I entered Professor X's office last friday afternoon with a beating heart and anxious face.

"I wanted to tell you something which I think I should have told you before but if I did you wouldn't have let me do it-"

His face became immediately stern as he took a half circle on his revolving chair to face me, leaving the important half written email mid way.

"What is it Tanja. Tell me straight and quick."

"I-I participated in this competition, and I got selected in the top finalists of the nation, and now they want me to participate in the final event in Texas next week. And I need your signature on this form so that I can go-"

"I will not sign it. This, this is wrong. Very wrong..And it's not the first time, you know it. When you did it in the first semester, without my permission went ahead to submit things, I tried hard to understand and forgave you because you were new...But now? Again? No, no, don't say it's a little thing. I don't care about that. I know it's a small thing for me to sign it and I don't care about it. It's about honesty. You're not honest with me. You want to hide things from me. On purpose. This is not good. Not good at all. You should have asked me in the first place. Yes, okay, maybe I would have said "no". But then an advisor must have a reason to say no, right? Then we could have argued. At least we wouldn't have to see this day. Now this is all so messed up. See Tanja, you made a mistake, you must pay for it. You must withdraw your entry from the competition. Your attitude is not right, Tanja. You push people, it makes them so uncomfortable. I can't review your thesis on your schedule. There's no time left, your defense is coming near, and you've nothing in hand. Look at XuXu, he has submitted his thesis to the committee already and his defense is later than yours. He started working on it in December and you began in March? This is not gonna work, Tanja. You've to change if you want to do well. Listen, I know you're gonna leave this university, no, no don't say anything, I can see that in your eyes. Your heart is not here anymore. That's fine, I've hired the Japanese girl anyway. But mark this, this is my personal advice to you. Wherever you go, you'll have a new advisor. He/She may not tolerate this attitude of yours. Ok? I'm telling you this because I've known you. You are bright, Tanja. And it seems you love this profession very much, you'll become a good professor one day. But only if you're honest and nice to people. Otherwise success in future will be hard. And you're my student, no matter where you go, my name will always be on your resume. I don't want to hear bad things happened to you later in your career. This is a small research community we're in. Everyone knows everyone. I want you to think and aim far, not waste your time in these petty competitions. Okay? Respect people. I hope you remember my advice."

And with that he turned his back to me to stare at the half-written email he had left behind to lecture me. Yesterday, I felt like things had come to an end. It was 3 PM when I came out of his office and I felt shattered, broken. For a few moments I realized perhaps he's right. Perhaps I won't be a great, successful  person in the classical sense of these terms.  And besides I didn't have a single PhD offer in my hand and I was about to be kicked out from the Jaali university within 2 months or so. Sometimes, you know, life is so dark around you, that it's not just blinding, it's suffocating.

But then, I reasoned myself. I said, "Well, it doesn't matter. Prof. X had already screwed my letter of recommendations. And if success means sucking feet of lame men by being a silent, laborious slave, then I don't want that kind of success. Nahi chahiye vaisi kamyaabi. I'll be better back in India, in my own room, alone, with a book in hand. A book like "Catcher in the Rye". And then I would write my own, and maybe publish it you know. But I can't do that diplomacy to win people. I'll never be a ruler of a reign. I was and always be a warrior. An amazon. Who fights by principles and dies in courage. I will not yield to incompetence. This life is just a story of this steep descent." But even then, the stark fact haunted me for two hours that life's gonna be harder if you're gonna continue making enemies and if you continuously refuse to respect people. But why should I respect them, these phonies?

Anyway, at 5pm, at the darkest hour of my life, I received a phone call. It was from the Awesome university I had visited a few weeks ago. And the professor that I was interested in working with was saying, "Tanja, congratulations. You've been awarded two fellowships for your PhD, which will cover your entire tuition fee and stipend. I would love if you could join my group, we would be able to do a lot of great things together. And, no, no, you don't have to tell me anything right now. Do not at all feel pressurized to decide, I'm sure that with credentials like yours, you must be having a couple of options and you might be waiting from other schools. So take your time, I would look forward to see you join us but feel free to let us know in two weeks, okay?"

