Crazy Crash Course on India

This wasn’t supposed to be a post, rather an email response to a few friends who plan on taking a trip to India soon. But since this response got a little too interesting and funny that I decided to publish it here.

Thanks to Slumdog Millionaire, people now think of India as a poor, populated, polluted, and corrupt country. Child beggars pulling arms of the people on the streets, a bridegrooms procession in midst afternoon with the mercury soaring at 42 degrees Celsius, blaring loud speaker in the night enough to tear one’s ear drums, crazy honking vehicles, little boys serving tea in dirty clothes, pirated DVDs and CDs selling in the open, choked-full buses and trains, cars parked in no parking ones, etc. No doubt Danny Boyle made a fortune out of the miseries of Indians, but he ignored the positive side of our lives.

Here are a few regular questions that are shot at me, when it comes to traveling in India….

1.      Is it safe to travel to India? :

As a matter of fact, NO. India isn`t safe. We have 2000+ languages and 10+ religions which result in a lot of misunderstanding & confusion. I wouldn`t advise you to take this extreme step right away. I would suggest, you participate in Fear Factor, win it and then try a visit to India. Sometimes we even torture the moderator who comes in to solve our problems. We might gift you lemon pickle.

2.      How should one commute in India?

No matter how much people say that auto rickshaws are the best and safest way to travel, they aren`t. Their drivers are always on the look out for pale skins. After all, they are in the business of taking people for a ride.

Every auto rickshaw journey begins with fare negotiations. That’s easy to tackle if you know where you are, where you are going and how much would it cost. Remember, only because have managed to talk down the driver from Rs 200 that he quoted to Rs 180, you aren’t a winner here. You should know that no ride should ever cost you more than Rs100.

Here are a few tricks that would help you get past this situation:

a.    Learn these three words: “Bas”- meaning “stop”. “Seedha” meaning “go straight”. “Kitna?” meaning “How much?”.

By using these words you won’t convince him into believing that you are as local as him, and neither will you understand his answers to these questions. The reason for using these words is to make him doubt you’re a tourist fresh off the plane.

b.      Smile, relax and politely disagree

If the driver doesn’t agree on the same amount and quotes you some ridiculous fare, just smile, disagree and start walking away. You will be surprised how reasonable he becomes once he sees your back fading away.

c.       Call him Bhaiya (Big Brother)

Yup, we Indians aren’t very fussy about only calling our own brothers “brother”. Every man who might be a threat to us, or who won’t give up easy, or whom you genuinely respect, or who holds some authoritative position, is a “bhaiya” to us. For example, Auto rickshaw driver, street food vendors, Bus drivers, Police officer and even a possible eve teaser suspect would be a “bhaiya”.

After all, we grew up pledging “Every Indian is my brother and sister” every morning.

Bhaiya is a weapon of coercion unparalleled in Western linguistics.

3.      What is the safest place to stay in India?

Staying under the bridge is definitely not a good idea though you will see 10% of India living there. Staying with an Indian friend would be the best idea. Unlike many other countries where a guest needs to call up and arrive and also mention the time by when he/she will leave…in India, guests are God. Remember, this doesn`t mean that you will get to smoke and drink inside the house. Apart from this, if your wallets permit, staying in a hotel would be my suggestion. The pampering, the luxury treatment and the spoiling of Indian hotels are second to none.

4.      How do I find addresses in India?

If you have the luxury of hiring a driver, that would be the best way. But if you don`t have that luxury, the best way to find an address in India would be to get it written down on a piece of paper in Hindi or the regional language of the area (one of the 2000+ languages that`s spoken in the country) before setting out.

Google has to come a long way to map all the roads of India, hence we rely on a pretty ingenious system: Ask people.

The right people to ask for directions would be people sitting under trees, people having chai at the tea stall, people smoking at the bus stop or people just standing opposite Girls high schools & colleges.

No one gives complete directions and no one seems to expect them- rather, they’re given in broad directions that will get you close enough to find someone else who knows it better.

The instructions are always ‘go straight and turn right` because we Indians always believe in what is right. I would recommend confirming the directions given by Person 1 by asking a Person 2, for sometimes…we Indians consider every foreigner to be British and thus try to punish him/her for ruling us by sending them in the opposite direction. ;)

Warning: Do not start to panic if your rickshaw driver leaves you in the vehicle in the middle of a busy street to confirm the directions from a street vendor.

