Monday, January 24, 2005

When Gods conspired against me...


Going home should be an exhilarating experience. That’s what I had anticipated. Oh, so I will be going to my home in India after more than 500 days in this alien country with innumerable experiences to narrate and bagful of gifts for my brothers and cousins. The excitement didn’t leave me unsurprised when I found myself unable to concentrate on work days before my final departures date. Imagination ran vivid in dreaming myself when I will land in India, and words failed to vocalize wealth of information that I planned to flood my family with. Plans were made and remade, both here and at home, for what to eat and whom to see after so hyped about ‘foreign return’. It is perhaps pity that my both brother cannot meet me together since both had colleges and all they could cull out of their schedule of classes and exams was few days independently. I was wondering how would they decide which gift item to share among themselves? I could see myself imagining my late night discussions on myriad of topics as I will be meeting them first time after they went to college. And how excited was I thinking about eating my favourite food that my culinary skills and Boston’s restaurants couldn’t help me with. I tried making a mental list of things that will surprise me when I go back to India after one and an-half year in United States. And so-called first impression of developing country after living in developed environment would be a nice reaction to observe, isn’t it? May be I’ll be caught offhand by inflations and become weary of rising costs and expenses of my friends, or may be rash driving and pollution will leave me exhausted? And I eagerly waited for aloo ke paranthe that my father promised he would bring me when he comes to pick me at New Delhi airport. There was no end, and finally the day came.

This was January 22, 2005 Saturday, a pleasant but cold day in Boston, which was not rare at this time of year. With every thing planned to last details I was spending last few hours before I leave for airport joking with my roommates. Then it started at 12:30 AM. Saikat called me informing to confirm my flight on the day at 5:00 PM which was to drop me at Newark airport saying that "bad" weather is expected in the evening. When I called the airline, I was shocked with news that my flight is cancelled. What proceeded next was a fury of phone calls to Continental and Air India confirming flights and possibility of rebooking. Now it occurred that Air India was leaving on time at 9:10 PM from Newark to Mumbai but none of the airlines were flying out of Boston. The bad weather turned out to be worst ever snow storm and blizzard which left with more than three feet of snow around. Alternative to flying were bus or train however booth would take the only thing I didn’t have – time. Cancelling my reserved zipcar, I ran to airport with Lakshman in cab. After more than one and a half-hour in communication with customer support at Continental after trying all possible airlines, it became apparent that I would not be able to leave that day. Second international journey didn’t seem to start nicely. Long queues – up to half an hour a time – at customer support each time I called them kept all our cell phones busy. The battle on which airline will reschedule my itinerary tickets, that were issued by Air India but failed to materialize due to failure of Continental Airlines, left me harassed and enervated. By the time I was declared unable to board any aircraft, both train and bus had left without me. Also, my sanity could be very well doubted if I decided to take bus in that weather as chances of being stranded in the unknown place were far from remote. With distressed heart I came back to my room after pulling the luggage on public transit, the T, than cab to save some bucks. Late evening, I called up home to inform my parents about change in arrival dates, and to request rescheduling the trains. It was such an unexpected thing for them that it took some time to sink in. Worries about getting reservations at such short notice were not false as I later found. But next day wasn’t better.

Having burnt once, I decided to call each airline, Continental and Air India, every hour to confirm the flights. It was only 8:00 AM when I found that snowstorm lead to not only cancellation of all flights out of and in to Boston, but Boston Logan airport itself was closed until further notice. I was adamant to leave on Sunday as I was already delayed by one day and one more day’s delay would ensure that I would miss Republic Day celebration in India. Between bus and train, obvious choice was the train for the reasons highlighted earlier, though, and this is the irony of developed country, train journey for same pair of origin-destinations was costliest among air, bus and train. At 10:00 AM, we booked the 1:00 PM train to Newark Airport Station and called a taxi for 11:00 AM. But it never came. One more hardship was to reshuffle the entire luggage from my carry-on bag to check-in bags as luggage restrictions of Amtrak were more than international flights standards. And the adventure of dragging two bags of fifty pounds each along with laptop bag was not the ordinary one, as snow mounds outside stood taller than us at some places. With chilling winds blowing on our face, and mercury dropped below 25 degree Celsius below zero, we trudged along the makeshift way in show to nearest public transit station. Dragging, dropping, falling and slipping we made it to station, and luckily found trains running, though delayed. Once at South Station, hopes began to rise again as ticket was confirmed and train was declared to be on time. But it wasn’t so easy as just half-an-hour before departure, train was cancelled. Next two trains, at 1:10 PM and 1:30 PM, to our utter disappointment, were completely booked and left on time. However when I was upgraded to faster train at 2:10 PM which promised me to drop at Newark Penn Station at 6:15 PM, we soon contacted our friends at New York for best advise on reaching the Newark airport fastest. When we were all set to go, just 10 minutes before 2:00 PM, our train was announced to be delayed by 30-40 minutes. Now, that didn’t leave a comfortable time to check in an international flight, though chances were still present. I bid adieu to my accompanying friends as I decided to go for it, and in case I couldn’t make for flight, spend next day at airport. But question remained; what if that train got cancelled?

At 2:45 PM, train was further delayed by 30-40 minutes. That indeed deprived me of all possible hopes and I informed my friends that I would better go back home. It came to my notice that they couldn’t get public transit train even after half-an-hour of wait, as that was too delayed. I came out of station, and luckily we found a taxi to head back home. I rescheduled my flights once again and informed my parents of the same, after waking them up at 2:00 AM in the night. I was told that getting a reservation at one day’s notice was highly impossible and especially on Republic Day. But when Gods start to conspire against you what is in your hand? And now I am writing this narrative.

Mental strain may not be apparent from this factual narrative but would become apparent as four of us and our cell phones were busy all the time. Communication to check websites and find information, long waits on line for customer service, debating with uninformed and cynic customer service agents, debating utility of alternative options, contacting people for pertinent information, helping me packaging and repackaging my baggage, preparing quick food stuff in absence of time to cook, and last but not least trudging with me and my luggage in this horrible weather, kept pretty much us busy all the time. I cannot but thank them profusely for all their help. Now I am scheduled to leave Boston on Monday and it is forecasted that weather would be better, but do I trust? Not at all. This episode left me surprised at myself as I was disappointed but not irritated, which I used to do anytime something went wrong. Series of cancellations of just the train/plane I am suppose to take, and other number of minor problems makes me wonder if this is part of some grand conspiracy against me? Am I part of some Game? Or it is a some omen making me impossible to go since "something" is going to happen?

Worst is that I will not be able to meet even my brother who arrived home to welcome me but would leave by the time I will reach after two days delay. And the excitement to reach the home has turned into exhasperated desperation. One more night to wait, and pray that tomorrow would be The Day.

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