The Bristol Park
By Rajbir Deswal
Redmond near Seattle in the US, being the headquarters of
Micorsoft has a sizable population of Indians, largely engineers and other
management professionals. These boys and girls match up in matrimony on an
equal eye-level basis seeking to pursue their respective careers. Obviously
then that, if they stay as what they call DINK—Double income no kids, it’s OK,
but having decided to ‘let’s be a family now’ entails in the offing newborns
and toddlers, being taken care of largely by importing parents from back-home
in India . The young and the old are then parked gleefully in the near
proximity of the house. And it’s a world of a different kind—in the Bristol
Park and such like.
The grandparents from India like to be with their grand
children being fondly in affection with them as against the western dubbing of
it as an activity called baby-sitting—which can be hired too. At the park
school bus stop, they come to send off and receive back their grand children.
They wave them with bye-byes, love yous with flying kisses—something they had
never done at home. Hugs are universal though.
When the School Bus leaves, many of them stay for a little
while more. To share things that they miss. To reflect the times they spent
back home. To discuss the cultural differences. To empathise if need be. To promise
to stay in touch after returning to India. And so on. All this is very much
like the ‘Sunset Club’ conceived and penned by Khushwant Singh. Ritualistic and
ceremonial occasions too are celebrated here. A unique bonhomie is seen
sprawling here, taking into its fold all the diversities that exist between us
back home in Inida. Everything seems to melt down to a commonness of sorts.
Indian men here generally play cricket too. They are formed into different
clubs that they think would introduce this ‘religion’ of India to the Americans
who love Soccer, Baseball and Rugby more.
I witnessed the Ganesha devout Hindus congregating at the
park on the start date of Ganesh Chaturthi. The Deity was mounted on a truck and
recorded hymns and aarti were being played. Some women wearing traditional
sarees were there to sing along. Two Brahman priests too were performing
rituals while some amongst the men-folk did their shop-talk. I paid my
obeisance when a women walked up to me to offer Prasad which I carried home in
a use-and-throw plate. There was a polyethylene bad appropriately placed to put
the trash in. While walking away from the Bristol Park, I thought how close India
is parked in this alien land.
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