The first creature that swims out of the desi apartment ant holes are the visting-from-India parents. Dressed in full-hand blue formal shirt, brown formal pants and white sneakers (those big Power sports shoes) the desi father is an intimidating figure. Nice shirt and pant. But by god! those sneakers does make it a killer combination. Add to it the monkey cap and a sweater - they now look like a cross between Saambasiva Bhagavathar and Frankie goes to Hollywood. The desi mother is a frail bespectacled creature with a saree and white sneakers. The more advanced ones have an ill-fitting salwar that is so tight near the feet that the white sneakers begin to look like claws. They too have a monkey cap and a sweater. The whole sneaker thing and its relationship to the desi father is considered a special subject in many universities. Specialists claim that the desi father must secretly worship a Ramarajan cult, which requires them to use sneakers in conjunction with those pants. Amazingly enough their kids don't talk to them about that. The kids simply open the cages and the parents go out, graze for the day and came back home at dusk.
And they walk furiously.
Imagine this. You get on a sidewalk and you see a gang of Indian parents armed with monkey caps, sweaters and sneakers charging at you - what do you do? It must have been quite a fright for the unaccustomed. Once they catch you then you will be attacked with questions like "I am from Udumalaipet near Coimbatore, do you know Guru Subramaniam from Madras? btw what is your salary? Green Carda?". I have been asked questions by puzzled natives such as "do all Indian people walk so much? Is it a custom? Is it part of religion?". I watch TV for long hours and don't walk. I do not know why the parents walk so much. Come April and you can see herds of parents purposefully walking in circles. Its like their thing. Thats what they do. Indian dads also have this amazing ability to ogle at American women. America, is what I call, a full-breasted country. The country is filled to the brim with breasts. Left, right, on the sidewalk, in the mall, Starbucks, grocery shop - you have breasts, breasts, breasts, breasts and more breasts. Sometimes it feels as if people have to tip-toe and walk sideways between breasts on their way to a movie theater. All dads notice these breasts. The breasts are there - the dads cannot miss them. But visiting Indian dads make it look cool. My favorite past time is to notice an elderly Indian gentleman in a mall. The slithering quick look he gives south of women's face is so quick that you feel like sitting down and taking notes.
A common sight on a sunny weekend day, in touristy spots, is the visiting Indian parents accompanied by a pregnant woman (who is naturally their daughter/DIL) and her husband with a camera. When the sun is out and these ants start coming out, you suddenly notice that the females among the desi species are pregnant. This was so not the case when they went into their winter hibernation. Have you noticed that most Indian women deliver kids between March 1 - to - Sep 30? Its like they took a compass, kept the sharp tip on the sun and used a pencil at the other end to darken one half of the earth's orbit. They looked at the darkened half and said "the highlighted part is when I will have kids". The highlighted part of the earth's orbit is what the rest call summer. That's the season when the parents can come from India and do the Douala stuff without being inconvenienced by winter. So this brings to focus - and this is important - the part of earth's orbit that is not highlighted.
This is when the action happens.
One can easily conclude that a lot of action happens in the desi bedroom after Oct1st. The Indian household really gets 'jiggy with it'. That crucial period is like the Vulcan mating season that occurs once every so many years. If it can make Spock act funny, imagine what it would do a bunch of horny Indians. One can be certain on the time frame when the Indians would be the most distracted. Now you may point out a few desi couples who delivered out-of-cycle. Those few couples are the rebels. The kind who postpone having a baby for N years after marriage. However, what these few rebels fail to realize is that they were born to a much smarter breed of people. Once the elders from India grow tired of dropping the "poozhu, poochi and visesham" related hints - the parents of the boy and parents of the girl huddle up and hatch a plan. They form a task force type army and one set of parents are given two chariots to lead this army to battlefield America. That chosen set of parents come charging like knights in white horses to Amerikka, invade their kids house, and light a fire to perform a yagna. The burn the contraceptives into the yagna and lock their children in rooms for indefinite period of time until the horny desi guy has no choice but to multiply. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the modern day putra kameshti yaaga.