Chal Chaiyya Chaiyya 2a ( CCC2a)

Well the morning sun has blossomed and we have finally arrived at the Chicago Midway Airport. Midway is one of the best Airports I have ever been to. Despite only catering to the domestic air traffic, it can give a tough competetion to best of the international al airports .

Its an amazing experience to walk through the long automated walkways, surrounded by thick crystal clear glass walls all around and enjoying a breathtaking view of landing and departing planes as if you are standing righ there on the runway.

We reached our designated departure gate and when I looked around , I felt as if I was waiting in the boarding lounge of Chennai international airport savoring hot masala idlis and a cup of fresh filter café with white airy mundu on my waist and “top-button-left-opened” shining bright madras silk shirt over it . Tamil was the lingua franca of the hour. People moving around in Sweat Shirts and Chandan Tilaks on fore head, perfect example of globalization. U name it and I was seeing it in front of me.

It was Madrasis all around me man. For give me for using this word “Madrasi” as for thickhead punju guys like me from Delhi everything below MP is Madras and I and my coming seven generations can never develop those skills of distinguishing an andhrite from a tamilian or a telguite from a mallu chap .They all look same , they all wear same mundus ,they all talk in same dialect that sounds like someone his drumming on coconut shells with all his strength and in all their movies , all their heroes do those same gravity defying acts of stopping heaviest of trains and planes just by staring at them for around 10 seconds.

I read in Discovery of India that intelligent brahmincal Dravidians were pushed to south by the invasion of aggressive Aryans in north and since now they can’t be pushed further , because of risk of getting drowned in Indian ocean , The presence of modern day invaders like Arjun singh and Lalu Prasad Yadavs is now forcing this talent to quietly catch a late night Flight and land up in this holy Land of amreeka . That was the only answer my Logical and analytical brain can churn out at that moment for their presence in such huge numbers there.

So in midst of chaotic sounds of “Ayyeoh , Ille, wander wa” and North Indian gallis from couple of Punjus like me present their , we finally board the plan. One thing that I have observed in all my experience of taking Cheap , no frill airlines is that all Cheap airlines around the world competes to be who will act cheapest to its passenger. Unclean seats, late departures, artistic puke designs, lack of overhead luggage space, U name them and all airlines proudly provide you with all such cheap services. In Amreeka there is one more problem which we don’t see at least now in India. The Problem is airhostess, either they are OPhra Winfrey types or they are 50 years plus trying to act 18 years blondes. So with Madrasis all around me and no American babes to look around I try to doze off. SI is sitting on my next seat and fretting about the third women whom he has proposed last night has been again rejected unaware of the fact the guy sitting peacefully next to him has gone through the same experience some 3O times more .

Well I am woken up from my peaceful slumber by the sounds of the rolling food trolley. I asked Ophra Winfrey Air Hostess for an apple juice instead of Coke she was offering and she looked at me as if I am on a first date with her and asked her to pay the bill. But finally she did came out with a Juice can resulting in a mass movement of ALL desis after me asking for Apple Juice.

From New Jersey to our Final Destination New York, we decided to take the Coach from the Airport. The Bus ride was fabulous, SI with his 32 MB cam Clicking fanatically pics of every pole , red light and building that we were leaving behind on the expressway to New York and me enjoying the scenic pleasures outside.

A Desi couple in front of me are desperately trying to enjoy the freedom a free nation like Amreeka offers and I guess they are leaving no stone unturned to display in public the skills acquired reading Playboys and Pent house during their growing up years in India . .Looking at them and gauging their skills, I guess women must have been a brighter student and more hardworking in acquiring those skills.

And suddenly our bus enters a tunnel and there is complete darkness except for occasional orange colored strikes of big flash lights installed on both the sides of tunnel.
Trust me when I say this tunnel was long. I guess we would have been inside the tunnel for the time big enough for the couple in front of me to bring out their own issue of Penthouse.

But when the bus gradually came out of the tunnel and I looked at my left I fell in love with her, probably the most beautiful city I have ever seen. Yes I was finally in New York and on my left I saw the magnificent New York skyline over the Hudson River stretching as far as my eyes can go. Who says in today’s world “Love at first sight” is a thing of past. My eyes after a very long time fell in love with someone once again. It was her, the New York City.