5.      Does India have electricity?

No, we don`t have electricity. All those stories of India`s Information Technology Enabled Services sector worth 40 billion annually is a white lie. Our computers run on Gobar gas (Bio Gas)

6.      Do people use mobile phones in India?

No, we don`t have mobile phones. In fact, the last phone that was photographed in India was brought in by George Bush as a gift for our Prime Minister Dr Manmohan Singh. But since we don`t have telecom operators, Dr Singh uses it like a watch. We all carry small drums wherever we go and convey our messages by drumming. We have codes for every possible scenario….for example, 186 loud hits on the drum means the person drumming is in danger and 1239 hits on the drum mean the nearby building is on fire. For long distance messaging we climb a hill or one of the bridges. Sometimes we also climb trees, but that`s only if the mango season is on. However, you can bring your mobile phone to India. If it doesn`t get stolen and sold in the chor bazaar, you can use it to check time and date.

7.      Do people understand English in India?

No we do not understand English. English was announced as our Official language to trick white skinned people on getting their investments in India. The best bet for you would be to learn our regional languages. If you don`t know the language, then keep mum. If you have come to India with a lot of Melanin, you stand a good chance of learning our language. There is another way around…if you are a girl and are pretty; you can join a Reality Shows on television. Since you are a girl, every man on the show will come to your rescue and teach you Hindi.

8.      What should I avoid eating in India?

India is a paradise for street food. It’s also heaven for spices. To balance them both, you may want to avoid gol gappa (my personal favorite street food and the reason I wanted to marry a gol gappa vendor ;)) - but make sure not to miss the sidewalk chai. Pick a vendor who has other customers, and as long as you see it boiled before your eyes; you have nothing to worry about.

Also, when you step out to eat in the dhabas (local restaurant), it might be a good idea to steal your eyes against the sights that might want you to run with waving hand for the first flight back home.

There have been times when I have cursed my bladder for forcing me to see the sight inside the restaurant bathrooms right before I ate.

There have been times at a trendy restaurant when a mouse ran across the feet of the four people seated across from me. The chorus line that occurred as they all kicked would have been funny if I hadn’t been so busy jumping on my own seat as well. J

But all this did not deter us from enjoying my meals.

It would be a good idea to relax your sanitary standards a bit, to be able to enjoy the most unforgettable meals.

Learn to follow the reaction of people around you. If nobody else seems bothered by what was revealed when the kitchen door swung open, why should you?

9.      Will I get medicines in India, or should I pack everything from here?

Nope, we don`t have medicines. Since all our doctors are in US, UK, Canada and Gulf…we are being forced to live our life without doctors. Not that we care, we just walk up the mountain whenever we are suffering from fever, pluck the purple flowers, walk back in the heat, grind it to a paste and then eat it to cure ourselves of the viral fever. We have eradicated Chicken pox and Polio from our country by adopting these measures.

10.  A few other pointers to keep in mind?

Foreigners are, well, foreigners in India. So sometimes you’ll get stared at. Sometimes you’ll get cheated. Sometimes you’ll get pushed to the front of the queue even though a dozen equally worth people are in line in front of you. Sometimes someone will ask to shake your hand for no reason. Sometimes someone will shove a baby in your arms and pose you for a photo.

In most of these cases, you will feel uncomfortable. You’ll want to cross your arms, and furrow your brow.

Don’t!

No matter what happens, smile. Relax! Have fun! Go with it. Nothing bad will happen to you when you do, but you will miss many great experiences if you don’t. 

Proud Daughters!

I know I don’t need a space on web to pen down my sentiments on this topic, since those who know me, are not unaware of the fact of how proud I am of my dad. I probably have “My Dad bestest” written all over me.

But since this is a special occasion and I needed a reason to move on to a happy post after my last one, here I am YET again boasting and bragging about my dad J

I don’t remember when he first held me or when I first called out to him, I don’t even remember the first time he walked me; but what I do remember is; that for as long as I’ve known my dad, I’ve seen and associated him with his crisp clean uniform, perfect posture and a commanding voice. He was, he is and will always be an Indian Army officer for me.

