Tag Archives: USA

How I broke into my own apartment

Life etc., Trouble Trouble, ,

Shit happens to everyone. In my case, shit happens once too often. And when it comes, it comes not like a tide, but like a tsunami. As they say, when it rains, it pours.. (I’m not sure whether they mean the metaphor in the good sense or the bad..but whatever)

So, it seemed that fate got bored today and recalled it hadn’t played its cruel game with me for some time now. I got myself locked out of my apartment despite my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder with doors. However, probably because fate was nice to a certain individual whom I threatened to drag along with me on my troubled journey, the incident was not as dramatic as my earlier trysts with unwarranted trouble. But it is definitely worth mentioning.

It all seemed to be another mundane day just like any of the days this week, partly because I really don’t have anything to do apart from hunting for a job, now that I graduated. The previous day, I had decided to start watching Lost. I started right from Season 1, which thankfully was in Hulu. After a marathon session of 5 episodes yesterday night, I woke up pretty late today morning. But I couldn’t help but watch another episode in the morning, so I quickly rushed down to get some cornflakes, and then started watching Lost Season 1 Episode 6. After that, I did my morning round of job applications, then decided I’ll clean the kitchen and throw out the trash. Yes.. Cleaning is my way of taking a time out.. (But I clean my own stuff, so don’t ask me to clean your apartment!)

I had trash bags in both hands. I was too lazy to climb up to get my wallet, which has the house key. I thought, the dumpster is just nearby; I’ll just turn the latch on the knob so that the door remains unlocked. I have this OCD of checking like 10 times if a door is locked whenever I leave anywhere. This time it was just that I checked if the knob was rotating from outside like a 10 times, before closing it. I quickly dropped off the trash and returned back, thinking that I will take a bath now and cook some delicious food. To my horror (yes.. I get horrified even if this happens to me time and again), the door knob was not turning. I was locked out!

Now I was in a real tricky situation. The door won’t open. My key was inside the apartment. Of the three people who had keys to the apartment, one had gone to India, one to Seattle and one was in Welcome, NC, about 2 hrs drive from my place. My cellphone was inside. My wallet was inside. I didn’t have a car. I was in a creased tee and shorts, hadn’t taken bath, had a stubble of 3 days on my face, an oily face and ruffled hair. I was like a homeless!

How did the door get locked despite me checking so many times? I kept wondering. The first thought which came to my twisted mind was that some thief saw me stepping out and jumped in to steal my stuff. He might’ve locked it after he escaped with my stuff. I said to myself, “Yeah right.. That’s one courteous thief who locks the door behind him when leaving. Use your brain, moron!” So I ruled out that possibility. (Well! Not completely, as you will know soon!)

I tried my luck with the back door, but that was obviously locked, so I couldn’t open it. Panicking, my next step was to call Srikanth, who was the nearest person with the keys. For that I needed two things: his number, and a cellphone to make the call. I needed a savior. Of course, there was my savior and friend extraordinaire right opposite to my apartment. I rang the doorbell of Lakshmi’s apartment, mentally listing out my course of action, starting with using her cellphone. I heard the turning of some latch for a second. Something was wrong! Generally they secure their door with like 20 locks and keys, so I always hear turning of latches for about 5 seconds before they open the door. Their door is like a safe. Anyway nothing was wrong other than she thinking that I was not in a presentable state to be let in (:P). I said it was an emergency, and she finally let me in.

I told her what happened, and being the nice person she is, she offered to take me all the way to get the key and back. “Oh yeah.. she does have a car”, I remembered. I was visibly tense, because I think she asked me about 8-10 times to sit down, but I didn’t sit down. I kept wondering if the thief was still hiding in my apartment, locking it from inside (even more ridiculous!),  so I kept peering through her window towards my apartment in the hope that I could catch the thief when he comes out. She made me some Bournvita, and narrated everything to her roommate, Priyanka. Priyanka, with her Gujju brains, came up with the idea of trying to pick the lock with a hair pin. I recalled that I’ve opened some doors using credit cards. So equipped with a hair pin and a credit card, we headed back to my apt. If we could avoid the 4 hour journey, it would be great. Would I get lucky in my misery?

