So you're an R.I? That don't impress me much..

An oft-recited quip from the Big Joke Book of Desi stereotypes suggests that, the acronym NRI would be more accurate if it were to expand to "Non Returning Indian". By deciding to abort my job hunt in the U.S and return to Bangalore, I have done the unexpected and, it seems, the unthinkable; I'm one of that rare breed, the Returned Indian (R.I for short).

I've said goodbye to campus life as an international student, morning cereal and americano shots, apartment maintenance, credit ratings, impromptu discussions on status and work visas, late-night walks on empty streets, super-fast Internet speeds, online television streaming, access to fifty varieties of beer, on-call drinking buddies, taking complete cleanliness for granted, being complimented on my command over English, and stuffing myself on junk food out of necessity. I say hello once again to filling breakfasts and great coffee, having people in my face all day, my own full-fledged bed (yes), downloading without fear of the authorities, surreptitious drinking and eating-out, the bustle of the streets, impromptu discussions on politics and films (and being expected to have strong opinions on the same), and being rebuked for my appalling Tamil and Hindi.

The reactions of people around me over the last two months have made for some interesting observations. As an RI, that rare being, family members and the extended ones are likely to look upon you as the local zoo management might a white tiger; initially, a lot of fussing over this recent arrival who draws in the eagerly-awaiting crowd, but this soon gives way to puzzlement about how you turned out this way, different from the rest. Recessive gene or not, what went wrong?

Yet, the attitudes of family members (and whatever vested interests they may have in your career path) are much more predictable than those of people who (apparently) have less of a stake in you. When dealing with the 'rest' - close friends, mere acquaintances and assorted hangers-on - you, the RI, can likely expect the following:

1. You will be subjected to intense scrutiny by people who know you well, not least in the way you talk. The slightest change in your accent is all the invitation needed to spark off a confused-desi bashing thread, which is typically kept going in the following way: use a moderately biggish English word and it'll be attributed to the Americanization of you; sprinkle your speech with some colloquial slang, and you'll be accused of trying too hard to fit back in. It's heads-they-win-tails-the-joke's-on-you.

2. Having been abroad and expanded your horizons, that heady citizen-of-the-world feeling will disappear soon; you will be brought down to your home-turf with a resounding thud by those people who are just waiting to pop the question, "So, where do you feel you belong?", and enjoy a knowing smirk at the raw nerve they've touched. Nevertheless, you could rescue the situation by replying "The stretch from Anna Swamy Mudaliar Road up to Wheeler Road extension in Frazer Town, that would be it", showing them that you are not to be outdone in the business of being insular, either.

3. There are several contrasting initial reactions to be had from people meeting you for the first time, and learning of your return. Admiration, for example, typically comes from those who are about to (reluctantly) leave for the US or the UK themselves, and your 'bravery' is just the reassurance they need. There are those who will think you stupid for walking out on your chosen land-of-opportunity, but they'll store your email ID anyway in the hope of soliciting information when it's their turn to depart. You might encounter the odd armchair nationalist, who will reprimand you as soon as he hears the word "America". And, indifference is usually met with when trying to chat up that seemingly attractive someone, who could well be thinking "God please, get back to whereveritis you came from!"

4. The fixation with ordering mineral water "specially for him, he is US-return" wears off soon among people, but with toilet paper - that other great cultural differentiator which gets people inquisitive - it's another thing altogether. If (unlike me, I hasten to add) you're taking your time to acclimatize back to the Indian way, DO NOT let on that you still have rolls stocked up in your bathroom, unless you want to be the subject of much mirth as discussed in points 1 and 2. This being the 21st century, you could be entitled, however, to wonder out loud about an absence of a water-spray/hose-pipe. Just don't call it a health faucet!

It's great to be back.