Flight TO The Phoenix

Have you ever felt like everything you ever put your hand into turned out rotten, even though the possibility of it rotting is like… hmm 0.00001percent?? Well I had reached that point in my life and had been living in that not-so-tiny ‘point’ for a while until the glorious day of 09/09/09.
Long story short, I really needed my visa, jus to know that what I am feeling was not for real.. that the reason things had been constantly going wrong in the most unreal ways, was not entirely ME but something else. According to some it were my stars… well I have nobody to blame it on so “My Stars” it is! Thankfully the stars did move and I did get my visa confirmation… on 09/09/09 and I was to fly to Sheffield (UK) on the 14th of Sept 2009.
I am now in Sheffield, it’s the 21st of September (even thought this post shall be published much later thanks to the absence of internet..sigh) and tomorrow is the day my classes shall truly begin. Yay! (im no nerd but ive been an unemployed workaholic for way too long)
I’d love to tell you about Sheffield and my apartment at the PHOENIX COURTS and the people here but before that I promised a friend I’d write about my flight here from Bangalore. So jerk…this ones for you.
I’l start from the very beginning.
My flight was to depart on 14th early morning and I had to be at the airport at 3am… And since I am a ‘girl’ (whatever that’s supposed to imply!), I am weirdly attached to everything I truly love or have possessed for a long time… I try not to be.. I really do.. but I think its imprinted on the X chromosome and it sucks that we, women, got 2 of those.
So as my parents drove me to the airport, through the worst rain the city faced this year, on 14th morning, I sat in the back seat dismantling my cell phone to remove my beloved old Hutch sim (the doggy was called Hutch when I bought it).. I held it in my hands n silently said “You have served me well through my good times, bad times, great times n the worst times.. but you can’t follow me anymore… so fare thee well ol’ friend” (no im not shitting you.. yes I actually said those words in my head.. cos I’ve had him for 5 years now… and boy has he brought some life changing sms’es and calls) Anyway we reach the airport.. I weigh my bags on the weighing scale outside the airport praying to God it isn’t over my baggage allowance, for if it is, all ill have to carry to UK will be warm jackets, gloves and garam masala and will have to say my ‘fare thee well’s to da bare min number of t-shirts n jeans I could pack. Like I said, good times were coming.. my bags weighed just the right amount and I was all set to check in. Said G’bye to my parents… and NO there was no crying (I wonder why…hmmm).. I don’t cry in public… When I do, somethings really wrong. And That fine rainy day nothing was “really wrong”. I’ve lived out before I told myself its gonna be okay n swore I would make a conscious effort to not even think about how far UK actually is from Bangalore. (damn typing this brought it back but im good at pushing thoughts aside so phew! No worries there!). But for now my life was gonna restart, I had a fresh new sheet and a new box of crayons to scribble with.
So I’m standing in the queue to check-in. The staff who was checking in my baggage, im telling ya looked like Saif Ali Khan… I mean seriously.. The moment I laid my eyes on him, everybody in the airport started singing “Aahun Aahun Aahun”.. no.. it wasn love at first sight, it was wake-me-up-at-2-am-n-this-is-wat-happens!… I made sure he knew my flight was via Heathrow and I shall be on a connecting flight to Manchester ( the last time I flew this way was Dubai- Bombay- Bangalore, I was in Bombay and my baggage was is a whole different city).
Im given my boarding pass and walk upto the security check, 'cooking in my own juices' in my very heavy jacket that im wearing cos well the damn thing is probably 5 kgs and I had no baggage allowance left. At the security check i hear someone call out to me. Now even though I probably looked baggy eyed, on the inside I was alert and kinda jittery about flying alone.. I certainly dint expect anybody I knew to scream out to me anytime soon. It was a high school classmate, who was always nothing more than an acquaintance… in high school, because she was too giggly… and now because she would send me the most “Hallmarky SMSes” that even Hallmark rejected due to excessive Hallmark-ness. Anyway there she was chirping my name out so I chat with her for a while, meanwhile I notice the big yellow hairy teddy bear she has in her hand with a “British Airways” tag around its ear..yes.. hand baggage… a yellow hairy bear… now I have nothing against teddy bears.. I possess a Winnie the Pooh too who I wudve luved to bring here.. but I dint, for the same reason that most Adults claim to not love Cream Biscuits and Jam.
I finish security and am waiting to board the flight.. I have 2 hours to kill and thank my sister and brother-in-law for buying me an ipod. I decide to call dad to tell him im okay and India is glad to parcel me off. That’s when mum tells me she met my high school class teacher, who I loved btw, at the airport and im thinking “WHAT IS GOING ON HERE??!?! Im super excited about my brand new future and my life is on reverse gear??!?!”. Anyway turns out her son, who was my senior in high school, is also on my flight and is going to London to study. Mum says “Hes wearing a brown jacket.. talk to him okay”. Last I saw him was in 2000, then he was freakishly shy, skinny with curly hair. I figured it, now it being 2009, and me watching myself grow from the High-School-Me (don’t wanna talk about it) to the Today-Me, he must’ve changed too and probably the curly hairdo would’ve remained…. I look around and notice 6 men in a brown jacket, and 5 more with no jackets at all hence there existed a possibility of them wearing a brown jacket… 7 of these 11 were students and ALL of them had crew cuts (understandable, as I too sport a shorter than usual hairdo these days for I’d rather spend Pounds on food than getting a haircut…. After about 30 minutes, I spot him, with 3 other guys, figure hes been okay and HAS grown as I predicted. N continued listenin to music too keep me awake until take off.