We tried the card first. But the door was too tight for the card to fit in. Then we took turns and tried with the hairpin. Priyanka must’ve thought “What a geek!”, because I managed to wise-crack about how the tumblers inside the key work, and how lock-picking works, in the middle of all this. Alas! But knowledge is not everything, because both of us failed. I started contemplating the inevitable, when another group of friends saw us and came to check what the deal was. Don (Or was it Mavila?) suggested trying to slide the windows. If we are lucky enough, they might be unlocked. Sure enough, the kitchen window was unlocked. It was a tiny one, but I managed to climb into the kitchen. By that time, Priyanka had figured that the front window too was unlocked, and had climbed in through there.

Thus, I broke into my own apartment. I was in cloud nine. Lakshmi was also glad that she didn’t have to drive all the way and back. Yes! There was this small worry that we had forgotten to latch our windows, so any thief could have easily climbed in all these days. But it ultimately saved my day.

I mean, it could’ve been a lot worse

  • The windows would all have been latched in which case we would have had to make that 2+2=4 hour journey.
  • Suspicious neighbors could have called the cops when they saw us trying to break in
  • My apartment could have been on the second floor, in which case I would have needed a ladder to climb in through the window.

We decided to have a lunch outside together. I didn’t bother changing. I asked Lakshmi if I look okay to go outside.
She said, “You look a beggar”.
“A happy beggar”, I said to myself.

The case of sunglasses

Life etc., Theories, , , ,

This is a story about sunglasses, and their high profile life in the Indian society.

Now seriously!
Sunglasses have a very high importance in India. They are regarded as the ultimate level of machismo in Indian circles. At least that’s what I have figured. I will attempt to present my point with some events, during the course of which I may refer to some anonymous faces, which may be recognizable by at least a few people reading this. I will not tell the names here.

I have owned sunglasses for quite some time, but rarely used them in India because of two reasons primarily, the more important one of which I will talk about later. The lesser of the reasons is that I started wearing contact lens only 2 years back, while I have worn glasses since my 4th. I thought of it as rather a nuisance to carry two pair of glasses, and switching back and forth whenever I was outside or inside a building.

A few weeks after I came to NCSU for my studies, a friend told me, “Every Tom, Dick and Harry wears a sunglass here”. I mean, what’s the big deal? Why does someone wearing a sunglass stand out in the eyes of an Indian? I am at a loss to answer why. But I think I know how.

I consider sunglasses more as a convenience than a style statement. The vast majority of Indians think exactly the other way around. What they don’t understand, is the very fact that it is an useful item. I wear sunglasses when it is sunny, because that’s what sunglasses are for. I wear sunglasses when it is snowing, because studies have shown that a great deal of UV is reflected off the snow, and it is always a good idea to wear sunglasses.

A friend of mine once asked whether I was wearing sunglasses to show off.
When I gave my reasoning, he mocked me in the typical style only a Malayalee can talk in, “As if you wore sunglasses your whole life. You didn’t bother about UV and dust and other stuff while you were in India. You started wearing only after coming to US.” Most Malayalees have this bad habit of making fun of people who break convention. I remember another guy asking me to pick up littered newspapers on the road after I wrote this. Being a Malayalee myself, it is sad to see that most are a bunch of hypocritical 2 year olds who refuse to grow up.

