This isn't my first visit to India by any means nor it is my last (hopefully), but it has surely been a very different one so far. It is unique, new and simply mesmerizing on many levels and I will try to illustrate it through this blog post.
Glimpse #1: Dubai Airport.
Having cleared immigration with the utmost ease, I was walking toward the departures gates at a casual pace, taking in the airport atmosphere; this being an airport where I have spent countless hours transitting as a child. I browsed through the famous Dubai Duty Free shops and bought some chocolates to bring with me as a gift for my cousins in India. When it was close to boarding time, I walked towards Gate #12 as was mentioned on my boarding card only to find it was moved to Gate #18. Upon gazing around, I noticed the number 18 gleaming from across the terminal, a few minutes away. When I got close to the gate, I saw that there was a long queue of people boarding the plane, and I wasn't sure what was holding them up. I was relatively late to board and I expected more than half the people to have boarded already. Unfortunately that wasn't the case and soon enough I found that the kind and courteous (pun intended) IndiGo airlines staff had brought with them a little weighing machine and stuck it right across the pathway to the aerobridge. Every passenger was weighed for their hand luggage and let go only if they didn't surpass 7kgs. Only a few lucky people had the honor of seamlessly passing through, and I found myself with at least 3 dozen passengers queueing up to pay for the excess kilos we had thought we could sneak past. Paying for bringing excess baggage sounds fine, but when they had asked us to pay for the weight of anything we bought through the duty free too, people were downright furious. Expletives were being exchanged in hindi/urdu and I think the only reason why a fight didn't break out was because the take-off was in the wee hours of the morning at 5.30am and people just weren't ready to throw punches. This is where I got my first glimpse of Incredible Indians, right here at the Dubai airport. On one hand we had the sneaky IndiGo airlines crew who managed to extort passengers for duty free purchases, and on the other hand we had the hard working Indian immigrants trying to catch a flight back home and were frustrated with the way Indian businesses try to stand them up for every penny.
Glimpse #2: Hyderabad Airport
After a boring and rather uncomfortable 3 and a half hours of flying aboard IndiGo airlines, I got to the new and shiny Hyderabad Airport. The walk from the flight to the immigration area was rather mundane until after we got there, and saw a huge number of passengers already lined up for immigration. A certain Mr. X with the airport authorities was 'assisting' the passengers with the immigration procedures by directing them to the respective counters. All was going well when suddenly Mr. X flipped out on a kid who tried to cut corners just so he could stand huddle with his friends in the long queue. The poor kid got shouted at and was sent to the end of the queue. Not surprisingly, Mr. X made sure everyone had heard him loud and "Kileear" (local pronunciation of the word clear) when he was schooling the kid and feeling great about himself. Finally it came my turn to smile at the officer's camera and I was cleared at immigration in 30 seconds (by this time I was feeling great too) when I was stopped a few feet later by Mr.Y who was in charge of scrutinizing passengers' passports for the arrival stamps. He demanded that I ask the immigration agent to re-stamp the arrival date on my passport since it wasn't legible for him. I tried to reason with Mr.Y that it was quite legible and yet I was sent back. Hardly surprising, the immigration agent's ego was at stake now. He got flustered when he heard what I had just conveyed to him, and started yelling at Mr.Y at which point I thought it best to go back to Mr.Y with a straight face and try to get past him. Seeing this commotion, Mr.Z walked towards us, looked at the stamped page on the passport and ushered me to just walk on. (Thank you God for Mr.Z!)
Glimpe #3: Hyderabad Roadways
Simply put, if every driver of every form of vehicle imaginable in Hyderabad-India deserved a dollar for each time they avoided an accident; drivers in India would all be millionaires in no time. It is not by any means an understatement if I were to say that anyone who can drive a car in India and keep it dent-free, should be given a drivers license anywhere in the world without question. It is really an art to drive in this part of the world, and I will tell you why. Close your eyes and imagine this. Actually scratch that; lets do this the 21st century way. Watch this video on youtube and you will know exactly what I am talking about (you don't have to watch all of it). Also, while watching the video keep in mind that you need to double the amount of everything on the road (cars, autorickshaws, bikes, pedestrians etc.), and that's traffic in Hyderabad nowadays.
Yes, its Incredible, isn't it! All you Indians readers out there might think its not a big deal, but trust me, if you don't live here or visit often, this is just insanity! What is truly mind-boggling is that even without any sort of traffic sense, or rules or restrictions, the traffic still flows smoothly, and you will eventually get to your destination albeit with a few dents on your car, or a broken brake light, or just pure frustration (if you are lucky to get away without any physical car damage). If I were asked where the creators of the "Incredible India" brand got their motivation for the name, I would say Indian traffic. And before I forget this thought, I have to get this out there. You don't really have to smoke a pack of cigarettes a day to get your lungs filled with disgusting stuff; just ride a bike around all day on Hyderabadi roads and you will get in your day's worth of carcinogens, carbon monoxide, carbon dioxide and other fun stuff.
Once I got over the crazy traffic and ridiculous amounts of pollution, I started noticing the localities, the neighborhoods and the various parts of the city and the stark contrasts. We were driving through the city and literally within a few minutes of each other, I witnessed disgusting and repulsive slums which smelled of leaking sewage, followed by modern houses and villas that have price tags in the neighborhood of USD200K and above, which were followed by auto showrooms that sold Porsches, Jaguars, Audis, Mercedes and other fancy boutiques that sold every top European designer imaginable. The magnitude of financial disparity just blew my mind away and it dawned on me how India is called a third-world country while some of the richest people in the world are also Indians (think Reliance Group, Wipro, ArcelorMittal to name a few).
Unfortunately I had to take off in the middle of writing this blog which is why my thought-process got interrupted and I can't think of what to write next, so stay tuned for an Incredible India Part 2. So until then, Salaam (peace!).
