That Place Called USCIS
Somewhere under high security (now thats up for debate), within the walls of large looming office buildings, among millions of files, petitions, applications, approvals, and denials, lies a little packet about half an inch thick with my name and address on it. I am the petitioner and Mr.Punju the beneficiary. The fate of our relationship first lay in the hands of friends who smuggled phone calls and letters, then in the hands of our families, then in the hands of the extended family and society, and now it finally lays in the hands of a complete stranger. An officer of the Department of Homeland Security, an officer who must sift through scores of such applications for visas - immigration or otherwise and stamp it with approvals and denials. What must go through her or his head when deciding these factors. Do they get emotionally attached to the love stories of how two people met, fell in love, and have finally decided to spend their lives with each other? Do they feel the pain of all those pining for their loved ones from across thousands of miles? Do they not get that sometimes even a month’s delay might be an extra salary pack for them, but eons for those whose fates they decide day in and day out? Continue Reading »