Spring

Lets ignore the third part of my India-bound travelogue for the time-being. We have better things to discuss. Standing at the 24th winter of my life, it is natural that I discuss a few things that should matter to a 23-winters-experienced guy. The allusions should be clear by now. If it is jump to Para 3. If not read on.

Well career. Hmmm, by God's grace and my parents' untiring efforts and inspiration, I have a degree and am pursuing a few more :P (don't know for how long though). In fact, with all modesty, career has never been a very big cause of worry for me.

However, (the more intelligent guys were asked to come here) even though 23 winters have passed (the 24th one is in passing), 23 (?) springs have always been far behind. Or should I say that spring meant simple harmonic motion, Op-amp design for my spring semester examinations, getting my cycle seat-spring repaired from Gopalda, having a spring in my step (God knows why), Kempty Falls in Mussourie and the list is endless. Well, I would be lying if I say that I haven't tried my bit to appreciate "that" nuance of spring . Believe me, I have.

Probably during my 12th winter, Amitabh Bachchan preached that to sense "that spring" once you see that very special girl of your life, bells start chiming in your head (Amar Akbar Anthony). The preaching was iterated during my 14th, 15th, and 17th winters. For a considerable period of time, I was under the impression that that chiming was the true essence of "that spring".I stared at beautiful girls for long (I mean until they noticed), but not even an insect buzzed, leave alone bells. Amitabh Bachchan is a BLOODY LIAR.

There have been a plethora of preachings after that from several father and mother figures in numerous facets of life, but I could implement none of them. Imagine this: one of my endeavors was to feel a "sweet pain" in my heart if I want to embrace "that spring" during my 18th winter, but again I had a minor chest pain out of a breathing trouble, but believe me I couldn't associate my taste buds with it :(. In another instance, I attempted to live life in a dual mode. In other words, I tried to empathize with "that spring" in my 22nd winter but still, when that girl adored fried eggplants, while the empathizing me simply abhorred them, I had another liar in picture.

But the final nail in the coffin came in the present chilly winter from one individual whose truthfulness was exemplary for me till now. Mr. Shah Rukh Khan enunciated that one has to see God in the girl of your choice to experience "that spring". I was so moved by the sermon (well at least this was something new), I won't lie but I really started looking for God in the girl to have "that spring" in my step. I tried different locations but no. no, no.....although it did occur to me if I could see God in the girl, we would have Varanasi, Vatican City, Mecca vying for the top honeymoon locations...never mind, I couldn't see even a vahana (transport, generally animate forms) of God (no offence intended, hihi I can at times though), leave alone God. My idol even Mr.SRK turned out to be a BLOODY LIAR.

Waiting eagerly for the next sermon and a bit of truth for "that eternal spring"!!

Travelogue-2

It has been a long wait in the airport once I declined to brave the Manhattan chill. After the Jamaican girl left for her flight ( God is Great!! ) , I continued with my "shitty" wait (refer Part-1). I had a hearty breakfast comprising of breadstick, chicken noodle soup and an orangeade. 6 more hours. I took the Air-Train to roam through the airport from one end to the other a couple of times. Bored of that,I called up home in India and also a few friends. What now? I downloaded JJWS for my 14 hr long settling time over a few land and water bodies.

And then, started the fun.....

I fortuitously spotted the typical squatting Desi queue in front of the Air-India counter. I joined in. I was joined by 2 Indian families, presumably both settled for quite some time in the US. The male protagonist of one of these families hails from Ahmedabad and his counterpart in the other was half Goanese and half Mumbaikar. Their accents and attitudes, however spoke volumes to oppose their genealogical loyalties. The volumes , nonetheless underwent a contraction when a few typical Gujarati "Deddy, Boll, Holl" were blurted out (no offence intended ). Another family was a typical Punjabi family hailing from where Aditya Chopra ended DDLJ, that same "smell of the earth, that rustic appearance, that sarson da saag accent". Add a prototype Telugu amma, appa, anna to that with their phonetic convolution (again no offence intended, just my inability to appreciate Dravidian languages). I was surprised to find that almost 50% of the assembled crowd did not have the quintessential "Satyameva Jayate" on their passports, but had the US emblem (don't know what it is called).

NRIs....they are huge

I took a couple of snaps in the airport and lazed about with my laptop. Sitting in the boarding lounge , with the "Entera, Tere naal, bhalo achhi, majha naam, kemches" resounding everywhere my AI-102 flight seems to be an excellent precursor of the celebration that is to come: INDIA!! (to be continued)

Travelogue-1

Its my blogging anniversary again!! Well, the pace at which I blog puts Aamir Khan movies at shame. Anyways... this blog is quite significant in its own right. I am penning this blog at John.F.Kennedy International Airport , New York waiting for my flight to New Delhi in about 7 hours time. I am being accompanied by a girl from Jamaica who goes to Princeton and is brooding over the "fucking hard questions they set in Princeton" and is contemplating choosing "history of science" over psychology. To stave off this overtly friendly lady's bickerings, I have my head-phones plugged in listening to some rhythmic hindi numbers!!
Anyways, I am excited to say the least. I am excited like anything. I AM GOING BACK TO INDIA. I am going to my motherland, to my very own Calcutta, to those serpentine lanes, to those tram lines, to those never-ending jams, to those fish curries, to those rashogollas and above all, be again with my ma-baba. Dying to eat the Hilsa Bhape cooked by my mom.

The first flight from LA to NY was quite drab , me getting the middle seat compressed on the window side by an elderly lady who never lifted her eyes from the 173rd page of her paperback novel (I read the entire page through my peeking eyes, but could not find anything so worthwhile to be mesmerized for 2hrs) and on the aisle seat by a middle-aged guy who swore at somebody throughout the entire flight. American domestic flights do not offer you food, so I had to be content with a cup of orange juice and a cup of water. I have always had problems with head-eye-ear aches while landing and this time it was no exception. The 2 degrees Celsius chilly NY greeted me with a literally cold shoulder. I wore gloves for the first time in my life. I had originally decided to go to Manhattan and enjoy the famed skyline, but the continuous drizzle accentuating the chill even more , forced me to decide against....oh no this girl will drive me crazy, now she's hell-bent on comparing the slumber party standards between Princeton and UCLA.Never mind, at least I have somebody to talk to.
Anyways, the JFK airport is bustling with life now. I hope to have something to eat now, and yeah definitely attend to nature's call. That has been a peculiarity of my air travels: I have attended to nature's call in all cities I have gone to: Frankfurt, Atlanta, LA, Singapore, Tokyo and NY is to be no exception!! :p

Now she wants to discuss about a lady's husband who "seems a bit weird in his behavior and why is he carrying 2 phones on him?"

Air travel is enjoyable...