"You just made my Friday night," I crackled on phone as a tear smeared down my cheek.

# I was fighting with my professor over an issue as usual and the conversation was now coming to an end. Professor X stood there, looking down at me with a stolid face and fiery eyes, and his lip trembled as he finished our talk with his pet line, "Don't argue with me." 

Swimming is impossible for me. I just can't swim. I don't know why.

Yeah, no kidding.

These days, I always wonder about these questions no matter I'm free or busy. They just haunt my mind every now and then. I wonder why?

Q#1 Why do some people still think that life in US is like this?

Q#2 Why that little hot chick in the gym is usually reviewing her chemistry notes while running on the jogging machine?

Q#3 Why my average of words/day output of fiction writing is so terribly less?

Q#4 Why my Chinese peers are just SO DAMN GOOD at everything (researching/sporting/flirting)?

Q#5 Why I miss Her so much?

Q#6 Where do the ducks go when the lake is frozen? No, really, where do they really go?

Q#7 Why the roads are so goddamn slippery?

Q#8 Why every casual sentence spoken by Holden Caulfield has so much depth in it? How?

Q#9 What does a Chick mean when she emails and say, "We ought to do lunch sometime!"

Q#10 What's the bloody meaning of ought anyway?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger (Still)
Current Music: "Dilli..." from No One Killed Jessica

My terribleness follows me like a Shadow. It swoops in almost every event that transpires in my life.

# Science? 
I had submitted a poster 'just-for-fun' for an environmental/sustainability conference which was asking for submissions. I did it in like just 5 hours and send it on the last day. One of the mistakes I did was I never discussed it with my advisor. I should at least taken her advice if not permission (which was infact the most important thing)

But when someone told me that you can't simply send out research stuff by writing your professor's name without consulting her first. It could be sensitive data or data which is not ready to be shared yet. I got a bit scared and just hoped that ofcourse yeah they are not going to accept my silly poster.

And guess what, they did. Bless them.

Then they offered a financed trip to Atlanta in the first week on January, 2011 with the host (Georgia Tech) providing good accommodation and everything in a nice hotel for 4 days. I was elated the day I got that email. But then, my terribleness came into the picture. I had to finally, reluctantly tell everything to my advisor who was kind of  'shocked, not-very-happy' and she gave me some long lectures and told things which made me realize how big mistake I had made. I had sent out the research results without even asking the entire team and she explained, "You're too young now, its just your 1st sem, its too early to put out results, don't worry you'll have a lot of conferences in your career."

And I withdrew from the offer.

# Love? 
Over the past few months in this new land, I had strange encounters with the undergraduate (ug) kind. Especially the female types.

- There was this American blonde ug chick who asked me out for lunch one day. I was sort of blank faced for 20 seconds after which she added, "Only if you're okay with it, I will join you". Then we went to teh lunch in a nice place (I don't know if I have described all this in a previous post, I really don't remember), and she was telling me all sorts of crazy stories including the ones in which she and her friends got so much drunk one Friday night, that her she-friend took off her top in front of everyone and then didn't remember anything about doing such a thing the next day when she woke up.

After that she asked me, "Are you a social drinker?" I hesitated, after which she added, "Do you drink, at all?"

My ideal answer should have been, "Hell yeah, what's life without alcohol?" Instead I told the truth and said, "Umm, no." After knowing that she began to behave a bit differently with me in class, although she still sits next to me. Thank you terribleness.

- Then there is this weird Chinese chick who has been having some close encounters. She doesn't really get tired of waving hands at me whether its the outside of the library or the inside of my department or even if its bloody long corridor. Whenever I see her, or I go past her, I see a hand propped up in air and a smile spread on her face welcoming my existence. But then I discarded all these signs considering the fact that some people are just really cheerful and friendly. Too BLOODY FRIENDLY.

But then my doubts were assured when yesterday I met her on my way to the lab and she appeared there, with a propped hand and a plastered smile and asked me,

"Are these your new glasses?"
"Wuh? uh? Umm, yeah," (I was left shocked as nobody in the entire frikking town recognized that I bought new glasses, cuz they pretty much look the same as my old ones, and yes if you remember well I had to order new glasses online due to this.)

