Friday, May 6, 2005

Grass is green.

He always considered himself unlucky for working here. He hated things and this system of bribing from the core of his heart. He considered whatever he used to do was pathetic; the compensation they used to give him for his work was pittance compared to his counterparts in states. He always dreamed of big things. In back of his mind he always tried to find out the price of commodity by converting its price from US Dollars to INR and comparing them.
One day he quit his company, took loan and sailed away for the luring states. He was very happy to be in the country of his dreams, the country he always liked, the country he thought has the fairest treatment. He was very proud of himself for being there, earning money. He had hit a goldmine. As the days passed, he realized that the money he has accumulated is not enough. The more he tried, the more he worried, the more it fell short of his target. The target always seemed distant. It was after two years he realized that it is pointless working here. He realized however bad his own country looked then, was in fact better than his present living condition. At least he never had to take appointment to meet his parents or friends. He never had to worry about anything alone; his friends were always there for support. More over he was never treated like a foreigner. Here, they never showed it but they never behaved like they would have behaved with their own countrymen. What has he got there, money sure enough, but he has lost his relatives, his friends, his mental peace, his tradition, his values, his time and his culture.

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