Deep down perhaps every Indian middle class young boy harbors a dream of visiting America. It is shaped in many cases by a desire to replicate relatives in the family who have been to the land or in most others by the exposure to soft culture of Archies, Hollywood and Mcdonalds. If you are a graduate techie being turned out of those myriad engineering colleges of India, then the US of A is your ultimate onsite destination.

Unlike the previous occasion, this time my journey to the airport from my house is smooth. That’s because my flight is before the mad rush hour at midnight and beyond and also because the day is dry and there aint any rain to clog Delhi roads. Check in is slow and it takes me 15 mins for reach the counter from the end of the line. It takes another 10 for the check in counter official to weigh my baggage and get my boarding pass out between his chuckles and jokes with a colleague.  There are somethings even a swanky modern airport cannot change.

The immigration officer is interested to know what Accenture (my employer) does. By now I am tired of giving this explanation – despite the huge sums that we spend on television advertising, people still do not know us. Or well at least the average common man doesn’t. Even the urbane ones who might be watching English news channels where our advertisements are a regular feature are clueless when the name is mentioned. Neither have past full page ads in newspapers been of any help. I am also tired of referring to the firm as the one with Tiger Woods ads. No one seems to have a clue about Woods. So now, I just let it be – I politely inform the immigration officer of our scope of services. He asks whether we are still recruiting. I sense this as an inquiry of an interested father for his kid than that of a customs official. He says the outlook is improving and that things shall change in the next few months. As evidence he points to the upward movement in the ‘market’. I want to believe him, I am flying to the States – someone must be needing my services.

Emirates has an in-flight entertainment system that simply captivates me. There is a good variety to choose from amongst movies, TV shows and songs (the 13 hour flight from Dubai to JFK had about 20 new movies on the menu along with countless older ones, including Hindi classics such as ‘Golmaal’ and ‘Chupke Chupke’). There is an informative section that tells you about the movement of the flight and metrics such as altitude, speed, time at the destination and the distance travelled. What takes the cake are the two cameras installed on the exterior of the plane whose live feed can be seen on the screen by passengers – the first camera is on the nose and the second on the underbelly. It’s a treat to switch either of those on during take off and landing. I didn’t miss my window seat on both the flights courtesy the cameras.

New York is cloudy and damp when I land. The last few minutes of the flight witness my attention being captured by an engaging conversation on the seats to my right between a US national of Somali descent and an white American lady from Florida. The Somali is bemoaning the state of his nation, his inability to meet with his Syrian wife and kids and the plight of his family back home. Conversation turns then to the scourge of piracy affecting the seas of the coast of Somalia and the lack of action by the international community to correct the state of affairs in the nation. It is difficult to escape the passion of the Somali as he stresses the failures of his nation and more so of those who could have prevented them from occurring.

‘Khanna as in Vinod Khanna?’ asks the woman at the prepaid taxi service counter at JFK upon seeing my passport. She is of Thai origin and finally helps me with a reservation after two of her colleagues tell me that their cabs don’t travel to the town where I am staying (Parsipanny in Jersey, an hours’ drive from NY). She informs me that she met Shatrughan SIngha at the JFK once and is aware how actively both the above mentioned actors are involved in politics.

There is a debate going on in America after President Obama subtly switched his stand on torture investigation and stated that Justice Department officials who approved of torture techniques may be investigated. It’s the first indication that the Bush administrationmay be hauled for its brave efforts to ‘change the world’. The Republicans of course are up in indignation and Dick Cheney has issued a war cry. On my cab drive, we are listening to a radio station which is blatantly Republican. The radio jockey after interviewing a dumb bimbette who claims she made her two daughters to run up and down a mile long road on a cliff so as to stop them from fighting each other, then proceeds to take calls. A caller says that torture is not what is done to Al-Qeda but what was done to victims of 9/11, that watching people jump from burning high rises is torture. This jockey then in a grave somber tone that sounds straight out of a campaign race proceeds to tell ‘American people’ that they are not safer than they were pre 9/11, that the current President has no stomach to fight enemies of the nation and that torture is done with the aim to achieve the ultimate good of ‘extracting information’. Next morning at breakfast I watch a Fox news telecast that is debating the same – it has three panelists on the show, two of whom are blatant republicans while one tries to strike a middle ground. The anchor again reminds us that torture yields information that is essential to save the country. The President is castigated by the Republican leaning panelists of succumbing to left wing liberals while deciding to investigate tortures. Listening to this debate, you wouldn’t be surprised that Americans are so reviled in the countries which are the worst sufferers of Islamic extremism. You would also not be surprised that despite 8 years of ‘war on terror’, the US still has no clue about the root causes of the threats faced by it.