In our growing years, we all have different dreams that grow as we do. When I was 10, I wanted to be a postman (For some reason I thought postman has the leverage of reading other’s letters and keep the ones he likes). I wanted to grow up to be a postman, until I read the story of an ice-cream vendor. He always delivered more than ice-creams to children, he delivered “Joy”. Nothing at that time would have impressed me more than that ice-cream vendor and I wanted to be just like him. Soon after, I saw these beauty queens winning titles for our country one after the other, making national news. I’ve always wanted to be famous and this seemed to be the easiest way. I wanted to be Miss Universe. And then an air hostess because they got to travel the world, followed by an engine driver (don’t remember the fascination behind that). When seriousness kicked in, I wanted to be an IT professional, but soon realized how boring that sounded (I didn’t want people to know me as Deepali Jamwal, the IT professional, “poor girl, she used to be fun”) and then I wanted to be a wedding planner and so on….

Well, this post isn’t to confess my confused personality, but only to exemplify how our dreams alter with age, but my dad has always had only One dream. To serve his nation.

Now; I wasn’t around to witness this, but I’ve heard enough, that I firmly believe it to be true. The confident person that my dad was, he knew he was going to make it into the armed forces even before he had given his exams. So much so, that he never really bothered attending his college until NDA (National Defence Academy), and also dragged his friends (who weren’t going to make it into the Army later) along with him to bunk classes and watch movies. The stories that I get to hear from his friends make me wonder, “Then why does he get annoyed at our mischief?”

This is how confident my dad was of making into the Army. He knew no other profession. I can’t imagine the degree of ecstasy and bliss that my dad must have experienced when he got commissioned into the Army. He had fulfilled not only his own, but also his father’s dream. Second Lieutenant Raj Singh Jamwal.

Second Lieutenant to Lieutenant to Captain to Major to Lt Colonel to Colonel to Brigadier. It has been a long journey for my dad.

Ever since the day he commissioned as an army officer, his rank has been his prized possession. He has earned each of these ranks in lieu of his hard work, dedication and a million sacrifices. No one can take his rank away from him. I mean NO ONE. I remember the first time Ashish called him “Mr. Jamwal”, and the 20 minute lecture that followed. He is and will always be “Brig Jamwal” J

Like any other Army kid, we hadn’t seen much of our dad in our growing up years either (except for the picture that my Mom frequently showed us to ensure we knew what he looked like and don’t accidently call him “uncle” when he visited). He wasn’t there to attend our PTAs, he wasn’t there in our annual school functions, and he had never met my best friend and probably didn’t even know my favorite subjects. My mom was the hero who managed it all single handedly, for the longest time. I still have all the letters he wrote to me until I was 6, and it makes my eye teary to recognize the plight of a father who got to see their kids grow old only through letters. One of his letters is still clear in my memory (maybe because I just read it a few months back ;)); it read, “Hi Sweetheart, I heard that you have started writing and I am extremely excited about it. Your mother tells me that you are doing very well in school as well. I am so proud of you and I’ll come to see you soon.”

Such times came frequently in our lives when we had to live away from our dad and it wasn’t fun. But our mom made it an exciting experience every time our dad came home. We used to welcome him with delicious delights, handmade cards, decorated and lit up house. It was a festival every time he visited. I remember saving all the fire crackers from Diwali only so we can burst them with dad when he gets home.

(For all those ignorant people out there, think twice before calling us “Army Brats”)

The first image that you get of my dad is “a strict and commanding army officer” and the second image would be, “Fun and extremely loving”. He exemplifies a coconut aptly. Hard on the outside, soft from the interiors.  

I can never forget the day, we sat in my Dad’s office while he was wrapping up his work. He ordered to see the sepoy who had left for home without any notice. Two men walked inside the door. One stood confident and the other was shivering and almost in tears. It wasn’t hard to guess who amongst the two the offender was. The moment my dad opened his mouth to grill him, the poor sepoy pissed in his pants. We all sat there in amusement as we had never seen something like this before. A grown up army man, wetting his pants J. That is how much people dreaded my dad. But on the other hand, they cherished him, appreciated him and took pleasure in his company.

The day my dad left his unit, his first love (8 JAK RIF), there was weeping, and howling. His men adored and worshiped him for all the affection he had showered on them despite being the strictest person they had ever seen.

May dad is a fun person. The day our unit got their new vehicles (3 ton trucks); he wanted to try them out himself and took the driver seat. He drove the truck all over the area and then decided to bring the truck onto the cricket field where a match was in progress. This left everyone astonished. While all the men were surprised by the courage this driver had displayed, all the women went thinking, “What a handsome driver” ;)

He is a sportsman. Even today when he sets foot in the squash court, many youngsters are put to shame. Be it squash, tennis, badminton or swimming; I’m yet to find a competition for my dad.

