A few years back, We had gone to the fabled, desired USA to be with my brother's family and we really enjoyed our Diwali vacations together, had a nice time in Miami, shopped till we dropped and saw the dazzling sights. Soon, We left for Mumbai with heavy hearts and tears in our eyes. This was my family's best Diwali vacation ever!
I was carrying few hand-gifts back, which I had brought from Mumbai to give away to my near and dear cousins, settled in the fabled land since years and decades.
We went for the first time in our lives, crossed many oceans, travelled thousand miles to be in the USA. Yet, for two weeks, no one bothered to make a courtesy call also.It was an unpleasant experience for me and hurt me badly. All these years,I thought myself worthy of atleast one courtesy call. That was not to be and my hopes dashed.
I heard that, local calls in this country were free.
Still, the reason preventing them from calling me, escaped my naive native intelligence. These NRI cousins were always royally treated by our family, in their visits back home in our desi Mumbai. We extended our humble hospitality, taking care to arrange boiled mineral water and reclean our cutlery so as to protect them from third world germs.We went all out to appease them and bragged about their visits to our class students, the next day.
May be, they had become too big for us, they were now first world classy people and we, mere simple massy mortals from the third world. We were reminding them of their roots and long suppressed past memories, which may have evoked such behaviour on their part.Who knows?People change with time and place,that bitter fact dawned on me.
I carried my humble hand-gifts back home disappointingly.
I have kept them in a locker in my wardrobe.
I call it The Hurt Locker!
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