There are those times when you are out of words and hence don't know what to begin with. And then there are times when you have so much to say that you can't decide where to start from. For my readers who might not be aware of this term H4, let me give a brief description. If a citizen of any country other than the United States of America enters the States with a temporary work permit ,this type of visa is called a H1B type of visa.
Now if another person takes the outrageously risky decision of marrying this person and accompanying him/her to the States, she/he gets the most blessed wedding gift of a life long vacation called H4 type visa. If you are a wife accompanying your husband, general reactions of your well wishers would be, " Lucky girl she is, I wish our daughter also gets such a well settled life". The famous "Well settled life". The ultimate Aim of any common person making an honest living. But unfortunately if you are a husband accompanying your wife on a H4 visa status, may God help you.
If you are stamped with the infamous "H4" type of visa, it does not give you the permission to work in the States. Well, that's the shortest way of describing it. A few more details would be, you will have no Social Security Number. Hence, you can't get a separate bank account, you can't get admission to an educational institution, you can't issue a credit card on your name, you can't get a mobile connection on your name etc. The " you can't " list will continue till my next post if I were to describe it all. So, basically you are a shadow of your spouse. You should not expect to be more than that unless your spouse is lucky enough to be working with a L1 visa ( learning visa) or unless your spouse hits a jackpot of getting a Green Card ( permanent work permit in the States) on the process and a i140 right around the corner. The reason being, an i140 of your spouse would bestow upon you a hypnotic light of hope called "EAD" ( work permit for a H4 type visa holder). And you would lead a happier life, no more a shadow of your spouse, but now a bright reflection of him/her on a marble floor.
Now ,that is just about your "visa status", quite justified under the eyes of law of the most powerful democracy of the world, which has every right to protect the rights of its citizens. But what about your rights as a human being? How exactly should you expect your perfect "well settled life" to be? And that's the tricky question. Well, I can only describe mine. So here goes.
I am an Indian woman belonging to a well educated middle class family from the City of Joy, Kolkata. Well, not so joyful as far as its educational system is concerned. It's a rat race here. If you slow down or try to traverse a different route than "everyone else" then you are OUT. And OUT would mean, OUT of the good books of your teachers, OUT of the hopes and dreams of your hard working parents, OUT of the cool group of the more "Successful " friends. These friends would compose the "everyone else" blessed cult that you need to follow . And sometimes it's the dreadful OUT, of holding on to the wish of staying alive. With 73% higher rates of student suicide cases than any other developing nations, this is one of the sad realities of my country. Well, If you are not a doctor or an engineer you are even OUT of the last rack of a matrimonial office! So basically, You are nowhere. Hence, that was the driving force behind my aspirations of becoming an Engineer. A small insignificant detail being, I was one of the fortunate Engineers to receive my Bachelors of Technology degree certificate from the then honorary Governor of West Bengal, Mr. Gopal Krishna Gandhi. The ceremony gave me a useless shiny medal for being the highest scorer of the State and the much needed graduation certificate that would define my life. The shiny thing was something which none of the employers cared about. And the piece of paper was my license of leading a "successful" life like " everyone else ". Eventually,I started my dazzlingly mundane work life as an IT professional in a renowned MNC of India. With my hopes of persuing higher studies being shattered and my title of being a topper not aiding much to convince my parents, I too was one of the million "non IT" Software Engineer. My subject ( Biomedical Engineering) was inadequate in providing enough conveniences and packages as IT did.Hence,I made the first sacrifice or compromise of my life. I followed the crowd instead of pursuing my dreams.
The Earth continued rotating on its axis at 37 degrees tilt as days passed and She kept revolving around the Sun on her elliptical orbit as years passed. Thankfully I was quick in learning, relearning and delearning. Hence, I went on climbing the steps in my career with ease. But Oops! I am a woman and now came the time I needed to get married. Atleast according to an aunt whom I hardly knew. And yes, her opinion mattered. It was the "Rice Ceremony " of her grandchild where we were invited. They had invited "everyone " they knew, and even some they hardly knew. The aunt was kind enough to find time to discuss the future of someone's daughter whom she hardly knew. After all it was her social duty to bring marriage proposals for a "not so close" relative's daughter (me) while changing the diaper of the baby. Well, it wasn't the baby's fault, he had eaten rice for the first time. The whole event rang a bell in my parent's head. With this let me lead you towards another little detail of my life.
