Same DCE like pain

So the flight took-off without me. I was now more aware what had happened to me. Papa called almost every minute to comfort me but it hardly helped. He told me to talk to them in a tough tone and tell them to put me on the next flight to Philadelphia. So I went to this guy well-built and bald guy. He was observing what had happened to me. I told him that I want to see that lady in-charge. But he told me that I should get a note from Air-India saying that it was there fault that actually made me loose m flight. So I headed back to terminal 3.

Meanwhile Papa called up and told me that he talking to the agent and was trying to get me on some flight to US. He told me that I should relax and have some food. I heard Sonu for the first since I left for US. He told me to just enjoy being at London. Who gets to be at the airport for as much time as one wants. And who wants to be stuck at ant airport with unknown probability of getting a flight. But anyways his words were very soothing at the moment. I thought yeah this the chance to see something foreign.   

On the bus for terminal 3. I reached the Air India counter looking for some cooperation. The Air India flight to New York was to leave around 3 p.m.. I was hoping if could get on that flight. I told my situation to the person across the counter and told him that due to the late touch down of the plane I missed my connecting flight . He then called his chief but the chief was not ready to acknowledge that the plane touch down at the terminal 15 minutes late. That's the height of everything. You don't admit your fault in first place. I lost my head and barked at the guy at the counter. This guy is a well built Desi-British. And he barked back at me. And I said sorry. Sometimes I feel its not bad to have a gym toned muscled body. Had I got that may be I could not have been stuck at London.

I was waiting at the counter standing his head, though I knew it was useless. I was hoping if I could just get on the NY plane somehow. First time in a wild new world can very scary. No Papa to fall back on. No Ma to give you those comfort pills. And of course on family that looks after you all the time.

This guy has some familiar marks on his hands. I asked him if he is from India. He replied in a rough tone that he is from Punjab and that his family came here and settled. When you are out of India for the first time it seems every Indian will be friendly to you. But its not that way at all. He looked at me with prejudice and burden. I guess he has that same Indian government employee blood.

I kept waiting for the response of his chief. This guy meanwhile is checking out on the this girl who is sitting on the counter next to him. He asking her things and at times ogling at her. The girl is surely very beautiful. With a pair of glasses she looked even more cute. I cursed this bald Sardarji. May you never get hook up with her.

Finally the call came. The Sardar told that if since this is a US Airways ticket I should get an endorsement from them and then they could put me on the next flight. Now that's more like my university's system.  I again hopped on the bus and headed to terminal 1. Again the security check. Again the long walk to the gate. The US Airways chief was gone by now. Their staff now appeared in a different dress. I went to same guy who told me to get the note from Air India. He told me that the staff was gone and there was no way I could get anything done now. Slowly but surely my hope was dying. He told me to see him tomorrow and told his name. I could not get it. So he wrote it on a page. And guess what. There is at least one person in the world whose writes more illegibly than me. But I found many more of them here. My advisor is one of them.

This wasn't the end. I kept shuttling between the two terminals for about 4-5 times. Every time you had to climb on those elevators, then security checks and long walks. I guess that just summarizes the bad planning of agent.

More next time

08/08/08 Auspicious Chinese Day: Not Quite

So where were we? Yes our plane had taken-off finally after lazing around 45 minutes on the run away. I don't know for what reason. May be Katrina Kaif was shooting at the run way or may be it did that because the pilot had a bad stomach early morning.

Enough of nerdness. I guess when someone pisses you off then you tend to say everything that is unpleasant. So some positive things now. Air India has one of the best on board services. You just look at their interiors. They are just fabulous. Comfortable seats, cushions, blanket, personal LCD to view movies or play Sudokos and clean toilets. I do not understand why these people cool the aircraft so much and then provide blanket as well. I guess for the same reason.

Meanwhile, after the take-off, I looked around. My seat is in the middle row on the right. An elderly Sardarji is seating on the other end with the middle seat empty. Its always very comforting when no one is seating next to you. You can stretch as much as you can and not get bothered when the person goes to the washroom.