As he picked a higher rank, the security around him got thicker. It was difficult to spot him without armed men surrounding him. I remember the days when he came to receive us at the railway station with all those men dressed in crisp uniforms and loaded guns, around him. We always caught all the eyeballs at the station. Clueless of what to do, my sister and I occasionally waived at the crowd staring at us J. Yeah! We knew how to have fun at his expense J

To avoid any kind of embarrassment, I had asked him to park his vehicle at least 2 blocks away from my office building, when he came to visit me. Yet a few of my colleagues saw me getting out of his flagged – starred car and kept asking me, “Who are you?”

It sometimes amazes me to see a person so authoritative, and commanding; awaiting his wife’s afternoon nap so he can set out on a chocolate hunt. That’s right, he is a Brigadier in the Army, but my mom is the commander at home J. It’s fun to watch them fight over TV remote, it’s fun when we all gang up to tickle him, it’s fun to hear him complain about mom for waking him up early, it’s fun to listen to his never ending childhood stories. It’s Fun being around him J

Even though he retires from the Army today, for us he will always be the best Man, Army has ever had. Brig RS Jamwal.

A salute to my dad for serving his country unflinchingly and gallantly, for all these years. We have always looked up to you. And even louder salutes to my mom, for simply being an Army wife. I know you’ve had it tough mom and we certainly didn’t make your life easier for you. You both ROCK!

My Friend- Vincent

He called himself, “Rock, Vincent Rock”. I am yet to meet another person as proud of his name as Vincent. And sure enough, his name described his personality. He rocked as a friend, as a brother, as a son, as a guide, as a nurturer, as a dancer.

I met him on the very first day of undergrad and it didn’t take long for us to become best buds. I used to complete his assignments, and he used to make every possible effort to bring a smile on my face. I used to cover up for him in classes and he would sit hours patiently to hear me complain. I used to scold him for not being in the best books of professors and he would always come up with something funny to crack me up. He was more than a friend to me.

Most of you who know me, would say that I’m pampered and spoilt. Well, Vincent had a MAJOR role in spoiling me, along with Huzefa, Dujon, Vani and Abhishek. One little tantrum and my wish would be fulfilled, with a famous dialogue, “Main hoon na re” (I’m still here).  They were my guarding angels. Never let any evil inside and always kept me safe and pampered.

Even though I was the kid amongst us, he would tremble if I ever caught him smoking. He would find a different corner in the campus every time for a puff.

He was everybody’s friend. One shout to Vincent, and he would be there in a heartbeat. I still remember the day he left his house saying, “abhi aatu” (I’ll be back in a bit) and came all the way to Jammu to meet me J His terrified mom made a million calls in those 2 days trying to reach him J

He believed in giving, and sharing. Anyone who needed help knew he would go to them, and all it took was a call. I’ve lost the count for how many times he sold his mobile phone to lend money to his friends J

He liked playing with his looks. One fine day, Vincent would show up with RED hair and a zig zag beard and would leave every head turned. It was easy to spot Vincent in a huge crowd. The odd one out, had to be him.

You could expect anything from him. Here’s the story that I never get tired of narrating:

Vincent and Dujon were the notorious kids of our college. Always running low on attendance and always in professor’s bad books. Professor’s seemed to have some allergic reactions with them around. Both of them had gotten final warnings from the principal and were working really hard to make it work. They were attending classes, and for the first time I saw them walk into college on time with a notepad and a pen. That day deserved celebrations. In fact, they had even combed their hair neat and we finally got to get a good look at their faces after 3 whole years. We were walking to our class when Principal caught hold of Vincent and called him to his office. Naive Vincent went into his office when Principal started yelling at him for some reason that I can’t remember. This time Vincent was not going to take it. Profusely angry Vincent yelled back at the principal saying, “what will YOU kick me out of your college, I myself am leaving. And not just me, even Dujon is leaving with me”… J

Clueless Dujon, who was sincerely attending a class, got the news that he has been dismissed from college J

That day was both hilarious and disheartening. I made every possible effort to convince the principal, fought with him, pleaded him, but all in vain; while all these guys sat in the cafeteria and had a great laugh over Vincent’s outburst. I cried my eyes out that I won’t be seeing my friends every day. But like Vincent promised me, he waited for us in the cafeteria every single day.

