart and repeating after him, I feel something.  Don’t know what to call feeling but the deepest desire and commitment to serve the students comes to mind.  But I am sure it was much deeper something words cant describe.

These days when I see India’s MPS and MLAs take oath, I look for familiar signs n feelings on their faces. Mostly I don’t see anything…

USA V/S Shahid Sayed

“You are herby requested to leave the country by 30^th and inform our office of the arrangements you made to depart, failing of which INS will deport you thereafter”

That was the notice from INS.

My World went into a spin again. But this time I am angry.

I am doing great academically. Why are they being unreasonable to me? What sins have I committed by working and saving money for my tuition? Is this the greatest country they talk about? Why me?

All my frnds are not happy with new INS notice, but they have reconciled to the fact that I have to leave. After crying one night, Dona too accepted my fate.

The only problem is I have not accepted this fate. No. I am not ready to go back to India without my degree.

Crazy ideas entering my mind on hourly basis as the day of departure approaches.

A day before the deadline I call President of the University Dr. Patrick Crecine to seek his help. He is away attending GA Tech football championship in Florida. A lady called Jennifer picks up the phone and talks sweetly. ( She introduces herself as his Girl Friend, I remember. Girlfriends are always nice)

I tell her what INS is doing to me and ask for help from the President. I end my conversation by saying “ I will burn myself at Georgia Tech Student Center if INS deports me today”.

Some student in India had burnt himself protesting against Mandal Commsion – that is where the idea came from.

She calms me down and asks me that I give her 15 mins before I do anything stupid. She wants a promise from me. I promise.

She hangs up.

In 5 minutes two cops knock on my door.  They too do a search of my body for any weapon.

And then they ask me to come up with them for a ride.