Memories are a little faint now and I am trying my best to recover. Finally the plane had stopped climbing up and moving stably. I was having mixed feelings. A lot of shock and little bit of exictment. I was still bothered by the 'narcotics experinece'. I tried to get some sleep but it was more of a closed eye stuff.

Breakfast was served in a few minutes by the 'beautiful' air hostess. I wondered what things were left behind except my family and friends. Well the list is fairly long. It would be a real pain to read. But I am a smug and I shall do what I please.

First on list was 'Khatron Ke Khiladi', my then most recent crush. I just loved it. Papa won't like it but I watched it twice daily, once in night and other time the repeat telecast in the morning. Who would miss great stunts, lots of drama, hot models and Akshay Kumar's evil laughter. Then of course cricket. I don't know how many years I spent on watching cricket on our pristine TV or Youtube. Only consolation for Papa is that I do not do that any more here.

Among other things I was sick about in the plane and now also is Krishna's sweets and McDonald's meal. Another honest confession for Papa. I really loved you when you brought sweets though I always showed my dis-pleasure. I dearly miss hindi movies. They have their own flavour. Simple love stories, some illogical suspence, hot heroins Katrina, Aish, Priety are there asset. English movies are very complicated. I dearly miss Kamala nagar and Connaught Place for obvious reasons. I spent a lot of money of my parents at these places. Who could forget the Metro.

Then our car. Its so white that my teeth look tardy in front of it. My books, novels, cricket bat, our market, our park, Homoepathic Doctor to whom I would run to when I got cold, Laxmi who gave me all the stationeries over the years, yeah the list is endless.

Some hours later there is an announcement, "Passengers, plaese tighten your seat belts. We are going through some rough weather." Now an airophobic(new term) person like me is certainly scared to the hell. My Dadi tells me to remember God or our 'Ramji" when you are nearing death. But I think this was not that bad. I have meet a lady in my lab who says that she enjoys such situations. My God!! GG you are such a chicken heart.

An old Sardarji was seating near the window and apperntly there was some problem with his LCD. It was not working so the flight attendent placed him on the seat next to me. The Sardarji was of my Baba's age and he was very fond of TV. I guess all old people are. But the odds were not in his favour. The audio of the LCD was not working. So he decided to just watch it as it is. I am a TV addict but I am still sane enough to not view TV when there is no volume. Meanwhile I just acted as if a was sleeping as his last hope was me. Trust me this a great trick. I practised it successfully in my days at DCE when I used to travel in DTC and got away from giving seats to many lady passengers. Just act as if you are sleeping.

It almost 9 hrs in the plane now. 1 breakfast and a juice session were gone. Now people were roaming around the plane. Desi students also were looking to socialize with others of their kind so that they could find someone else who could accompany them further. But my mind was pre-occupied with something else. Those 'drugs'. What should I do? They stopped me in Delhi. I thought they would arrest me in London and I would soon be newspapers around the world. Hey, thats neat. Free publicity and world recognition at the expense of Crocin , Dygein.

But yeah my head was swirling with ideas. Dispose them in the toilet. Or eat them all. Or leave the boxes in the rack above. Or better give them to old air hostess as a parting gift. Or a very nerdy idea. Hide them in the bag of the Sardarji next to me.

I asked the air- hostess how much we had before we touched down at London. Apart from the medcines and next thing that bothered me was my next flight. My next flight was to Philadelphia from terminal 1. The Air India plane was to land at terminal 3. I had read and heard a lot about the London Airpot and I was really scared that I had very little time to change my flight.

The plane landed at Heathrow at about 11:45 a.m London. Within seconds I had a call from Papa. Some GPS system or What Dad? A lot of people were getting down and majority was Desi Mal. Its very true London is a virtual India. Come on Desis go, give these British their own medicine. Divide and Conquer. This is not history poor readers but a class of computer algorithms. Got you.

