“Excuse me Sir, I am from Citibank, we are offering you one year free GOLD credit card, would you …” and immediately a bell rang within. The greed to decorate your wallet with a Gold card closes ears to all thought processes that would have otherwise enlightened you with the consensual reality. I ascertained myself, “Who said credit card provokes spending? I am just going to have it because it’s free for a year, I’ll cancel it the next year”.
First few days go with at-most sincerity and the card solves the only purpose it was got for, “a show piece”. Things soon changed and the ignorant wallet begins housing the card unaware of the slow yet steady increase in the buying power it had.
Spending got a new dimension. “Going out for shopping” soon became “Going out means shopping”. We don’t have any idea of buying anything until we suddenly like something, it’s time we posses it. The best pass time would be going to huge shopping malls, coffee pubs, Pizza outlets and any other place that would require a heavy wallet if not for its tempting substitute.
Things come to terms only when we get the monthly payment statement. It will have a description of all our unwarranted expenses. Plus some uncalled for insurance, and many other non familiar entries adding bill value. We’ll pay the bill with a resolution not to use that “idiot” card any more… it’s like writing in water.
No one encourages our spending power better than him. The bank guy, impressed with our credit history (how would he know the history behind that payment), waives the fee for life time, and we freak out even more.
The story goes like, a Black trouser: 1500 rupees, a Checked shirt: 1400 rupees, a medium size pizza: 250 rupees, a coffee for 2: 100 rupees.
There are some things money can’t buy (thankfully!), for everything else there is Master Card.
Monday, February 07, 2005
Monday, January 31, 2005
Money Matters…No matter what…
After relocating to Bangalore for work, there were a lot of rough rides I had to encounter, the biggest problem was conveyance.
Residing approximately 12 kms from my office, the autos were not a lucrative option; the eventual source was the BMTC busses. These busses, ornamented with hydraulic doors were terribly out of frequency and do not operate to all destinations.
From HAL Post at Airport Road to the commissioner’s office in Infantry Road, it takes me 2 busses and 75 minutes to reach, courtesy ever increasing vehicle traffic and never increasing infrastructure.
So, I decided to bring my bike to Bangalore. Soon, Inquiries began; The ABT guys quoted Rs. 650/- for transportation and Rs. 150 for sundry expenses while the Great Indian Railways Charged a meager 130/-. Like any normal person, I chose the latter option. The (mis)adventure started there.
I had my tour from Chennai to Bangalore that Sunday and intended to take my bike along. I refreshed it and at 3pm I took it to the parcel section of Southern Railway, where I found the so called “Railways recognized agents” in their lungies (designer dhotis) previously sitting in a dirty corner approaching me. He began talking rules as to what I should do, and what he’ll do to get my work done, and of course what he’ll charge for this self proclaimed otherwise difficult service.
Being Sunday, rules say the owner must travel with the vehicle, and wanted my original tickets. I didn’t have them but had a hard-copy of the confirmation email sent by IRCTC while booking the tickets through the net. But it won’t do :(. Aiming to complete my work on that day, I told him I’ll be back with the tickets, in 3 hrs. I took the local to a suburb madipakkam around 20 kms from here. It was 7 pm when I returned.
Work started straight away. First work was packing; Just 2 old gunny bags, a torn cardboard and a little jute rope, these were my vehicle's unparallel armor. And it costs 100 bucks. Next, to get the tickets for my vehicle, with all necessary documents, the ticket fee Rs. 130/- and fee for the counter guy 20 bucks (it’s over the table so, I call it fee). Third, entry of my vehicle into the railway station, despite having my gate pass and RC book, I had to pay 50 bucks to the constable outside. Now the to/from and the train number must be written on the gunny bag covering my bike, cost for writing those three things, 10 bucks. All formalities done, the bike must be loaded on the train, cost for loading 20 bucks and for safe journey of my bike without scrapes 20 more bucks. All done, now for guiding me thru all these (well known) processes, the agent gets 150 bucks, They don’t want money free of cost you see. This totaled to a well rounded to 500 bucks (neat mathematics).
Uff it was 8:20 already, I went home, and came back fresh to board the train leaving at 9:45 PM. The horn blew and the train began to move. In it was a tired yet contented guy happy to take his vroomer to Bangalore. Next morning, 4:45AM, the train reached the Bangalore Majestic station (Majestic is a misnomer). Me and Bhavanesh went on to the luggage compartment. My bike was still in and a porter gets it down, his fee, 50 bucks. To avoid any more squander, I did few things myself. I went to the luggage office to get a gate pass, his fee 10 bucks. Now there is a guy who checks of the number in the gate pass is the same as on the bike, and he charges 10 more. We unwrapped the bike ourselves saving 50 bucks. The total expense that morning 70 bucks. We finally got our bike out in one piece. The total expense Rs. 570/- and 6 hours of running the corridors of the Chennai city and Bangalore station.