Coming back to the case of sunglasses, the answer for that is the bigger, more important reason. It is better explained by the fact that even in US, when I freely wear sunglasses whenever it is bright outside, any known Indian face I meet on the way will make a comment about my sunglasses. “Bada cool dikh raha hai yaar”
Why don’t they leave my poor sunglasses alone? They are a pair of dilapidated old glasses, which have been mutilated more than once, including me sitting on a bag with them inside, and then having to bend the frame back to its normal shape. It is not worth $5 in craigslist. I don’t wear them because I want to look cool. I wear them because I don’t want to squint. I would have worn it in India too, if not for the reason that there would be 100 Indians instead of 10 that I would meet in the course of a day. It once even went to the point that a girl who was introduced to me one evening identified me. She said, “I saw you today morning, wearing sunglasses and all.” Believe me, at the very second, I was like “Why am I even talking to her?”, not because she made fun of me, but because of the hint that I was being pompous.

Now, imagine the horror of wearing sunglasses in India, if this was the case with a handful of Indian diaspora in US. You will have a hundred eyes thrust upon you wherever you go. And hundred is not an exaggeration because India is so populous, it is not difficult to find hundred people in a course of 1 mile.

My thesis that most Indians wear sunglasses only when they have to show off is cemented by a fact which you can notice if you are an Indian. I have seen countless Indians take out their precious Ray Ban from the closet, and polish them spick-and-span, whenever they are going on a vacation. In short, for them, they are meant to be worn only when you are going on a holiday. This has happened in my trip with my friends in US last summer too. I have never seen them wear sunglasses otherwise. Heck, I have even seen one photo in Facebook, where there was a guy who put his normal glasses on his head, then put on a pair of sunglasses on his eyes.. all just to pose for a holiday photo. (Deductive reasoning.. The fact that there are two glasses on his head suggests that it was an impromptu decision.)

To conclude, I will mention a funny incident that Kunal told us. He was talking about the accent of some people in Delhi. You will be standing by the roadside. They come with leather jacket and expensive aviator sunglasses. Then they ask in unrefined Hindi, “Bhaisaab. Tame kya hua?” (Sir, what’s the time? And he *does* say “tame” for “time”) You will literally be shocked if you weren’t from Delhi. That is because seeing the sunglasses, you would not have expected crass language from him. That’s how stereotyped sunglasses are.

The fact is that if you wear sunglasses, it will attract the attention of every single Indian in sight, whether you want it or not. Whether it is a constructive one or a destructive one, is completely out of your hands. The only choice you have is whether to be a robot or an alien.

It is one of the idiosyncrasies of an Indian.
Welcome to Incredible India!

It snowed!

Life etc., Tagged, Weird things, , , ,

It seemed a normal enough day today, when I went out to the bus stop just outside my apartment to catch the “Greek Village” bus to my work. It was 12.30pm. The temperature was around 40 F(5 C) when I last checked.

I went out. It was really colder compared to yesterday. I had to wear my gloves to save my palms from getting numb. There was the familiar and boring whoosh sound as cars and trucks sped by.

Then it suddenly turned into a dreamland. A hint of something white! What looked like tiny cotton pieces falling from thin air! It was snowing!

This was the first snowfall I have witnessed in my life; I was beaming, and I could keep my composure well within limits, although I did that Bill Murray-ish strut, which was a visible indication that I was so excited. I have never been happier in several months. So I just decided to share my happiness with my poor blog, which I have been neglecting since I started my grad studies.

I couldn’t take a video of this historic moment, but history will repeat itself, so I’ll take a video and post it the next time it snows.

Now, I have a tag from the one and only Miladysa – a tag called Random & Weirdly Meme. It is a bit weird that I keep getting tags about weird things everytime, but everyone is allowed to be weird once or twice, so it is not really weird to be weird.

The rule is to share 7 facts about yourself – some random, some weird.

#1 – I saw snow for the first time in my life today. (What else were you expecting as first fact?)

#2 – One of my favorite hobbies while in school was inventing nicknames with my cousin to bully my younger brother. I can remember about 20 different names from the top of my head now, but I’m sure there were more. My favorite one must be NKVKMKM, which had a very interesting full form. I won’t disclose it here.

#3 – I used to steal buttermilk from the refrigerator as a kid. The habit hasn’t died till date. Even today, I prefer drinking buttermilk when nobody’s watching.

