Charlotte Airport

A lady wearing blue jeans and a pale yellow jacket walks across the Food court area. She is carrying a black background, white polka-dotted handbag on her side. She heads straight for McDonalds and stands in line to place her order. So, that is her favorite amongst all of Pizza Hut, Subway, Quiznos etc. Her standard fall back option. Mine would be Quiznos. (Only because I can expect a decent vegetarian meal from it). Another woman joins the line soon. This time its a a blue shirt over embroidered jeans. Good taste I think. After spending a few hours of shopping in New York over the weekend, my taste for fashion is certainly ignited. I can see myself taking special interest in watching what people wear. I remember we used to do this often as a pastime during our college days, it was a lot of fun. Another woman just crosses my table. She is carrying a multi-colored Jaipuri printed bag. With blue and brown as the foundation colors on the bag, I notice that she wears a coffee colored skirt and a light cream top alongwith it. Everything matches so well. Would she wear any other dress while carrying that bag? Or is she one of those who have a matching bag and a sandal for every dress they own. I see that she also wears a white pearl necklace.

Amidst all this, I hear the siren of a moving cart. There are two old ladies and one young woman sitting on it along with a lady driver. They have a smile on their faces. A smile as if they are class I travelers in a train. Lower class people have to walk on their own feet carrying their luggage. They would also give them way as the cart moves across. All the driver needs to do is blow the siren constantly. But he is patient about it.

A guy comes and parks a cart close to other carts and takes out his 25 cent reward from the machine. My friend F and I exchange a glance. We both think the same thing at the moment. We then start reminiscing about how Tom Hanks earns his money in the movie Terminal. We calculate, 25 cents * 10 (carts) = 2.5 dollars. So, you can at least get one burger a day if you can get hold of ten empty carts and park them here. I go a step ahead and calculate 25 cents * 20 (carts) = 5 dollars. So if he can manage 20 carts then he should be able to get food twice a day. How difficult would it be to manage getting 20 carts in a day, my mind prods. Somehow, I want to settle in my mind that it is not difficult to do that. I want evidence that someone doing this can easily manage to have food at least twice a day. If he remains hungry, it would be sad. I feel a perturbation about it.

By now, I feel a slight pain in my wrist. I realize I am not using any support for the writing. I am scribbling uncomfortably on my lap and my hand posture is not good. Deciding to take a break, while I take a short glance around exercising my wrist, I see people looking at me suspiciously. They seem puzzled about what this woman is upto - looking around and scribbling something constantly. My neighbor even sneaks a peek into my writing but I am sure at the speed with which I scribble, my handwriting is so illegible, that she would only worsen the suspense for herself. For a moment, I feel like a criminal. I try to look normal and make a logical conversation with F. I am not insane or prodding into your lives is the message I want to get across. Finally, I choose to stop writing.

Those treasure hunts

Car keys and I don’t go together. In fact keys and I don’t go together. I can also add that wallet, and cash and hair bands and safety pins and buttons and umbrellas and all that paraphernalia and I, don't go together. We constantly elude each other. We like to play hide and seek. We have a distant relationship. It is some conspiracy of nature, some joke of God, or some repulsive magnetic field thing. Or wait, maybe it’s simply that my mind likes to ponder about bigger things. The higher stuff. Alright, enough of blah. The truth is that I am absent minded and I agree.

Here is something that has often happened with me. I come home with some really important document or key or gadget or anything like that. Of course, my extremely careful self puts that thing in some real safe and logical reasonable place. And then after that my mind forgets about it completely. Now, after a few days or months, the time for fruition comes when that very treasure needs to be retrieved. And the search begins. And ends with the thing nowhere in sight. And then as days pass and one fine evening, I am looking for something else I find my old treasure (it is accompanied by a small private moment of pride and appreciation on what a fine place I had kept it in).

Like it happened last time when I was on my India trip this winter. I had taken my winter jacket and was wearing and flaunting it most of the time. Winters are pretty cold in Delhi although they are nothing compared to US. Anyways, so I was wearing the jacket often. One of those times I noticed that the button on the top front side was loose. I immediately removed it and kept it in a safe place waiting to fix it sometime later. Incidentally, the next few days were warmer and I did not have to wear the jacket. Then one day it became very cold again and I took out my jacket suddenly  remembering that the button had come off. Obviously it had to be fixed now before I put it on. I started to look around for the saved button. After looking around a lot I couldn't find any.

Anyways, I managed the winter there with some other jackets, shawls, pullovers. I knew however, that I was going to take this jacket back to US because it was really a warm and nice one. So, with many more search operations (private ones while faking to look for something else) and no success, I reluctantly bought a whole new set of buttons and got them stitched onto the jacket. Reluctant because the older buttons were really fashionable and went very well with it and I did not find any new ones even nearly comparable in style or look. I eventually settled my mind for this new compromise.