Chal Chhaiya Chhaiya 1 (CCC 1)

Some one for whom procrastination is religion and the last moment deadlines are way of life, its very difficult to gear up and switch on the electric impulses of his dumb mind. This dumb mind , despite being in the first world nation of amreeka likes to go on a load shedding schedule twice a day, three hours each, just to remind Sethi Sahib of his Delhi roots.

But today Sethi Sahib finally decides to plug in all the invertors and generators of his high on load shedding mind and write to you about My NYC and Washington trip that I undertook during the long weekend at end of May.

Well what should be the title of the post? Sethi Sahib always gets confused about two things in life , One what should be the title of his posts and secondly What does the women mind think of men ( If at all something like women mind exist ) and as always I end up liking the weird title and weird women and as always getting myself screwed up in the end.

So lets call this post which I plan to write in three series as Chal Chaiyaa Chaiyaa 1 2 and 3. You can also call it as CCC 1 , CCC2 and CCC3 ( Pronouncing C three times separtaely without substituting the word "Tripple") .Sounds like some one’s tongue is on fire after eating at my favorite Paapu da Dhabba Joint on National Highway 3.

Well there are reasons to the title. Yes! Sethi Sahib can be reasonable at times , so what that reasons make sense only to him. First I wanted somehow SRK to be linked to this post , secondly after seeing “Inside man”, watching Danziel Washington roaming in streets of New York with this song playing at the background I knew no matter what I write, this has to be title of my NY post and thirdly 1, 2 and 3 reminds me of another favorite of mine , Mr. Tom Cruise ( SRK of USA )

Well the long explanation above reminds me of how women send long and eloquent rejection letters to the men courting them. Sample this “You are the best man I have ever met, you are too good , may god be with you , may u get all the best in life, may you become Prime Minister of India and press the nukes on the Pakis but I guess what I want is some fool, shit head to come and ruin my life. So lets be friends” Ha ha ha , LOL, so now u know whatever u might think of this title , I love weird titles, weird women and getting screwed up in the end . So lets be friends.

Well the above lines are dedicated to all those guys who after reading my last post, specifically requested to bring back BB ( Bandi Bashing ) element back in my posts . Guys your mails rock and this one is especially for you.

And women, I already told you, I like getting screwed myself in the end and this is one such step in that direction.

With everyone being happy now I proceed to describe one of the most memorable experiences that Sethi Sahib ever had in his life and invite you all to be a part of this second Journey with me ( For those of you who are new to my blog , Read the Post titled “Aaati Kya Khandala” for the first journey.)

Day 1: Saturday 27th May, Time 4.15 AM, Place Chicago Downtown, My 22nd Floor Apartment

SI knocks at the door and as usual runs away to the far end of the ally. I am still not able to figure out why he always has to do this. He knocks hard with all his strength on the door. You rush and immediately open the door only to discover there is no one outside. You have to come out and look around , shout at the top of your voice “KAUN HAI “ and then only he makes his grand entry from the far end of the lobby. May be he thinks, Sethi Sahib would let loose some exothermic nucleic explosion if he is found standing in front of the door after knocking it.

Anyways, Lets come back to the trip again. Being a staunch procastanist, I was able to complete my packing only at around 1 past midnight with the nerve wracking feeling of having forgotten half of the things. Thus it’s just 3 hours of sleep as we proceed out towards our mission NY and DC

4.30 AM in the morning and we are walking towards the CTI train station to catch the metro for the airport. Never seen Chicago downtown so early in the morning. Summers have set in and so not much of chill in the air. Surprising for us, as it was only a month ago that we were experiencing sub zero temperatures and ice freezing breezes.

The Downtown looks sleepy as if, even the skyscrapers have decided to take a long nap after 5 tiring days of being bog down by all the money generating activities going on in their premises. It’s still dark, and I am silently enjoying the shining downtown skyline. In next 15 minutes sun would come up. Being summers , daylight shines bright for cool 16 hours a day here.

