I am writing this from Brussels airport. Its quarter to nine on Wednesday, 12th Aug'09 and I have just started what seems to be one long picnic. Picnic for now, I am sure things will change as time flies. I guess I would be posting this online sometime later as the internet hotspot required a credit card and I am not carrying one. But I am tempted to write about all the I have in between the ears so that I do not end up missing much.
As I left New Delhi, people called, wished and asked if I was feeling excited or nervous. Contrary to popular expectations, I was feeling neither. Being emotionless is not exactly how I would introduce myself, but quite strangely, I did not realise the fact that I would be leaving home for a long long time. The drive to the airport was typically Delhi-ish. My young driver hailed from Allahabad and gave me good company throughout. The New Delhi airport has had a huge makeover, replete with glistening roofs, round-the-clock maintenance, smoking bars et al. But the huge rush that the airport has to manage is something God knows which makeover would manage. Baggage check-in and immigration didn't take long and I found it amusing sitting well within New Delhi and still being outside Indian shores, so to speak.
The Jet Airways crew was friendly and the flight took off smoothly. What followed was what I was waiting for. Fresh lime, pav bhaji, , movies, a sound sleep, idly and upma, more drinks and Brussels. It funny... people always complain about delays in Indian airports, but it took me more time to get through a single security check here. The airport is beautiful and the waiting lounges provide a wonderful view of all the flights and the runway. My brother managed to track me down somehow and surprised me by calling me at the counter where I checked in. I thought it was some prank that the crew was playing on me when it said that there was someone who wanted to speak to me. I was secretly expecting some security officer to ask a few questions and vague images of me standing behind bars suddenly vanished on hearing my brother's voice. Every now and then, he manages to come up with something like this.
It still doesn't feel like I have left India. I guess it never will, at least not the way I thought it would. One just has to turn round a corner to bump into an Indian. A group of Indian students just crossed over, buzzing about 'Love Aaj Kal'. Delhi doesn't seem to be very far.
I have to go now, don't want to miss my flight in all this writing. I guess I will continue this as soon as I get time. Next up in an American Airlines flight to Chicago, followed by a three hour bus journey to Madison.
As I left New Delhi, people called, wished and asked if I was feeling excited or nervous. Contrary to popular expectations, I was feeling neither. Being emotionless is not exactly how I would introduce myself, but quite strangely, I did not realise the fact that I would be leaving home for a long long time. The drive to the airport was typically Delhi-ish. My young driver hailed from Allahabad and gave me good company throughout. The New Delhi airport has had a huge makeover, replete with glistening roofs, round-the-clock maintenance, smoking bars et al. But the huge rush that the airport has to manage is something God knows which makeover would manage. Baggage check-in and immigration didn't take long and I found it amusing sitting well within New Delhi and still being outside Indian shores, so to speak.
The Jet Airways crew was friendly and the flight took off smoothly. What followed was what I was waiting for. Fresh lime, pav bhaji, , movies, a sound sleep, idly and upma, more drinks and Brussels. It funny... people always complain about delays in Indian airports, but it took me more time to get through a single security check here. The airport is beautiful and the waiting lounges provide a wonderful view of all the flights and the runway. My brother managed to track me down somehow and surprised me by calling me at the counter where I checked in. I thought it was some prank that the crew was playing on me when it said that there was someone who wanted to speak to me. I was secretly expecting some security officer to ask a few questions and vague images of me standing behind bars suddenly vanished on hearing my brother's voice. Every now and then, he manages to come up with something like this.
It still doesn't feel like I have left India. I guess it never will, at least not the way I thought it would. One just has to turn round a corner to bump into an Indian. A group of Indian students just crossed over, buzzing about 'Love Aaj Kal'. Delhi doesn't seem to be very far.
I have to go now, don't want to miss my flight in all this writing. I guess I will continue this as soon as I get time. Next up in an American Airlines flight to Chicago, followed by a three hour bus journey to Madison.
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