This is how it happend: Part 3.
3-2-09 Tuesday Morning 2:45 am
AF-201.
I must admit that God is not biased to anyone.
When Binu’s first wish was mercilessly turned down, his second wish was granted whole heartedly.
So eventhough the airhostesses were all old, I got my seat near to a lady.
"Fair deal", I thought in the dim light.
Then as I sat near to the beautiful lady, my eyes got adjusted with the light inside and I discovered that she was older than the air hostesses.
"Thank you God, that was a good one!", I thanked Him, appreciated his humor sense and went to sleep which lasted almost throughout the flight.
“This happens only in Cinema”, I sang in tune to a familiar hindi song.
After all, 'Hum Tum' was only that much.
By around 9 25am, I reached Paris and the connection flight to Detroit was at 10 45am. To even my surprise, I managed to find the right terminal. The story inside AF-373 was a repetition except that there was no one to sit near me. All my fantasies about missing the flight in Paris and roaming around with an Indian fairy started looking very stupid.
I turned on the TV, switched to World Cinema and watched “Bachna Ae Haseeno”. It sucked.
“This happens only Only ONLY in Cinema”, I hummed again and drifted into timeless space.
3-2-2009 Tuesday 3.15 pm
Detroit Airport.
The renowned US customs was totally fooled and I smuggled 5kg of rice, 2kg of sugar, peas, grams etc into the US territory. It was freezing cold outside. But people were standing there waiting for taxi cabs.
I joined them.
Cabs were coming and people were leaving and I was still standing there thinking what to do next. At last I tried what I had seen in Hollywood movies to catch the cab.
I raised my arm as stiff and high as I can and in perfect sync with those arriving cabs.
Nothing happened!!
Not even a single cab stopped by me. They just went past me to reach the whites standing over there.
“Racially discriminating as*****s, ba*****s”, spraying them with foul words, I somehow controlled my sudden rage to hit them and run.
Finally after a number of failed attempts, I asked another white who was watching me all these times to know that those were all booked cabs and the pre-paid taxis were available on the 4th floor, other side of the building.
“Well, the story begins now!”, I thought.
On my way to the pre-paid taxi counter, I asked another white for directions and she cut me off so rudely saying that she doesn’t need any cab right now.
As I was searching for the pre-paid counter (my only experience with the pre-paid services was the one for auto rikshaws at Thambanoor railway station and there used to be a long queue always), another white came to me and asked whether I was looking for cab service or not. On nodding yes, she took me to her cab, helped me put my luggage inside and finally dumped me with a Sikh driver.
"Fine, atleast he is from my country.Mera Bharat Mahan!!"
Although I had heard a lot that most of the Indian taxi cab drivers are Sikhs, I never expected that my first cab driver in US will be a Sardarjee.
He looked at me for sometime but his face was expressionless.
“I am also from India”, I told him as I sat myself in the car.
He just nodded.
“Poor guy must have had a fight with his wife early in the morning”, I tried to console myself for his cold response.
He asked me my destination and I started searching for the piece of paper on which I had written the address.
Its gone!
The sardarjee's face was turning red. I feared that it may explode at any moment and I told him the address from my vague memory.
“Oye Maloom hain”, he just accelerated the machine in full throttle pressing me against the back seat…..
5 minutes later....
Slowly the ice broke and we started talking. Though I started my conversation in English, soon I switched to Hindi and out of excitement I even switched to Malayalam in between. He seemed to understand whatever I was saying or at least he nodded to all my pauses.
I talked to him during the whole span of the short journey. He asked me about the climate in India, the state where I belong, how I learnt Hindi etc etc and then about the Mumbai terror attacks. He even showed me the 25 different ways of Nuking Pakistan.
After about 30 minutes of non stop talking with hindi songs playing in the background, he dropped me infront of TownPlace Suites, Foxdrive, Livonia (This was what I had told him).
And it was time to pay. My first in dollars. To an Indian.