#4 – I scored an almost high 28 on an online Asperger Syndrome test, but I don’t believe it.

#5 – I am really (unbelievably) bad at Cricket. I can’t play well, and I don’t follow cricket.

#6 – I’ve been using the same wrist watch for 11 years now. And I don’t even like it.

#7 – Weekends in Raleigh are boring because I don’t have a car, and there’s no public transit on weekends.

Now tagging 7 people is the part I don’t like. So I tag everyone who reads this. 😛

Woes Reloaded

Life etc., Weird things, ,

I know I haven’t blogged for a long long time, and I’ve lost half my readers. But I was busy with work…honest!!
Well. Now I’m back in India…without a paisa, with torn sandals and with a lot of headweight.

A few extra pounds
The woes started even before I reached India. I was royally pissed off right from the moment I started packing for my return. After I finished packing, the new rule about the liquid/gel/aerosol came into effect. That warranted some repacking. (Not because I was carrying liquid explosives or anything 😀 ) After several grueling hours and trying all combos, I was finally able to pack some stuff. I mean, the challenge was real and tough.

1. No liquid items in Cabin baggage. Most of the high-density items (heavy but less in size) were liquids, conditioners et al.)
2. Check-in weight limit is 50 pounds.
3. Cabin baggage is too small in size.

The results were:
- My check-in bags were exactly 50 pounds, but had lot of free space.
- My cabin strolley was literally stuffed with maximum items, but still underweight. (like me :P )
- Same was the case with my backpack.
- I had to return back two packets to their owners. I said I can't deliver them to India, use FedEx!! They said, FedEx gets washed away like it did with Chuck Noland in "CastAway".
- I had to ask my colleague, who is coming next week to carry one of my own items.

Around the airport in 80 minutes
Well. If you thought that was all, here’s more.
I reached O’Hare airport and checked in (to my relief, my baggages were exactly 50 and 50.5 pounds each. I was a bit doubtful about the rusty balance which I used back in my hotel room.)

Check-in finished…Security check also went through fairly smooth, except that they asked me to remove every single item in my pocket. ( The next thing that’s gonna happen is these psychopathic jehadis making an explosive from cotton, and passengers being asked to travel naked.) I went towards the gate. Went into the lounge…(What can I say.. This was about the only thing that was good in my journey.. I travelled in First Class.)

I started recalling the check-in process. It took a moment for that blow to strike my mind. Then it struck lethally. It was horror..It was insanity. I frantically checked my passport.
The I-94 stamping…
My colleague said that I needed the I-94 stamped when I was departing from US, otherwise I would get some royal treatment from immigration department when I come back next time…
It was not there.
I went and asked the American Airlines officials near the boarding gate. They said something silly which didn’t convince me. They asked me to go to the check-in counter to be sure. I went all the way back. At the check-in counter, an official didn’t allow me into the check-in desk. He said, the immigration things are to be handled by the immigration dept and they are in terminal 5. I had to catch the Airport Transit train and go there.
I met an officer there; she was a kind lady. She said there was no process in place to get it done from them, not for Indians. She explained that this is probably taken care of during check-in.
I went back to terminal 3, and this time managed to sneak inside the check-in queue and to the desk. The lady there explained everything to me. There was no stamping required in my passport. The I-94, which was now detached from my passport and reattached to my boarding pass, would be collected at the boarding gate. There will be Home Security officials to scan my Visa at the boarding gate. I can go to the gate without an worries.
I asked the questions again and again, just to be sure. The lady kept her cool anyway.
I was relieved… so much that the entire security check process, which I had to go thru again, was not that annoying.

So I went back to the lounge. The lady at the lounge reception, Sandi Dukach, (I had told her my issue, just before running out like a crazy man) asked if everything was in place. I told her the problems I had to go through.
She said, “Better be sure than be sorry.”
Exhausted after the end of the race, I replied, “Yeah!”

