“It’s good to have a sidekick like Anju,” Raag says and pulls me back from my reverie. “On a serious note, maybe you can try to apologize to your professor.”
“My dear boyfriend…not happening! Professor Rawal does not want to talk to me at all. He deliberately kicked me out of the devil’s pit, pointing his filthy pen at me!” I pour my angst out in every single word and take a deep calming breath.
“Huh…” Raag exhales. “Calm down, champ! Why not talk to the dean?” He says this like it’s a piece of cake. Sitting in front of the dean is a thought too terrifying. Not that he has a reputation like Professor Rawal, it is just that I try to keep a low profile. Sometimes, it’s easy to pass through if you play invisible. Unfortunately, playing invisible is not an option when Professor Rawal is trying hard to make me the talk of the town.
For some reason, I burst into laughter as if what he said was a joke. “Have you really lost your mind?”
“What’s the big deal?” Raag sounds perplexed. Then without waiting for my response, he explains, “The dean might be able to help you. He doesn’t have a bias like the other professor who doesn’t want to talk to you. You might be able to convince the dean.”
I take a moment to think about his suggestion. Maybe Raag is right. Rather than asking for help from other professors, I should talk directly to the dean and ask him if he is okay to remove my name if I pitched in a few extra assignments.
I answer in agreement. “You have a point!”
“Okay then! Done deal,” Raag says, and like that he finalizes the plan.
Though I am impressed by this idea, I am slightly nervous. But I would still give it a try. After all, this looks like the last lantern on a stormy night.
“Let’s do one thing first,” Raag says.
“Which is…?”
“Try to relax today,” he suggests.
“Yes, I will.”
“Talk to your college dean tomorrow, but always keep one thing in mind—that this whole situation is momentary. Soon, you are going to finish your studies. Your professor wants you to succeed, they want all their students to succeed, and this detain list is probably one of his disciplinary tactics,” Raag says and sounds like an old sage with a white beard and a shiny halo around him. Then adds, “Nothing is forever.”
Confirmed, he is an old sage.
“Thanks, Guru Raag dev!” I utter out loud, calling him an angel, and he chuckles. There is for sure something about him that has a soothing and calming effect on me. When I talk to him, it feels as if everything will be all right, the missing pieces of the puzzle will fall into their place.
Now I gaze at the stars and let out a relaxing breath. Raag’s idea blinks in my dark, gloomy mind like the stars in this dark sky.
“When is the last day of your finals?” Raag interrupts my stargazing.
“January fifteen,” I utter out in an instant. There is a fine print of that date on my brain. It’s a nirvana day. No more college bus, no more bunks, no more detain list, and no more exams. Most importantly, no more Rawal! I get up out of excitement and start pacing on the balcony.
“January fifteen…” Raag repeats, and there is silence from his side again, the only sound heard is the quick keyboard clicks.
“You know, after that, I have my internship until the end of June and then…”
“Then what, Ms. Bhatt?” Raag asks playfully.
“Then I am all yours!” I announce, and though we have no specific plans of what, when, and how on our togetherness, the thought makes me shift in my chair with delight, and I am all smiles.
Raag exhales and says, “I like the ring of that, Ms. Bhatt. It feels like a long time, though.” Yes, it’s not just me who is waiting in vain. It makes the two of us.
Now that my brain has freed up some space for processing, inquisitively, I ask, “By the way, if I get jailed, they won’t give me a visa?”
“No…visas? Not any visa!” he says. “No criminal records!”
“Hah…too bad!” I try to sound disappointed. “So, I can’t pursue any of my killing plans!”
“None!”
I sigh humorously. “Would I need an H4 visa to get there?” I ask since he occasionally mentioned it, but we never discussed it at length. It never grabbed my attention either, since in arranged marriages, we get married first and figure out all the mundane problems such as career, kids, home, and a few others later. However, in my case, we fell in love! But mundane problems still stand. Today Anju’s announcement on my future has shaken my thought process, and it sounds like the right opportunity to acquire some insight.
“The fastest way is to get the H4 visa and come as a dependent,” Raag says, breaking my trail of thoughts.
“Dependent?” I ask, surprised. Then I recall what he said earlier. I was in a dreamland when he was talking about visas. “Oh, yes…I remember that you mentioned something like that.”
“Yeah…H4 is a spouse visa. You can come here, but you cannot work.”
“Not work!” I regret my tone. He isn’t the one who established that rule, after all.
“Yeah.”
“I’m just twenty.”
“I am aware of that. You recently celebrated your birthday by eating panipuri.” Raag reminds me of my little celebration with my sister on my twentieth birthday. He was stupefied finding that my family is one of a kind who never celebrates birthdays. My mother cooks our favorite food item, and that’s about how far the celebration goes.
“Still with me?” Raag asks, bringing me back.
“Huh…we will see how we celebrate my birthday when we are together,” I say and don’t give him a chance to reply to that. “Don’t you think it’s unfair not to allow me to work?” I argue like a child, getting back to the point.
“Well, you are not the only person, Mayu! They have thousands of others, just like you.”
“I am the last of my species!” I exclaim.
“That you are,” Raag says, and the chuckles follow.
“What if someone is willing to work? Is there a way to not be dependent and still be there?”
“You could try for an H1B visa. Like I did. For that, you need an employer who files that visa for you. If you get into the lottery, and everything goes smoothly, you start working. They accept the applications around April, and once the process is done, you could start as soon as October.”
“Wait a minute! Lottery?”
“Ah…yes. Each country has a quota, and if they receive applications exceeding that quota, they pick applications based on a lottery.”
“God! It doesn’t only sound like a virus, it even feels like one!” I grumble in annoyance.
“Well, what would you like to do? Be dependent? Or would you like the infection of this highly contagious virus? They poke you with a tiny needle, and you are hooked!”
In between laughter, I say, “I can’t get my head around being dependent at twenty. But I would love to be with you. H1B…well, I told you my thoughts about the virus!”
“We have time,” Raag pauses. “We could figure out once you finish your studies.”
I wonder about the complexities of living in a foreign country, looking at the saptarishi, and inwardly I tell them, You folks are lucky to travel around the globe without any type of visa. While you sit there in your quiet contemplation, the mighty earth is rapidly changing.