He charged me only 40, even though the meter showed 46.
"Sasriakal", I said in style.
He looked at me and smiled.
"Sasriakal", he said and drove his cab away as I carried my luggage to the hotel front desk.
As I was entering through the door, my mind was recollecting all the Hollywood movies that I had ever seen.
"I can handle all situations, Hollywood has got it all baby…"
I approached the front desk. A black was sitting there.
I noticed her name-tag in a short glance.
Ebony.
She raised her face sensing someone standing in front and our eyes met. Well, I know what is going to happen next, I have seen enough Hollywood movies to handle every…...
“Aah u Wazhie Sheezham? Aah u goin 2 zheckin tonyt??”
“Eh??”, I starred at her.
I need sub titles...!!
“Aah u goin 2 zheckin tonyt?!!”
“Ah, yes!”, it took me sometime to recover.
“Ok, I need your Credit card..”
“Here!”, My James Bond smile returned.
She squeezed the money out of it and handed it back to me.
“Thank you sir! Your suite is 221, and that is right there in the other building, 2nd floor. The staircase is over there towards the left and if you want to use the lift, it is at the extreme right of that corridor. Here is your swipe card. Have a nice stay at Townplace suites, Livonia. We were waiting for you…..”, once the card worked, she became very friendly!
3-2-09 Tuesday, 4.20pm
Suite No 221, Townplace suites, Livonia.
I dragged myself and my luggage into the room and switched on the lights.
“Clean!”, that was the first word that came out of me.
In addition to the bed room, there was a well equipped open kitchen, a locker room and the bathroom and everything about it was very neat and clean. They even provide free internet access to its guests. I liked it.
I pulled out my laptop and tried to connect it to the access point only to learn that I do not have the cable with me. I called Ebony again and she gave me one long cable to use. I liked her too…
I sent out mails to my near and dear updating them with my safe arrival.
So here I am.
Alone, in the land of opportunities.
Signed Sreeram R.Warrier ;)
AF-201.
I must admit that God is not biased to anyone.
When Binu’s first wish was mercilessly turned down, his second wish was granted whole heartedly.
So eventhough the airhostesses were all old, I got my seat near to a lady.
"Fair deal", I thought in the dim light.
Then as I sat near to the beautiful lady, my eyes got adjusted with the light inside and I discovered that she was older than the air hostesses.
"Thank you God, that was a good one!", I thanked Him, appreciated his humor sense and went to sleep which lasted almost throughout the flight.
“This happens only in Cinema”, I sang in tune to a familiar hindi song.
After all, 'Hum Tum' was only that much.
By around 9 25am, I reached Paris and the connection flight to Detroit was at 10 45am. To even my surprise, I managed to find the right terminal. The story inside AF-373 was a repetition except that there was no one to sit near me. All my fantasies about missing the flight in Paris and roaming around with an Indian fairy started looking very stupid.
I turned on the TV, switched to World Cinema and watched “Bachna Ae Haseeno”. It sucked.
“This happens only Only ONLY in Cinema”, I hummed again and drifted into timeless space.
3-2-2009 Tuesday 3.15 pm
Detroit Airport.
The renowned US customs was totally fooled and I smuggled 5kg of rice, 2kg of sugar, peas, grams etc into the US territory. It was freezing cold outside. But people were standing there waiting for taxi cabs.
I joined them.
Cabs were coming and people were leaving and I was still standing there thinking what to do next. At last I tried what I had seen in Hollywood movies to catch the cab.
I raised my arm as stiff and high as I can and in perfect sync with those arriving cabs.
Nothing happened!!
Not even a single cab stopped by me. They just went past me to reach the whites standing over there.
“Racially discriminating as*****s, ba*****s”, spraying them with foul words, I somehow controlled my sudden rage to hit them and run.
Finally after a number of failed attempts, I asked another white who was watching me all these times to know that those were all booked cabs and the pre-paid taxis were available on the 4th floor, other side of the building.