My trouble ended here, but I was shocked at another incident at that time. There were 3 more bikes along with mine, and one guy refused to pay money to the porter for alighting his bike. He was literally manhandled and abused in the filthiest language and the only other witness for the incident - an RPF constable.
God Save, NO Re-Format India!!!
Residing approximately 12 kms from my office, the autos were not a lucrative option; the eventual source was the BMTC busses. These busses, ornamented with hydraulic doors were terribly out of frequency and do not operate to all destinations.
From HAL Post at Airport Road to the commissioner’s office in Infantry Road, it takes me 2 busses and 75 minutes to reach, courtesy ever increasing vehicle traffic and never increasing infrastructure.
So, I decided to bring my bike to Bangalore. Soon, Inquiries began; The ABT guys quoted Rs. 650/- for transportation and Rs. 150 for sundry expenses while the Great Indian Railways Charged a meager 130/-. Like any normal person, I chose the latter option. The (mis)adventure started there.
I had my tour from Chennai to Bangalore that Sunday and intended to take my bike along. I refreshed it and at 3pm I took it to the parcel section of Southern Railway, where I found the so called “Railways recognized agents” in their lungies (designer dhotis) previously sitting in a dirty corner approaching me. He began talking rules as to what I should do, and what he’ll do to get my work done, and of course what he’ll charge for this self proclaimed otherwise difficult service.
Being Sunday, rules say the owner must travel with the vehicle, and wanted my original tickets. I didn’t have them but had a hard-copy of the confirmation email sent by IRCTC while booking the tickets through the net. But it won’t do :(. Aiming to complete my work on that day, I told him I’ll be back with the tickets, in 3 hrs. I took the local to a suburb madipakkam around 20 kms from here. It was 7 pm when I returned.
Work started straight away. First work was packing; Just 2 old gunny bags, a torn cardboard and a little jute rope, these were my vehicle's unparallel armor. And it costs 100 bucks. Next, to get the tickets for my vehicle, with all necessary documents, the ticket fee Rs. 130/- and fee for the counter guy 20 bucks (it’s over the table so, I call it fee). Third, entry of my vehicle into the railway station, despite having my gate pass and RC book, I had to pay 50 bucks to the constable outside. Now the to/from and the train number must be written on the gunny bag covering my bike, cost for writing those three things, 10 bucks. All formalities done, the bike must be loaded on the train, cost for loading 20 bucks and for safe journey of my bike without scrapes 20 more bucks. All done, now for guiding me thru all these (well known) processes, the agent gets 150 bucks, They don’t want money free of cost you see. This totaled to a well rounded to 500 bucks (neat mathematics).
Uff it was 8:20 already, I went home, and came back fresh to board the train leaving at 9:45 PM. The horn blew and the train began to move. In it was a tired yet contented guy happy to take his vroomer to Bangalore. Next morning, 4:45AM, the train reached the Bangalore Majestic station (Majestic is a misnomer). Me and Bhavanesh went on to the luggage compartment. My bike was still in and a porter gets it down, his fee, 50 bucks. To avoid any more squander, I did few things myself. I went to the luggage office to get a gate pass, his fee 10 bucks. Now there is a guy who checks of the number in the gate pass is the same as on the bike, and he charges 10 more. We unwrapped the bike ourselves saving 50 bucks. The total expense that morning 70 bucks. We finally got our bike out in one piece. The total expense Rs. 570/- and 6 hours of running the corridors of the Chennai city and Bangalore station.
My trouble ended here, but I was shocked at another incident at that time. There were 3 more bikes along with mine, and one guy refused to pay money to the porter for alighting his bike. He was literally manhandled and abused in the filthiest language and the only other witness for the incident - an RPF constable.
God Save, NO Re-Format India!!!
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
நான் இயற்கையின் வசம்.
தமிழ் - For a change.
Enjoying the breeze on the shores of Gandhi beach, I wrote this:
வானத்தின் வண்ணத்தை தன் உடையாய்ச் சூடி,
பிராணத்தின் வாயுவைத் தன் பாதியாய்க் கொண்ட,
பூமியின் முக்காலில் என் காலை நனைத்தேன்.
Enjoying the breeze on the shores of Gandhi beach, I wrote this:
வானத்தின் வண்ணத்தை தன் உடையாய்ச் சூடி,
பிராணத்தின் வாயுவைத் தன் பாதியாய்க் கொண்ட,
பூமியின் முக்காலில் என் காலை நனைத்தேன்.