Well, along with the "useless shiny medal" and the "significant degree certificate" I had inherited another important thing from my college life. My boyfriend. A place I would find peace and moments of almost forgetting the rat race. He too was following the enlightened path lead by Mr."Everyone else " and was a Software Engineer. He was working in another renowned MNC of India but located in a different state miles away from me. We would not be blessed with more than one day of meeting each other in a whole year. Thanks to the hardly known aunt from the Rice ceremony, I seeked an opportunity of raising the topic to my parents.
It was not that they were unaware of my relationship. Before saying a "Yes" to my boyfriend I had first introduced him to my parents to seek their permission. Well, that's the only way you can keep a boyfriend in India. Introducing him to your parents, proving him capable of providing you a " well settled life" in the future and of course, belonging to the same caste and community. My boyfriend being a Computer Engineer on the first place checked all the boxes of the list. Lucky me. So now came the time when the parents would think of talking to each other. After a lot of confusion and expectations of which side should make the proposal first, they would actually meet up and set a date.
After a full year of introducing each other's families, friends and neighbors and seeking acceptance of everyone including the hardly known aunt from the Rice ceremony, we had a date. 29th of November,2013. With a full nod from most of the people and a partial nod from few who were not sure because of the numerological aspect of the date, it was at last a green signal. Well, here came the time I was to make my second sacrifice or compromise. My boyfriend who was now my fiance got the golden opportunity of being deported on-site to the States and achieved the ultimate aim of every IT professional. It is called the "H1B" status. My would be parents-in-law declared me lucky for their family and my parents were ecstatic as the only unchecked box on their list was now checked. Finally their daughter was to get a "well settled life" . No career or medal could give her that. Only I was amidst the most difficult situation of my life. I really needed a beer in that moment but unfortunately our family values would not even allow me that. Hence, in my clear sobriety I listened to my heart which said I wanted to marry this guy and make a family with him. After a big fat Indian wedding, I was to put my papers down . I was to bid adeau to my office cabin, my laptop without which I couldn't imagine my life once, my work memo on the wall of my cabin and my salary account which I thought I would never have to close. Well ,I was stepping towards the "well settled life" so I shouldn't have been worried, isn't it?
Then came the day, when I was finally at the airport taking my first international flight marking my third sacrifice or compromise. I was saying good bye to my place, where I had grown up and loved so dearly in spite of all the little difficulties. I was saying goodbye to my family and friends, my parents and my new found in-laws with whom I had hardly got any time to spend. And of course the aunt I hardly knew from the Rice Ceremony. Well, to top it all, I was travelling alone because my husband couldn't get enough leaves to stay in the country till I got my visa done. There I was, bundled with expectations that I was now going to take care of my husband and build a home. All beacuse I was the wife. My Java training in the MNC I worked for unfortunately did not include cooking lessons. So ,with zero training and full trust of my parents in-law I was about to enter the hotspot of a home maker. I was an H4 .
The first few months were spend realising our "well settled life" was not so well settled after all. Besides the valued status of H1B and the highest privilege of being able to live in California, U.S.A, my husband was almost a broke. His salary clearly ignored the fact that he now had a "dependent wife" with him. His mails requesting a raise continued to be ignored as well. This was the time I missed my salary account for the first time. My parents would say, necessity is our greatest teacher. This taught me to make my fourth sacrifice. I worked a double shift without pay to cook, clean and wash under limited resources. Without a complaint but with lots of burns and cuts all over my hands. And before I knew it I had sacrificed my shopping sprees, fast food habits and new shoe obsessions. I would often search for my credit card unmindfuly in my purse while paying for the groceries . Then I would suddenly remember, all I could carry was cash that my husband would provide me every month after a lot of calculations. I was not eligible for a bank account or a credit card. I was an H4.
Well, after a long day's work, around midnight, when my husband would still be busy in offshore calls, I would really miss my boyfriend and all our moments together. Only it would be the same man as my husband. Slowly my thoughts would drift from what to cook for dinner the next day to my new found hobby of charcoal painting. I would think of how wonderful it would be if I could take some classes on it. I would search the websites for an affordable school and call them for admissions first thing in the morning. The first thing they would ask me would be my Social Security number and I would explain, I am an H4. A couple of hours of call transfers to various departments would give me the final word, that the only way for me would be changing my visa status to F1 ( student visa) and pay as a foreign student. This would increase the fees by five times and thus would become unaffordable. And there I would make my Nth sacrifice. Sacrificing my dreams. I would vow never to dream again. After all I am an H4.
An H4. Not just a letter and a number. A life of sacrifices and compromises of a human being reduced to nothing more than the shadow of her spouse. A person who has for long stopped living and dreaming. Often shedding a tear or two clasping tight against her chest, her "useless shiny medal" with both her hands ,now covered with cuts and burns.