“Well, the story begins now!”, I thought.
On my way to the pre-paid taxi counter, I asked another white for directions and she cut me off so rudely saying that she doesn’t need any cab right now.
As I was searching for the pre-paid counter (my only experience with the pre-paid services was the one for auto rikshaws at Thambanoor railway station and there used to be a long queue always), another white came to me and asked whether I was looking for cab service or not. On nodding yes, she took me to her cab, helped me put my luggage inside and finally dumped me with a Sikh driver.
"Fine, atleast he is from my country.Mera Bharat Mahan!!"
Although I had heard a lot that most of the Indian taxi cab drivers are Sikhs, I never expected that my first cab driver in US will be a Sardarjee.
He looked at me for sometime but his face was expressionless.
“I am also from India”, I told him as I sat myself in the car.
He just nodded.
“Poor guy must have had a fight with his wife early in the morning”, I tried to console myself for his cold response.
He asked me my destination and I started searching for the piece of paper on which I had written the address.
Its gone!
The sardarjee's face was turning red. I feared that it may explode at any moment and I told him the address from my vague memory.
“Oye Maloom hain”, he just accelerated the machine in full throttle pressing me against the back seat…..
5 minutes later....
Slowly the ice broke and we started talking. Though I started my conversation in English, soon I switched to Hindi and out of excitement I even switched to Malayalam in between. He seemed to understand whatever I was saying or at least he nodded to all my pauses.
I talked to him during the whole span of the short journey. He asked me about the climate in India, the state where I belong, how I learnt Hindi etc etc and then about the Mumbai terror attacks. He even showed me the 25 different ways of Nuking Pakistan.
After about 30 minutes of non stop talking with hindi songs playing in the background, he dropped me infront of TownPlace Suites, Foxdrive, Livonia (This was what I had told him).
And it was time to pay. My first in dollars. To an Indian.
He charged me only 40, even though the meter showed 46.
"Sasriakal", I said in style.
He looked at me and smiled.
"Sasriakal", he said and drove his cab away as I carried my luggage to the hotel front desk.
As I was entering through the door, my mind was recollecting all the Hollywood movies that I had ever seen.
"I can handle all situations, Hollywood has got it all baby…"
I approached the front desk. A black was sitting there.
I noticed her name-tag in a short glance.
Ebony.
She raised her face sensing someone standing in front and our eyes met. Well, I know what is going to happen next, I have seen enough Hollywood movies to handle every…...
“Aah u Wazhie Sheezham? Aah u goin 2 zheckin tonyt??”
“Eh??”, I starred at her.
I need sub titles...!!
“Aah u goin 2 zheckin tonyt?!!”
“Ah, yes!”, it took me sometime to recover.
“Ok, I need your Credit card..”
“Here!”, My James Bond smile returned.
She squeezed the money out of it and handed it back to me.
“Thank you sir! Your suite is 221, and that is right there in the other building, 2nd floor. The staircase is over there towards the left and if you want to use the lift, it is at the extreme right of that corridor. Here is your swipe card. Have a nice stay at Townplace suites, Livonia. We were waiting for you…..”, once the card worked, she became very friendly!
3-2-09 Tuesday, 4.20pm
Suite No 221, Townplace suites, Livonia.
I dragged myself and my luggage into the room and switched on the lights.
“Clean!”, that was the first word that came out of me.
In addition to the bed room, there was a well equipped open kitchen, a locker room and the bathroom and everything about it was very neat and clean. They even provide free internet access to its guests. I liked it.
I pulled out my laptop and tried to connect it to the access point only to learn that I do not have the cable with me. I called Ebony again and she gave me one long cable to use. I liked her too…
I sent out mails to my near and dear updating them with my safe arrival.
So here I am.
Alone, in the land of opportunities.
Signed Sreeram R.Warrier ;)
Extracted From Sreeram's World at 12:50 AM
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