Time flew. Soon the trip ended and I was back in US. As I began to unpack guess what happened? I found the lost button. It was in the handbag I had checked umpteen times before. How you ask? In a way it was in the handbag but in a way it was not. Kind of like Hai bhi aur nahin bhi hai (I am suddenly reminded of the scene in the Bollywood movie Chupke Chupke, where Amitabh is trying to tell Jaya how Corolla is a flower and yet it is not; something like that... that movie is my all time favorite by the way). Let me unravel the mystery quick. So, it was inside that handbag, but it was inside a small purse inside the handbag (kinda small pouch where I keep most of my important stuff like, home keys, some jewelry, important receipts and all that). So, when I searched, I searched in the main big handbag, but not in the bag inside the bag. You see? ... It is really sounding a bit like hai bhi and nahin bhi hai, isn't it? :)

So now, I have the old jacket with the new buttons sewed onto it and the old nicer buttons all safely tucked in some 'safe' place. And … do I know where? Umm... I 'll have to check with my mind and get back to you on that.

A paranoid's account

The decision
She: After contemplating the pros and cons a number of times, "Alright, then I'll go for it".
F: "You can still think about it and get back to me by the evening".
She: "No, I think it should be okay. These days sunrise is pretty early so 5:00 am would not be bad. By the time I am there, it would be bright already."
F: "Okay then, we'll see you soon".

The conversation ends there. A decision has been made. There is still an uncanny feeling but she brushes it off. Recently moved from India taking a cab at night is a big deal. Or not. She is brave. 'It's all in your mind', she comforts herself. The day goes in reading, planning and packing. There is excitement about meeting old friends.

Calling the cab
Soon it is evening. There is call from F again and whatever jitters remain calm down. Time to call the cab guy (CG).

She: "Hi, I need a cab at 5:00 am in the morning to go to the airport"
CG: "What address?"
She: "260, Milson Rd, Apt A-7, Drexton."
CG: "See you in the morning ma'am", in a gleeful, high spirited voice.

Did the driver sound too friendly? Now he knows that there is a woman who is travelling alone in the morning in the dark. Even if it's morning, it's as dark as night. The am or pm doesnt really matter, does it? Was it a wrong decision?

The phone rings again, its mom's sweet voice and there is peace. Time to sleep.

Morning jitters
Wakes up an hour before the alarm is supposed to ring. A bad dream. An uneasy feeling. Can this be an indicator that something bad is going to happen? Her intuition is strong. But she is also paranoid, she knows. She again brushes off the negative thoughts and focuses on the chores.

Its 4:50 am. She is ready. The phone rings.

Caller: "Did you call for a cab for the morning?"
She: "Yes."
Caller: "I am at Wilson st. Do I need to take a turn ...", asks for directions.
She: "...." gives directions.

After 5 minutes, phone rings again.

Caller: "Baby, I am here, waiting for you outside."
She: "Okay, I 'll be there in a couple of minutes."

It's a weird male voice. He addresses her "Baby" without even meeting. That's eerie. Anyways, she musters all her courage, remembers all the Gods, locks her door and walks up to the cab. It is dark outside. Very dark.

The Close shave
Driver: "Hi" in a feminine voice.
She: "Hi" a pleasantly surprised voice after knowing the cab driver is female.

But wait, she looks really weird. She is bulky. Curly hair, lot of make up on the face and heavy jewellery. Why would she wear all this? The fears are now coming back. Shake it off, woman, she says to herself and tries to make a conversation. She knows that is her only chance to make her feel better. Otherwise, her mind is going to cook stories of its own.

She: "So, you had to wake up early in the morning to pick me up?" trying to sound like one with a sense of humor.
Driver: "Oh no not really." And then she turns back and makes a weird face and smiles sarcastically, "you know, I am a night driver. I like to travel in the night. No one around. Empty streets."
She: Gulps and manages a bleek "Oh ok", but the stress on the word night has shaken her to the core.

There is silence. Butterflies in stomach. Trying hard to brush weird thoughts aside. Suddenly the cab turns to a street that would go on to meet the freeway. It is a two miles long stretch. There is forest on both sides and the empty road. And darkness. All noises would be easily muffled. What chance does she have if the driver stops the car onto the side and decides to be hostile. Heard of being at the wrong place at the wrong time? The 80% forest area in NC was only beautiful in the day, she thought. At night, she would prefer to be in the ever busy streets of Manhattan, NY.

More butterflies. If bad is going to happen anyways, it rather happen now. Make a conversation. Dig deeper. Face the truth, now!