Friday, November 12, 2004
Those little moments
Standing at the Paoli train station near Philadelphia waiting to pick my friend traveling from DC, I saw a new maroon Mercedes SLK convertible gently making a turn into the station. The covered car parked right next to our car. Soon the boot opened inwards and the hard top humbly folded inside.
In it I saw a middle aged couple, trying to get to terms with the car’s overwhelming controls. There were two cute black dogs in the back seat, sitting with discipline although un-tied.
Whilst I was ardently drooling at the car, the man from it walked towards me and started “Hi, how r you doin”, before I could react, he continued, “We would be doing something silly now, we planned surprise our daughter who’s comin’ in this train with this brand new Mercedes Convertible”, I replied “Wow! sounds great, all the best”.
He quickly went back to the car, and covered his, his wife’s and one dog’s face with paper bags.
Shortly the train arrived, and as the girl came out to the parking lot, she felt something inane looking at two human heads covered with bags, but the lone dog without a face-cover caught her eyes. And there she stood FLABBERGASTED, at the car. She took a couple of minutes to assimilate that it was all true, it was her parents and that ‘mean machine’ is all hers. They rushed to hug each other tight. The girl was jumping in ecstasy as she went around sharing her joy with everyone around.
After the euphoria diluted, the man came to me, and said, “This is why I work so hard, FOR THESE LITTLE MOMENTS”.
In it I saw a middle aged couple, trying to get to terms with the car’s overwhelming controls. There were two cute black dogs in the back seat, sitting with discipline although un-tied.
Whilst I was ardently drooling at the car, the man from it walked towards me and started “Hi, how r you doin”, before I could react, he continued, “We would be doing something silly now, we planned surprise our daughter who’s comin’ in this train with this brand new Mercedes Convertible”, I replied “Wow! sounds great, all the best”.
He quickly went back to the car, and covered his, his wife’s and one dog’s face with paper bags.
Shortly the train arrived, and as the girl came out to the parking lot, she felt something inane looking at two human heads covered with bags, but the lone dog without a face-cover caught her eyes. And there she stood FLABBERGASTED, at the car. She took a couple of minutes to assimilate that it was all true, it was her parents and that ‘mean machine’ is all hers. They rushed to hug each other tight. The girl was jumping in ecstasy as she went around sharing her joy with everyone around.
After the euphoria diluted, the man came to me, and said, “This is why I work so hard, FOR THESE LITTLE MOMENTS”.
Saturday, October 09, 2004
Niagara, not the fall but raise of water.
Saturday 7 am, Sep 11th 2004, the third anniversary of the 9/11 incident here in US, we packed our bags, maps, directions and started our 400+ miles journey to Niagara falls, one of nature’s unparallel creation. Our car, a Mitsubishi Galant was quite spacious for 5 of us. Clocking an average of 75 mph and with a couple of stops for gas, breakfast and lunch, we reached Niagara Falls' city around 2 pm. Niagara city (or whatever its called), is a tiny city that boasts of having an International Airport is separated from Hamilton, Canada only by the falls. We had already booked our accommodation in Rodeway inn, one of the economical hotels in that area. Rodeway is run by a Gujarati family. We checked in, freshened up and off we went to the falls.
Niagara has two falls, the American falls that’s on the US side and the Horse shoe falls that separates US from Canada. I must say, it is really magnificent. The sight of water descending exuberantly from a great height with that extreme velocity resulting in tall fumes that instantly turn to vapors was spectacular. On a normal day the falls gives away 675,000 gallons of water every second. Enough to quench the thirst of whole of Chennai. We went on the "Maid of the Mist", a ferry that cruised past the American falls, to the Horse shoe falls and back. We were all given complimentary dark blue raincoats to avoid getting wet and from a far sight, the cruise boat with people in the coats looked like a basket of blue berries. First we went past the American falls; it was a dramatic view of the water dashing down and two clear and close rainbows that were ornamenting the falls. This was a starter, and now comes the main course, with water pouring at full 275 degree angle, the falls gets its name because of its shape of a typical horse shoe. Well, pouring is an understatement, it was a battle for supremacy between every molecule of water in which some succeed and jingle with the breeze as vapors, while others follow the monotonous path to the destiny. It is surprising to know that this relentless flow and the zeal is only for another month, soon there will be no battle, no pandemonium, and everything will be stilled by the unbiased yet ruthless winter. After admiring the beauty of the huge waves, tall fumes and vapor clouds, we walked up the hill to get closer to the falls.