All of us barely live every day, but he treasured every moment of his life. The lyrics of an old hindi film song, “main indagi ka saath nibhata chala gaya”, appropriately justify his way of life.

Vincent would randomly drop me a “hi” and then we would chat for hours together. He never missed checking out all my pictures on facebook and then we would discuss each one of them. We would discuss his life, my life, and our hopeless friends ;). Last time I spoke to him, he was doing so much better. He had almost recovered from his illness and was going to share his wedding plans with me. He had high dreams. He never dreamt small. His eyes sparkled even when he had lost all his health.

The day he made it for my wedding despite the fact, he could barely move, he left me speechless. No words can validate my gratitude towards him. With his shivering hands and aching body, he walked upto me to say his famous dialogue, “main hoon na re” (I’m still here for you). He used to tell me, “Tere liye kuchh bhi karunga” (I can do anything for you).

Today, Vincent is no more. He has left a vacuum in our hearts forever. He has abandoned all of us and deprived us of his love. I ping him, but don’t hear back from him. His phone never gets answered. No one to say, “main hoon na re”, no one to complain about my other hopeless friends to, no one to say, “tere liye toh kucch bhi baap”, no one to fall back upon.

Vincent, I know you can hear me, I can feel you beside me. I want you to know, that you are precious.  I love you!

10 things I love about my husband

Despite, all that I say, I do love my husband a lot. :) If you know us and wonder why you don’t see that love in our eyes, that’s only because, both of us do not believe in “Public Display of Affection” ;)

And to prove my point, I have been meaning to write this post for the longest time. But whenever, I sat down to write it, Ashish would do something so wrong that all the fond thoughts would dissipate immediately ;)

However, he is out grocery shopping now (knowing his pace, he would take no less than 2 hours), so I guess the timing couldn’t get perfect, since absence makes the heart grow fonder ;)

“Wow! Are you sure he’s your husband? But you both are so young?”, “Your brother has similar specs frame as you”, “Poor Ashish! How does he ever keep up with you?” are the first reactions of people who see us together. 2 completely contrasting personalities, 2 opposite end, 2 sides of a coin, etc. A “good boy”; smart, sensible and matured; soft spoken, patient and humble versus a “naughty girl”; talkative, immature, LOUD, impatient and blunt. Don’t even get me started with a good chef versus a lousy eater. We both strike a balance in every aspect of life. He completed my life like a jog Saw puzzle.

He’s my Best Friend (Other best friends, please don’t take an offense here ;), my partner, my guide, my lover and my darling husband.

This however, does not imply that he doesn’t drive me crazy. He does! He is stubborn, egoist, lazy, critical and sometimes messy… But this post will have only goody goody stuff. You can read on other posts for the other side of the story ;)

So, here are the 10 things I love about my husband:

1. He’s got my back. ALWAYS. He is the pillar of strength I’ve always needed. He is always there to support me in all my endeavors (no matter how silly they might be). He never says, “I think painting a house would be a lot of effort considering we’ll have to repaint it back when we leave. So let’s forget about it”. But instead, he says, “We’ll make it a fun activity if you want it”. He never says, “I think, taking up too many responsibilities would drive you crazy. So don’t do it”, but he says, “I’ll be always there to provide you support when you need it”. He is my true partner, in every sense of the word.
2. I trust him completely. I know he always has my best interest at heart. Even when he holds on tight to the side bars when I am driving, it’s not because he is scared, it’s because he wants to keep himself safe “Just in Case” ;) With him, I can be rest assured that our future is planned and is safe.
3. He is funny. Ashish might come across as a serious, non-fun guy at first sight. The ones you called “uncle” in your group ;) But once he is in the mood, he can crack everybody up. But sure, you cannot put him under pressure or it just gets embarrassing. Like the other day when I started a sentence but didn’t know how to finish it, and looked at Ashish to say something funny and save me there… and silence followed….
4. He knows HISTORY. You cannot imagine how important that is for an ignorant person like me, who didn’t even know what our national tree was. I have always wanted a well read person who can not only teach our kids, but also educate me every now and then… But it does get annoying at times when you are on your honeymoon and all you get to hear is history about the place.
5. He has the looks. Being caught up in the daily grind of work/ dance/ socializing etc, this is something I don’t notice often, but the man is good looking. He has the perfect smile to lighten my day, those eyes and eye lashes (sometimes I feel like plucking them and using it for myself ;).
6. He loves my family. This is HUGE for me. He understand what my family means to me (not excluding Mishti in any way), he understands how much I miss them and he also understands how much it means to me when he loves them as much as I do. No wonder he was ready to send me to India when I said I missed my family. Not because I was driving him crazy, cribbing, crying, yelling “You don’t love me anymore” and then threatening “I swear I won’t let you sleep”; but because he really loves me :)
7. He compliments me. He is exactly what I am not. (Cook, investor, sensible, etc.) That makes us “perfect” for each other. I think life would be very boring if I was an exact copy of his. Imagine, spending life in total silence!!!!
8. He works hard. Not only professionally, but on our relationship as well. If you know me, you probably also know how difficult it is to put up with someone as crazy as me. He does a marvelous job at it. He does lose his cool at time, but that’s all in another post ;)
9. He is my partner in crime. You would think, a person as non- adventurous as Ashish, who has always been a “Good Boy”, would not do anything exciting. It’s time to know him all over again. He made it a point to get out of his shell and join hands with me in my madness. With him, every sport/ activity is pure FUN!
10. He loves me. Need I say more? It’s pure bliss when he sings to me at night. When we watch movies cuddled up. When he cooks breakfast for me. When he forces milk down my throat. When he lets me buy chocolates. When he get me flowers. When he buys me 2 pair of shoes that I can’t decide between. When he tickles me till I fall off bed laughing.

I can go on and on. Point remaining the same, I love my husband to bits. We are meant to be together.

Now I better end this before he comes back and does something so unbelievable irritating that I am forced to kill him and change this list AGAIN!

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My definition of an eventful trip

Aaaaaannnnnnnddddddddddd I am back, from a very short yet eventful and adventurous trip to India. It was so action packed that this post is going to be a lengthy one, hence a sincere request to all my fans (aka readers), to show some patience and read along, while I’ll try my best to make it as engaging as possible.

The excitement was only sinking in and we were clicking pictures at Ottawa rail station itself (if you know me well, you’ll also know I am an over enthusiastic photographer), when a pretty faced, 20 something young lady interrupted our photo session and asked if I was Deepali. There, I had found a friend at the beginning of our journey itself and I knew it, this is going to be a fun filled voyage.

Ottawa to Montreal, Montreal to Amsterdam, Amsterdam to Delhi. One heck of a travel. But we couldn’t complain as we kept bumping into friends/ acquaintances (planned or otherwise) and the extensive journey became less painful. Catching with the Amandeep and his family at Amsterdam airport and traveling together from there was kinda fun.

Right when we thought this journey couldn’t get more exciting, a police officer came to our flight to make an announcement that 2 Afghani prisoners were being deported to India in our aircraft, but he comforted us by further adding that they were under security covers and there wasn’t anything to worry about. I guess the second part of his announcement was lost in all the commotion created amongst the passengers. As if the journey wasn’t going exciting enough, one of the Afghani kept screaming and yelling every now and then, to keep us all on the tip of our toes, ready to jump off the aircraft ;)

After a sleepless 17 hours, annoying kids kicking the back of my seat and getting through a very rude immigration officer, we reached Delhi airport (which looked more like a bus station) at 1AM. Ashish’s mom, dad, sister, brother in law, and nephew were waiting at the arrival gate for us (only if dogs were permitted, Brutus and Asterisks would have joined them too). The moment I saw them, tears rolled down my cheeks and I got overly emotional. I was returning home after a year and a half.

I could smell India. It was pollution, mixed with dust, paan spits, dog shit and body odor of at least a thousand people in the radius of 200 meters. Ah! I was in India. My country.

Regular people usually head back home from the airport at 1 AM after a 17 hour journey, but our priority was different. I wanted the taste of kulfi in my mouth even before I brush my teeth. So we hunted down a kulfi vendor at that time of night, savored the taste of that delicious kulfi and then headed home.

It was good to be back. The pollution in Delhi was bizarre. At noon, you could look at the sun without sunglasses, and it is an orange ball, as if the sun was always setting. It’s not just the air pollution that drives you crazy; it’s also the noise pollution. Continuous honking, loud people, street vendors, deafening music, is enough to wanna puncture your eardrum.