Its finally time to board.. Saif is there again collecting our boarding passes. I find my seat which is the absolute last in the aircraft (53 J)… A Brunette lady is seated beside me.. The plane takes off n somewhere around that time I doze off… Next thing I remember is the air hostess waking me up for breakfast, “would u like an asian or a regular breakfast mam?”… im still sleepy and the thought of sitting in a place for 10 hours with nobody to talk to was beginning to make me fidgety. I try to enjoy my first English breakfast. Thankfully later on they had a whole range of movies for me to watch during the flight… so I went from “ghosts of my past girlfriends…. Night at a museum 2… scrubs…. Delhi 6… x men origins” … Meanwhile I venture into lala land again n another air hostess wakes me up “would you like something to drink mam”..”can I have a coffee please”.. “actually we serve liquor”..(huh?.. BHAM im awake) “no thanks ill have a coke”.. Beside me the woman had laid down her whole set of cosmetics which was packed like the knives the Chefs own from the ‘Top Chef’ and was coating herself with her 3rd coat of whatever that is. I wished I had gotten my visa a day earlier so I would’ve flown with my 2 other flat mates... Finally Heathrow arrived.. I get off and walk towards emigration after which I was sent for a health check up.. I had my chest xrays done in Bangalore (the 1st normal chest X ray I saw… never showed us one in college.. they were always either consolidated lung tissue or fluid/pus/air filled). Next was the security check in the UK.. here theyre really strict, like we’re all out to bomb UK.. KABOOM!.. so I had my shoes off, junk jewellery, laptop, belt off… I learnt from my flatmate who’d travelled 2 days before I did, to not wear an underwire bra cos even THAT beeps... dint want the security lady to go places I dint want her going. So I walked through without beeping and re-dressed myself n went on a search to find a public phone to call home to say I’ve been UKed… din’t find one but I did find a man in a green suit who was helping people out. He says to me “look down there luv, do u see the white phone booths?”.. I squint my eyes but there were too many blondes and since im not used to it differentiating them from a white phone booth was pretty much impossible in the crowded airport.. Anyway I sorta realized which way to go so walked in that direction. Called home and now had to wait for 3 hours before my flight to Manchester where the Meet and Greet person from my University was to meet me. Flight to Manchester was like the one from Bombay to Bangalore…. They give u nuts n coke but even before u’re done drinking half the glass its time to land… I say why bother? Just make the “Krupya apni Kursi ki peti baandhe” speech longer, oh I mean “Please fasten your seat belts “ J.. Anyway by that time it was 3:30 in UK and 8 pm in India… I was tired and was beginning to get a migraine. Just then 2 babies started wailing right behind me…. Not crying..WAILING! That’s when I realized English babies cry the same way as Indians.. I mean seriously.. if u close your eyes and listen to them they sound EXACTLY the same.. no accent no nothing! I know you’re probably thinking “yea obviously!” but I’d NEVER thought of it until I turned around to see why the kid was crying so bad…
Ok so now im in Manchester and its 4:45… Manchester airport is probably the world smallest airport.. I collect my bags and come out n Whoosh! It’s the wind! Im out.. no escalators or hallways or duty free shops. Anyway I look around to see Nobody! L Okay so I dint expect Rooney to be waiting with flowers and wine but atleast a Red Shirt of Sheffield Hallam.. i make an announcement and find another girl who happened to be in my class waiting with me too. After about 2 hours we find the Sri Lankan student who was asked to pick us up.. he clubs us with the 5 others who had landed that evening.. 3 Germans, one French guy and another dude from Portugal. I chat with the French guy, Bernon, who was here for his bachelors in business management and the Portuguese guy, Rodolfo, who was here for his Masters in Forensic Medicine (impressive I thought… that’s what I seriously wanted to do at one point of time). By the time we get into the bus that was to drive us to Sheffield it was 7:30 pm and my migraine had gotten pretty bad. Rodolfo n me chat for a while.. he says he loves Indian curry n culture and asks if Bangalore is near Delhi I say no its down South and he asks if its anywhere near Goa since that’s a place he knows it being an old Portuguese colony. After about half n hour im shamelessly dozing in the bus and he is Woah’ed when he realizes I flew all the way from India today. By then my brains all messed up because my body clock says it midnight… the watch says it 7:30 and the sky says its 3 pm…seriously when does the sun set??!?!? We reach the university at 8:30.. after a while we’re put in our cabs.. Turns out the place I live at, Phoenix Courts, is not as popular as one would expect.. so after a lotta hunting I reach the place.. its only the next day I realize a tiny silver 5” x 5” board with PHOENIX COURTS on it. Anyway I drag my suitcases in and Steve, the security guard, and me reach my room. My flat mates had decorated my room door with a “WELCOME HOME” and my room was opened for the very first time. Was a very “WHATS BEHIND DOOR NUMBER 2…. *drumroll*” moment :D.
Once I was home n changed we sat up chatting till 1 am which is 5:30 am India…. But we had lots to talk about… One of the highlights being “You had 5 hotties coming with you from manchester!!!! Damn your stars HAVE changed” :D

