Prolog- Contd
I reach London 19th July morning, 7 AM. London Heathrow Airport is always like a zoo, with a maze of alleys, subways, stairs, "no entry"s, pathways winding miles before anything interesting may happen. The interesting thing that happens is someone shouting to advise to stay in lane or go to a lane. Some brown-skinned suited individuals with airport badges also walk around trying to keep order in the enormous traffic. The traffic converges from all parts of the planet, some may look like coming from Mars! Attires, hairdos, ornaments, men in tunics, women in cloaks; colorful, strange, a sight to behold. Somewhere there could be a potential terrorist, a new group that has emerged in the modern world. London has witnessed terrorism before and it's alert in the morning. Olympics are round the corner, and London is trying its best to be a good host.
We land up in an enormous hall. There are two lanes now, one for people who belong to the European Union; and the other for everyone else. I see a third lane at the end saying Fast Track. Since I would be in London only till the evening, I thought that lane was right for me. I asked an Officer and who returned a question what country I had the passport from. Getting my answer, he directed me to the fattest line, the second one, and I am now the last after a thousand or so tired individuals. Lines move in the slowest pace, then suddenly a massive Chinese group is escorted to the front. The athletes have priority,
the Chinese have shown up to acclimatize themselves to London climate. Money can do good things to a country. The group makes various noises expressing confusion, but does get done after a couple of senior looking men show up and handle the noise.
To stay in line in airports is an interesting experience. Some look totally tense, some look resigned, some others give a gleeful "it's the way" look. Most women smile if you exchange glance with them. Elderly and youthful men smile. Ethnic men look away, "no business" type. The strangely dressed men, who could be kings in some jungle clan, give a look of despair. They are certainly used to better service in their serfdom. Most interesting are men with multiple women tagging along; it didn't occur to me that the women could be the man's wives; he has multiple halves. I had made friends with an elderly group from New Zealand, people returning from a "spiritual mission" to India. Many such groups from Australia and New Zealand do humanitarian work in the hill areas in India and look for potential people who may convert to Christianity. They seemed like jolly people, but their reason for "converting" people could be the part of their joy!
I clear myself out of the jungle and now go through the Customs. Then I come another sudden open space that happens in all airports. In Boston, they have made the space friendly with recessed lighting, high ceilings and wall sculptures. In London it's neon and people; another zoo. I notice my nephew Sandeepan who lives in London. He is a part of new breed that is imported from India to advance countries to the electronic age. With the amount of imports, one would think that India might have reached high edge in electronics, but that's not the case. Indian boys and girls seem to have to have aptitude for logic and numbers, and work in computers is a god-send to India. It's a new kind of business, there are many middle men involved; Romney's model to make money sitting in Cayman Islands. India has entered the power game, some others make money because of it.
We take a cab and reach my nephew's apartment after a ninety minute ride. I meet his wife, another computer professional, and their new born son. I love their style and approach to life. To be a young person of Indian origin is a blessing and curse together. It's a blessing because of the enormous affection that's germane in Indian society, and a curse because the lock of opportunities to train oneself while growing up. While one is better than any young person anywhere in the world, the individual remains limited in thinking and constrained in scope. The British engineered education system in India to create clerks for their administration, the system is still pervasive. There is happiness if one gets a decent leaving. There is acceptance of not carrying the royal blood.
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