Soon, we walked to the other side of the American falls, into the great island, near the caves. That place gave us an opportunity to get up close and personal with the flowing waters of the American falls, but somehow not feeling like getting wet, we decided to stay on top, enjoy the beauty, take pictures and sight birds ;). I had a wonderful close ups with a Russian made binocular that my dad gifted me.
There is nothing better than feeling like home. And Niagara was the best. I haven't seen these many Indian families anywhere else. There were all kinds of mamas and maamis, mostly babysitting. Listen them talk was really simply recreating.
After some hot cappuccino and French fries, it was time for the light show. The view is best from the Canadian side, and it wasn’t a big deal from this end. I didn't enjoy it that much.
Once we were done, we had dinner in an expensive yet not worthy restaurant and drove back to the hotel. Not before getting lost a couple of times before we figured out our location.
I got to talk to Ashok, one of my very good friends from school who stays 20 miles from there, in State Univ of NewYork, Buffalo. But it was sad we cud'nt meet as I didn't have an IDP and he didn't have a car that day.
The next day, it was again a reverse of y'day’s route. We reached the hotel at 3:00 pm and I discovered I had a lot of laundry to do.. I was tired and had no interest to go to work the next day. But I don't have options :( .
Niagara has two falls, the American falls that’s on the US side and the Horse shoe falls that separates US from Canada. I must say, it is really magnificent. The sight of water descending exuberantly from a great height with that extreme velocity resulting in tall fumes that instantly turn to vapors was spectacular. On a normal day the falls gives away 675,000 gallons of water every second. Enough to quench the thirst of whole of Chennai. We went on the "Maid of the Mist", a ferry that cruised past the American falls, to the Horse shoe falls and back. We were all given complimentary dark blue raincoats to avoid getting wet and from a far sight, the cruise boat with people in the coats looked like a basket of blue berries. First we went past the American falls; it was a dramatic view of the water dashing down and two clear and close rainbows that were ornamenting the falls. This was a starter, and now comes the main course, with water pouring at full 275 degree angle, the falls gets its name because of its shape of a typical horse shoe. Well, pouring is an understatement, it was a battle for supremacy between every molecule of water in which some succeed and jingle with the breeze as vapors, while others follow the monotonous path to the destiny. It is surprising to know that this relentless flow and the zeal is only for another month, soon there will be no battle, no pandemonium, and everything will be stilled by the unbiased yet ruthless winter. After admiring the beauty of the huge waves, tall fumes and vapor clouds, we walked up the hill to get closer to the falls.
Soon, we walked to the other side of the American falls, into the great island, near the caves. That place gave us an opportunity to get up close and personal with the flowing waters of the American falls, but somehow not feeling like getting wet, we decided to stay on top, enjoy the beauty, take pictures and sight birds ;). I had a wonderful close ups with a Russian made binocular that my dad gifted me.
There is nothing better than feeling like home. And Niagara was the best. I haven't seen these many Indian families anywhere else. There were all kinds of mamas and maamis, mostly babysitting. Listen them talk was really simply recreating.
After some hot cappuccino and French fries, it was time for the light show. The view is best from the Canadian side, and it wasn’t a big deal from this end. I didn't enjoy it that much.
Once we were done, we had dinner in an expensive yet not worthy restaurant and drove back to the hotel. Not before getting lost a couple of times before we figured out our location.
I got to talk to Ashok, one of my very good friends from school who stays 20 miles from there, in State Univ of NewYork, Buffalo. But it was sad we cud'nt meet as I didn't have an IDP and he didn't have a car that day.
The next day, it was again a reverse of y'day’s route. We reached the hotel at 3:00 pm and I discovered I had a lot of laundry to do.. I was tired and had no interest to go to work the next day. But I don't have options :( .
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Marketing Multifold!
Selling one piece of scrap is more challenging that exporting huge chunks of quality product. We do marketing in India, but I was taken aback by the way the Americans do it. Every one in this country is born MBA graduates and all of them are authors of the book “To blow out of proportion”.
Last week I was in Washington DC, walking the cross sections of a city full of museums and monuments. Places including Jefferson Monument, Lincoln Monument, and War Memorial were in my Itinerary. But the hard fact was that these places have nothing great to offer. Lincoln is perceived as one of the greatest president of US of A, probably he deserved a monument, but there was a selling point, his monument (just a statue in marble that’s left dirty) is in straight line with the Washington Monument, and the Capital Building. Jefferson got Virginia from colonial rule into Independent USA; he now gets his own monument with 30 feet tall statue, gardens, lakes what not. Lal Bhahadur Shastri united entire India, I wonder if he has anything close! These places are now places of tourist attraction and millions of visitors make it a point to visit them adding revenue.
