30 December, 2007

MASTER & THE CONUNDRUM - II

Lucky me, my uncle is big-shot in INDIA-AIR. He pulled couple of strings together & there I was flying to America in business class. He helped me find my seat & introduced me to the business class cabin crew & told them to take good care of me. When my uncle left the plane, the crew was still smiling at me but it was more of smirk…as if I was traveling for free or something. The worst thing about this situation was that I could not comfort myself with the free booze now that the entire crew knew who I was. The last thing you want is your mom shouting at you when you call her once you reach the university…rather than she asking you, “how was your flight? Are you jet-lagged?, blah blah blah”, she is going bonkers over the fact that her dotting ‘teetotaler’ son consumed free liquor in-flight & created a ruckus (hic). Also, with no one sitting next to me, it was going to be a lonely ride to London.

My uber-cool uncle had also told the pilot about me, so after about three hours, the pilot invited me into the cockpit. There were two to-be-pilots already inside; conversing with the pilot & co-pilot; asking all sorts of questions, company policies, aircraft history & service etc. Meanwhile, I was looking at all the switchgears like a monkey in a zoo, most of the times wondering, “Emm…what is this? What does this button do? Is the pedal near the pilot’s foot an accelerator or a brake?” By then, the pilot read my mind & started asking me about my journey so far, my schooling background, & gave me full permission to ask any questions now that he knew I was a mechanical engineer. Everyone knows how straight-forward I am… so my first question to him was a simple one, “what happens when one of the engines fail?”

The co-pilot gave me ‘the look’ the moment he heard this while the to-be-pilots started palpitating. The pilot, on the other hand, quickly changed the topic by pointing at the window saying, “Hey, look guys, we are now flying over Tehran!”
Ok. So what’s the catch? Am I supposed to look outside the window & wave to the crowd below? Or am I to look and point out and jump up with joy shouting, “ooh ooh, that part of Tehran down there looks just like Connaught Place in Delhi!!!” We are flying 33,000 feet above sea-level! Shouldn’t I be worrying about some goon down there with a missile launcher pointed at us, hitting us & then you worrying about how to control the plane when an engine or tail or wing goes missing!

“FLYING OVER TEHRAN!!!!!”…. sheeeesh!!!!!!!!!!

A London stop-over later, I was back on the flight with no one in the adjacent seat once again. I was hoping that the change of crew would mean I could taste some booze on my way to USA but those hopes took a severe beating when one of the stewards came up to me & told me that he & my uncle have known each other for a decade. This meant another eight hours on juices, boring Bollywood movies & lot of sleep.

23 hours gone, I reached the promise land. Also, with no one sitting next to me during the entire flight & having lost my chance to tipple, my dream of joining the mile-high club were severely busted whichever way you look at it.


“The air smells like maple syrup” is what I told my mom when I called her up. It was only later that I realized that the air does not smell like maple syrup but it was the car in which I was travelling which had the MAPLE-TREE freshener inside. Air in America actually smells like cigarettes. Look around & all I could see is people with cigarettes. There is this MULL-BORROW man & then there is the common man. Both of them smoke. One rides a horse while the other drives a car with one hand outside the window, fingers tightly gripping the cigarette butt, other hand on the steering wheel & head tilted so that he/she can hold the cell-phone between his/her ear & shoulder-blade.

Anyways, it didn’t take me long to figure out what the native people were really thinking of me coming here. I could read the message behind their fake smiles that damn easily. When native men smiled, I always thought they wanted to say, “get lost short fat guy with receding hairline who has come here to steal my job, lowlife!” irrespective of what kind of worker he was whereas chicks, & I mean hot chicks depicted their message loud n clear, “Buzz of four-eyes! Go find yourself an Indian chick. I am not going out with you!!!”
Under such circumstances the best thing to do is return the smile back & they should be able to read your message:- “whatever keeps you happy!!!”

One week after staying at senior’s place, I was introduced to other seniors from different departments. After exchanging pleasantries, all of them had one question for me…. “Why here? Couldn’t you find any other college to make your life miserable?” Hmmm…good question that one but the only answer I could think of was, “well, I thought I’d give you guys a company.”

The chick scenario here was sad. For me, when was it not? The native chicks didn’t give a damn while desi chicks were damned. I was hoping that I’d find someone interesting once the university opened. A week after the university opened, I thought I had found one, a special one, the only one. As luck would have had it, she was hooked up with some guy so I already gave up even before going for the kill.

There are some things a guy should not hesitate to go after. Getting a right girl is very essential. Someone who not only attracts you by her beauty and charm but also stimulates you by her intellect. Finding the right one is a not a problem if you are willing to try. Unfortunately, today’s so called right ones want a guy who is smart, rich and understanding. As for me, there is a long way to go before I fulfill my to-be right one’s criteria (if at all I manage to get the one I want).