It took around fifteen minutes for the plane to get to the terminal. It almost felt like we were travelling to Patna and were stopped just because some other train was passing by. Then to slow nature of Desis. All of them were taking there own liesurely time to get off the plane. Picture chal rahi hai kya? Jaldi Chalo.

I just had one thing on my mind, to reach terminal 1 somehow. The directions at the airport were good and I was able to get the bus to terminal 1. At terminal 1 I had a security check. Boss they are just courteous enough to leave your clothes on. Belt, jacket, shoes and mobile are all sources of bomb for them.

Moving quickly I reached the US- airways counter only to find no one. I read the display and saw the gate at which the Philadelphia flight was to leave. I rushed to gate and reached the gate with 1 hr to flight. There was US- Airways staff(apperntly for help). I told them that I was on the flight and showed them my ticket. They confirmed the ticket on there computer but told me that they could not put me on the flight as I had not been issued a boarding pass. I broke cold sweat. I told them, I had a confirmed ticket and that they should put on flight. My broken english did not help me. I was now close to tears. The lady told me that I should speak to the supervisor. But then she came back and told me that the supervisor was in a meeting. My mind stopped working now and I do not know how was I speaking or doing anything for that matter. I called Papa and told him that they were not allowing me to get on the plane. I don't how did he feel at that moment. But surely it was not comfortable for him either. I moved around uneasily hoping some one would do something. But all was in vain. I kept looking at my watch and the time in it was slipping away. My worst fears had come true. I was stuck all alone at the Heathrow.

Papa was calling repeatedly. But I could not speak much. The whole situation was so over-whelming. I learnt this word from my adsivor. During my first month he always asked that if I was over-whelmed by the American System. And I always lied to him that I was not. The staff was not ready to hear my part of story. They told me that it was Air India's fault that they got me down late. I just kept repalying their messages to Papa. It was now 1:00 p.m. and the plane was ready to take off. All I could do was to watch fly-off. I was stuck at Heathrow.

What really happen in Heathrow is still to come.

Part-1 Delhi Dard

A very inappropriate spot to actually record my first international flight experience. But from a computer illiterate person like me you can expect anything. I have no particular reason to write some about some memories which I would like to forget, but I guess if can utilize my free time that could benefit someone it would be great.

Enough of beating around the bush. Let me come to the crux. It was 8th August 2008. Months of hard work of my parents was about to be realized. Son going to US for higher studies I guess is the only goal for many Indian parents. Don't know about them but I felt like an Indian girl leaving her parental home to go to her in-laws house after her wedding. Just exaggerating. But yes the feeling is something similar after your mother puts Band-Aids at your ankles because the new pair of shoes that you had brought bruises your ankles every time you wore them.

Apologies for some incorrect english and being a little drab. But that is how any other Indian aka Desi is out here. My flight to US was 6:45 a.m. 8th August. I left my childhood, teenage and adulthood home after seeking blessings of my grandparents. While Baba was half asleep when he said "khush raho". Oh my eyes are welling as I write this. My Dadi, who was always against my decision, came out in the slight shower to see me for the last time. Although I never liked her long wet kiss on my forehead, somehow that day I wanted it to go on forever. Finally I saw my mother, whom I used to call Amita when I was 2 or 3 years old, my Badi Chachi and my Taoji, who called me usatad, for the last time. I hoped into the Qualis along with my Dad and we set off. It was 2.30 in the morning.

As the taxi rolled out of the corner of my gali, I remembered that I had forgotten my wrist watch. Bad omen. The qualis turned back to our house, Taoji came out with my only wrist watch (for 5 years now. Average American marriage last for about 1 or 2 years. Great Achievement) . By the why the sardarji was pissed off.

The qualis moved at good speed towards the airport. It started raining heavily. Again bad omen, I thought. My Dad sat besides me. He gave me tips about how to manage my baggage, how to be cautious about your stuff at the airports and how to keep his dollars safe. Yes his dollars. I owe everything about this whole journey to him. He was the pushing force that got me where I am.