Their strategy is not limited to monuments; we were on my way back from Buffalo, NY to Malvern, PA when we crossed a tiny county, so famous that I can hardly recollect its name ;). On the interstate while crossing that county there were huge banners everywhere reading “Visit Ruby Falls”, “Ruby falls this, Ruby falls that”, just curious to know what was so exciting, we made a point to visit it. It was a tiny falls falling from 3 feet high into a long stream of water and “PLING” it’s the sound of getting a 1000 Watts bulb.
Its like saying:
A research team of two proceeded towards the apex of a natural geologic protuberance, the purpose of their expedition being the procurement of a sample of fluid hydride of oxygen in a large vessel, the exact size of which was unspecified. One member of the team precipitously descended, sustaining severe damage to the upper cranial portion of his anatomical structure; subsequently the second member of the team performed a self rotational translation oriented in the same direction taken by the first team member.
Instead of:
Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water, Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after.
Last week I was in Washington DC, walking the cross sections of a city full of museums and monuments. Places including Jefferson Monument, Lincoln Monument, and War Memorial were in my Itinerary. But the hard fact was that these places have nothing great to offer. Lincoln is perceived as one of the greatest president of US of A, probably he deserved a monument, but there was a selling point, his monument (just a statue in marble that’s left dirty) is in straight line with the Washington Monument, and the Capital Building. Jefferson got Virginia from colonial rule into Independent USA; he now gets his own monument with 30 feet tall statue, gardens, lakes what not. Lal Bhahadur Shastri united entire India, I wonder if he has anything close! These places are now places of tourist attraction and millions of visitors make it a point to visit them adding revenue.
Their strategy is not limited to monuments; we were on my way back from Buffalo, NY to Malvern, PA when we crossed a tiny county, so famous that I can hardly recollect its name ;). On the interstate while crossing that county there were huge banners everywhere reading “Visit Ruby Falls”, “Ruby falls this, Ruby falls that”, just curious to know what was so exciting, we made a point to visit it. It was a tiny falls falling from 3 feet high into a long stream of water and “PLING” it’s the sound of getting a 1000 Watts bulb.
Its like saying:
A research team of two proceeded towards the apex of a natural geologic protuberance, the purpose of their expedition being the procurement of a sample of fluid hydride of oxygen in a large vessel, the exact size of which was unspecified. One member of the team precipitously descended, sustaining severe damage to the upper cranial portion of his anatomical structure; subsequently the second member of the team performed a self rotational translation oriented in the same direction taken by the first team member.
Instead of:
Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water, Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after.
Monday, September 27, 2004
I was Airborne...
Saturday 21st August 2004,
6:55 PM.
I was in the Chennai Domestic Airport, through-checking in my luggage at the Jet Airways counter to Philadelphia. I took the boarding pass confirming the only available window seat for me, despite it being the last one and it wouldn’t push back. I soon went through the screening test where some bunch of khaki guys insist you to keep my hands horizontally stretched, for a second I felt they were filming me standing at the nose of the Titanic. I was then waiting in the lobby near Gate 4, and there came the announcement. I, like all other passengers there moved steadily towards the aircraft. That was my first flight in 20 years. I was in some kinda excitement but couldn’t let it out. I’d been on fights when I was in my kindergartens, and I still have slight memories of that.
Happily sitting in the window seat, I was waiting for the flight to take off, and Ashwini from the boarding section came running towards me (I noticed her name while collecting my boarding pass), I was taken aback wondering if it was one more of my company’s tricks end my trip by showing me how the flight looks, but it was not so, she give me a new check-in luggage slip that accommodated a stop at Amsterdam.
The flight then moved, gradually towards the end of the runway waiting for the queue to clear. I never believed Chennai airport handled flights flying in and out every 60 seconds. As the flight clearly maneuvered to the end of the runway, the engine suddenly roared like a wild bull increasing aggression before it could charge, and it zipped from 0 to about 250 KMPH in a whisker. Guess what, Shumi does it even faster.
Sitting in, I didn’t feel that great, it was more like our TTDC’s 52 seats omni bus. But the flight crew complemented it; they were beautiful, ever smiling, and ready to help. (Well, that’s what they are paid for).
As the flight moved up, I cud see our Madras-namma-Madras illuminated with sodium vapor laps, it was sad coz I couldn’t really see much. As we were moving higher and higher, we reached 36000 feet with occasional jerks, we even went over the holy shrine of Tirupathi.