The Busy Metro Station at Western Loop looks deserted. In India at least you can find a Chaiwaalah or Paan waalah to give you company at a station platform at any point of time but I guess today I have to live without that sonorous “Chai Chai” calls that I have always imagine being synonymous with Train journeys in India.

We procure the tickets from the vending machine and enter the platform to wait for the 5 o Clock Orange Line Train towards the Airport. And suddenly we see something familiar. Yes! we see two of our colleagues from office coming towards the Station. It’s the first long weekend of summers and everyone here seems to be in hurry to swap places. They are going to LA. Well its best choice if you are a husband and wife couple like them, but we being three guys can just look forward for exciting New York and its rocking night life.

The first thing an Indian Techie do on his arrival in the holy land of America is to buy a digicam so that he could click picture of every Dustbin ,trash , tissue and anything he can lay his eyes on in the holy land and send them back home . After all if its from America It has to be good . We too have our Digicams ready and loaded up . SI is itching to press the first Click of the morning. In his enthusiasm of clicking photographs , he has purchased a cool 1 GB Memory chip for his Cannon , so what only last night he has discovered that maximum memeory his Cannon can support is upto 256 MB and his new card is now as worthelss as Mallika Sherawat with her clothes on . So despite having lost 65 bucks ( Multiply by 45 if reading from India ) in buying 1 GB card and having to do with 32 MB of default memory his enthusiasm for clicking pictures is still rock solid.

After torturing himself for about an hour since morning, he finally decides to request the couple from our office to take our first snap of the journey. And once the initial inhibitions are lost it’s a photo clicking party at 4.45 AM on the platform. Everyone taking snaps of everyone. And before any more of thousands of GBS of digital space gets wasted, we can hear the arriving train and we quickly hop on the train on our way towards the Airport.

No matter which place of the world you are traveling, Early Morning Train Journeys always have something inherently romantic about them. The flirtations between sounds of the moving train and serene and peaceful morning silence cheers you up for the day. I am letting my senses sink in the freshesness of the morning as I gaze outside the large glass window towards a streak of Yellow light, slowly transforming itself into a bright circular disc. There are people inside but no human sounds to hear. I guess no one wants to disturb the rising sun to come out in its full glory. Even SI has decided to give his Camera a breath or two and is silently enjoying the view from his window. There are some moments in life No camera on earth can capture.

Unfinished!

It’s December.

The lights are dim inside. May be lights are not even switched on and the only light that enters the dark confines of the room is the occasional flash from the headlight of a lonely car racing past the road about half a mile away.

Probably the driver has lost his way back home.

The rickety heater is glowing orange hot, burning its heart out in a desperate attempt to add some kind of heat to the moist, chilling cold inside. Reminding of a red brick furnace inside a steel plant, trying to swallow and melt never ending rows of metallic plates one after another.

The blue, purple shades of night, black darkness of the room coupled with occasional silver streaks of headlight flashes, intermingles with a bright orange spot burning at the far end of the room.

It’s a silent night. The kind of silence where even your thoughts echo back twice in the room if you let them go out of the deep confines of your heart.

I lie on my steel framed bed, feeling the chill and the warmth hitting simultaneously on parts of my exposed skin that have sub consciously crawled out of the cozy quilt just like an ignorant child unknowingly sneaks out of his parent’s custody.

It’s the perfect stillness. The stillness one observes in the old black and white photographs staring aimlessly at its visitors in an art gallery. Even the old Kent wall clock has stopped ticking. Time, it seems, has finally decided to take a halt tonight after running infinitely for years together.

It’s a heady mix of silence, stillness, chill, warmth and darkness.

I could not sleep and gaze infinitely with my eyes wide open at the ceiling fan above me which looks like of not having moved its wings since centuries together.

Thousands of Images from the past fly in front of me in a manner similar to the way an automatic money counting machine furiously flips bundles of notes in a matter of few seconds.

“Have I lost the battle?” I silently put across a question to myself making sure that the thoughts do not escape the small confines of my heart and disturb the stillness of the room.

And in that moment of uncertainty and doubt, I roll my eyes on my left.

I see you.