Dollar Bahu Read online

  Once they acquired the proper visa or green card, the holed-up ‘skippers’ boldly came out of their concealment, went home to India to marry pretty girls from rich, respectable families and returned in great style, to lead a happy and settled life. They became citizens of Dollar Country and their wives graduated and became ‘Dollar Bahus’.

  Chandru found himself thinking along these lines more often now. The more he thought, the more convinced he was that ‘skipping’ was the best thing to do. With the additional software skills that he had acquired, getting another job would not be difficult either. Of course, he could go back to India and take up a good software job there, but he wasn’t ready to depart from this wondrous land of money and opportunities.

  It did not take him long to make up his mind. He called his mother and explained that only with cooperation from his family members, by keeping things confidential, would he be successful in his plan, and that he would come to India only after he got a green card.

  ‘Of course, we will keep it under wraps! Don’t you worry about such things, just go ahead with your plans. Thanks to the dollars that you have been sending, we are living much better. I do not want to face the same old difficulties again,’ his mother told him quite frankly. More than helping her son in his plan, she was delighted that she could soon tell everyone that her elder son was an NRI.

  Chandru began to scour the employment announcements. Soon, he saw an advertisement for a job with a company based in Nashville, Tennessee, near the East Coast. It was a state with a low density of population and beautiful cattle-grazing pastures. But Nashville was not a place many people wanted to go to. Winter temperatures were bone chilling at 53 °F and hence, despite the fat salaries, hardly anyone applied for jobs there. The new company promised to help Chandru acquire a green card. It was thus the right job at the right place for his period of hiding!

  Without a word to anybody, Chandru sold his car, packed his bags and, leaving the lights on in the house allotted to him by his former employers, simply ‘disappeared’. When his Florida boss made enquiries a week later, he discovered that Chandru had vanished.

  EIGHT

  When the bus to Jayanagar arrived, overflowing with passengers, Vinuta became frantic. If she missed this bus, then she would be almost an hour late for her job at the school, and that was as good as half a day’s leave. Her job was temporary and she could not afford leave without pay. With great pushing and shoving, Vinuta managed to get into the bus. Actually, she disliked doing this, but in a place like Bangalore, she had no choice.

  She leaned on the metal pole flushed with the pride of a victor. The bus conductor asked her where she wanted to go. ‘Jayanagar,’ she said as she fumbled in her purse for change. But all she found was the hundred-rupee note that she had received from the private tuition she was giving. She held out the note. The conductor was most irritated. ‘I don’t have change even for five rupees, where will I get it for a hundred? Anyway tell your husband to buy the ticket.’ The old conductor had got her married in a fraction of a second, without spending a single rupee! Vinuta turned around and saw a tall young man just behind her, smiling and handing over the change to the conductor, saying, ‘Jayanagar, two please.’

  The conductor laughed knowingly. ‘Your husband has the change and you wanted to get change from me?’

  ‘What husband?’ Vinuta shot out, but her question was lost in the swirl of packed humanity. She spoke sternly to the tall man. ‘Listen, sir, I will pay you my fare the minute we disembark.’

  ‘Quite all right,’ the young man said. ‘No problem.’

  ‘For you it’s not a problem. But I cannot accept a free ticket from anybody,’ she said firmly. Vinuta got off at the bus stop to walk to the school where she worked. This had been her routine now for the past several months, commuting every day from her aunt’s house in Rajajinagar to the school in Jayanagar.

  The beautiful Dharwad days had come to an unexpected, abrupt end. Uncle Bheemanna had died suddenly of a heart attack. The family had dispersed, leaving only Seetakka, the grandmother, and Vinuta in Dharwad. Later, even Seetakka went away to stay with her other children but no one was prepared to take the responsibility of supporting Vinuta. She was of marriageable age, with no money of her own and no place to go to. Fortunately, her aunt, Indu, and her husband, Rama Rao, generously offered their support. Indu had said, ‘Bangalore is a big city. You will soon get a job. Once you have a job, it will be easy to get you married. When the marriage is fixed, you can sell the Dharwad house and cover the marriage expenses. For the time being, you can rent it out and keep your things in the upper-storey room.’

  Vinuta felt miserable. She implored, ‘Please let us not sell the house. That is the last remembrance of my parents. I love that garden. My life is in that . . .’

  ‘Vinuta, be practical, child. You cannot afford to be sentimental at this time,’ consoled Indu. ‘Of course, if you find a prince charming who will agree to marry you without any money, then you won’t need to give up the house.’

  Vinuta was distraught. Every tree, every corner, every fragrance, even in the deep dark night, held so many memories, so much happiness. But Indu was right. Vinuta caressed all the plants of her garden and tearfully bid them goodbye. With a heavy heart, she reached Bangalore.

  Though she had a BEd degree she knew she would not get a job right away. So she started giving music lessons at home until she got a temporary job in a school in Jayanagar . . .

  She had walked a few steps when Vinuta realized she had to pay the man for her ticket. She turned round and saw him right behind her.

  ‘My name is Girish. I work in the Jayanagar branch of Canara Bank,’ he said and smiled.

  ‘Just give me two minutes. I will get change,’ she told him.

  Where would she get the change, since none of the shops were open, he thought to himself. But he said nothing. He wanted to see what this self-willed girl would do.

  Vinuta returned after a while, crestfallen. ‘You said you work for a bank. Please, take this hundred-rupee note and get change for me. I will come and collect it later.’

  Girish was taken aback. ‘But . . . but . . . what is your name?’ he asked.

  ‘Vinuta Desai. I am a teacher in that school.’ She pointed towards the school nearby. ‘I must go now. I am getting late.’ She gave him the note and with a polite smile, walked away.

  Girish stared after her, wondering at her behaviour, as she walked out of sight.

  Only after she reached the school did Vinuta realize what she had done. How could she have trusted an unknown man with a hundred rupees, for which she had worked hard all month, merely on the basis of him saying he worked in a bank? Why had she assumed he was speaking the truth? How could she have been so impulsive?

  At the end of the day, she walked to the bank with her fingers crossed. She could not even remember whether his name was Girish or Ramesh.

  Girish was waiting for her outside the bank. ‘If you hadn’t come, I would have come to your school and returned the money,’ he said politely.

  Vinuta was greatly relieved. ‘Do you know someone in that school?’

  ‘I know Shamanna Master very well. I would have sent the money through him if you hadn’t come today. Here is your money.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, with a smile, noticing that he had put it in an envelope.

  In the bus, she opened the envelope and saw it contained change for a full hundred rupees. Girish had not deducted the bus fare!

  About a week later, while Vinuta was helping her aunt in the kitchen, her aunt said, ‘Vinu, this Sunday, take a holiday from your music class.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Some people are coming to see you. A marriage proposal. They are not rich people. From Bangalore only. The boy is a clerk in a bank. He has an elder brother in America who will come to India only after two years. That is why they are planning the second son’s marriage. They also have a daughter, yet to be married off. Are you particular that you