Dinner was served, it was good and I enjoyed it. At around quarter past 10 we reached “aamchi” Mumbai. The flight 30 mins late and with 90 mins for the next flight to leave, I was frantically rushing towards the international Airport. Unlike Chennai where the International airport is just a stone throw away, the Mumbai International Airport (ISO 9001:2000) is in Ahemdabad. There were few of them from the same flight who had almost the same route as mine (Don’t ask me how I found it). We had to load our luggage into a transition bus, and proceed to the international airport. That Volvo bus was more comfortable than the aircrafts I flew in.
I was deliriously awaiting my luggage to come out of the bus, when I acquainted with Anitha from TCS Chennai who’s going to Seattle via Amsterdam. The feeling that I had company suddenly made me feel as if I knew her for years. We went together searching for the KLM/Northwest boarding area. On the way, we noticed a plastic baggage wrapping section; we wrapped our bags completely, paid him and headed towards the KLM counter. At boarding time, there was this guy asking me all sorts of questions, including my pet dog’s name. After finishing boarding and scrutiny we left for immigration. The wrapper guys came around to me complaining that the girl didn’t pay and to her telling I didn’t pay. I some how got rid of them and went beyond immigration, into the Northwest NW041 aircraft. It was a Douglas DC10 that can carry 272 passengers and fly at a maximum of 545 miles/hour (some crazy statistics). In it I could see almost 80% were Indians, mostly mamas and mamis who going for jobs mostly baby sitting. By now I’d lost Anitha, and couldn’t spot her in that crowd.
As the flight moved, I was talking to the guy next seat. Basically an IITian, Amit, works for a company in Diamond District, the building shared by Covansys-Peoplesoft office, Bangalore. He is some kinda consultant, and claims to travel the world very often. We didn’t talk much and I desperately wanted to get some sleep. At around 2 AM IST, food was served, I am not too sure if I would call that dinner or breakfast coz I’d finished dinner and I was not fasting to break it, but I still ate it. It was some kinda bun with veggie and cheese fillings and a can of apple juice. Well I drink only Apple juice even though my dad doesn’t wear a tie and my mom doesn’t know a gown.
This flight didn’t even have a personal TV. I spent the night watching a documentary on Moscow played at the front (Hail Kremlin!). As the flight proceeded over 36000 feet at 900+ kmph, there were jerks often, the captain announced that the weather wasn’t good. I began praying god to cancel any appointments with me until I see America.
At around 9 am IST, 6:30 AM local time 22nd Aug, I was in Amsterdam, Holland. My first step outside India. Out there I spotted Anitha, and few others including, Harish, Anu and Raju all from CTS Chennai. We roamed the entire airport, and it was great being together. Anitha, is a diary writer, and she was making note of every incident, including, walking straight and turning left. We all jelled till it was time we leave, Me, Harish and Anu were heading back to the same flight to Minneapolis, while the rest two were on a different one heading Seattle.
We were airborne, flying over the gigantic Atlantic Ocean. The sky was bright and the base was blue, I was reminded of the helicopter of Jurassic park. Just because I was flying in the same flight again, doesn’t mean they must show me the Moscow’s documentary again and again :(. This time, my neighbour was Jon Well, a long gray haired old man from Las Vegas. He is (still) a bachelor and has his horse as his only company. With no one to save his money for, he travels the world often, this time he was back from Poland. We had a great time talking about almost everything under the sun. The flight journey was 10 hrs and we spent 7 hrs talking/eating/talking. We exchanged chocolates, currencies, stamps and what not!
It was 1.30pm local time and I was now in Minneapolis, Minnesota. It is my port of entry and I was waiting for the Immigration, a bit nervous. I came to the officer and requested him 4 weeks of stay, he asked me if I was sure, and I said yes, he asked if I was pucca, confident and if he could lock my words ;-), and I said YES, and he stamped me 3 months. I was exalted, as my visa was expiring in a month, and now my I94 makes me stay longer. The customs was again a cake walk. I was pinching myself to see if this was real.
After this long journey, I’m still not done. I had to catch another fight from Minneapolis to Philadelphia. Wondering if I was crazy to catch a flight via Minneapolis (in the mid) when my destination was Philadelphia (in the east)? That was the cheapest deal my company could get. I walked the huge Minneapolis airport for a while before I could spot my gate. From now everything was dollars and I was still not used to spending dollars.
The flight to Philly was nothing of a great sort, it was 2 hrs of idle time and I was busy reading “Windmills of the gods” by Sidney Sheldon. At around 6:30 pm local time I reached Philadelphia, and was happy to see my baggage safe and sound. I reached the ground clearance section, booked a shuttle to Homestead studio suites, Malvern, around 33 miles from Philly.