 

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9th August: Coming to you somewhere from North America
Believe me when i say this, Gettting out of India aint easy...literally or metaphorically. They say outside that you cant take the India out of an Indian. Well, if your trying to catch a plane from the Indira Gandhi airport at New Delhi you can see a perfect demonstration of that state sponsored hospitality. No i did not miss my flight, in fact i reached the port a good two hours before the flight time. But on the way and till the time you actually board the plane, you heart wouldnt really be at rest. Thank god for we dont have asylum seekers running away from this nation...they would probably just collapse at the airport entrance.
So my airport misadventure began when i was a good 15 kms and 6 hours away from my flight time. As i left office that evening, the heavens decided it was the perfect time to open up and grace us with good weather. As yours truly had played weatherman in the morning and predicted that there wudnt be any rain (and thus consequently left his umbrella in the back of the car), he had to run half a kilometer in blinding rain. And voila, the moment i hit my car...yes yes the heavens stopped...so there was i, wet all over sitting in my car and driving like craxy back home..no wait, i wasnt going home..i was stopping at a sweet shop, cause sweets were needed at my destination for a wedding function. and i stopped at a grocery store to pick up 4 kgs (!) of rice cause you see, rice is still a lot cheaper in India despite all the inflation and all that nonsense spoken by Condi Rice and her President about Indians and the Chnese eating all the rice of the world up. So i dashed more and picked up the rice and the sweets, stacked them in the suitcase, saw myself being forcefed dinner by my neighbours (it was their grandson's birthday) and finally sat in the cab at 8.15 for a midnight flight just in time to see the heavens open again.

Now i wudnt have been cribbing here had i got to the airport all easy...but frankly fate chose that evening to make my tryst with every red light on the way to the airport (dont ask me the number, i gave up count after the 11th). It wudnt still have been bad if it hadnt been raining with vehicles crawling all along the floor. it would have all been forgivable if the cabbie hadnt committed that worst sin..despite my insistence, he took me from a construction site called Vasant Kunj instead of the slick and open Dhaula Kuan. Result - stuck for 45 mins trying to cross...ya you guessed it, a red light...i swear i cud have clubbed the cabbie right then and there, but i had an airport to go to and to be fair to him he picked up the pace and had me at the port within 15 minutes of crossing that light.
But that aint where the misery ends. Despite all the slickness inside the renovated airport, two things still make it unpleasant to leave India. Firstly, the approach roads are all jammed. Why we cant figure out a solution to that is beyond me...maybe we can have an underground car park where people get dropped...maybe wider roads..i dont know, but it kills when you see that it takes 20 mins to cross 800 mtrs and reach the point of drop from the main entrance.
And the second are the CISF people standing on the gates. Now i appreaciate the security concerns in the subcontinent, but does the guy have to read everything written on our passports and tickets? why dont they just match your name on the ticket and passport and let you in and let the check in guys from the airlines handle the rest? 15 mins to clear the line for the CISF check after you have taken the trolley. Which is all a shame, cause really once you are in, there really arent any pain points. Check in, immigration and security is smooth - it took me only 20 mins....and too at peak hour...
well i cud stop here but you wud accuse me of being anti-indian and enamoured by all the stuff that the goras put up. So let me speak of Paris, my stopover. The airport is huge and it takes 15mins just to go from one terminal to another. What helps are the multi-lingual directions and the courteous staff. Sadly, the coffee sucks. And yes even there, people dont queue up to board the aircraft, they have to be told to let the kids and the wheelchair passengers in first.

Courtesy was in short supply at Toronto. The security staff just at the exit of the aircraft cudnt believe i had come for a wedding; i then had to give my job credentials to her and explain what a Chartereted Account and Accenture meant. Heck, at Toronto even the immigration does not smile at you and for some reason they all wear police like uniforms. And for all their sophisitication, they took 45 minutes to get out baggage out - apparently because it was raining with the threat of lightening and all vehicular movement in the open was stopped!! And when the baggage came, many of the bags were wet!

The flights themselves i may not crib about much - guess there isnt much to when you watch two movies, an episode of friends and get to drink chardonnay and champagne...now only if they allowed to sneak some of those wine bottles out....

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