Hot Chocolate anyone...?
I have landed in New Delhi, India.
Once I figured out that India compared to the US isn’t that different internet-wise I decided to update my blog so that I wouldn’t forget what all I have done here.
So I flew on Sunday, the 17th and well that’s a story by itself. Turns out we forgot my cancelled passport at home, which had my visa for India in it. We aren’t exactly next door neighbors with Newark Airport, so my dad drove like a maniac and luckily he made it back in time so his impatient, anxious twins could check-in.
Besides me catching up on a full semester’s worth of sleep on the flight, the flight was without incident. We landed in Delhi, collected our 8 suitcases and 4 handbags and trudged onwards towards the walk of shame. I call the walk leaving the baggage claim to the arrival gate where everyone is waiting for you.. The walk of shame. They all stare you down as if they can smell that you are using a different brand of soap, shayed something that works, and it makes me feel as if I did something wrong. It’s a childhood thing so I can’t really explain it.
The funny thing is I feel as if I have been eating since I have arrived here. Forget any bridal outfit looking good on me, so much for that fantasy coming true. Think I shall make a pretty bride? I hope so…
I love this country. The music that blares out of the rusted, rickshaws expelling black smoke as they carry full families to their destination.. to the wrinkly shopkeeper who smiles proudly displaying his tobacco stained teeth while he shouts out commands to his numerous ghulams who all scurry away with their heads bowed… or maybe it’s the colors that bring the city alive for me.. from the egotistical peacock showing off his fanned feathers, to the sari’s draped in shop windows. I don’t know what it is, but I am in love with India.
But as much as I love India…I miss home. My overworked dad who claims he needs to oversee business so that his children can spend happily and without worry, my furry little hair ball of a puppy who loves to lick my face and my legs after I hop out of the shower, my brother who left us at the airport with the simple statement of, “now you are gone. .I can beat all of my games!”
I miss Starbucks hot chocolate, Pho and I noodles with chicken, walking into the wee hours of the morning and freezing to death but burning up at the same time, Curry Student Center pool competitions, Info commons and the intensive talks that lasted until 5 in the morning, leaves scattered around campus with secret messages written on them, and staring at the moon wondering who else might be staring at it to…
But as I see it... all of the memories from last semester and soon to be last year…are just the tip of the iceberg… for more memories are yet to be made.
Once I figured out that India compared to the US isn’t that different internet-wise I decided to update my blog so that I wouldn’t forget what all I have done here.
So I flew on Sunday, the 17th and well that’s a story by itself. Turns out we forgot my cancelled passport at home, which had my visa for India in it. We aren’t exactly next door neighbors with Newark Airport, so my dad drove like a maniac and luckily he made it back in time so his impatient, anxious twins could check-in.
Besides me catching up on a full semester’s worth of sleep on the flight, the flight was without incident. We landed in Delhi, collected our 8 suitcases and 4 handbags and trudged onwards towards the walk of shame. I call the walk leaving the baggage claim to the arrival gate where everyone is waiting for you.. The walk of shame. They all stare you down as if they can smell that you are using a different brand of soap, shayed something that works, and it makes me feel as if I did something wrong. It’s a childhood thing so I can’t really explain it.
The funny thing is I feel as if I have been eating since I have arrived here. Forget any bridal outfit looking good on me, so much for that fantasy coming true. Think I shall make a pretty bride? I hope so…
I love this country. The music that blares out of the rusted, rickshaws expelling black smoke as they carry full families to their destination.. to the wrinkly shopkeeper who smiles proudly displaying his tobacco stained teeth while he shouts out commands to his numerous ghulams who all scurry away with their heads bowed… or maybe it’s the colors that bring the city alive for me.. from the egotistical peacock showing off his fanned feathers, to the sari’s draped in shop windows. I don’t know what it is, but I am in love with India.
But as much as I love India…I miss home. My overworked dad who claims he needs to oversee business so that his children can spend happily and without worry, my furry little hair ball of a puppy who loves to lick my face and my legs after I hop out of the shower, my brother who left us at the airport with the simple statement of, “now you are gone. .I can beat all of my games!”
I miss Starbucks hot chocolate, Pho and I noodles with chicken, walking into the wee hours of the morning and freezing to death but burning up at the same time, Curry Student Center pool competitions, Info commons and the intensive talks that lasted until 5 in the morning, leaves scattered around campus with secret messages written on them, and staring at the moon wondering who else might be staring at it to…
But as I see it... all of the memories from last semester and soon to be last year…are just the tip of the iceberg… for more memories are yet to be made.
posted by Khush51 at 3:40 AM
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