The daughter

With a mild, not too rich Indian accent, the dark-haired girl discusses her medical goals and prospects with a man she refers to as “sir”. Her politeness and formal speech suggest that the person on the phone is of higher authority, a future boss perhaps. Lost among conversations and other distracting noises, her words become muffled. Then I hear her talking about the volunteer work she does at the Harvard University Hospital. Impressive, I whisper to Kat, who doesn’t even hear me. I assume that this young student either wants to be a nurse or a doctor. I am sure her parents dream of their daughter being a successful doctor, a top surgeon, a respectable figure. Moments later, after a hard road bump, the bus comes to a halt, waking the boy next to me. The Indian girl politely thanks the man on the phone and says good-bye. Carrying a content face, she gets up from her seat and approaches the doors, waiting to get off at the next stop. Right before she departs the bus, her phone rings.

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