She: "Are you taking Gorman to I-40?"
Driver: A curt "Yes", in a matter of factly tone, as if she knows what she is doing and she does not want to reveal more.

She musters her courage again and tries to break the silence.

She: "So, how long have you been in Drexton?"
Driver: "Quite a while actually. I came here many years ago. So its been a long time, yeah." Sounds a little warm this time and real.
She: "Ok. So do you like it here?" trying to sound cool hiding her shakiness.
Driver: "Umm .. yeah ... actually yes. Its a nice small place. Its warm. Nice people."

'Nice people' she said. She likes nice people. That sounds comfortable! But it's still dark. Some more conversation would help.

She: "Yeah. I like it too here", sounding as amicable as possible, trying hard to connect.
Driver: "Do you study here? Going for vacation for Easter haan?"
She: Getting comfortable now, and genuinely interested in the conversation for a change, "Yeah, I am here with my husband, studying ... Going to friends on the long weekend..."
Driver: "You married so young?"
She: Clarifying, "Well, I turned 30 this year. That isnt so young."
Driver: "Oh ..I have two daughters in their 20's ... like you my older one doesn't look her age ...".
She: "..."
Driver: "..."

Back to good old days
Soon the passenger discovers that the driver is not a threat to her life after all. In fact she is a nice benign person who knows about the Indian "Chapatti", "Parantha", "Tandoori chicken". Add to that she has also learnt a few words in Hindi through her Indian friends. She is from Kenya. There is a regular mention of her family during the conversations. In between, she cracks a joke or two and chuckles. Her laughter is no more evil. It is genuine, innocent and carefree. Even infectious. So much for the paranoia and the butterflies. The rest of the 20 minutes are plane friendly chat. They wish each other Happy Easter. They also discuss how they wonder why Easter was on a Sunday when it is supposed to be on the third day after Good Friday, which should be a Monday. They both feel strongly about it, but let it go. Soon they are at the airport. She leaves her card and says anytime they need a cab she could be their personal driver. They wish each other good luck and happy vacations. The driver gets a good tip.

So maybe the lady driver likes to travel in the night because there is no traffic after all, she contemplates in a light mood during the flight. On reaching her destination she shares this account with friends. They find this atrociously funny and unbelievable. They cannot understand how someone can be so paranoid.


It happens.

A dream forlorn

Just some personal thoughts ...

It's a dream, forlorn.

At the crack of dawn-
Between the sea and the beautiful sky
On the brink of horizon,
With the promise of sunrise…
A hope is born.

The divine hand –
A dancing breeze, some soaring waves
Whispers of land to the sails…
A frail boat lingers on.

Thus, stroke after stroke,
On the canvas of hope…
A picture is drawn.

Faith is thy name,
Oh the light in my flame.
My dream you adorn.

With the storms, will you haggle?
From my side, will you battle?
For the question hereon -
“Will she, wont she
Enkindle her dream of aeon?"

It's a dream, forlorn.

Child is the father of..?

Yesterday I was at my doctor's clinic for a regular follow up check up. While I sat and waited for my turn to come, the entrance door opened and a sweet innocent looking girl around 7-8 years in age hopped in. She was accompanied by her dad. She had two little pony tails tied side to side and was wearing a beautiful pink frock with white socks and pink shoes. Her features confirmed her Asian ancestry. My cheeks automatically expanded into a big smile looking at her. She gave back her beautiful toothful smile to me. Or so I thought.

While her dad went on for the formalities, this until-now apostle of innocence walked right up to me.

She: "Hey, would you like to read out books with me?"

Me: "Of course, I would." in a sweet loving voice.

S: Brought in 2 books, "Which one would you like to read?"

M: "Any one. Which one would you like? Why don't you choose first?" again in a sweet loving voice, trying to be very nice to the sweet kid.

S: Sounding a little authoritative and intolerant, "Which one would you like to read?" as if indicating that I should hurry in choosing and not waste time.

M: I did not get it still, and I thought she was just being nice to me for letting me pick, so I repeated, "Hey why don't you choose?"

S: Staring at the books with a hands up gesture in the air indicating You are wasting my time, decide fast.

M: Oops! I started sensing the oddness now. "Alright, I 'll go for this one"

And then we read a couple of lines from those books and of course, she was bored enough. She put the book aside and went up to the rack again asking me if I would like to play puzzles with her. I said, "Sure, I would love too."

S: "Why do you like everything?"

M: !@!$@%!!!?

S: "Are you a kid that you like everything?"

M: "Uh ..." mumbling for words, not prepared for this.

Actually on second thoughts given our current relationship, it did feel like she was the authoritative parent and I the kid. I kept ignoring while just focusing on observing her and what to do to just keep this going. We went ahead and played some puzzles. She told me I was bad at them but then she added, "Or are you acting to be bad?"