Now if another person takes the outrageously risky decision of marrying this person and accompanying him/her to the States, she/he gets the most blessed wedding gift of a life long vacation called H4 type visa. If you are a wife accompanying your husband, general reactions of your well wishers would be, " Lucky girl she is, I wish our daughter also gets such a well settled life". The famous "Well settled life". The ultimate Aim of any common person making an honest living. But unfortunately if you are a husband accompanying your wife on a H4 visa status, may God help you.
If you are stamped with the infamous "H4" type of visa, it does not give you the permission to work in the States. Well, that's the shortest way of describing it. A few more details would be, you will have no Social Security Number. Hence, you can't get a separate bank account, you can't get admission to an educational institution, you can't issue a credit card on your name, you can't get a mobile connection on your name etc. The " you can't " list will continue till my next post if I were to describe it all. So, basically you are a shadow of your spouse. You should not expect to be more than that unless your spouse is lucky enough to be working with a L1 visa ( learning visa) or unless your spouse hits a jackpot of getting a Green Card ( permanent work permit in the States) on the process and a i140 right around the corner. The reason being, an i140 of your spouse would bestow upon you a hypnotic light of hope called "EAD" ( work permit for a H4 type visa holder). And you would lead a happier life, no more a shadow of your spouse, but now a bright reflection of him/her on a marble floor.
Now ,that is just about your "visa status", quite justified under the eyes of law of the most powerful democracy of the world, which has every right to protect the rights of its citizens. But what about your rights as a human being? How exactly should you expect your perfect "well settled life" to be? And that's the tricky question. Well, I can only describe mine. So here goes.
I am an Indian woman belonging to a well educated middle class family from the City of Joy, Kolkata. Well, not so joyful as far as its educational system is concerned. It's a rat race here. If you slow down or try to traverse a different route than "everyone else" then you are OUT. And OUT would mean, OUT of the good books of your teachers, OUT of the hopes and dreams of your hard working parents, OUT of the cool group of the more "Successful " friends. These friends would compose the "everyone else" blessed cult that you need to follow . And sometimes it's the dreadful OUT, of holding on to the wish of staying alive. With 73% higher rates of student suicide cases than any other developing nations, this is one of the sad realities of my country. Well, If you are not a doctor or an engineer you are even OUT of the last rack of a matrimonial office! So basically, You are nowhere. Hence, that was the driving force behind my aspirations of becoming an Engineer. A small insignificant detail being, I was one of the fortunate Engineers to receive my Bachelors of Technology degree certificate from the then honorary Governor of West Bengal, Mr. Gopal Krishna Gandhi. The ceremony gave me a useless shiny medal for being the highest scorer of the State and the much needed graduation certificate that would define my life. The shiny thing was something which none of the employers cared about. And the piece of paper was my license of leading a "successful" life like " everyone else ". Eventually,I started my dazzlingly mundane work life as an IT professional in a renowned MNC of India. With my hopes of persuing higher studies being shattered and my title of being a topper not aiding much to convince my parents, I too was one of the million "non IT" Software Engineer. My subject ( Biomedical Engineering) was inadequate in providing enough conveniences and packages as IT did.Hence,I made the first sacrifice or compromise of my life. I followed the crowd instead of pursuing my dreams.
The Earth continued rotating on its axis at 37 degrees tilt as days passed and She kept revolving around the Sun on her elliptical orbit as years passed. Thankfully I was quick in learning, relearning and delearning. Hence, I went on climbing the steps in my career with ease. But Oops! I am a woman and now came the time I needed to get married. Atleast according to an aunt whom I hardly knew. And yes, her opinion mattered. It was the "Rice Ceremony " of her grandchild where we were invited. They had invited "everyone " they knew, and even some they hardly knew. The aunt was kind enough to find time to discuss the future of someone's daughter whom she hardly knew. After all it was her social duty to bring marriage proposals for a "not so close" relative's daughter (me) while changing the diaper of the baby. Well, it wasn't the baby's fault, he had eaten rice for the first time. The whole event rang a bell in my parent's head. With this let me lead you towards another little detail of my life.
Well, along with the "useless shiny medal" and the "significant degree certificate" I had inherited another important thing from my college life. My boyfriend. A place I would find peace and moments of almost forgetting the rat race. He too was following the enlightened path lead by Mr."Everyone else " and was a Software Engineer. He was working in another renowned MNC of India but located in a different state miles away from me. We would not be blessed with more than one day of meeting each other in a whole year. Thanks to the hardly known aunt from the Rice ceremony, I seeked an opportunity of raising the topic to my parents.
