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India's loss

Timeri N. Murari

I HAD a young man working for me. He was sort of a PA/accountant. He was meticulous in everything he did. He was always on time, worked hard and was scrupulously honest. Now, this we know is an extremely rare virtue in India.

If I over paid for anything, he would lecture me on how I could have got it cheaper or dealt with someone better. He also dealt with our bureaucracy on my behalf over those irritating little things that can be created into an epic saga by our babus. When I was away, he would e-mail me a weekly report.

I miss George. Nope, he did not drop dead. I knew all along, as he had told me from the start, that he was dreaming of migrating to Canada. Being selfish, I hoped he would not get there. Yet, at the same time I had to encourage him. Neither he nor any of his family had ever been out of India. So, naturally, he was extremely nervous about this giant step for him. He was of the right age and had the right qualifications for the Canadians to want him. India was not helping him any; he was doing odd jobs be fore he joined me. Nor, I admit, did I pay him a fortune.

One day he showed up beaming. The Canadians had given him his immigration visa. This was in December last, and I advised him to hold on. I had experienced Canadian winters. It would have been a bad introduction for a young Indian used to the heat and hum idity of India. I suggested July.

He was a delightful innocent. He wanted to be prepared for anything and everything. How does one travel on a plane? Did he keep his hand luggage on his lap? Did they serve food or should he take tiffin? What worried him most, of course, was whether he wo uld get a job in Canada. He was willing to do anything, even dig ditches, as his family had got into debt, sending him off as the flag carrier.

He had heard stories of our people going over to work for Indians there and being paid a pittance. I told him to work for a Canadian company which, by law, had to pay a minimum wage. He wanted to know how much that was. I guessed it was around five or si x dollars an hour. He was awed, as he immediately converted it into rupees and arrived at the princely sum of around Rs 250 an hour! So in a week working an eight-hour day he would be earning the staggering sum of Rs 11,000 a week. That was more than he had earned in three months work in India, ever.

I was sad to see him go.

A month ago, I met his father. I asked how George was getting on. Had he survived the plane ride? His father was so excited about his son that he could not talk fast enough.

Toronto was a stunning city. George had a temporary job in a warehouse earning $10 an hour and he could work seven days a week if he wanted. He also had a permanent job lined up. Ten dollars an hour! The father could not even imagine that sum of money. G eorge was making more money in one day than he had made in a month working in India. And he spent only $6 a day on food, as it was so cheap. Canada was a real paradise. It remained light until midnight and George would wander all over the city exploring his new surroundings. In Canada, the father said, the telephone calls were free and so were all the medical expenses.

Everyone was so helpful, the father went on. He was met by the immigration officials and welcomed into Canada. They told him how to be registered, and found him a job too. I imagine this must have surprised George even more. Our bureaucracy is the most u nhelpful in the universe, apart from being rude, arrogant and extremely lethargic.

``Once he has his permanent job,'' the father said, ``he is going to get his sisters over. They were already applying for their Canadian visas. And then when they are all settled there, I will go over. For good,'' he added.

I felt delighted for George and his family. They deserved everything that they would never find in their homeland. George had run around the city on an old motorcycle. I imagined he would soon own a car. He was hard working and astute enough to soon buy his own apartment. Even a house, somewhere in the Toronto suburbs. His father and mother would soon be living there, happily ever after.

The family might just be a speck among the billion Indians, but like most Indians who have left for good, Canada's gain is definitely India's loss. As far as George is concerned.