“What’s the need to go to Amreeka?” Aai questioned, her gnarled fingers adjusting the folds of her faded nauvari saree. Working relentlessly in the sun had made her skin many shades darker.
“I want all of us to have a better life. I can earn twenty-six dollars per hour, approximately five lakhs per month, working as a mason. I will sell the field and Rupali’s jewels. For the balance amount of the agent’s commission, I am taking a loan. Tu Kalji nako kar ga, Aai.”
Due to drought conditions in Marathwada, the field’s yield was staggard, and the children’s future looked bleak. When Adinath’s neighbor found a job in the US and sent back huge sums of money, Adinath’s mind was set.
Leaning against the cow-dung plastered mud wall, Adinath stared blankly ahead. The field stretched out as far as his eyes could see, the sturdy stalks of bajra adorned with feathery plumes shimmered in the sunlight. The rich, earthy smell of bajra, the birds’ chirpings, and his children’s carefree giggles spilled into the air.
A memory played on repeat mode.
The neem tree’s sturdy branches had borne the weight of Baba’s dangling body. Baba had succumbed to the struggles of life.
Adinath’s face winced in pain.
Seeing his short stature hunched into a ball, Rupali gave her small jewelry potli. Adinath’s eyes clouded with tears.
*
The agent had made all arrangements for his travel within a month.
The evening before he left, he filled his eyes with the picture of his field. A single stray tear escaped his eyes. The field was not his anymore. Aai’s deep sighs, Rupali’s tears, and the children’s long faces moved him deeply. He walked on without looking back even once.
The agent had lined up 30 other men. Only when he was taken to unknown places, did he realize he was fooled. Not once did wading through rivers and trudging along thick forests deter him. His body was fine-tuned to hardship. But when one of the men was shot by the guards, panic, stress, and worry overwhelmed his senses. The piteous condition of his family pushed him to go on.
They had almost reached the US borders when they heard, “Raise your arms and kneel.” The US border patrol handcuffed and chained their legs. They were bundled into a military aircraft. Shame and remorse pierced through Adinath. This blow was the harshest of them all. None of them spoke. The stoic silence was their cries of pain.
Within the next 72 hours, he was home.
“Devache Aabhaar! Majha mulga suraksit aahe,” Aai mumbled.
Seeing his family, Adinath broke down. He covered his face with his palms. His children huddled around him. Looking at their drawn faces, Adinath decided that, unlike Baba, he wouldn’t succumb.
He didn’t want life to come full circle for his family.
Leaning against the cow-dung plastered mud wall, Adinath stared at the swaying bajra plants. This time he nodded at them with a firm resolve.
Glossary:
- Aai: mother
- Nauvari: a traditional attire of women in Maharashtra
- Bajra: pearl millet
- Potli: a small bag
- Baba: father
- Devache abhaar majha mulga surakshit aahe: Thank God! My son is safe.
- Tu Kalji Nako Kar Ga: You don’t worry.
