At immigration in San Francisco, Kartar was subjected to humiliating
questionings, bordering on a rigorous interrogation. He saw other
Indians being subjected to similar
treatment while other potential immigrants with obvious Caucasian
features being let in with the barest of formalities. He asked someone
sitting next to him as to why this was happening. “It is because Indians
are slaves,” he was told.
This rankled the young, proud Jat Sikh. “A slave?” he asked himself several times. “Do I die this way? Or do I wake up and do something about what others think I am?” Those questions surrounded Kartar. He knew that India’s stock in the world order had to go up. For that to happen, freedom was a necessity, no longer a mere dream. Something had to be done about getting that freedom. The fires of patriotism, nationalism and liberty began to burn bright inside the young man. And what he managed during his next three years is something ordinary folk do not accomplish during entire lifetimes.
This rankled the young, proud Jat Sikh. “A slave?” he asked himself several times. “Do I die this way? Or do I wake up and do something about what others think I am?” Those questions surrounded Kartar. He knew that India’s stock in the world order had to go up. For that to happen, freedom was a necessity, no longer a mere dream. Something had to be done about getting that freedom. The fires of patriotism, nationalism and liberty began to burn bright inside the young man. And what he managed during his next three years is something ordinary folk do not accomplish during entire lifetimes.
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