Paru Tales – The Great Indian Visa Circus

 A few years back, Paru called me early one morning, asking me to accompany her to Gemini Flyover. It was barely 6 a.m., and I was annoyed by her urgency. She insisted that we must go there to take pictures of people sleeping outside the U.S. Consulate.

I dismissed her, saying, “What’s new about that?”

Paru hated the idea of people queuing up all night for visas, leaving the country with good talents, always glorifying the West. She saw it as desperation.

We all know people unnecessarily line up outside hours before their appointments, creating public inconvenience. The embassy clearly instructs applicants to arrive just 15 minutes before their slot. Yet, people wait overnight. The process itself is rigorous, it depends on the visa category, your company, your skills, your engineering or IT degree, and of course, your English fluency.

Paru was researching the economy, migration, and the “visa phenomenon.” She always felt Indians were too desperate to go abroad in search of dollars and euros. I argued, “There’s nothing wrong. Everyone wants to grow in life. This is an honest way.” But Paru disagreed.

As part of her research, she even wrote a big article titled “The Great Visa Circus.” I was uncomfortable, after all, I was one of those aspirants dreaming of opportunities abroad. But Paru saw it as exploitation and even called it unpatriotic.

She believed we were draining India of its resources. I countered that wasn’t true, India is never short of talent. In fact, migrants contribute huge remittances, fuel our banks and real estate, and fill genuine talent needs in the global market. Indians are hardworking, economical, and committed professionals.

Despite all her criticism, Paru’s “Visa Circus” began with Season 1. She wanted to go abroad, particularly to the United States. Not for money, but out of curiosity. She wanted a firsthand taste of NRI life.

She put herself and her family through the same process she once mocked, the paperwork, project evaluations, packing, shopping, traveling. And, of course, the nervous wait.

When her visa came through, she called me excitedly. She spoke about how professional the embassy staff were, how organized and secure everything was, how the library was so enriched. She admitted it didn’t even feel like “India inside India.” I was happy for her, her myths were breaking, and her dreams were coming true.

Finally, one summer morning, she flew to the U.S. with her family. Her first emails were full of excitement, about weekend trips, professional clients, pollution-free freeways, and the cultural experience.

And then reality struck.

Settling issues piled up. Her kids struggled with separate bedrooms, they bought only secondhand goods, got cheated on their first car, and hunted for discounts and coupons. She craved temples, libraries, and genuine friends. Instead, she found many NRIs avoided fellow Indians, except those trying to sell Amway or MLM products in Walmart parking lots!

After three months, she sent her husband and children back to India, unable to balance it all. A few more months later, she too returned. She cried about losing her promotion and hike that year because of her onsite stint.

I just smiled.

Soon came her second opportunity, this time a Business Visa. She was thrilled she could travel short-term, prove her skills, and not disturb her family life. She worked hard in the U.S., contributed significantly to her project, but external factors led to its cancellation. She returned, heartbroken, and even fell sick for a month.

Next came an L1 Visa. This time, she was determined. I still remember her child hugging her legs and crying at the airport. Paru convinced herself it was all for a better future.

But soon, calls came, her children were struggling. One was sick, the other failing in school. Torn between career and family, she returned to India.

She decided to stay grounded. But her valid visa and U.S. experience left her “benched” in India by her employer, awaiting onsite assignments. Instead of wasting time, she pursued certifications. The day she got her coveted one, life threw her onto the rollercoaster again, this time, for a glamorous, long ride abroad.

She enjoyed nearly two years of global experience before uncertainty hit. With U.S. presidential elections focusing on “American jobs,” visas tightened, projects slowed, and her Season 5 dreams crumbled.

Paru grew increasingly frustrated. She felt rejected not for her abilities, but for not being an “engineering grad”, despite her track record. She worried about her children’s disrupted schooling and questioned the whole circus.

Finally, she decided she no longer wanted others controlling her life. No more employers, no more fake promises, no more dependency. She wanted to take charge.

Paru, at heart, is a hardworking, passionate woman. The day she stops trying to please everyone and chooses only what is close to her heart, she will truly be free.

Maybe the Visa Circus will always exist. But for Paru, the show must end.

The world today feels like a circus tent, with ringmasters controlling the show. But the moment you take control of your own life, you step out of the circus.