“Oh India! You are from India! That is great! I have heard that there are still arranged marriages taking place in India. Is that so?” asked the young girl with her voice full of girlish humour and eyes full of mischief. I could not help but smile back, thinking that this was probably the eighth or ninth time; somebody was asking me this question. In reality, I have lost count of it. For some reason, totally unknown to me, my mind wandered back to all those comments thrown by my American classmates or co-workers. Well, the most common ones are “Indian food is very spicy” or “I love India food” or “The country of the Taj Mahal!” or “Do you watch Bollywood movies?” or “You guys are crazy about Cricket right?” or “You still stay with your parents in India? Are you kidding me?” Trust me, among all these comments; “the arranged marriage” rules the roost! Laughing to myself, I turned around to see Donny smiling down at me, with a mop in his hand, ready to clean the floor. “Hey Shankar, how are you doing today?” he asked with genuine warmth in his eyes. “I am good” I replied back with interest. There are a very few people, whom you feel like respecting when you see them for the first time, although you know nothing about them. Donny was one of them. If he wore a suit, rather than his blue uniform, he could easily pass on for a professor. I would define him as a person who commands dignity. As I got to know him better, I found out that my first impression was very true. He is certainly a man with so much self-respect and dignity, that it becomes so obvious in the way he works. I have never seen a person doing such a menial job, as cleaning the floor, with such joy and happiness, that it becomes so apparent to everybody working around him. Although we run into each other almost every day, we have never spoken anything apart from the casual “How do you do?” and “The weather is good today”. I don’t know what made us to talk to each other on that day, but I am glad that it happened. It started with him greeting me in Hindi “Namaste!” A little surprised though, I greeted him back. He winked at me and said “That is the only word in Hindi that I know” I smiled back and we started talking about India. I fully expected him to say “Oh! You are from India. You are from the country of Bollywood” Instead I heard the most beautiful sentences ever said to me by an American “Oh! You are from India. You are from the country of Mahatma Gandhi”. For an instant, I did not know how to react. I was so used to people referring to Indian food, Bollywood and Cricket that my ears could not take in something so foreign, yet so sweet. The next few sentences were the most melodious music that I have ever heard. He went on saying “I am a great fan of Mahatma Gandhi. During my childhood, I was shown a documentary on Gandhi, which totally captivated me. Do you know that Martin Luther King was a student of Gandhi? At his house in Atlanta, there is a big portrait of Mahatma Gandhi. He considered himself as a true disciple of Gandhi.” I felt a sudden sense of pride and respect for my homeland. It is not that I don’t respect India otherwise. It is just that a deep wave of honour and esteem for my motherland seemed to be soaring up from some hidden place and yearning to absorb all those sweet words uttered by Donny. “It is really wonderful to note that there are still people around who remember Gandhi, when referred to India. It is almost been a year since I am in the United States and this is the first time I see a person referring to Mahatma Gandhi. I am deeply touched”, I replied back with candid eyes. He went on with a twinkle in his eyes “Oh! That’s fine. There are so many things about Gandhi which created an impact in my life. Do you know something? Martin Luther King refused to be acknowledged as the Messenger of God. He considered himself as the disciple of Gandhi, though. So, I always feel that Gandhi was a messenger from God. He was a saint. After all, even Jesus Christ was a messenger from God. He was nothing but flesh and bones.”