I was lucky that I had checked in well ahead of time, otherwise I would not have found time for this race.
Oh..I remember the name of the receptionist because she has a striking resemblance to actress Susan Sarandon, a fact that I told her too.

Insomnia
Back in Delhi, I checked in at Hyatt. No woes with the customs, luckily. I was planning to check out at 4.45, since my flight was at 6.35 am. So I scheduled a wake-up call at 4 am.

In the night, I was bitten by the insomnia bug, because of jet lag. I kept waking up at regular intervals of 15 minutes or so. Then there was a huge gap, after which I woke up. I checked my watch, it was showing 4.15. So much for these junkies. They don’t even give a wake-up call properly. I took a quick shower, then I called and said I would be checking out in 15 minutes.
Then I called my taxi-wallah, and asked him to come in about 20-25 minutes. He was perplexed, “At this time? But your flight is at 6.35, right?”
I checked my watch. It was showing 4.35.. But PM, not AM. The goddamn watch was still in World Time mode and was showing the time in Chicago. Actually, it was only 3.05 am in India. I apologized to the driver for disturbing him in the middle of night. Then called the receptionist and apologized to her as well, saying I lost sense of time.

Then I killed time by watching some Spanish movie (Do I know Spanish?) in TV till 4.45, then checked out.

The Joy of Flying
In Delhi domestic airport, I encountered another problem. Jet airways allowed only 30 kgs total check-in allowance. I started arguing. I took a connecting flight and my baggage weight is as per international norms. How am I supposed to rearrange the contents during transit! This was ridiculous. I refused to pay any extra amount for my baggage. I tried to convince the lady at the check-in counter. And I was successful, thanks to my charm and ability in wooing girls. (Ahem! Ahem!) She finally said she’ll waive the excess luggage because it was me. (Oops..because I was a business class traveler)

Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani
For the sake of my readers who don’t know Hindi: the title means “Still my heart is Indian”

I reached Bangalore at long last, had a good sleep. When I woke up in the evening, I was really hungry. Moreover, my “headweight” was because of 3 months of no haircuts.
I decided to go to the salon and then to a restaurant. But my sandals were torn. I had to wear shoes just to walk about 20 meters. When I reached the barbershop, I realised that I had no money. (Indian Rupee, that is) So I decided to walk towards the nearest ATM. (My car was in my friends’ house) I walked all the way only to find the ATM was out of order.
So I came back, didn’t have a haircut, didn’t go to the restaurant and thought about ways to use my credit card. I called Pizza Hut, ordered a pizza. It is a pity that they have stopped Potato Wedges. That was one of the best things there. After eating my pizza, I tried to sleep…But I couldn’t…It was 12 AM you know!!!

Stranded

Life etc.,

I don’t go looking for trouble…Trouble usually finds me

This time trouble found me at O’Hare International Airport, supposed to be the busiest airport in the world.

I could say why.. 4 domestic and 1 international terminal. About 40 boarding gates per terminal. One flight taking off or landing every 42 seconds! PHEW!

As I’m very interested in figures, I’ll add some more.

Crowd – overwhelming
Flights cancelled on Thursday evening – 63. (Did you see it right? It’s sixty-three)

I was about to go to Sacramento, CA, on Thursday. I took lots of effort to reach O’Hare airport that day.

After pushing my way through the crowd, I finally reached gate B1. I stood near B1 for another 1 hour, simply because all the seats were occupied. I went to check the flight status one last time before it was time to board. To my horror, it was shown as cancelled.

I started to panic now. What to do? I was really looking forward to meeting my aunt and cousin after a long 5 years and to watch my cousin’s dance debut. I went to the United Airlines representative near the gate. She told me to contact the Customer Service Desk. I went back. The queue for the customer service center was one gigantic snake which didn’t seem to end. Anyway, I had to stay in the queue.