While the traffic in itself is crazy enough, in a huge avenue, extremely busy, you cannot tell which side people drive there. In the middle of that avenue there are also cows, and everyone drives around them. There are people sleeping in between two avenues, a place that barely fits the body of a person, while cars pass at full speed just beside them. Who would choose such a place to sleep?

Besides cow, you can easily spot other sacred animals let loose on the streets as well, snakes, rats, monkeys. Not sure if Dogs are considered sacred, but they’re seen everywhere. Mosquitoes and flies are more common than all these animals together, but they are not sacred, so just do not open your mouth and you’ll be fine.

I was enjoying myself. That smile never left my face. I was relishing every bit of my stay. I was enjoying the traffic jams, bumper to bumper driving, Hindi radio channels and FINALLY some funny advertisements on radio (I can vouch for it that Indian ads are the funniest and most innovative ones).

In no time, we were preparing to leave Delhi for Jammu. It was time for me to see my family. My mom, my dad and my Mishti. With a heart full of excitement, we flew from Delhi. We had been pulling all nighters, meeting relatives, friends, attending weddings, catching up with parents, that by this time we were exhausted. With a hope of catching up some sleep in the flight, we shut our eyes, but in half an hour, captain announced our arrival.

I was home. I was going to see my Mishti. I didn’t know how I would react upon seeing my parents. I was imagining all this in my mind when Ashish said:

“I’m sure your dad would come to the airfield to receive you”

“Arrey! How can he come to the airfield? It isn’t a joke, the security is strict here. How will he be allowed?”, I shrugged my shoulders.

“Your Bapu (dad), has so many friends. I’m sure they’ll let him in”, Ashish uttered with confidence.

We stepped out of the aircraft and our eyes took a quick scan of the airfield and didn’t see him. “See, he isn’t here”, I said.

We took two steps further and there he was. My dad, my hero, on the airfield. Walking towards us.

He has always managed to make friends everywhere he went and charm people with his personality. He knows how to get his way through. I hugged him for a minute, shed a few tears and happily, we head home. I wonder why other co-passengers gave us that look, as if we were celebrities or shooting a movie ;)

Mishti was waiting for us at the door. She can always sense when we around. For a few seconds, she looked at me in disbelief, and then she didn’t leave the sight of me.

Ma, as always, kissed me all over. I had longed for her kisses.

I was in my house. The smell, the feel and the aura was so mesmerizing. It was pure bliss. The feeling of being pampered and loved by your parents is incomparable to any other. Pre breakfast fruit bowl, heavy breakfast followed by super heavy lunch, supper, dinner and post dinner sweets, makes you wonder how does ma get all the time to prepare so much food and yet spend all the time with us, when we can barely cook one meal a day? The answer is simple, she would wake up at 4AM to prepare all this, to be able to spend every minute with us.

The next 4 days were delightful. Mishti followed me where ever I went. So much so, she followed me to the washroom, and would wait outside until I came out. Once she even managed to sneak inside the washroom (naughty girl ;))

My dad had taken 20 days leaves coz I was coming home for 4 days J

“Why did you take TWENTY days off Bapu?”, I questioned

“We had so much to be done before you came. All the light bulbs needed to be changed, clock batteries are all fresh and new, the curtains of the entire house needed to be cleaned, etc”.

Even though I’m sure Ma did most of the work and Bapu just lay around watching Cricket, the excitement that his daughter was visiting home after a year was clear in his voice.

I love my family so much that I couldn’t digest the fact I was leaving so soon. I was upset, sad and distressed. My heart sank when we reached the airport to depart. I could barely speak. My throat choked everytime I looked at Ma. She’s the most adorable piece of art. God must have been at his best while designing her.

Passing out at the airport: -

While checking in, my head started to spin and I told my dad that I felt dizzy. The next thing I know, my dad had lifted my legs, some other fella had lifted my shoulders and I was being taken somewhere. Everything seemed very unclear and hazy and it took me a while to realize I had passed out. I opened my eyes to see that I had vomited all over the place and I was sweating profusely. I saw my concerned parents trying to wake me up and some angry passengers staring at me. I guess if I was at their place and some random girl had puked on me, I would be mad too. But I didn’t pay much attention to that and went back to passing out.