We reached IGI at 3:30 in the morning. I put my two 20 kg bags on the trolley along with my cabin bag. I put the back pack on my back and the waist pouch around my slightly thickened waist. It was the time when my final and the most important relation was about to be left behind. I shook hands with Papa and moved into the terminal. He just said "bye".

As I entered the queue, a lady asked me which airline I was traveling with. I said "Indian Airlines". She told me to go to terminal H. I checked up the ticket and told her that it was "Air India". She enquired "you sure? Go to terminal G". I am like that. I goof up sometimes.

I entered the airport and searched for terminal G. By the way I was travelling to Sate College in Pennsylvania, USA via London and Philadelphia. The first leg was Delhi-London by Air India. I entered a long queue of people mainly consisting of Desis, many other Indian students travelling to US and a small bunch of pissed-off British and Americans for baggage tagging and security check.

I kept a close eye on the weight meter for the tagged baggage. The weight limit is 23 kg, though they allow a little extra as well. I was relieved when I saw that my bags were 21 and 20 kilos. They tagged the baggages till State College and I felt good. 

I came out for the last time to see my father. Papa is always very reassuring. The more I see him, the more confident I become. I always thought he loved my younger brother more than me but now I really feel that we exist mutually. This whole thing happened because I told him once that I wanted to go for higher studies. I never even bothered to schedule my GRE but he egged me on. This was his dream that he was realizing through me. This was his trip. And he just said "All the Best".

Back to the journey. I filled out an immigration form and got immigration clearance. The person at the immigration desk appeared very unfriendly. After all you don't find people friendly at 4:30 in the morning. But it was awkward. But that's the thing about all the Indians around the world. We are not very friendly to our own people. I jokingly thought his wife might be really tough nut for him.

Out of immigration. Now towards the hand baggage check. My cabin bag, my back pack and my waist pouch were all sent through some covered region. Unexpected the security guard told me that I had to open my cabin bag as there was something suspicious. I opened the bag and he took out two big boxes of medicines. He asked me what were theses medicines. I told him that these were routine medicines taken for travel purposes. Actually my Dad always packs me with medicines. He thinks I will get indigestion, viral and malaria at the same time. But I thought there was restriction about carrying the liquids. Meanwhile he called his senior pro and showed the boxes. The so called senior pro turned out to be an even bigger asshole. He said it was a case of narcotics. What the fuck? Headlines tomorrow "Passenger arrested for carrying Crocins, Brufen". I told him that these were normal medicines taken over the counter. The asshole again said that you not allowed to carry any. He then went through the medicines one by one. Crocin, Brufen, Dygien. I was stuck by the fact that he could at least read english. He then concluded the nothing looked like heroin or hashish so that he could book me and get credit for arresting a drug peddler. That was enough to send me in a tizzy. 

I collected my stuff and proceeded to the waiting lounge near the departure gate in a daze. I am not mentally very tough and that was more than enough for me. I frantically called my father and my senior in State College. Both of them assured that everything would be fine. Meanwhile the gates opened and it was the time to board the flight. 

As I proceeded to board the flight people from Air India checked my passport and boarding pass repeatedly. Finally I was in the air-craft. It was beautiful. Velvet covered seats, LCD for some entertain, Big TV screens, blankets and pillows. What not? The only low point was the absence of beautiful and sexy air-hostesses. Sorry, I am a true Delhite. They were middle aged, wrinkleful and fat. 

Inside the plane it was cold. I mean if a Delhi guy says it was cold so it means it was cold. I opened my bag and wore the jacket. As I did that a lady pointed to her husband that I did something unusual. Both smiled and giggled. A little embarrassed, I smiled back at them.

The scheduled departure time was 6:45 a.m. But the plane stood at the run way for around 45 minutes. Finally it started to run at 7:30 a.m. I just freak out when a plane takes off. I cottoned my ears and closed my eyes. This was not my first flight. But I just hate these traveling by air. I don't know why.

My journey had began after all. I will write more of what happened in London.