"Well, how did you know? I mean, how'd you notice?" I asked.

"It has gray...bla bla..earlier was black..." and she added a lot of other technical information which I didn't hear as I was too busy being shocked at her power of observance.

"Oh um okay. okay c u then," I said and tried to escape my stalker (totally different stalker from this one)

"Btw, you know your glasses are awesome," she smiled as wide she could before I turned my back to her.

That line kept ringing for quite a bit in my mind but then I thought I shouldn't waste too much time thinking about Americans and Chinese, cuz there is a Indian out there, far away, waiting for me.

And since she is there for me, so I could really care less.

# Happy Halloween. Happy Diwali. I know I am pretty late. Back at home, at this point of year, I was usually found wailing for crackers and trying to eat the sweets before the 'pooja'. And this time I didn't even realize when Diwali came and went. But that's OKAY.

# Although I did realize the happening of Halloween. Only thing serious in this festival is that the chicks look more hot and much slutty, other than that everything else is funny and childish. And so yeah, it was pretty much fun. I have some pictures for you people but I am sorry they lack a lot of good snapshots which my eyes captured. Sorry, no hot-glamorous stuff for you tonight. But that's OKAY.

Pictures --> They are deep down.

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Da Crowd.

One of the Haunted Houses.

Real Ghost Captured on Night of Halloween ;p

# My undergraduate assistant begins to feel queasy every Friday evening around 6 pm, so I try my best to free him early at least on that day of the week. His GPA is his UG is much greater than what I got in my UG. But dat's OKAY.

# He can do differentiation, integration and other tricks much better than me. But that's OKAY.

# Lately I have been fascinated with what a microwave can do. (Please don't be so judgy and make any inferences that 'what a poor guy, never seen a microwave before in life', although you could be true on that one ;p) So I have been trying to cook and heat almost everything in the microwave. From drinking a glass of water in the morning to the my daily 2 minute meals on which I have been living so far. But dat's OKAY.

So my recent exploit was that I put a plastic packet of cookies in it. I thought I even want my chocolate biscuits to be warm when they kiss my tongue. After 20 seconds I heard some cracking and popping sound and when I tried to peer in, I saw a flame burning inside. LoL.


I put the office microwave on fire, yeehaw.

And then I doused it and ate hot chocolate cookies covered with a thin layer of carcinogenic melted plastic compounds. And the spent the rest of the day wondering how soon will I die. But I didn't die. But dat's OKAY.

Morale: Never let Monkeys use advanced equipment.

# Koi jatan ab kaam na aave
Uss kachu sohat naahin
Mora piya mu se bolat naahin
Mora piya mu se bolat naahin

# The Play
I went to a musical German play a few days back in the public auditorium (which is quite huge with an enormous seating capacity (~1000) and triple balconies :O) of the city in hoping to see have some fun and also see some serious acting. I had a bleak idea that the play was about teenage issues n stuff but as the play moved on, I realized it was just way too much focused on 'those' issues.

It had everything, lol. From child abuse to young love. From masturbation to abortion. They even had a full one minute song dedicated to masturbation where they actually and visually taught 'how' to do the act. Half of the audience (~females) was giggling. I felt strange. Any guy would have felt weird. But the weirdness had just begun, it was getting pretty intense with every passing moment.

I could get most of the dialogue, but I didn't understand a single word of the songs they sang cuz of too much difference in accent. I decided I shouldn't spend money on musicals and maybe find something serious n dramatic to watch. Because this one was funny but weird.

So, near the end, there is this young couple who come to the center of the stage and show that losing virginity at 16 is not a bad thing. And then they take off their clothes (ewww, though only above waist but still ewww) and have the 'stuff' in the center of the stage where lights are NOT dimmed. They finish in about a minute and near the climax of their 'stuff', lights go out and it ends.

A lot of parents brought their teenage daughters and sons to the show, so that the gap between them could narrow and they better understand the adolescence issues. But I think the parents prolly ended up showing their kids exactly what they had avoided from them all these years. Well, that's the smartness of that sensual play, after your 13 yr old kid goes through it, the kid knows everything.