M: More ^%^%&^@#???

Then she took out a drawing book from her bag. And she asked me to draw with her. I told her I was not good at drawing at all so why doesn't she just go ahead and do the drawing herself. I'll help her with the colors. She snapped, "No! You also do it along with me. All you need to know to draw is you need to be within the lines". $%$$%??!!

Finally I was called for my checkup. As I got up, I said,"Alright, will you see some time, you take care kid."

And there was another waiting for me. "I am never going to be here again. Do you think we have a chance to meet here again? Why do you say, see you again?"

I managed a meek "Alright then bye, take care". Hoping there would not be yet another waiting for me.

Friday suspense

Today afternoon we had an interesting experience. While I was sitting cozily on the couch close to the dining area, trying some simulations for my research, and my roommate J concentrating hard on her office laptop, we heard a subtle knock on the door. We generally do not have a lot of visitors at our place. Any friends who visit, call beforehand. Moreover, it was like 1pm in the day. Most likely some Amazon delivery I thought. After a quick glance at me (who had a lazy expectant look on her face so someone else could do the honors), J walked up to the door. I saw some two guys entering into the living room. From where I sat, I could only see the entrance door, but a part of the living room was hidden due to the kitchen wall. For a moment I felt reluctant to walk up and join them. But then for decency sake, I just put my laptop aside and walked up to the sitting area.

After doing the greetings stuff I made a quick scan of them. They both were formally dressed and half-smilingly half-seriously discussing something with J. Also, they did not sit. They were standing. It was only when I made out the shape of a holster stuck neatly at the waist belt of one of the men, I realized what kind of a matter it was! They were the police! What was police doing in our apartment? What were they talking so seriously? Of course, all this happened in a split of a second. And only then I started paying attention to the conversation.

Police man (P): "... building ....building.... board".
J: " ...."
I thought I rather get involved in the discussion.
Me: "Is there a problem?"
P: "Ma'am we have been reported that you have rice boards at your place with maps of buildings drawn over them."
Me: "Maps? buildings? What's a rice board?" I managed with some nervousness and some confusion. Actually he meant Frieze board, but in my somewhat shaky state of mind I din't quite catch him.
P: "I mean any whiteboards you have, we have been reported that there is something suspicious. As in there are maps of buildings drawn on those boards. Do you mind if we have a look?"

We agreed instantly. Anything to clear off the doubts! We had only two of them, one in the living room on which J had scribbled some to-dos around buying stuff etc. So with one small glance they looked eager to see the next one. We took them to the next which was in my bedroom. After a glance at that (which definitely had some lines drawn across horizontally and vertically with some semi circles etc here and there and arrows), one of them smiled and said, "Electronics stuff? energy band diagrams?" I nodded hard like Noddy. The whiteboard had the heading "Flash memory", it was dated 08/27/yy (never used since then eh .. what does it say of my planning/organizing rather execution capabilities?) and it had the semiconductor energy band structures and some electronic transitions marked with arrows. J smiled and added "She is studying electronics at NC State". Thankfully, they smiled and nodded along too. Then they apologized for the inconvenience caused and mentioned that they appreciated the cooperation and left.

Woah! what was that? I mean, I was a little shaken by that experience. Not from the point of view that I felt bad or humiliated. They were doing the right thing. Making sure the community (and country) was safe. Only that after this incidence, I actually realized how grave was the sense of insecurity among people post 9-11. I would not imagine a thing like a simple whiteboard with some scratched lines catching such attention. One incidence, years ago could have that impact. I have heard of various stories on TV, even from my acquaintences and friends having similar experiences. But it hits you more when it happens to you. It's a mystery though how someone actually saw that board in my bedroom, because my bedroom window is always closed. If it's open we are inside so no one can peep in. Maybe some maintenance guys who came in for pest sprays. Whatever ... But I really hope all terrorism of the world comes to an end, soon!

So much for building maps and investigations...

Just for the fun of it though, I am including the picture of my accused (but proven innocent) whiteboard, here. Please cheer it! (ps: On second thoughts, does it look like a building map from any angle or are some people really dumb?)

My absent minded friend

My close and old time friend S was going to pick his fiancee from the Delhi Airport. She was coming back after a trip to somewhereland. It was a little rainy that day and in Delhi when its rainy it often becomes messy and muddy and foggy. Anyways, after some struggle he did make it to the airport on time. At the airport, they took a prepaid Auto for home and reached back safe and sound. Once home, he asked his mom for some change to give to the Autowalah. His mom dint have words, "Change? for what? Where is the car you took to the airport, beta?".