-Peteboy


(This is part-2 of a three part mini series where the blogger wishes to share his experiences as he goes on to chase his so called dreams.)

22 December, 2007

MASTER & THE CONUNDRUM - I

It has been a while since I posted anything here. In fact, it has been a while since either of us posted anything here. I assume most of you know that I was kicked out of the house way back in August. My homies were obviously tired of entertaining me for last 20 something years & knowing that my dismal performance in studies led to abysmal performance in job related interviews; the only logical choice was to punish me for my deeds. A brief meeting was called sometime last year & it was decided that the only way in which I could redeem myself was by pursuing further education & by that they meant a masters’ degree not just from anywhere but a Masters from a country which God always blesses – America!

Fast-forward 1 year & here I am in some University in some state of US of A.

Before sending me off though, there were words of advice from my family.

My parents told me to study hard & reminded me how expensive education in the States is so it would be better if I could score good marks & get a scholarship or something like that. All I wanted to say to them was, “if you know how expensive education is in the States, can’t you make arrangements for a punishment which is financially not that hard on me given the fact that I’ll be the one paying for the education loan!!!”

My grand mom had no interest where I was heading but kept on harping upon the same string; her string being, “Pete, don’t fall in love with a girl who does not belong to our caste, creed & community!!!” Her words were more of a sucker-punch because


a) From what I know, there are hardly any girls from my caste/creed who are single
b) Girls from my caste/creed/community get hooked up quickly because they are intelligent, smart, brilliant cooks, good home-makers & yes…good looking too.
c) Due to the exceptional qualities mentioned above, guys from other caste/creed are the first ones to go after them & they succeed with minimal efforts (dunno how!)
d) If at-all there are any single girls from my cult left in USA, I am 100% sure they won’t be studying in the university I study in
e) You know I don’t know where to stop when I talk to girls if at-all I manage to start talking to them in the first place. So, “me” finding the “right one” yet “special one” is like England winning EURO 2008.
f) Whatever happened to secularism?

On the contrary, my aunts somehow managed to ask the same set of questions; as if they were communicating with each other thru’ telepathy just to check whether I was really going there to study or was going on a vacation, their question being:-

“Where exactly are you heading? As in; where? Which country? Which state? Which city? Which county? Why? How?”

The only thing I could surmise from these 20-questions was either they were so keen to know where I was heading so that they could come visit me during my vacations or that they wanted to keep in touch with me via mails so that I can be of some help when their kids are ready for “further studies”. Not that my aunts are bad…but just a thought.

Finally, it was my college friends’ turn. None of my school mates could come since they had already left for the promise land. During their three hour stay at my place, all we did was remember the good times we had during our four miserable years of college. Oh, they also emptied 5 bags of chips & 4 bottles of colas. When they were about to leave, they gifted me a swanky wrist-watch & made me swear that not only I bring each of them a watch when I come back to India but also update them my score every quarter. YOU GUYS…….!@#$%^&!!!!

When D-day arrived, my mom couldn’t control her emotions & the tears just wouldn’t stop flowing. This led to some kind of chain re-action due to which my dad, cousins, grandparents & aunts started crying too. I was the only one in my house with a dumbfounded look on my face so I switched on the T.V & started watching re-run of some old cricket match. It was the angry look on my dad’s face that made me realize that I hadn’t yet finished my packing & it was almost departure time. Eventually, we managed to pack everything in three suitcases: clothes, spices, utensils, groceries, ready-to-eat items, shoes, socks, towels, dishes, cleaning agents & what not. Things didn’t end there. My beloved aunts had prepared eatables which I had to take as a “don’t forget us” token (I told you they were all nice…I don’t castigate my relatives, get it!) and the zippers on all of my bags were just about holding it together. Eventually, I had to wear 2 sets of socks, t-shirts & undergarments so that the airline would not charge me for over-weight luggage. Not to mention a blazer & a jacket. Wow! August is so chilly & cold in INDIA isn’t it???

Approximately twenty people came to see me off at the airport. While I was travelling in my car, one cab led the way & another one followed us. Two motorcycles were already clearing the traffic for me. Had there been few more people and some music, this would have definitely looked like a “Ganpati Visarjan” procession. They were taking me to an ocean to immerse me for sure!!!!

After final few minutes with my family, I thanked everyone for coming & waved them goodbye. Everyone wished me luck & a Bollywood style dialogue summed it up, “Pete, don’t forget us!!!”

On my way in, I saw my family & well-wishers through the glass door. They were sobbing. I couldn’t. All I could do was flash my teeth & wave at them. Then I proceeded towards the vestibule. Before I went through the security check, I turned around for one last time. This time though, they were laughing, smiling…some even dancing. Some feeling proud, some feeling “heh heh heh…good riddens”. Somehow I got this feeling that it was my time to sob soon.



- Peteboy

(This is part-1 of a three part mini series where the blogger wishes to share his experiences as he goes on to chase his so called dreams. )