# The Date
There is another funny event going on in campus which is called 'Speed Dating' where a lot of single people turn up and sign up. They are allotted numbers after that and tags n stuff I guess. Then they meet upto 50 people, each for 3 mins and have a lil date kinda thing. After every meeting, they keep noting the number of the other person if they like him/her. At the end, everyone submits the numbers they would prefer to meet again and submit it to the organizers. The organizers then analyse the data, and 'hook-up' the people whose numbers match i.e. the people who 'liked' each other (yeah the facebook like and not this like)

# The Bath

See? Even your mom likes such baths.

I am exploring the bathing pleasures these days. I always wanted to have those sensual and relaxing baths in a bathtub. There is a big showroom in the mall here dedicated towards "Bath and body works" and they have a variety of bath gels and scents. I am trying bubble soaps and things like "Epsom Salts" which soothe your nervous system and take care of any muscle pain or soreness. 20 minutes of such an enriching experience in a bathtub is something I really look forward to every weekend after an exhausting week. If you're reading this, you can prolly give this thing, at least, one try. There is nothing like floating in a rosy, foamy, scented hot water. I am planning to add candles and some light music in coming weeks.

I could feel that man's warm breath gently brushing past my right cheek. His exhalation and inhalation were absolutely uniform, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm. The longer his face stayed so close to mine, the higher my uneasiness grew. Not to say about the red light he was shining in my right eye since the past 40 seconds.

Finally he wheeled back on his swivel chair and said, "Hmm, okay the next test now."

I let out a sigh of relief on having my optician off my face and remembered the day it had all begun. It started recently when the letters and numbers on the blackboards of my classes began to blur. I knew I had to get an eye exam but I was delaying until now. After finding the cheapest deal in the city, on which my health insurance gave some discount, I finally had found time to take the eye exam.

All the time I had cursed the healthcare, eye-care and such stuff since it was so costly in US but now when I actually went through the examination of my ENTIRE eye, I was convinced that it was worth the cost. The doctor spend around 45 minutes on me and did a whole lot series of tests which I had never heard of. That's another thing, that this one eye exam has changed a lot in my life.

After a lot of boring and long sessions of guessing my vision defect by showing a hell lot of skewed images, the doctor gave my first shock. He told me that I was suffering from something called "Astigmatism" and till now I have been wearing incorrect glasses. This first shock of being diagnosed with a new disease was subdued when he said that its pretty normal and can be easily corrected by a kind of lenses.

"But when your new glasses with the new subscription come out, you gonna hate me, at least for two days because your vision will be all groggy," the doctor said with a dramatic tone.

I was already beginning to feel that there was something queer about this particular eye doctor and I was sure of it after a few minutes. Because this first shock was nothing compared to the second shock that came and shook me and my life.

After a series of another tests which included dropping stingy and weird liquids in my eyes, he pulled out a large sheet with four technical sketches of a human eye.

"These are the four stages of a human eye. This first one is the normal eye, everybody has it like this. When suffering from a particular disease, the structure begins to change and a person shifts to stage two and then the eye looks like this. The fourth stage, can you see, how distorted that is? That's the final stage of X," he lectured and allowed me some time to grasp and make sense of what he was saying. I also asked some doubts and I made sure I could now answer any question based on those sketches.

Once I had nodded to indicate that I had understood so far and he could now proceed to teach me more, he blurted out the bloody fact,

"And guess what? You're on stage four," he said and watched my face with the most serious look.

"Wh-what? Why? I am suffering from X? But what is this X?" words that left my mouth were staggered and ill-structured.

"X is a disease which slowly leads to complete blindness," he said in a calm tone, just like stating a fact or writing a death sentence.

"B-but it can be cured right?"

"No, X has no cure. But yes, it can be managed," he said with an expressionless face, not allowing me to make any inference from his statements.


I stayed silent for a few seconds and then he filled the silence between us with a smile and some assuring words, "But, but, but, BUT, I said your condition is at stage four it doesn't mean you are diagnosed with X. The good news is your bla bla is quite huge. I mean, its gigantic as compared to normal people. Its very strong. So that bla bla could be the reason why I am getting a number higher than normal. But again it could be X too."


