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The Farewell - Sandhya Acharya Sandhya, 21, lives in Thane, a suburb of Mumbai. She works with Siemens at Worli, which happens to be a long way from her home. The grind of a 6 hours daily commute to and from work do not deter her from finding time to pursue her other interests - reading, writing and music. She has studied German and is quite conversant with the language. She explains her view of life with - "My friends call me Dream Girl, not because I look like one (As you can see I am hardly a looker), but because I dream a lot. I believe that dreams sustain your today and build your tomorrow." As is evident, besides being talented Sandhya is also modest!

The house was agog with activity. People were streaming in and out some with huge bouquets, some with costly cards. Everyone had a story to tell like at all important occasions when everyone seems to have lived the same experience. It was almost an occasion. My son was bound for the US of A the land of dreams to realize his dreams, to make it big in life.

He was always a bright student. He made his parents so proud. He sailed through college without any troubles- no drinking, no smoking, no drugs. Then he applied to universities abroad and they had accepted him and were providing him aid as well. Lucky boy everyone was saying. People were asking him addresses in the hope that he would go and deliver something to their kin in the same city. Of course I was happy. They told me I was lucky to have a son like that.

But why did it feel like I was bidding him farewell forever. My heart felt a little numb and my mind was clouded. He would leave my son in another week. All his shopping was done. He had even learnt to cook so he could fend for his own. His face glistened with hope and expectations of a new tomorrow.

He would finish his course in two years and then he would look for a job over there. It is of no use trying to live here Ma he said. This is no place for the simple people. You have to either have a lot of money or a crooks street-smartness. My neighbors told me he would get a sleek car in no time and a well furnished apartment as well. He will live like a king and earn in dollars. Then you too can go there with him and make your home with his wife and your grand children. I smiled and nodded my head trying to look excited. The bell rang once again. It was my maid-servant. She was late today, but I didn't feel like chiding her. I wondered about her world. She had three children- all boys. She was happy about it. Her boys went to the nearby municipal school and she claimed they were good at their studies. From the past two years she said her eldest boy was in the fourth standard. She wanted her sons to get a good secure government job to become a bada afsar in a bada daftar. I wondered what her sons' ambition- "The Big Dream" would be.

I kept her customary glass of tea and then went to my sons room with a glass for him. He hugged me and showed me all his suitcases with all the winter clothes and sturdy shoes he had bought. He also carried some cassettes of ghazals alongside his staple Pink Floyd. What a strange combination of the east and the west todays generation has become I mused. Presently the phone rang again - it must be one of his friends wishing him luck. I collected his empty glass and went into the kitchen. As I washed the glass I suddenly felt tears moisten my cheeks. A lump seemed to form in my throat. I took a deep breath and went and washed my face. It was unfair I thought that the world didn't change its rhythm when my life was in disarray. I looked outside at the small garden I had built with my own hands in the society we lived in. There was a creeper- a beautiful delicate one with flowers adorning it like jewels, but swerved around a huge tree for support. The tree itself rose proudly with its branches stretching far ahead, but with strong roots- so strong it seemed imposing in its splendor. What would we choose to be if we were them? My mind seemed to probe for answers. Life's choices are as complex as life itself.

I was broken out of my reverie by my son's voice. He called out to me to step into the car where we would drive him to the airport. It was time to say farewell.

Until we connect again....

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