Visa part 2

So, where was I? Ah yes, I believe I was trying to show you how hard it is being me. Continuing from where I left off; So I am in the aircraft and I can see that this is not going to be the normal kind of flight, the people in this flight are mostly first time fliers or something, because every aspect of the plane seems to be fascinating them. Ever seen 60 year old grandmas with stained and or missing front teeth, going gaga-googoo over the scenery outside the window? all while standing in their aisle seats during takeoff? it is not a pretty sight folks. And for some reason, they all have shaved heads. Paranoia kicks in, what if these are the adherents of some obscure sex cult... what if they decide to release Sarin in the flight? or have an orgy, holy sweet mother of god, I think I would prefer that the plane just crash on its own.

I am sure there is no way they could have detected this sort of a plan, not in a country like India at least. And what do you know... the air hostess who was rude to me, is now struggling to make them remain seated. I am sitting in the last row, which according to my crazy crash phobic mind is the safest row in the aircraft. As soon as the pilot switches off the seat belt sign, fourteen, yeah you heard it right 14 of these middle aged, men and women, none of whom, save one, knows English, come to the back of the plane and make a line to use the loo. Now either their body functions are in sync, or they all couldn't wait to see what happens when you piss in an aircraft, does it fall down, hurtling through space striking random unfortunate old ladies [yeah, yeah, you must all have seen it, that image of a lady impaled by a yellow 'stick' purportedly frozen urine from an aircraft] just like our good old railways does it. Their motto: "Out of sight; Out of mind." Probably.



One gentleman looking especially lost, calls the air hostess. And then proceeds to ask her when the plane would land at Santa Cruz. And of the 40 or so people who heard it, I was the only one who burst out laughing. What is this? do we Indians lack a sense of humor? How the hell does one board the wrong plane? She then dutifully explains that the plane is in fact going to Delhi and not Bombay.

2 and a half Hours and many circles of Delhi later, our plane gets clearance to land on the new runway that opened recently, it is one of the longest in Asia, but do we have any cause for cheers? No! because it takes the plane another 15 minutes to reach the terminal from there. Now imagine this. The plane is taxiing, and its a bumpy ride, there are turns that need to be executed, and my awesome co-passengers are celebrating their return to hallowed Terra-firma by disregarding all safety procedures, one is trying to open the overhead compartment, endangering the heads of the passengers below, he gets a firm scolding and retreats amidst our laughter, all of them are calling up their homes to inform them that the plane has landed. Another line is forming for the the last chance at going to the 'plane toilet.'

Boy am I glad to be back on ground, ah, Delhi is a relaxing 35 DEGREES CELSIUS!!! in the middle of the monsoon. They open the aircraft door and hot air starts rushing in, trying to impress its dominance upon us mere mortals. What the hell am I doing here? I haven't been to Delhi in 14 years and I feel like I am a foreigner the minute I step out of the airport. To be continued...

Trip 2, day 1

So I am back at last, it feels nice to be home.
My trip was great, I learned a lot, and I saw parts of the country I would otherwise never have seen.

Here is a short description of my trip in brief, short owing to my laziness.

Started off on the 15 morning flight to Kolkata, and straightaway disaster struck when I forgot to carry my cell along with me. I personally would like to put the blame squarely on the alignment of the stars in the heavens at that fateful moment when I left for the airport, although I am sure no one will buy that. pffttt!!!!!

I was impressed by the new airport, well... impressed enough to do that gay looking head tilt thing which is often accompanied by the pulling down of your lips and a lifting of the eyebrows. aarghh! you know what I am talking about.

Kolkata airport on the other hand looks like a bus terminal, like how the old Bombay airport used to look. giving you a first hand experience of what a person suffering from claustrophobia might feel like; enclosed in a box. I took a pre-paid taxi to Howrah junction, and the taxi driver coolly dumped me at the edge of the Ganges (they call it 'hoogly' there) and ordered me to take a ferry to the other side.

"You! take the ferry, I can't come till Howrah" he seemed to say.


Not pictured: a safe and stable means of transportation.

Howrah Jn. is right across the ferry 'stop' and is a huge station with absolutely no one to tell you where your train will arrive. There are 20+ platforms and a road runs right through it. The electronic display then showed that my train would arrive on platform 11, it finally arrived on platform 10.

I reached Jasidih at 11 in the night, and there were almost 2000 devotees of some temple at the station waiting to go home, they had taken over the station filling every inch of available space with their bodies and bags and filling every cubic inch of air with the sweet, sweet smell of pure, grade 1 hash, alas, I had no time to ask one of them for a drag.


Note the absence of our hash smokers.

Then we had a 4 hour ride to Dumka where I was to stay. Dumka is about 65 kilometers away from jasidih, but the road is awful, hence the absurd traveling time. I was greeted by the Trust members and we sat in a Maruti omni for the trip to Dumka.

I was scared out of my wits:
The driver was drunk, and unaware of the speed limit.
The driver was under the impressin that he was in the US and hence insisted on driving on the right the whole way to Dumka.
The omni is notoriously unstable.
There were no street lights at all.
There were no Policemen about.
And not to mention the naxals.
The people might not even have know what a hospital was.
The trust members looked like they were the 'molesting' types.

The only saving grace was my white belt karate training and the fact that it was a full moon night.

Somewhere along the way it started, dark heavy clouds, the kind of I have never seen before, started moving in from the direction we were traveling in. Relative velocity meant that the clouds looked like they were using rockets to get to us, quicker. What surprised me about the clouds however, was their thickness. They completely blocked out the moon. Nothing shined through. And, they covered the whole sky; plunging us into darkness, and then of course; it started raining as if it were the end of the world.

Scary as hell.

After 4 excruciating hours of sheer panic and the muttering of fervent prayers promising a cessation of smoking on my behalf, we reached Dumka and in a single piece, that too.

The relief; Thank you Jesus!

So here I was in the middle of nowhere, just earlier in the day I was at home, in Hyderabad, familiar ground, my territory. Life is inscrutable isn't it ?


The street that greeted me that night.
Note: This is the main street in Dumka.

That was day 1.