I didn't know whether to feel good or bad. I just stayed silent, my eyes and ears urging to hear more. My heart skipped a few beats and I was breathing fast now. The small room's walls at the clinic were suddenly beginning to crash upon me.

He continued after a pause, "SO, X is very rare at your age of 21. It usually occurs at old age or people having such such diseases. But then it could occur at your age as well, we can't say. Since I don't know your old records and you haven't been ever tested for this before, I can't say whether you have moved from stage 1 to stage 4 over the time - which means you are suffering from X OR you're born with stage 4 and your bla bla large size is giving me higher range numbers."

"S-so what does it mean?"

"It means I will put you under surveillance condition. You will have to get regular eye exams in order to verify whether your number is increasing or not, whether you are indeed moving up the stages or not. If you're not, well then its just because your bla bla is huge and its because of that, so no worries there."

"How often do I need to take a test?"

"Atleast once a year would be adequate. Okay so you're good to go. Anymore questions?" he said and pulled back his chair.

I wanted to ask a whole bunch of questions and have a long discussion with him in which he could assure me that I was all right but then nothing much came to my mind so I stayed blank face.

"Did I confuse you to death with all that jargon and technical terms?" he asked with a mild pity on his lips.

"No, I got it. But you scared me a bit," I said, like making a plea before a judge.

"Well," he hunched up his shoulders in a manner of justifying himself, "I just believe that you should know the truth about your health. You should be in control of your own life."

I exited the clinic, my mind swinging. On my way back, while sitting in the bus, I was looking the greenery and all those pretty sites which I daily see and then thought, "One day, I won't be able to see them?" Fear and worry struck me like it had before but this time the intensity was higher.

Then after a few hours, I remembered all other people in the world and their conditions and their rare problems. And compared to them, I thought, I am nothing. I am not even diagnosed with X yet. I might have it and I will know about that for sure after one year. And even I have it, I can manage it with proper medication. All those people did fight it, right? So I am. I am going to fight it.

Either you can get scared of a situation and hide your face in your pillow and tell n oone about it. OR, you can come out, yell and say, "I am going to fight it."

People like Helen Keller, Lance Armstrong, Stephen Hawking did fight, didn't they? But one thing I have realized today is, its easier to fight off a financial burden and seek success, because you know your financial problems will be taken care of after success and thus you have the right motivation. I am no more in any kind of financial burden, but there were times in my childhood when I lived under a temporary roof that leaked, that's completely another story. But I am saying that its much difficult to fight a medical problem and still do something in your life. Because for a few hours, I had lost complete motivation to do anything in my life. I just wanted to lie down and rest. I wanted to stop running.

But no, I am not going to sit back. I am going to fight it. There will be a post after an year about my results. Either I am clean or am not.  Even if that means waiting for one year for one test I can do nothing about and which will decide my fate, I will fight. I am in control of my life.

Are you?

I checked the bus timings and my wrist watch one last time before I grabbed my bag and jacket and made a run for the main door. The exit door of the building was a few meters ahead and I had to reach the bus stop within 60 seconds. Because 60 seconds is the time the bus takes to reach the stop closest to my building from the bigger stop where it is scheduled to arrive at 10:11 PM.

I glanced my watch again as I pushed the heavy steel exit door with my tired hands. The minute hand was slightly past 11 minutes and the second hand was moving effortlessly towards the completion of another goddamn minute. The moment I stepped out of the artificially heated structure and stepped on the bare concrete pavement, a cold wind brushed past my ears, reminding me that I had forgotten to employ my jacket's hood. Straggling with my loose bag and flowing jacket, I managed to wear my hood and cover more distance towards the stop.

I saw the bus coming from the other side. It rode the pavement with a considerable effort and engaged itself against me in a 200 meter parallel sprint towards the final destination - the bus stop. I could hear my own cold escalated breath and the crunching sound of fallen leaves beneath my stamping feet. I realized the beginning of fall.

Not much later, about 30 seconds after, I made it to the stop and climbed the bus. The driver nodded and smiled at me in a manner athletes often do after finishing a race. But it wasn't him that caught me off gaurd. It was something else.

