India.....

The academic term of my MBA program brings me to India where I will spend the next 3 months travelling, studying and exploring India's capacity and tendencies. I blog my experiences both good and bad every so often. Feel free to contact me at valiantca@gmail.com.

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I sighed as i stepped my foot inside the IGI Airport in New Delhi after a long 9.5 hour flight, an hour of which was spent circling over delhi waiting for ATC to allow us to land. Not overly exited about what i was going to see, there was still some hope that India will greet me with open arms. Getting off the plane, I felt the need to recreate Sharukh Khan's Swades and bowed down to kiss the ground, not soo much out of respect rather to convey my message "Bharat Maa" Please save me!.

Within the first few minues, yes minutes, of walking through the newly built terminal 3 with exotic pictures of Goa and Taj Mahal, i was already building my "places to visit" list based on those pictures. Being a foreigner in India, you are treated with a lot of respect and courtsey, however being an indian of a foreign decent all those rules dont apply. You are sent through the worst line ups and are asked a million questions just to prove to you that the person behind the desk is much better. Again, this phenomenon has been widely described in literature over the years and commonly known as the "indian leg-pulling". Oh well! its part of the game, I told myself as I gave the immigration officer a dirty look for laughing at my decision to come to India for academics and walked towards the baggage claim carrasols. I was still quite surprized to see the modern look and feel of the IGI Airport and was very amazed by the clenliness until my thought was disturbed by a lady next to me. "Bhaiya hum to yahin ke hain", the lady argued with a porter who was trying to convince her to give her a little extra money for his job. It is then that the conversation got more interesting, I guess its common for us Indians to describe our life history to total random strangers as it somehow boosts our Ego and makes us sleep better at night. The lady continued to tell about her daughter who was married to a guy in Atlanta and how they have the best BMW and a really big house that she can go and live in any time of the year; her first class seat is paid for her son-in-law and she spends over 3lakh rupees (3 hundred thousand rupess) twice a year during her visits. The porter must have been as frustrated as me by the end of this and must have wondered why she coudnt give him an extra 20 rupess (less than 50 cents) if she was that much of a hot shot. I think she owed him more for making him listen to that crap and prolly shoud have paid for my porter as well for getting me so interested in it. The bags finally arrived, and loading up the cart I tied them all together with a belt that I had in my handbag. I think i was smart to do that for the whole flight i wondered if someone ran away with one of my bags, what should i do? Obvious answer, run behind them to get it back, knowing my great ablity to run, i can probably outrun the thief in no time and claim my bag, but on another thought what about the rest of the luggage? i run the risk of getting that stolen as well while i am busy runing behind a thief and so my idea to tie up all luggage together sounded prudent.

I gazed around and for once I felt big! everyone seemed rather tiny and super skinny, well i wasnt complaining and was rather happy on my moment of glory. I saw a telephone booth and dialed my friend's number who was supposed to pick me up from the airport. Hellow, i am at pillar number 14 lane C, come fast the voice on the other side of the phone demanded and introduced himself as Ravi, my friend's husband. I am in a golden honda city, the man told me as a visual aid for me to recognize him. I was asked by my friend to get a scotch whiskey for her lovely husband that i had picked up at the duty free. Well, i was cheap too so i had gotten a small bottle of Chivas at Pearson International. Honda City, I remember saying that name to myself and wondered if the small Chivas was a good idea afterall! In big bold letters i saw New-Delhi Duty Free written in front of me, I quickly gathered courage and picked up a Jonny Walker Black Label 1L bottle of whiskey that burnt a hole in my pocket, for no apparent reason other than to stay true to my roots of showing off. I was doing so in a suttle manner atleast, i told myself.

The cool and calm surroundings seemed to be only inside the IGI airport, as i pushed my cart outside the front doors, I was greeted by atleast a 1000 people, ofcourse! not waiting for me. Every single one of them looked like they had just been let out of the Jail for some murder or theft. I swalloed the salaiva in my mouth and moved forward with my eyes wide open in shock. After some struggle I saw Ravi and felt a little better, he took my cart and we hurried towards his car. I thought to myself, Honda City, that must be Civic for India and was reminded of my best friend Vivek's car and our endeveours in it. My dreams came crashing to the ground. Before me was a Golden Honda City, which looked so beat down that i wondered, how if ever it will start and actually move. The trunk seemed big enough to hold one of my big bags, but it was used to hold a Cooking Gas cyllinder, the car ran on that. I knew india was a place of innovaters, but this was beyond my imagination. Well, we shoved my bags into the back seat and I sat into the car and took a deep breath. The next few minutes of my life were spent in trying to figure out why the car wasnt starting, i was kicking myself in my ass for thinking that the car may not start. Eventually, we got it to start and got out of the Airport. I wondered, as I stuck my head outside of the window for some fresh air, was it really a wise decision to get that Jonny Walker Black Label or should I just hand over the Chivas i had gotten earlier, considering the state the car was in....