The Shuttle was a Dodge van that links major Hotels and inns with the Airport. This was my first direct view of American roads; they are awesome, huge, clean and well disciplined. And the cars that zoom! I could spot every brand, including, Mercedes, BMW, Audi, Volkswagen, Volvo, Ford, Jaguar, Mazda, Chevrolet, GMC, Cadillac, Lincoln, Buick, Oldsmobile, Pontiac, Mercury, Mitsubishi, Subaru, Kia, Saab, Chrysler, Dodge, Jeep, Nissan, Infiniti, Toyota, Lexes, Honda, Acura, Suzuki, Hyundai, Isuzu, International, Mack, Peterbilt … I am tired!
I was sitting in the van along with three other passengers. One of them was going to the Day-inn, one to the Sheraton and one more the Hilton. Though I was the first into the van and though my place (“Malvern”) was crossed 3 times, he dropped me last. That’s when I realized whatever your nationality is, all are humans.
I checked into the Homestead Suites, and went into my room (no. 200). The studio apartment was a well furnished full kitchen hotel with no restaurant. After all this travel, I had to make my own dinner because, to buy anything outside, I need a car. There was nothing in walking distance and most in most roads pedestrians are prohibited.
Now the time is 8:30 PM, Sunday 22nd August. (6 AM Monday in India)
6:55 PM.
I was in the Chennai Domestic Airport, through-checking in my luggage at the Jet Airways counter to Philadelphia. I took the boarding pass confirming the only available window seat for me, despite it being the last one and it wouldn’t push back. I soon went through the screening test where some bunch of khaki guys insist you to keep my hands horizontally stretched, for a second I felt they were filming me standing at the nose of the Titanic. I was then waiting in the lobby near Gate 4, and there came the announcement. I, like all other passengers there moved steadily towards the aircraft. That was my first flight in 20 years. I was in some kinda excitement but couldn’t let it out. I’d been on fights when I was in my kindergartens, and I still have slight memories of that.
Happily sitting in the window seat, I was waiting for the flight to take off, and Ashwini from the boarding section came running towards me (I noticed her name while collecting my boarding pass), I was taken aback wondering if it was one more of my company’s tricks end my trip by showing me how the flight looks, but it was not so, she give me a new check-in luggage slip that accommodated a stop at Amsterdam.
The flight then moved, gradually towards the end of the runway waiting for the queue to clear. I never believed Chennai airport handled flights flying in and out every 60 seconds. As the flight clearly maneuvered to the end of the runway, the engine suddenly roared like a wild bull increasing aggression before it could charge, and it zipped from 0 to about 250 KMPH in a whisker. Guess what, Shumi does it even faster.
Sitting in, I didn’t feel that great, it was more like our TTDC’s 52 seats omni bus. But the flight crew complemented it; they were beautiful, ever smiling, and ready to help. (Well, that’s what they are paid for).
As the flight moved up, I cud see our Madras-namma-Madras illuminated with sodium vapor laps, it was sad coz I couldn’t really see much. As we were moving higher and higher, we reached 36000 feet with occasional jerks, we even went over the holy shrine of Tirupathi.
Dinner was served, it was good and I enjoyed it. At around quarter past 10 we reached “aamchi” Mumbai. The flight 30 mins late and with 90 mins for the next flight to leave, I was frantically rushing towards the international Airport. Unlike Chennai where the International airport is just a stone throw away, the Mumbai International Airport (ISO 9001:2000) is in Ahemdabad. There were few of them from the same flight who had almost the same route as mine (Don’t ask me how I found it). We had to load our luggage into a transition bus, and proceed to the international airport. That Volvo bus was more comfortable than the aircrafts I flew in.
I was deliriously awaiting my luggage to come out of the bus, when I acquainted with Anitha from TCS Chennai who’s going to Seattle via Amsterdam. The feeling that I had company suddenly made me feel as if I knew her for years. We went together searching for the KLM/Northwest boarding area. On the way, we noticed a plastic baggage wrapping section; we wrapped our bags completely, paid him and headed towards the KLM counter. At boarding time, there was this guy asking me all sorts of questions, including my pet dog’s name. After finishing boarding and scrutiny we left for immigration. The wrapper guys came around to me complaining that the girl didn’t pay and to her telling I didn’t pay. I some how got rid of them and went beyond immigration, into the Northwest NW041 aircraft. It was a Douglas DC10 that can carry 272 passengers and fly at a maximum of 545 miles/hour (some crazy statistics). In it I could see almost 80% were Indians, mostly mamas and mamis who going for jobs mostly baby sitting. By now I’d lost Anitha, and couldn’t spot her in that crowd.
