A man struggling to spell out his depressing thoughts, asked me, “You know the most painful thing can that happen to anyone?” I replied, “There are so many.” With his distinct smile, he rephrased his question, “I am talking about the point we all went through in our life.”
I had no clue what he was talking about. I was baffled. Then, he explained his state to me, I guffawed. But on the way back to my home, I was trying to contemplate what Amit had shared with me. I was flabbergasted that such a successful man like my friend was feeling the same pain that I have. On reaching home, I made my mind for sharing the thoughts of Amit with everyone.
Migration itself is a very hurtful word and it can be a terrible experience for a small-town person to migrate to a big city. The truth is that this problem came across to a small-town man. People in big cities are immune to this situation. They won’t understand the grief of leaving home. They won’t recognise the agony of missing the birthplace. Amit shared the same thought with me that day. He has been quite positive through all these years, that one day he will go back to his town. He forgot that there is no returning door once you enter here.
An ordinary boy of an average household used to live in Barabanki, a small town near Lucknow which is hard to find on google. His father was a government employee and his mother was a housemaker, like any middle-class family in India. It was a time when the government employees had a meagre income. Simple, gentle, and confident, Amit never involved himself in any mischievous activity. However, being a middle child, he felt left out from his other siblings.
Amit never topped in the class, nor did he ever fail in his studies. He was an average student with the aspiration to do something in life. The frail financial condition couldn’t put the shackles on his dream. The condition of Amit was not unique; many of his friends were even poorer than him.
Being a student at a rural school, most of his classmates came from similar backgrounds. But not all his classmates shared the same passion as Amit. Despite all challenges, Amit was adamant about achieving something. He worked hard and finally topped in his senior secondary exams and took admission to a prestigious college in Delhi. On completing his higher studies, he joined a big MNC abroad.
Now, after successfully working for 15 years abroad, Amit was not happy. He was a stranger to this new city. This city gave him the success he always strived for but took away his peace and joy. Maybe he is successful, but no one is there to share his joy with him. Amit left his town in the hope that he would come back one day, but he couldn’t.
Migration is painful for everyone; the modern corporate structure is designed in such a way that we all have to go through this tormented journey. Asymmetrical development of some selected cities, impoverished education and the paucity of employment forces small-town inhabitants to leave their homes. Only equal development of cities and towns can solve this problem.
I shared this grief because I had seen the pain in the eyes of Amit and heard his heartache. I perceived myself in him that day and his tale is not limited, but millions of people share the same anguish alike. In search of fruits, we all lost our roots. Every success has its price and we never realise, but recognise it later.