රට යන පාර

My daughter sends pictures from her hostel in Melbourne, but I think of the neighbor's son who went to Dubai on a 'hospitality' visa and ended up slaving in a kitchen. My old Singer hums while I stitch his mother's saree borders back together — one thread at a time, we mend what the agents break. Kaashta pattide, but we manage.

आज कलेजको assignment सकाएर ममीको सहयोग गर्दा मनमा एउटा कुरा आयो – त्यो फिल्म सिरिज हेर्न त कहिल्यै भ्याइन, तर हाम्रो स्टलको स्टीमरको पहिलो फुस्स आवाज सुन्दा त्यस्तै रोमाञ्चक लाग्छ। दाइले भन्थे, कोरियामा काम गर्न जाँदा मासिक पैसा राम्रै हुन्छ, तर ममीले भन्नुहुन्छ "घरको मःमको स्वाद बिर्सनु हुँदैन।" त्यो फिल्मको कथा जस्तै, हामी पनि आफ्नो सानो ठाउँमा नयाँ सपना बुन्न सक्छौं – तर एजेन्टलाई पत्याउनुभन्दा आफ्नै छिमेकीलाई सोध्नु ठिक, किनकि हामीले पहिला धेरैलाई ठगिएको देखेका छौं।

Watching the trailer for *The Odyssey* made me think of those long night shifts when you’re just walking and walking down the same corridor, like a little astronaut in a blue uniform. But my real journey is saving for Didi’s engineering fees—each month is a small landing on a new planet. Achha, I’ll stick to my chai and the rain on the gulmohar; space can wait.

Was just reading an old field guide on *Lycopodium* while waiting for the rain to stop — the spine is held together with medical tape, but the distribution maps are still solid. I see the same pattern with these overseas job ads: big promises, no verifiable data. My cousin in Shillong paid an agent 80,000 rupees for a "guaranteed" factory job in Japan, only to find the visa was a tourist permit. If the agency won't show you the actual employment contract in writing, the way a good botanical key shows you the spore arrangement, then better to stay home and mend the homestay roof.

Umar Khalid ke naam se toh mujhe apne pados ke Chaudhary ji ka beta yaad aa gaya—jo Panipat college mein padhne gaya tha, phir wahan kisi rally mein fas gaya, maa-baap ne ghar bula liya. Ab woh ghar par baitha hai, computer course ka form nahi bharta. Main sochta hoon, kisi bhi ladke ke saath aisa ho, toh uske gharwalon ki fikar ka koi hisaab nahi hota. Yeh sab bade

The Ministry of Education rolls out another grand plan for 'skill development,' but has anyone asked the vegetable garden kids what

हाँ, भाई, ये सब सुनता हूँ — कोरिया, जापान, दुबई का राग। मेरे गाँव के बच्चे भी निकल गए, पैसे तो भेज रहे हैं, पर उनकी माँ कहती है बेटा आठ साल में एक बार आया। अपनी दुकान में एक पुरानी किताब ठीक करता हूँ, जिसके पन्ने बारिश से भीग गए थे — लगता है किसी की उम्मीद भी ऐसे ही सूखती होगी, धूप में पसर के। अर्थशास्त्र का कोठा नहीं समझता, पर ये जानता हूँ: जिसका कंधा सबसे कमजोर हो, उसी पर हर बोझ पहले गिरता है।

अभिजीत दीपके की बात सुन के याद आया, पिछले साल जब मैं अपने गाँव के एक बच्चे को सरकारी स्कूल की नौकरी का फॉर्म भरवा रहा था तो उसके बाप ने कहा, "सर, अब तो पीट परीक्षा को कोई पूछता नहीं, डायरेक्ट एजेंट ले जाते हैं दुबई।" उसने अपना घर बेच डाला था। अब वो बच्चा कंटेनर में बंद है, और बाप की दवा का पैसा भी नहीं बचा। हम सरकारी बाबूओं को शक करने की आदत होती है हर मोहर पर — पर फिर भी हम रोज़ स्कूल खोलते हैं, पढ़ाते हैं, यह सोचते हुए कि शायद किसी दिन एक बच्चा इंटरव्यू से उतर के आए और कहे, "सर, समझ गया, सोचना पहले आता है।

Bas, yesterday at the canal I saw Ramu’s son with a fresh suitcase—he sold his buffalo for a "dream job" in some Con City scheme. My dahlia pots are finally blooming, but my heart sinks when I think how many lads lose their roof money chasing these agents. Rules and fairness, haan ji—if a middleman can't show you the real office on Google Maps, just walk away. Save your rupees for the leaking roof, not for a fancy promise with no address. P

ఈ మధ్య రాత్రి షిఫ్టులో మెషిన్ ఆపి, టీ తాగుతూ యూరప్ వెళ్ళిన వాళ్ళ కబుర్లు వింటే నాకు ఒక సంగతి తెలిసింది — కేబుల్ టైస్ వేసినట్టు ఒకర్నొకరు కలుపుకునే గుంపు అక్కడా లేదు. మా ఫ్యాక్టరీ యార్డులో మైనాలు రొట్టె ముక్క కోసం కొట్టుకుంటాయి, కానీ ఆ విదేశీ కంపెనీల్లో తిండి కంటే కూడా గంటల లెక్క ముందుంటుందట. నా చెల్లెలికి టీచర్ ట్రైనింగ్ పూర్తి చేయించాలి, అందుకే ఇక్కడే ఉంటున్నా — ప్రతి సంవత్సరం ఎజెంట్లు ఊర్లో చెప్పే కథలు విన్నాను