My Fake 10th Birthday.

I'm a May born summer baby, which means all my school life ive had my birthdays during the summer vacations, at grandad's, Mangalore usually with cousins n family... now dont get me wrong, i love them all.. very very much. But as a kid i always wanted the typical classroom birthday, atleast once.. wearing a pretty frock while the rest of the school wore the same old boring uniform... with a box full of chocolates while the rest of them waited for me to distribute it... and oh no.. tch tch.. not before you sing that lame song to me... even if it sounds terrible when sung by 50 odd children in pitches that would deafen dogs. :)

ATTEMPT 1: I attended a convent school in Bombay till i was 7. One day, some day, Sister Rosy was giving us instructions about dressing up in colour clothes the coming week for some Saint's feast. Unfortunately i only heard the part about the clothes and assumed it was for the next day... i dont really remember what i was doing...hmm..
Anyway so i go home and tell my mother who loved dressing me up about the whole arrangement. When it came to clothes i had my ground rules (No whites, if worn dont blame me if it comes back home brown; no itchy shiny material that makes me wanna scratch; no high necks that make me feel like im being choked; no clothes that limited my range of motion while climing walls)...
So i go to school the next day wearing a pretty skirt only to see my whole class in uniform... now i dint know what to do, i was 5 yrs old for cryin' out loud! So when the kids looked happy n asked me if it was my birthday i agreed because well, they looked so happy and nobody wants to make kids sad right?... okay FINE also because i got wished 49 TIMES and i knew what else was ins tore!!!!! :P. But what i did not know was while i was enjoying my 15 minutes of fame, my mother was explaining to Sister Rosy what had ACTUALLY happened. So this story ended with a pasting........... *sigh* i was only 5 yrs old! Sister Rosy was mean...

ATTEMPT 2: In the 7th standard, i was now studying in Bangalore. I knew this was my last chance for a 'school birthday' cos well next year i was going to attend High School 8)... which then was like Hollywood to the rest of us non-high-schoolians (and College was considered Heaven....well ignorance is bliss they say)... Anyway so i tell my mother i HAVE to celebrate my birthday in school atleast this once! Finally my mother gives up trying to convince me, so we go shopping for something i have never bought before (or since)...
Two Whole Big Bag of Toffees (i remember it was Caramilk, cos thats the only one which was sold in big packs in that store).. And I don't mean to sound like an amateur criminal but "I've never seen so many sweets together in my whole life"!!
So then the next day, i dress up in my best clothes, put my stash in a big box and wait at my building gate for the autorickshaw to come pick me up at 8:30 for school...

*tick tock tick tock... 8:25* ate one choc at the gate.

*tick tock tick tock 8:35* ate 2 more

*tick tock tick tock 8:45* by this time im stress eating 3 in a shot... its an art by the way, unwrapping 3 toffees at a time.

*tick tock tick tock 9:00* (school is supposed to have started) mum yells out to me from home... i run back panicked cos i was one of those kids who considered reaching late, the Eighth Deadly Sin!!! (explains why i reached an hour early..or the rest reached one hour late!!!! for a lunch meet last week....Grrrrrr!)

Apparently my mother received a call from the school saying that day was declared a state holiday because a politician had passed away.

I assure you, when the rest of the school kids in Bangalore were high 5'ing and skipping back home i was the lone child sad that day even though i did not even know who the politician was....

Of course then on, ive had some of my BESTEST birthdays with friends and family and looking back at my fake 10th birthday, sorta funny. :)

And also never ate another Caramilk in my life since......... (not because it dug out heart aching memories but because in the next 2 days i finished the whole box of it.... now just the name can reproduce the smell of elaichi... *shudder*)

This post is dedicated to the Andhra CM, Y S Rajashekara Reddy, who passed away in a helicopter crash yesterday.

To the ignorant, tomorrow may just be another holiday, But you will be remembered by the ones Near and Dear to you.
....May your soul Rest In Peace....