I was assigned a 6-month internship at Veritas Software in Pune as part of my last semester Practice School program. It was a full twelve-hour train journey to Pune. My mind became a racecourse in those twelve hours. Thoughts were running wild, anxiety and nervousness paramount. The temperate climate of the city came to my rescue, but the first major relief arrived when I received my first paycheck.
“11,200 rupees! That’s a goddamn boatload of money!” I exclaimed upon seeing my paycheck. I had never seen so much money in my entire life. I could not get enough of fluttering the stack of money I had just withdrawn from the bank, like a deck of cards fanning my face with it. Anxiety had turned into felicitation. Money speaks after all…especially when it is your own.
“Should I save it? Should I spend it? Maybe a little bit of both?” Thoughts were seesawing. Nevertheless, I decided to spend the entire amount since this was the first. Savings could come later. “A Casio watch for dad, a saree for mom, a phone for my brother, and earrings for my sister. That should do it.” I thought and executed my plan flawlessly.
The economic condition at that time dictated that I save up some money, but the internship stipend barely afforded me a room, bitter-as-hell 8 PM whiskey, a few packs of Wills Navy Cut midget cigarettes, occasional visits to restaurants and movie theaters, and…a snail-paced motorbike deserving of an antique museum. Many graduates with a Master’s degree were already returning to India in herds from the US due to the recession-induced anemic US economy. Luckily for me, my manager in Veritas quit the company to start his own, and I was the first employee he hired.
“18,000 rupees.” Now we’re talking. That was my new salary in the new company, and it was a significant upgrade. The snail-paced 100cc Bajaj 4S Champion was replaced by a new trendy and sporty 150cc Bajaj Pulsar with disc brakes. 8PM whiskey turned into Blenders Pride blended scotch, Wills Navy Cut became Rothmans, and an acoustic guitar was upgraded to an electric one. I was no longer a peasant. Life was good.
However, once bitten by the money bug, you can’t stop. Neither could I. Soon after, I upgraded from a bike to a car. It was a pre-owned Hyundai Accent with 50,000 kms on it which I purchased for 3,80,000 INR in cash. These were the times when most people drove Maruti 800, Zen, or Hyundai Santro, so it was obvious that most people regarded me as a spoiled brat of a rich man when I drove my car. I was relishing it, but I wanted more.
A few months later, I was given the opportunity to visit Canada for a client project (Read First Trip Outside India). The experience was overwhelming, and it indeed changed equations for me a bit in terms of my future plans.
“I want more of it…but what about UPSC plans?” I thought to myself.
“Well, I’m only 22, and I have eight more years before I become ineligible for the exam. A couple of years overseas won’t hurt. The money is good too,” I mused to myself.
“But how do I get there?” was the question.
Applying for a job on companies’ websites and seeking sponsorship were futile efforts.
“Consultancy?” I dismissed that thought. They were parasitic agents who would sponsor a work visa at your expense, hold your passport hostage, and take a big bite out of your paycheck until they have sucked the last drop of your blood. They had nothing to lose. No wonder they were derogatorily labeled as bodyshoppers. I was not ready for that kind of hostage situation.
The conventional route of higher studies seemed to be the only option. I half-heartedly bought a bunch of GMAT books to prepare for the exam. Every evening, I would lie in bed, staring at the book, calculating the tens of thousands of dollars loan I would need to take out at exorbitant interest rates to fund my studies, with no guarantee of a job. I wondered if there was a better way.
Just when I was about to pursue my GMAT plan, I heard the news that my co-worker, Suresh, had resigned from the company to move to the US. Without wasting a moment, I got in touch with Suresh to congratulate him. (Yeah right! I just fuckin’ wanted him to spit out the clues I needed.)
“Congratulations, man! You did well,” I said.
“Thanks, dude. I was shit tired of hauling my ass all day long in that pigeonhole cubicle for wages the size of a peanut,” Suresh replied bitterly. And my manager, that malicious sadist, withheld my promotion for far too long. He tempted me with a carrot of an onsite trip instead of an appraisal and raise for years. Am I a fucking peasant?” The words escaped his lips in a venomous burst, fueled by years of pent-up bitterness.
“I share your frustration, my friend. I am in the same boat and seeking a way out,” I replied, tactfully echoing his sentiments.
“Then why don’t you join me? My consultant is exceptional, and he secured my H1B visa without charging a penny,” Suresh’s words were dripping with honey. This is exactly what I had called him for!
“He even provided me with free accommodation until I found a job, opened a bank account for me, and deposited a generous sum of $100. And guess what, he paid for my first grocery bill too!” Suresh continued, his words laced with seduction. It was all sounding too good to be true.
“And tomorrow he is buying me a lap…”
“So how do I go about it?” I interrupted before he killed me with jealousy and temptation.
“…top,” he finished his previous sentence anyway.
“Just send me your resume and I’ll handle the rest.” He assured.
True to his words, he set me up with the consultant and within two weeks, my h1b visa was filed. This was June of the year 2005.
As fate would have it, I received an invitation to meet with a client in California a few weeks after my visa was filed. The assignment was slated to last three weeks, with a daily allowance of $50, accommodations arranged at the Holiday Inn hotel, and a rental car for the daily commute (on the condition that I could do a left-hand drive) [Read First Trip to the US].
Coincidentally, the consultant who had facilitated my H1B visa application was conveniently located only a stone’s throw away from my Californian client’s office. Despite the visa filing being weeks in the past, there was still no indication of any movement or approval. I was so eager to get the approval that I drove personally to the consultant’s office and handed him $1500 cash that I had meticulously saved from the per diem allowance from the client visit to upgrade my visa application to premium processing which would expedite the application process, guaranteeing a decision within two weeks. Sure enough, just a week after I returned to India after my US trip, my consultant called me to deliver the life-changing news; my H1B visa had been approved! This was August 2005 and it was the last year before the H1B visa lottery system was introduced, a time when obtaining this visa was not yet fiercely competitive. For me, the whole process was akin to a seamless buttery ride, arriving effortlessly on a silver platter, as if fate had predestined it. The approval notice wasn’t just an ordinary piece of paper; it was the gateway to pursue the fabled “American Dream”.
A month later, I bid farewell to my company and embarked on a one-way flight to San Francisco, California [Read: Pursuing the American Dream].
