“Enough of beer!” I said. “Let’s switch over to scotch.”
At seven o’clock, people began to arrive, and the party started. Dr. Snyder and his wife showed up, and we all sat down wherever we could find a spot while Dr. Snyder relayed what happened four hours earlier.
“You should have seen the look on his face when I said ‘Damn, Kris!’” Dr. Snyder laughed. “And when I slammed my hand on the table and said, ‘Put your damn formula on the board,’ he looked like he wanted to run out of the room!”
We all laughed, and what had seemed so awful to me hours earlier now seemed like a big joke. Dr. Snyder took a swig of beer and said, “Kris, I just wanted to see the formula, so we could get it over quickly and come to your party.”
Graduation was set for August 25, and up until then, Sewa and I threw small parties with a few friends, enjoying food, beer, whisky, and good conversation. Everyone teased me about Maelie because, by that time, they knew she was the one who’d announced the engagement. “Oooo, Kris, is in love,” they said. I kept quiet, careful not to share my true feelings. Let us see what will happen, I thought.
The morning of August 25, to my pleasant surprise, Billo arrived with her three-year-old son, Yusuf. While I’d invited her to come, I didn’t think she would travel all this way. Together, we went downtown to the Knoxville Civic Auditorium and Coliseum where we met Mrs. Olsen, her sister, and Maelie. When Billo heard that Maelie and I were engaged, she raised her eyebrows. Later, she pulled me aside. “Kris, what is going on? You did not tell me this.” Billo wanted to know all about Maelie, but I told her I would explain later. “For now, just enjoy my graduation,” I said.
When the time came, I sat near the back with the College of Engineering grad students. While waiting for the ceremony to start, I could not help thinking of my parents. I missed them tremendously, and seeing all the parents and relatives at the graduation made the absence of mine only more noticeable. These parents had come to witness their sons or daughters receive their degrees and share the joy of the occasion, along with many relatives. My parents did not have the luxury to travel so far.
The ceremony began exactly at 11:00 a.m. As the president of the university gave his speech, I flipped through the program booklet, gratified to see my name printed with the other engineering graduates. I would save the booklet and send it to my parents. They would be proud and would have something to show our relatives, friends, and the whole village.
When it was my turn to walk across the stage, a sense of anticipation and excitement filled me. The faculty members flashed me wide smiles and shook my hand, saying “Congratulations.” It was one of the biggest moments of my life, to stand on the stage and receive my long-awaited, hard-earned master’s of science degree in industrial engineering, which I’d paid for with my sweat and tears. All the nights I’d fretted and cried, buried my head in books and notes, and now I could finally say, “I did it.”
Clutching my diploma, I walked back to my seat, again, wishing with all my heart that my parents could be there. I felt tears come to my eyes as I watched the rest of the ceremony. I had succeeded. I had not embarrassed my parents, and now I could go back to India.
After the ceremony, I walked back to Sewa, Billo, and the others, crying loudly with tears flowing down my cheeks. Sewa and Billo understood I was missing my parents, and they hugged me, saying, “It’s okay. You made it. Congratulations!”
Mrs. Olsen, her sister, and Maelie congratulated me, and Mrs. Olsen held me close. “I’m proud of you, Kris,” she said, her eyes crinkling. Maelie looked at me shyly, kissed her index finger and pointed it toward me. She did not like to kiss or hug in public.
As we walked to our cars, I looked up at the sky and said to my parents, “Here it is, what we all have been waiting for. Thank you for all your prayers and faith in me.”
Mrs. Olsen, her sister, and Maelie drove back to Franklin, and Billo drove to Frankfurt, Kentucky, to visit friends, after a late lunch, leaving only Sewa and me to celebrate.
As soon as I returned to Nashville, I wrote my parents a letter, saying, “You all will be glad to know that I have received my master’s degree due to your blessings and prayers. Mother, thank you for all your support, encouragement, and blessings.” I laughed to myself as I remembered the previous letters I’d written, praising my mother so much that my brother wrote back angrily, saying, “Why don’t you ever say much about me?”
My parents replied immediately. “We are very proud of you and glad you have achieved this. But Krishan, it is all your hard work. You have done a good job. And you have made our name shine in the US. To share our happiness, we distributed sweets to the Malaudh residents, especially to the poor.” Much later, I learned that the poor people would come to my mother and say blessings—“Your son Krishan has succeeded in Amrika and will come soon.” Their words made her happy, and she would feed them snacks.
My mother only wanted to know one thing. When would I be coming back? Sadly, I could not give a definite answer. I needed more work experience in the US before I would return. In