Glimpse #1: Dubai Airport.
Having cleared immigration with the utmost ease, I was walking toward the departures gates at a casual pace, taking in the airport atmosphere; this being an airport where I have spent countless hours transitting as a child. I browsed through the famous Dubai Duty Free shops and bought some chocolates to bring with me as a gift for my cousins in India. When it was close to boarding time, I walked towards Gate #12 as was mentioned on my boarding card only to find it was moved to Gate #18. Upon gazing around, I noticed the number 18 gleaming from across the terminal, a few minutes away. When I got close to the gate, I saw that there was a long queue of people boarding the plane, and I wasn't sure what was holding them up. I was relatively late to board and I expected more than half the people to have boarded already. Unfortunately that wasn't the case and soon enough I found that the kind and courteous (pun intended) IndiGo airlines staff had brought with them a little weighing machine and stuck it right across the pathway to the aerobridge. Every passenger was weighed for their hand luggage and let go only if they didn't surpass 7kgs. Only a few lucky people had the honor of seamlessly passing through, and I found myself with at least 3 dozen passengers queueing up to pay for the excess kilos we had thought we could sneak past. Paying for bringing excess baggage sounds fine, but when they had asked us to pay for the weight of anything we bought through the duty free too, people were downright furious. Expletives were being exchanged in hindi/urdu and I think the only reason why a fight didn't break out was because the take-off was in the wee hours of the morning at 5.30am and people just weren't ready to throw punches. This is where I got my first glimpse of Incredible Indians, right here at the Dubai airport. On one hand we had the sneaky IndiGo airlines crew who managed to extort passengers for duty free purchases, and on the other hand we had the hard working Indian immigrants trying to catch a flight back home and were frustrated with the way Indian businesses try to stand them up for every penny.
Glimpse #2: Hyderabad Airport
After a boring and rather uncomfortable 3 and a half hours of flying aboard IndiGo airlines, I got to the new and shiny Hyderabad Airport. The walk from the flight to the immigration area was rather mundane until after we got there, and saw a huge number of passengers already lined up for immigration. A certain Mr. X with the airport authorities was 'assisting' the passengers with the immigration procedures by directing them to the respective counters. All was going well when suddenly Mr. X flipped out on a kid who tried to cut corners just so he could stand huddle with his friends in the long queue. The poor kid got shouted at and was sent to the end of the queue. Not surprisingly, Mr. X made sure everyone had heard him loud and "Kileear" (local pronunciation of the word clear) when he was schooling the kid and feeling great about himself. Finally it came my turn to smile at the officer's camera and I was cleared at immigration in 30 seconds (by this time I was feeling great too) when I was stopped a few feet later by Mr.Y who was in charge of scrutinizing passengers' passports for the arrival stamps. He demanded that I ask the immigration agent to re-stamp the arrival date on my passport since it wasn't legible for him. I tried to reason with Mr.Y that it was quite legible and yet I was sent back. Hardly surprising, the immigration agent's ego was at stake now. He got flustered when he heard what I had just conveyed to him, and started yelling at Mr.Y at which point I thought it best to go back to Mr.Y with a straight face and try to get past him. Seeing this commotion, Mr.Z walked towards us, looked at the stamped page on the passport and ushered me to just walk on. (Thank you God for Mr.Z!)
Glimpe #3: Hyderabad Roadways
Simply put, if every driver of every form of vehicle imaginable in Hyderabad-India deserved a dollar for each time they avoided an accident; drivers in India would all be millionaires in no time. It is not by any means an understatement if I were to say that anyone who can drive a car in India and keep it dent-free, should be given a drivers license anywhere in the world without question. It is really an art to drive in this part of the world, and I will tell you why. Close your eyes and imagine this. Actually scratch that; lets do this the 21st century way. Watch this video on youtube and you will know exactly what I am talking about (you don't have to watch all of it). Also, while watching the video keep in mind that you need to double the amount of everything on the road (cars, autorickshaws, bikes, pedestrians etc.), and that's traffic in Hyderabad nowadays.
Yes, its Incredible, isn't it! All you Indians readers out there might think its not a big deal, but trust me, if you don't live here or visit often, this is just insanity! What is truly mind-boggling is that even without any sort of traffic sense, or rules or restrictions, the traffic still flows smoothly, and you will eventually get to your destination albeit with a few dents on your car, or a broken brake light, or just pure frustration (if you are lucky to get away without any physical car damage). If I were asked where the creators of the "Incredible India" brand got their motivation for the name, I would say Indian traffic. And before I forget this thought, I have to get this out there. You don't really have to smoke a pack of cigarettes a day to get your lungs filled with disgusting stuff; just ride a bike around all day on Hyderabadi roads and you will get in your day's worth of carcinogens, carbon monoxide, carbon dioxide and other fun stuff.
Once I got over the crazy traffic and ridiculous amounts of pollution, I started noticing the localities, the neighborhoods and the various parts of the city and the stark contrasts. We were driving through the city and literally within a few minutes of each other, I witnessed disgusting and repulsive slums which smelled of leaking sewage, followed by modern houses and villas that have price tags in the neighborhood of USD200K and above, which were followed by auto showrooms that sold Porsches, Jaguars, Audis, Mercedes and other fancy boutiques that sold every top European designer imaginable. The magnitude of financial disparity just blew my mind away and it dawned on me how India is called a third-world country while some of the richest people in the world are also Indians (think Reliance Group, Wipro, ArcelorMittal to name a few).
Unfortunately I had to take off in the middle of writing this blog which is why my thought-process got interrupted and I can't think of what to write next, so stay tuned for an Incredible India Part 2. So until then, Salaam (peace!).
No comments:
Post a Comment