Looking back to September, I was totally new and unaccustomed to America. I brought with me the dream that the Gold Rush immigrants carried in the early 19 th century; the American dream that every desi lives up to from his younger days until he attains it. It unfortunately is badly tortured after reality spawns in and uncovers the shroud off a struggle that one has to abide by each day of his life. Los Angeles – “The city of angels”, to my astonishment was, if not swarmed but sporadically encountered by gentlemen asking for alms on the street. Gentleman for a desi because this guy still has a better accent; something he is so keen to imbibe. Coming back from a country amassed with poverty, illiteracy, extortion, corruption & crime and yet brimmed with self-obsession, I don’t have much to lament about. But I am about to stress upon the stressful life a desi lives dreaming about yet another interview at the US Visa Consulate. With great power comes great responsibility, maybe thi...