As the flight moved, I was talking to the guy next seat. Basically an IITian, Amit, works for a company in Diamond District, the building shared by Covansys-Peoplesoft office, Bangalore. He is some kinda consultant, and claims to travel the world very often. We didn’t talk much and I desperately wanted to get some sleep. At around 2 AM IST, food was served, I am not too sure if I would call that dinner or breakfast coz I’d finished dinner and I was not fasting to break it, but I still ate it. It was some kinda bun with veggie and cheese fillings and a can of apple juice. Well I drink only Apple juice even though my dad doesn’t wear a tie and my mom doesn’t know a gown.
This flight didn’t even have a personal TV. I spent the night watching a documentary on Moscow played at the front (Hail Kremlin!). As the flight proceeded over 36000 feet at 900+ kmph, there were jerks often, the captain announced that the weather wasn’t good. I began praying god to cancel any appointments with me until I see America.
At around 9 am IST, 6:30 AM local time 22nd Aug, I was in Amsterdam, Holland. My first step outside India. Out there I spotted Anitha, and few others including, Harish, Anu and Raju all from CTS Chennai. We roamed the entire airport, and it was great being together. Anitha, is a diary writer, and she was making note of every incident, including, walking straight and turning left. We all jelled till it was time we leave, Me, Harish and Anu were heading back to the same flight to Minneapolis, while the rest two were on a different one heading Seattle.
We were airborne, flying over the gigantic Atlantic Ocean. The sky was bright and the base was blue, I was reminded of the helicopter of Jurassic park. Just because I was flying in the same flight again, doesn’t mean they must show me the Moscow’s documentary again and again :(. This time, my neighbour was Jon Well, a long gray haired old man from Las Vegas. He is (still) a bachelor and has his horse as his only company. With no one to save his money for, he travels the world often, this time he was back from Poland. We had a great time talking about almost everything under the sun. The flight journey was 10 hrs and we spent 7 hrs talking/eating/talking. We exchanged chocolates, currencies, stamps and what not!
It was 1.30pm local time and I was now in Minneapolis, Minnesota. It is my port of entry and I was waiting for the Immigration, a bit nervous. I came to the officer and requested him 4 weeks of stay, he asked me if I was sure, and I said yes, he asked if I was pucca, confident and if he could lock my words ;-), and I said YES, and he stamped me 3 months. I was exalted, as my visa was expiring in a month, and now my I94 makes me stay longer. The customs was again a cake walk. I was pinching myself to see if this was real.
After this long journey, I’m still not done. I had to catch another fight from Minneapolis to Philadelphia. Wondering if I was crazy to catch a flight via Minneapolis (in the mid) when my destination was Philadelphia (in the east)? That was the cheapest deal my company could get. I walked the huge Minneapolis airport for a while before I could spot my gate. From now everything was dollars and I was still not used to spending dollars.
The flight to Philly was nothing of a great sort, it was 2 hrs of idle time and I was busy reading “Windmills of the gods” by Sidney Sheldon. At around 6:30 pm local time I reached Philadelphia, and was happy to see my baggage safe and sound. I reached the ground clearance section, booked a shuttle to Homestead studio suites, Malvern, around 33 miles from Philly.
The Shuttle was a Dodge van that links major Hotels and inns with the Airport. This was my first direct view of American roads; they are awesome, huge, clean and well disciplined. And the cars that zoom! I could spot every brand, including, Mercedes, BMW, Audi, Volkswagen, Volvo, Ford, Jaguar, Mazda, Chevrolet, GMC, Cadillac, Lincoln, Buick, Oldsmobile, Pontiac, Mercury, Mitsubishi, Subaru, Kia, Saab, Chrysler, Dodge, Jeep, Nissan, Infiniti, Toyota, Lexes, Honda, Acura, Suzuki, Hyundai, Isuzu, International, Mack, Peterbilt … I am tired!
I was sitting in the van along with three other passengers. One of them was going to the Day-inn, one to the Sheraton and one more the Hilton. Though I was the first into the van and though my place (“Malvern”) was crossed 3 times, he dropped me last. That’s when I realized whatever your nationality is, all are humans.
I checked into the Homestead Suites, and went into my room (no. 200). The studio apartment was a well furnished full kitchen hotel with no restaurant. After all this travel, I had to make my own dinner because, to buy anything outside, I need a car. There was nothing in walking distance and most in most roads pedestrians are prohibited.
Now the time is 8:30 PM, Sunday 22nd August. (6 AM Monday in India)
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