Bhaiyya, yeh Umar Khalid ka case—main subah 5 baje shift khatam karke chai peete hue sochta hoon, jab Patna ki sadak pe pichhle saal ki baarish ka paani abhi tak khada hai. Aadmi ko saboot chahiye, na ki slogans—jaise mere scooter engine ka loan utarne se pehle monsoon aaya, toh pura raat ka route sadak pe beech mein ruk jaata hai. Jab tak yeh log bata na dein ki isse kya fayda hua gaon ke us budhe ko jiska beta Saudi mein visa liye do sa

సోమవారం నుంచి ఆఫీస్ దగ్గర ఇరానీ టీ దుకాణంలో కేబ్ డ్రైవర్ల చర్చ విన్నాను, ఒక యువకుడు ఏజెంట్ వద్ద నాలుగు లక్షలు ఇచ్చి వీసా కోసం ఎదురు చూస్తున్నాడు. మనం ఇలాంటి కాంత్రాక్ట్ పనులు కూడా సహకారంగా నమోదు చేసుకోవచ్చా? పరాయి దేశం వెళ్లే ఆశకంటె మన ఊళ్ళో నమ్మకమైన రోజీ ఎప్పుడు రాబోతుందని అనిపిస్తుంది. మీరు ఎలా అనుకుంటారు?

Ah, watching all these young ones preparing to go abroad, I remember repairing old radios—always easier to fix what’s already here than to understand a new circuit board. But who am I to talk? My own nephew left after paying an agent lakhs, only to sit swalpa idle in Dubai for three months before real work came. When the buses aren’t here yet, I swing and think: the village misses its batsmen, and some mother is missing her son.

Still see my father's signature on that loan paper, only. Every month same date. So I think, if a man must risk his small piece of land just to get a steering wheel, what about those with no land at all? These agencies promise visas, but who checks if the promise breaks a family's back?

I stitch school uniforms for a chokro whose father works in Dubai—he sends money regular, but the boy’s mother tells me he hasn’t seen his son smile in two years. That’s the real price, re, not the agent fees they show you on paper.

अरे भाई, ये परदेस जाने की बात सुन के मन में डर लागे। हम तो यहीं फैक्टरी में पेंच कसते-कसते दिन गुज़ार देते हैं, पापा के घुटनों का दर्द देख के सोचते हैं कि कोई सरकार होती जो हमको यहीं काम देती, तो काहे कोई दूर देश जाए? मैंने सुना है कि कोरिया जाने वालों को ठग लेते हैं एजेंट, हमारे पड़ोस के लालू भैया ने अपनी जमीन बेचके डेढ़ लाख दिए, फिर visa नहीं मिला — अब वो रेलव

Arre beta Vaibhav Sooryavanshi, waah! Watching him on TV this morning while doing chai on terrace — reminded me of my younger days when we used to put Rekha ji’s photos on salon wall. This boy has that same star sparkle, haan! My old clients come in and say, "Dadima, aapka salon kaafi filmy hai," and I just laugh—if only they knew how many times I’ve mixed hair color wrong because I was humming his songs! But one thing I know: real beauty comes from hard work, not just good looks. Like my chair—started with one, now four, but only because I didn't run to committees for permission; I just did my job right and let customers decide.

हाम्रो ग्याङटकमा पनि विदेश जाने होड चलेको छ, तर म त भन्दिन्छु—ठाउँको स्वाद र पसलको ग्राहक कहिल्यै बदलिँदैन भन्ने कुरा तथ्यले देखाउँदैन। पोहोर साल झापाको एक साथीले कोरियाको एजेन्टलाई तीस हजार दिएर धोका खाएको मेरै आँखाले देखेको हुँ। केहीले चाहिँ साँच्चिकै राम्रो कमाएर ब्याजको पसल खोलेको पनि छ, तर त्यो मौका लिनुअघि एजेन्टको रजिस्ट्रेशन नम्बर र अनुबन्धको कागज जाँच नगरी एक पैसा नदिनू। मेरो सानो भुटुवाको स्टल चलाउनलाई पनि हामी आफैंले नियम र पारदर्शिता राखेका छौँ—बाटोमा हिड्दा मात्र भरोसा हुन्छ

छोट्या दुकानातल्या दिवसांमध्ये, "XXX"चा धुमधडाका कितीतरी दूर वाटतो. पण एजंट पटवणारे "गारंटी"चे पोस्टर्स बस स्टॉपवर चिकटवलेले बघितले की कळतं, हा चित्रपट काही कल्पनेतला नाही—त्याच्यावरच काही भावांची सगळी बचत बुडायची तयारी आहे.

My neighbour spent two lakhs on an agent promising a factory job in Japan — now he’s back in the chai stall, and the damp patch on my wall has grown wider than his return ticket ever got him. All these big promises, but the ones who pay