Wednesday, December 01, 2004

Going to Foreign

When one gets admission into a university abroad, suddenly the whole world changes. The candidate has stars in his eyes and a spring in his step. He dreams of success and gori mems, but then tuition fees, bank loans and the apprehension of leaving all that is familiar do their bit in getting him back to earth. Added to this is relatives' advice.

My brother's going to Canada for higher studies. So I get secondhand advice (that's like secondhand smoking). "Take care of your GPAs... don't let it slip in the first year... don't concentrate on activities other than studies. Don't go for debates and other extra-curricular stuff. Just think about your grades. Focus on studies. Get to know the Muslim Students' Association members and don't make any friends outside of those." That's my aunt who lives in Houston. "Don't go for weekend parties." That's her husband with his sole contribution. Yes, I understand. Weekend parties ruin people. Moral hazard and whatnot!

After advice is concern. "Is there anyone there? Oh, your chacha... that's nice then. Will he receive you at the airport? Oh, good... then you won't feel homesick at all. Will you stay with him? That's really nice...."

And they feed him. "Here, have half a dozen more parathas and another gulab jamun." It's like he's going into hibernation not Canada. What's the connection between eating and going? Seriously, I don't understand why the Indian female suffers from what I will call the 'Frenzied Feeding Fever' or FFF©. They insist on overfeeding their children. They like round khaatey peetey ghar ke bachche, nevermind cholestrol or coronaries. Would they like to see us as bloated versions of teletubbies? Sigh. We're digressing.

So coming back to the point, so much is made out of somebody going abroad to study. I'm sick of listening to all the advice they're giving him. "Don't eat outside food." "Don't mix with children who drink or smoke." "Wash your own underwear." (No, I didn't make this up!) "Do shave, they might think you're a terrorist". (This one was mine. Hehehe.)

But you know, it's still not that bad. Bad will be when they insist on coming to the airport stuffed into three Tata Sumos and garlanding him right in the airport terminal... *shudder*