It was this strong stench flooded in the bus that caught me and my nostril hair off gaurd. The stench of alcohol. And noises and shrieks too.

Friday, Alcohol, What else? I thought and moved on.

I moved past many shoulders to find a seat at the back side of the bus, where nobody was daring to go and sit and why so, I don't know why. But I came to know the answer of 'why', soon after. The back side was more or less taken by the people who had troubled the olfactory receptors of the sober commuters. Making my way past drunk, shabby haired, half dressed undergrad girls and boys, I found a seat in the corner but before I could find some rest from the sprint I had a minute ago, I found myself talking to a guy who was having a normal Friday.

Guy: Whoa dude, so you been studying?
Me: Uhm, yeah? (I looked at my bag I had now kept in my lap and nodded)
Guy: Wow. You're studying till 10pm on a Friday and am getting drunk. 
Me: Well, no-not really..
Guy:I will be prolly working for you someday. 

Me: huh?

And then he broke the conversation in the same sudden manner he had started it. I took some time to figure the last line he spoke to me and pretended busy in my own thoughts. Then their was a she-friend of this guy, who was talking pictures of herself and her gang and yelling to everyone, "I am 21 and I can drink, how about you?".

I looked at my bag once again and of all those things that I did on this Friday and all those boring things that I will be doing on this Friday night. Then I thought I am 21 too.

But am I living my age? Are we all living our age? Are we living? At all?

Following is a collection of my observations of the new things and people around me.

--> Crowd is really hot, hot, hot, hot AND hot here. You can call it TASHAN. Like imba, you know? And not just the girls, the guys are hot too ;) I kinda *love* the summers.

--> People in my town have some weird problem of jogging whole day. No matter what's the time. Early morning or late night or mid-afternoon with a scorching sun on top or evening or any time of day, you always find people jogging around. Whether its the campus or the town sidewalks. There are always hot guys and gals jogging. Nice muscles and abs.

--> If you're new and trying out new stuff at food joints. You will often leave the place cursing, "Damn did I really spend 4 dollars n 35 cents on that shitty thing?" Nevertheless it doesn't stop me from repeating the same mistake the next day albeit over another food item.

--> I swipe my ID card to access the door to my office. Technology? Hell yeah.

--> I just got this email on my official university address. "Hello friends, newcomers, and welcome to another eventful year at X

We, the cabinet of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgendered, Ally, Alliance are pleased to inform you that our semester is starting off next Wednesday with our annual Ice Cream Social.  This year it is sponsored by the LGBT Student Services and will begin at 6 PM on the brick outside of the bla bla.  Our first meeting will involve some ice breaking activities, which will take place in a relaxed setting that the Alliance strives to provide for all interaction.

And so, SOMEHOW I have reached US of A. As I type this, I am well settled in my nice apartment at my overly nice city(perhaps next blog post on this topic). Overall the trip was quite fruitless. I mean it had nothing I had expected from it. Nothing at all when compared to my expectations. Of course it had some weird events on the way but no big fruit in the end. Because I was expecting quite paranormal stuff to happen while I was in mid-air. But naah, no aliens came to hijack the plane. The fairies did not appear out of nowhere. The demons and witches did not stop by. And on the top of it all, our plan didn't hit turbulence and we did NOT crash in some unknown island. We did not get lost.

Duh, pretty fruitless.

The boring life continued and nothing extraordinary happened. Nothing much exciting (except at Chicago where my ticket was declared fraud->see below). I have finally reached a new place and have to do studies etc.

But anyway, I do have a few memories to share with you people. I wish I could write down my entire trip here but I can't because I have slightly forgotten it and also you will get bored. So let me just give you a few snippets of the things I observed.

1. The Random Terrorist Check Interview.
   
2. The Germans
   
3. The Chinki Brothers
   
4. Chicago from Above.
   
5. "Your travel agency is fraud sir, your name is not on the flight."
   

