Why i hate gultis

After it was done, we avoided each other. I missed my period by two weeks and one late Saturday night, drunk on red wine, I called him sobbing. He saw me the next day, petrified. We had both taken local buses to a mall in a rundown part of town, where we figured no one would see us.

At the Taco Bell, he bought me a burrito and told me he wanted to go to college and wasn't ready to be a father. And then he went on about how he thought I had taken something and how I told him it would be safe. And then finally he apologized and said that he would do whatever I wanted.

He said it again and again, because it sounded safe. I was jealous of him for that, for having such an easy role to play in this. He kept offering to buy me soft-drinks and ice cream, because he had seen the movies where the pregnant women are ravenous and demanding and require sweetness and indulgence.

I laughed because he thought that was what we were, and I saw a little spark of hope or relief in his face, as if our situation were some hoax.

But I was laughing because I had considered asking him what he thought we should do. I didn't though. That would have been unfair; I was already going to get dismantled by this decision and I wanted to protect him from the same. At school, I held myself together.

Only when I came home did I fall apart. I hid in my bedroom, hoping that my depression would seem only like typical teenage angst, but my mother caught on pretty quickly. For a week, I held onto my secret and we got into a thousand little fights about everything from my homework to my tone of speech.

When I finally told her the news, she looked relieved before she was disappointed, just as, the next day when she took me to her doctor who told me I was pregnant, I felt first vindicated—I knew my body so well! I remember also thinking that I was glad that Raj and I were both Indian; it would be a helluva time to get a half-Indian child adopted.

But in the end, we did not go that route. I had very little energy, little in reserve and nothing to waste. My personality was ramshackle and hasty, just whatever quick decisions I could make to bridge the gap between self and circumstance. Later on, I felt my personality to be larger and more authentic—the same under all circumstances—but it was even less free; it was nothing besides the history of all the things I did, and some of the things I did not do.

Before my father finally got his promotion and my mother could quit working, their vacations were too short, two weeks each year, too little time to risk the jet-lag, too little time to risk me getting sick from the food or water, too little time for my parents to give equal and meaningful attention to both my mother's side and my father's side.

And of course, the longer my parents waited to return, the more momentous their return seemed and the more inadequate those two weeks. But having got used to the light touch they applied to their origins, I had difficulty seeing my parents now grabbing them up with both hands. I don't remember any awkward period in their coming over, a time when they were annoyed with the power failures, with the bribes to the traffic cops, with the beggars clamoring for them and with the absence of toilet paper.

They had endless patience in Andhra. We were there for three months and if my father had to spend every day in his mother's living room, eating her idlis and drinking her coffee, that man would have wanted for nothing in his life.

When we were all together, the talking always started in English, so that I could join in, but the gang shook me off soon enough and their talk took flight into Telugu. I didn't know what they were saying to each other. Yet the group seemed to come together seamlessly, all the members knowing intuitively when to let one of them shine, and when to chorus together—a jazz quartet on a cruise ship.

While they chatted, I tried to look busy. I told myself I owed Raj a letter, so I tried to write him one. I thought of what I wanted to say to him, and also what he might want to hear from me, but I had no idea about either. And as I sat there, listening to my family trot and loll, my father and his sisters and brothers, my mother and her brothers, I could not help but think that even if they did not have a common past, they wouldn't have needed one; they would have found one another all the same, and they would have all been as close to one another as they were.

If it were to come to surface that some of them had been switched at birth, their love for one another would remain. Andhra Pradesh Rain. AP Covid Cases. This story is from March 2, The advise ranges from asking Indians not to flaunt their expensive vehicles and drawing attention to their position and earnings. Telugus from Telangana who have settled in the US are taking measures to prevent themselves from getting into trouble with Americans with a racist bent of mind and are also giving out suggestions.

In the aftermath of the killing of Srinivas Kuchibhotla , an aviation engineer from Hyderabad working for Gramin in Olathe, Kansas, USA, on February 22, the association is of the opinion that Telugus should take necessary precautions. Over the last two decades, the Telugus have come to dominate the technology sector and constitute one of the highly successful ethnic communities in America.

More than six lakh Telugus are estimated to be living in the US. Many youngsters are pursuing advanced degrees and have become successful software professionals, engineers, doctors and business managers. Twelve Telugus were killed in the last three years, a majority of them related to hate crime and road rage. Between and , Hyderabad had sent over 26, students to the US, a majority of them pursuing science, technology, engineering, or mathematics STEM degrees.

The lure of quality higher education and high-paying jobs draws young Telugus to the US. The migration of Telugus to the US picked up momentum in the s when technology sector presented immense opportunities. The technology boom, aided by global race to tackle Y2K problem, provided an ideal platform for young engineers from Andhra Pradesh to migrate in search of greener pastures.

He had his schooling in Hyderabad and migrated to America after obtaining Engineering degree from Manipal University. It asked them not to speak in their mother tongue in public places and not to flaunt their wealth and expensive vehicles as it would draw attention to their position and earnings. Incidentally, Telugus are among the high earning income brackets in the US. Many Telugus who have made America their home feel that their future is uncertain due to imminent restrictions on the H1-B programme.

Is it the end of the Great American Dream for Indian techies? That dream may not come true now. There are thousands of Indian engineers like him who are more than willing to work for a low salary, if they get to work in America under H-1B. It is seen as a passport to a dream life in the Land of Opportunities. The Kansas victim and his colleague were on H1-B visa. Hypocrisy is in our blood. AleAle Posted June 6, Ask Madrasis if they hate gultis. JohnSnow Posted June 6, Just now, JohnSnow said:.

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