After creating a huge scene and some entertainment for the co-passengers, I regained conscious and cleaned myself up. I smelled foul. I quickly went to the nearby garment store to get a change for myself. He didn’t have anything for girls, so he handed over a kids t-shirt to me, which he was certain would fit me. Only after a bottle of water, 2 cups of coffee, medication, two cans of deodorant and a round of interrogation, were the aircraft security staff satisfied that I am not sick, but just homesick. So they let me in.

Anyways, in this entire ruckus, I did make a great friend at the airport. Again, I apologize for puking at you Sahil ;)

I was back in Delhi. Back to the regular long night outs, tiring days, attending functions and caching up with friends. It was time to attend Ashish’s best friend’s wedding. I swear, if I wasn’t such a wonderful and mature wife, I would have certainly misunderstood their relationship ;)

We caught up with all his friends, friends wives, friends parents and friends siblings. Was a lot of fun. We danced till Ashish’s shoe broke, then went home to change the pair and danced again ;), laughed till we dropped out of our chairs, got some lovely clicks, ate the food to die for, witnessed relationships, drove around at 3 AM in search of paan with no luck, and slept during the main wedding.

Again sleep deprived, we thought we would finally catch some sleep on the aircraft now. Tired and exhausted, we say out goodbyes to families at 11 PM, get on the aircraft, and rest our heads for a while that in an hour an announcement is made, “Due to technical fault, we’ll be heading back to Delhi”.

That’s it! The universe doesn’t want me to sleep. This is all a conspiracy. We were stranded at Delhi airport for nearly 8 hours, and we kept fighting with the staff until we did manage to get our tickets re-routed.

It was one heck of a journey, but at least we came back with tones of stories.

Highlights of my trip:

Here are a few things that fascinated me enough to take space in my blog:

1. We were entering a mall, and at the gates, boot of ever car is checked (apparently in search of a bomb). The security guard opened the boot of the car in front of us, and a mouse jumped out of it. Where we burst out laughing, to all the others, it was a normal day-to-day sight :)

2. In a hope to get my tooth fixed, I went to a dentist in India (since they are so freaking expensive in Canada). I am not exaggerating an inch here, but the dentist was talking to my dad while drilling my tooth. When I asked him to numb my tooth as it was hurting and bleeding, his usual reply was, “It’s quite normal”… hahaha J No wonder dentists are so cheap in India :)

3. While we sat in line for our eyes check up, the doctor was inspecting a not-so-literate man’s eyes. It was clear that he had never been to an optician before. We were all left in splits when the doctor prescribed him glasses, only after asking him his age :) 56?, +4 :) hahaha

4. My grandma is adorable. She is one person who can take any joke and knows how to laugh at herself. If you know her, you’ll also know she can talk for hours and hours keeping people around her in awe. This time, she said something so funny, it cracked me up completely. One of my uncle’s has been promoted to the post of District Collector. Grandma wanted to congratulate him on his success, so called him up and said, “Congratulations on becoming a conductor (bus conductor)”:) hahaha. My oh my! :)

5. When Ashish was getting late to catch his airplane from Jammu to Delhi. It was nearing the take off time; Ashish and my dad were still stuck in traffic. My dad called up the airport authorities and requested them to do something about it. The authorities (one of whom is dad’s good friend), assured that they can delay the flight by 15 minutes max. As soon as Ashish reached the airport, without any security checks or check ins, he was pushed inside the craft. One crazy experience. It can only happen in India.

6. This was the first time I was meeting all of Ashish’s friends after our wedding. The charming me, doesn’t take much to create a good impression. But things can get messy, when I am mad at the dhol waale (musicians). At Ruchit’s wedding, the band party (musicians) was so annoying that they seemed to be bugging everybody. After a while it got uncontrollable and they started passing some remarks. People who know me, would also know, that I don’t take any non-sense. Even if I am nobody at the wedding and it doesn’t remotely concern me, if my blood has boiled, god save people around me. In front of the entire baraat, Groom’s family and friends, bride’s family and friends, I stormed at those musicians, yelled at them and shoed them away. That’s when Ashish dragged me in and said, “Can’t leave you alone for even a minute” :)

7. Bapu coming at the airfield to receive us :)

8. When I collapsed at the airport (read above)

9. When our flight made an emergency landing (read above)

10. Those priceless walks with Mishti Wow! I’m ending it here, coz I can’t write anymore. Have fun reading!