 The Random Terrorist Check Interview.
I reached the sleek new terminal T3 at New Delhi in time and my parents made sure that I was loaded with clothes and accessories to the maximum so that the bags in my hand won't exceed the baggage limits (which already were exceeding, anyway). I looked around and people and chix were dressed so casually and lightly but I was dressed like a snowman ready to conquer Alaska. I hauled up my 3 bags worried that if people nearby were staring at my clothing (which they totally were) and somehow cleared up with the long line of the people taking the flight with me. I was getting my boarding passes done (I needed 3 of them), only 2 were made yet and suddenly their computer flashed or something and they stamped my two passes and asked me to follow some police lady. I was supposed to be perhaps handed over the third boarding pass from Chicago to my final destination but it didn't happen and I guess that's what responsible for #5. Anyway, so the lady explained to me,

Police Lady (PL): Follow me for the Random check interview of passengers.
Me: Huh?
PL: Everyday 5 or 6 people out of the thousands who travel daily are specially interviewed for security purposes. The computer assigns that.
Me: Uh? But (Face full of sweat and tension now)
PL: Oh its nothing, its nothing. The officer will ask just a few simple questions, don't worry, it's routine.

 And that assurance of her made me doubt this random interview even MORE. True story.

 So I was led into this special interrogation room where already a black man was getting interviewed. They were grilling him why he was carrying 60kg excess of baggage. And I guess he was not cool about disclosing the bags to these people and was trying to leave the airport. I was seated in front of a very stern looking bald Indian officer who began questioning me very sternly.

 He asked me a few of questions like,
"Where to?"
"Why US"
"What for in the univ?"
He was pretty cold in all these questions perhaps because all this time he was busy making all kinds of scratches on my Visa and passport. He was checking the authenticity of every part of my passport. Then,
"Which univ you studied before?"
"Bla blah blu"
"Oh that's a reputed university!" (His tone became a lil casual)

 Then he handed me over my passport and said smilingly,
"Btw, your hair looks like a porcupine, ;)."

I exited the interrogation room with my passport in one hand and hand bag in other with an idiot like grin. This hairstyle and the comment was just the beginning of a new era.

The Germans
When my flight landed at Frankfurt, Germany I had an excited and great time to see the airport for 3.5 hours. I very much intended to shop there. I had bought a chocolate like thingy at the large shopping complex in Delhi airport and now it was a Swiss chocolate that took my heart here at Germany. Also I wanted to shop just for the sake of saying "Yes I have shopped around a few continents…" So all this while roaming around the airport I found the Germans to be quite amusing. These German ladies were all hot and stuff. Redheads, you know? So they were like RED HOT. I had this imaginary conversation with a young hot german lady (YHGL).

YHGL: Qaustro quastro pero.
Me: Quastro quastro you're hot.
YHGL: Quastro quastro this is your first time in a developed country isn't it?
Me: Quastro quastro yes, indeeeeeeeeed. So there are others like you?
YHGL: Quastro quastro indeeeeeed.
ME: Quastro quastro, great, I look forward to more imbaness.

 I left her alone then and wandered around to look for other Germans. There was this Gothic-druggist-gay type young man and he was quite hot too. He could have played a Dracula in any upcoming paranormal movie. But Germans were a bit loud. Not much, but yeah a bit. When I tried to talk to the airport staff when I was searching for my terminals, one german lady kinda told me stuff so loud that everyone around was staring at us or me. Lol.


The Chinki Brothers
I found these two guys from Nepal who were on same route Delhi-Frankfurt-Chicago and we 3 kinda stayed together most of the time. One was the Elder Chinki, 4 years elder to me and was going for some ultra noob university. His and mine major were coincidentally same but when I heard his univ's name I almost asked him "How did you get your Visa approved?". But he was all like in Nepal they are allowing easily this time. And then this Younger Chinki was 4 years younger to me and was going to some unknown university for his undergrad. Wierdos both of them.

 But of course, not weirder than me. ;p

Sample, of course.

One thing I didn't like about Chinki brothesr was that in middle of our conversation they often started using their native language and I was all left like, "Huh wtf are you saying ppl," and then it came to their minds after a few minutes that they should speak in hindi. Their English sucked badly. When I say badly I mean even worse than mine. Now you can judge yourself.

