B-1H by P Kay

Sunday, May 30, 2030. The Majestic Air India flight was landing on the plush runway at Mumbai International Airport. Paul gathered his carry-on bag and made his way towards the Airport exit. Out of nowhere, a robot came and delivered his checked-in baggage on an automated trolley. He got out of the airport and headed for the taxi stand. He could use an automated cab, but that was a good Rs10 more expensive. 10 bucks was a lot of money for them, equivalent to 500 US dollars.

He was coming back to India from US after a 2 weeks’ vacation. The journey from New York to Mumbai was short and pleasant. He relished being with his parents even though it was only for a short while. He had tried his best to get one more week’s vacation, but his Manager would have none of it.

He did some maths on his savings for the past one year and he wasn’t happy about it. He was determined to save every rupee this time. That way he would be able to make enough money to buy a home in Andheri within the next two years

He settled into the cab. His two bedroom flat was 45 min away from the Airport. The rent was a little expensive but it was located close to his office, so he saved money on the gasoline.

The cab pulled over in front of his flat. His roommate, John, came out waving his hand. “How are you, maccha?”, he asked. “I am great”, Paul replied. Maccha was one of those Indian slangs that foreigners picked up. It was the equivalent of ‘dude’.

Paul switched on the TV. The Indian prime minister was giving a speech. He caught a bit of it on his way to the shower. The Indian PM was asking America and UK to behave or face the sanctions.

In the shower, Paul thought about his past. He was now 30. He thought that his life had two parts, one before he turned 15 and one after that. His father was the VP of a multinational company. His mother was a doctor. He grew up as the only son of rich parents. He had all comforts in life.

It was immediately after his 15^th birthday that he came home from school, and saw his dad in a very somber mood. He knew immediately that something was wrong. His mom also looked unduly worried. Then, he was told that his father had just lost his job. His entire department was laid off because the functions were outsourced to India. He did not quite understand what that meant. But, his dad had to struggle for a while to find another job, and when he found one, it was much lower-paying that his previous one.

The worse was yet to come. Paul’s mom used to mention frequently that she would never have to face her husband’s fate since a doctor had to be present where the patient was. In other words, a doctor’s job could not be outsourced. She was shocked when she lost her job. They found a way to treat patients remotely using robots, and real-time monitoring, and many doctors lost their jobs. It was harder for his mom to get another job. She ended up working many part-time jobs.

They moved from their cozy home to an apartment. Some of Paul’s friends started studying to get jobs in India, because almost overnight, India had become the place to be in. There was a long line to get the visa to work in India. The visa was called B1-H in memory of the H1-B visas that used to be in vogue for people wanting to work in the US.

Paul had no choice. He had to compete against the best brains in US to become eligible for such a visa. Finally, he did it, and his parents were extremely happy for him. He thought of taking his parents with him to India, but they would be eligible to stay for just 6 months at a time. Getting visas for them was cumbersome as well. So, he made the difficult decision of moving to India by himself, and visiting his parents once in a while.

His company was owned by two Americans who had been settled in India for almost 10 years. They had the Indian Permanent Residency, which was an important step if you needed to settle down in India. His company was processing Paul’s residency, and he knew that he would have to wait for at least 3 years before he could get it.

The ring of his cell phone brought Paul back to the present. It was his dad calling to check if he reached safely. He looked at the clock. It was 10’0 clock. It was time to go to bed. He was scheduled to go to work at 7am in the morning. His work hours were officially 9 to 5, but invariably he worked overtime.

Paul set the alarm for 6 am, and slid into his bed. He again thought about all the good days he had, as a child. He wished his present life was a nightmare, and everything would be back to what it was like when he was a child. He slipped into a deep sleep.