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My Big Move

Seven years ago my family decided to take a journey, which would forever change us. We would be altering our futures when we decided to move to America and away from India, where our lives had begun. Our family consisted of two brothers and a mother and a father, all of us shared love and compassion for the place where we had grown up. But my entire family had different perspectives on the move at the time: whether it would tarnish our values and traditions or if it would serve as the first step to a long and prosperous life.

The eldest son and my brother, Mohit, was looking at this move as a once in a lifetime opportunity because it would give him the chance to become an excellent surgeon. Over the years he had witnessed the vast difference that a western education can provide through some of his relatives that lived in Europe and America. He hoped that the skills acquired by him would help change his own homeland for the better as he would utilize his knowledge there. In addition, Mohit also felt that it would give everyone a chance to get closer to his family that resided in the U.S for they all met once every couple of years. The possibility of finally getting to know his cousins swelled his heart with joy. And nothing that anyone said would diminish his spirit for he was determined to start a life as an American. However, when he tried to explain the benefits of the move to me, I merely scoffed at him and said that the move would ruin all of our lives.
My views of the move completely differed with those of my brother. I had a friend in America, who told me that people with a unique way of life are treated in a way that constantly belittles them and disregards their feelings. After that I felt nothing but anxiety towards this move and hatred because I would have to leave most of my friends and relatives behind. In addition, this move looked as if it would change me and I did not want to turn into a person that seeked every person’s approval. Even after my countless pleadings, my parents refused to change their mind and so every remaining day in India became a blessing and a curse at the same time.

Both of my parents had been skeptical about the decision, but after the persuasion of several relatives they had consented; however, an emotional battle still raged inside their heads. My father felt that he may be betraying his parents by leaving them in their old age. Even as he thought of this he could not help but think that it would be extremely tough to start a new life especially after he had lived a particular way for thirty-five years. On the other side my mother was far more ironclad about moving because she knew it would mean a better life for her sons then she had ever received, but her reasons for staying were stronger too. Every single person that she had grown up with lived in India and to move meant that she consented to separate from them for a long time while having the ability to visit them once every couple of years. She also feared that we all break away from our Indian heritage. In the end as the days dwindled by both my mother and father realized that the time to leave behind the past was now and that the future for the upcoming generations lay in a distant land.

Of course, all these thoughts of doubts and hope occurred nearly seven and a half years ago. It took a while, but my family pulled it together as we are all accustomed to the way of life here. Even though we miss India at times, I do not think that any of us regret moving here, even for a second. If someone had told me that I would have some of the best time of my life here when we moved, I would have called them crazy, but that is exactly what happened when we made the best and the most important decision of our lives.





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