 But the thing I liked about them was their love for Bollywood. They could praise it endlessly. Even on the plane out of the 30 or so top Hollywood movies, they chose to watch the only one available Bollywood movie (some flop one) on their entertainment centers. And on this flight, they were sitting apart and still they watched exactly the same movie. I was like "LoL, how could you watch it.." And they were like, "Oh it was so funny!" and continued their praise for Bollywood. They also told me how expensive the dollar was for them because their rupee was quite weaker to the Indian rupee. If my ticket was for 50k rupees their's was for 75k :O

It happens rarely but that time I felt proud of being an Indian.


Chicago from Above
While aboard I tried to sleep most of the times or read my book. I partially watched the movie "How to train your dragon" and I found it pretty cool. Some of the scenes were so mesmerizing and analogous to the view outside my window (I had window seat yay :D) Like in the movie the kid was exhilarated driving his dragon so I too clapped in excitement when I saw the thin wings of the plan slicing through the huge clouds. It was like wafting over mountains of cotton or perhaps snow. And when we neared Chicago as our plane began to descend, I was able to see those huge sky scrapers of the city. They looked so majestic. I wanted to write the description of the aerial view of the city then and there only. One line that I formed in my mind was something like this,

"The skyscrapers were pieces of tall, cold steel on the face of flat, warm earth."

Then I nudged my Elder Chinki brother and said, "Hey see the view outside! Wow! the buildings!" He gave the most dispassionate and not-interested brief glance and resumed his preparation for the landing. I was all like perhaps he too being a civil engineer might like the view outside and understand my feelings for the structures. I was all crazy on seeing those huge structures. But this guy clearly wasn't. He had a lot of issues actually.

Like the entire time, he wore his seat belts. LOL. And when the plane landed or took off he used to hold the side handles of his seat and sit up straight. I was like, "C'mon, we won't die so soon."


"Your travel agency is fraud sir, your name is not on the flight."
Till I reached Chicago the trip was quite awesome and I had a nice time making fun of everything and everyone around me. But after seeing me act like a smartass for a long time, the God guy gave my life a little twist. Yeah a LITTLE twist. I had around 3 hours at Chicago airport to catch my last connecting flight out of which more than 1 hour was wasted at the Customs line where I nearly escaped nabbing by a lady and her smelling doggy. The smelling small doggy was moving around the line and sniffing everyone's bags. He passed mine and I got a sigh of relief but the Elder chinki guy's bag made him stop wagging his tail so there were some problems. I don't know what happened later with his cuz at this point, our paths had diverged.

Then I checked in my bags for the next flight and when I reached the counter to Check in MYSELF, here's how the convo between me and a rude bald American guy went:
Guy: Which flight you are on? (Scanning my passport)
Me: The UA@#$ at bla bla to bla bla..
Guy: Nope, you are'not.
Me: Huh? But my e-ticket has #$%@$#@$ $ @#$
Guy: I am looking at the ticket in the computer and you have no such booking sir.
Me: I booked through MAKEMYTRIP guys and how it is possible??
Guy: Your travel agency is fraud sir, your name is not on the flight. Sorry you need to redo the whole thing and go to terminal 1.

He returned my passport and disappeared. At that very moment, all the fun and excitement vanished in thin air. I was like, "Ohkay, now you're getting to me, USA" So it was like, my baggage was already sent to the next flight BUT I wasn't. So I ran here and there and finally found a special counter where people could address their problems. A long queue was there and I somehow got my boarding pass made and entered the flight just 5 mins before they closed gates. I think it was probably because of the event that happened at the Delhi airport.

All sweaty and tired and full of jet lag and thirsty as I finally sat on the domestic plane, I grabbed what they offered me shortly afterward. I opted for some can of Apple and Cranberry juice with an empty glass full of crushed ice. It was refreshing. After a few minutes I noticed it had "Cocktail" written all over it. I thought I had tasted alcohol kinda thingy. So I asked the American sitting next to me,

"This isn't beer right?"

He laughed at me and said that it was just juice.


I was like, "Ohkay, anyway I have taken too much stuff upon myself today. So whatever."

Just an example what I mean by Indian Saints

Example of Namaste. Also, your weekly dose of hot chix-pix.

Sample pic of bread pakoras.

Sacred Maala