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A Reversal of the Tide in India
Bala J. Raman sits in his Madras, India office. He lived in the United States for several years, he said, but moved back to India in order to pursue better job opportunities.
(By Andrea Bruce -- The Washington Post)
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"I learned how to drive there . . . a minivan," Uma Kalluri said proudly about her three years in Gaithersburg. "Outings, shopping. There I could go and do it all myself. Here, I have a driver."
She knows that sounds luxurious, but between the driver, other servants, her 75-year-old mother-in-law, and extended family in her home, Uma Kalluri is rarely alone. "In India, it's just how it is," she said.
Asked about living with his mother, Dutt Kalluri's business-speak does not miss a beat. She "adds a lot of value to the household," he said, because the children speak fluent Tamil and have ready access to the family history.
In India, his employer is a household name, a conglomerate that makes everything from cement to software. His office is located in this thriving coastal city, also known as Chennai. Companies here seek managers with U.S. experience such as Dutt Kalluri to connect American customers with Indian workforces. In a tech sector relying on cheap labor, these hires are often the priciest. Dutt Kalluri would not elaborate on his compensation except to say it was in the "top 5 percent of Indians."
His management approach strives to be American, he said. "I want a systematic approach to anything we do," he said. "It's like the new blood mixing with the old blood. We are the change agents."
Beyond his official job description, Kalluri's tasks range from emphasizing the importance of time management and punctuality to making sure the Indians do not mispronounce Rockville (it sometimes comes out ROKE-vill-ee) or San Jose (San JOE-zee). Indians tend to overpromise, Kalluri said, and he tries to get a new generation of young software engineers to be honest with clients, committing only to what they truly can deliver.
"Working in India and working in the U.S. is entirely different," said Kalluri. "I used to get a little ticked off by the commitment system."
Besides new workplace dynamics, Indian families find themselves adjusting to other facets of life.
With their husbands at work and children at school, RNRI women devise activities to stay busy. On a recent morning at the DLF Golf and Country Club in the New Delhi suburb of Gurgaon, women filled the gym to capacity by 9 a.m. They were there to exercise, but another attraction had lured them: Oprah.
Women cluster around the gym's lone television to watch every morning, then resume jogging, walking or biking -- and dissecting the show.
"Almost 98 percent of the people here are NRIs," the gym's trainer Surinder Sharma said. "I didn't ever see the U.S. but from what I know, this is what it's like."
"This" could be considered a paradise. He gestured at a bastion of manicured lawns, swimming pools and fountains, trimmed bushes that rise and fall like the humps on a camel's back. There are caddies, guards and masseuses.
After her workout, Nazneen Modak collapsed into a wicker chair on the veranda. It sounds odd, she said, but returning to India has made her feel even more American.
"It is a very Westernized life here," said Modak, who was born and raised in Bombay, then lived in New York, New Jersey and Hong Kong. She moved back to India six years ago because her husband transferred to General Electric Co.'s India office. "If you have money, you can live quite comfortably."
That can pose a challenge to raising well-adjusted, grounded children, she said. Her three boys have been instructed to call the driver and the cook "uncle" and to treat them like elder relatives, Modak said.
The RNRI Association estimates that between 30,000 and 40,000 expatriates have returned to Bangalore, India's largest technology hub, in the last decade alone. Their boomerang migration exists alongside two seemingly opposite trends: a rapidly Westernizing India and an ethnically diversifying United States where immigrants form tight networks to retain cultural ties.
In the United States, "we used to go the temple every week for a half day on Sundays. We drove 60 miles," Grama, president of the RNRI Association, said laughing. "Here, it's right across the street and I haven't gone there for six months." Religion in India is "in the air, so I just pick it up," said Grama, who spent a decade working in the United States but returned to India in 1998 to become chief executive of Span Systems Corp., a company he co-founded.
Five years after returning to India, the Kalluri children have picked up an Indian accent when they speak English. Lakshmi, 9, lists the names of several friends and brags that she can already divide decimals -- ahead of where would have been in Montgomery County schools, her father points out.
Perhaps, Lakshmi said, but that does not outweigh what she misses most from the States: her cousin Anita. She lives in the Maryland suburb of Laurel -- and is still an NRI.