It was not that they were unaware of my relationship. Before saying a "Yes" to my boyfriend I had first introduced him to my parents to seek their permission. Well, that's the only way you can keep a boyfriend in India. Introducing him to your parents, proving him capable of providing you a " well settled life" in the future and of course, belonging to the same caste and community. My boyfriend being a Computer Engineer on the first place checked all the boxes of the list. Lucky me. So now came the time when the parents would think of talking to each other. After a lot of confusion and expectations of which side should make the proposal first, they would actually meet up and set a date.
After a full year of introducing each other's families, friends and neighbors and seeking acceptance of everyone including the hardly known aunt from the Rice ceremony, we had a date. 29th of November,2013. With a full nod from most of the people and a partial nod from few who were not sure because of the numerological aspect of the date, it was at last a green signal. Well, here came the time I was to make my second sacrifice or compromise. My boyfriend who was now my fiance got the golden opportunity of being deported on-site to the States and achieved the ultimate aim of every IT professional. It is called the "H1B" status. My would be parents-in-law declared me lucky for their family and my parents were ecstatic as the only unchecked box on their list was now checked. Finally their daughter was to get a "well settled life" . No career or medal could give her that. Only I was amidst the most difficult situation of my life. I really needed a beer in that moment but unfortunately our family values would not even allow me that. Hence, in my clear sobriety I listened to my heart which said I wanted to marry this guy and make a family with him. After a big fat Indian wedding, I was to put my papers down . I was to bid adeau to my office cabin, my laptop without which I couldn't imagine my life once, my work memo on the wall of my cabin and my salary account which I thought I would never have to close. Well ,I was stepping towards the "well settled life" so I shouldn't have been worried, isn't it?
Then came the day, when I was finally at the airport taking my first international flight marking my third sacrifice or compromise. I was saying good bye to my place, where I had grown up and loved so dearly in spite of all the little difficulties. I was saying goodbye to my family and friends, my parents and my new found in-laws with whom I had hardly got any time to spend. And of course the aunt I hardly knew from the Rice Ceremony. Well, to top it all, I was travelling alone because my husband couldn't get enough leaves to stay in the country till I got my visa done. There I was, bundled with expectations that I was now going to take care of my husband and build a home. All beacuse I was the wife. My Java training in the MNC I worked for unfortunately did not include cooking lessons. So ,with zero training and full trust of my parents in-law I was about to enter the hotspot of a home maker. I was an H4 .
The first few months were spend realising our "well settled life" was not so well settled after all. Besides the valued status of H1B and the highest privilege of being able to live in California, U.S.A, my husband was almost a broke. His salary clearly ignored the fact that he now had a "dependent wife" with him. His mails requesting a raise continued to be ignored as well. This was the time I missed my salary account for the first time. My parents would say, necessity is our greatest teacher. This taught me to make my fourth sacrifice. I worked a double shift without pay to cook, clean and wash under limited resources. Without a complaint but with lots of burns and cuts all over my hands. And before I knew it I had sacrificed my shopping sprees, fast food habits and new shoe obsessions. I would often search for my credit card unmindfuly in my purse while paying for the groceries . Then I would suddenly remember, all I could carry was cash that my husband would provide me every month after a lot of calculations. I was not eligible for a bank account or a credit card. I was an H4.
Well, after a long day's work, around midnight, when my husband would still be busy in offshore calls, I would really miss my boyfriend and all our moments together. Only it would be the same man as my husband. Slowly my thoughts would drift from what to cook for dinner the next day to my new found hobby of charcoal painting. I would think of how wonderful it would be if I could take some classes on it. I would search the websites for an affordable school and call them for admissions first thing in the morning. The first thing they would ask me would be my Social Security number and I would explain, I am an H4. A couple of hours of call transfers to various departments would give me the final word, that the only way for me would be changing my visa status to F1 ( student visa) and pay as a foreign student. This would increase the fees by five times and thus would become unaffordable. And there I would make my Nth sacrifice. Sacrificing my dreams. I would vow never to dream again. After all I am an H4.
An H4. Not just a letter and a number. A life of sacrifices and compromises of a human being reduced to nothing more than the shadow of her spouse. A person who has for long stopped living and dreaming. Often shedding a tear or two clasping tight against her chest, her "useless shiny medal" with both her hands ,now covered with cuts and burns.
No comments:
Post a Comment