I started looking for other options. I tried to find out the number of UA, but couldn’t. I called my uncle, but there was nobody at home and his cell was not reachable. There was no other option. I had to wait in the queue.

After about half an hour my uncle called back after hearing my voice message. I explained the situation and asked him if he could get their number for me. He called them instead and looked for alternatives.

No seats available for Friday also. But Saturday was too late for me. So I decided to cancel my ticket and book another one with Southwest Airlines from Midway airport. Unfortunately (yeah…right!!), UA had no tie-up with Southwest, so they couldn’t process that. The very way the UA person talked was as if they didn’t give a fart about the plight of their passengers because this was a FAA directive. So I had to cancel my journey with UA and book anew with Southwest. My uncle did an online booking with southwest.

Now it was almost 2 hours since I’d been standing in the queue, and I was not even halfway through the queue.
As I was talking to my uncle, I got another distraction from behind. The lady who was standing just behind me suddenly screamed and threw her cellphone down. I literally jumped from my place and at first thought that it was because of me. Then she told me that the f***ing phone was drained…that too when she was in the middle of a call with UA representative. She was going to Pittsburg, which was also cancelled. It is okay to get frustrated. But throwing your expensive cell phone was too much.

Anyway, my uncle was able to cancel my UA ticket online, and because I had no checked in baggage, I was able to quit the queue and go back home. I took a taxi. Reached hotel at around 12 am. Slept. Woke up at around 3 am. Drove to Midway airport. 3 hours sleep and no dinner/breakfast. That was a real bad experience.

Luckily, I had a stopover at LA airport. I had my usual veggie sandwich/French Fries/Coke at a McDonalds there.

Reached here finally. Will write about the rest in the next post.

American Goof ups

Humor, Life etc.,

The moment I landed in US, the song “Swapnathilo njangal swargathilo” came to my mind.

For non-mallus, this is a song from the third movie in a comedy trilogy where the heroes land in US for investigating a case. That they solved their cases only by goof ups and some luck, is another story. The song translates to “Are we in a dream? Or are we in heaven?”

Little did I know that I would end up with a truckload of trouble like the protagonists.

#1
On day 1, I went with my cousin to a Restaurant. After lunch, I asked the waiter, “I want the bill back after you swipe my card.”
He just stared at me like I was talking Greek.
My cousin then corrected, “He’s talking about the check.”
“Oh..Alright.”, said the waiter.

“What the hell is a check?”, I asked my cousin after the waiter was gone.
“It is called check in restaurants here. Bill in US means…”
“Currency Notes. Oh man!!”, I cried.

#2
As we were going out of the hotel, a group of people were also exiting ahead of us. The last person of that group held the door open for me. But I was so absentminded that I didn’t notice that and simply went out as if there was no door there at all.

He looked at me in a disgusted manner.

My cousin corrected me again. I should hold the door as I exit. That is the way to return the courtesy here.

#3
This one too was related with open doors. Some of you already know that I have trouble with doors.
This time I failed to keep the door open as I was going through. And there was a lady right behind me.
As soon as she came out, she shouted at me, “Heyyy! You slammed the door right on my nauuuuse!!!” (Spelling of nose changed deliberately to show how she pronounced that!)
I thought, “WTF? She should be careful. It’s not my fault.”, but didn’t say anything. Not even a sorry.

#4
I came to know that people here are so possessive about their possessions through a funny incident. I had gone to my friend’s house and we were just having an “epilogue” chat near my car as I was leaving. I just leaned onto the adjacent car casually as I was talking. Some time later, a guy came with a huge dog ( I think a boxer ) on a leash and asked me curtly, “Please don’t lean onto that car.”

I thought I heard, “..or else my dog will rip you to shreds”, but I was just imagining that.

My friend told me that he was decent enough. She told me that people usually scream at you. You are not supposed to even touch other cars. People would think you are trying to steal it.

#5
Although this was not exactly a goof up, I’ll write this. This happened in the car park in front of a shopping mall. I was carelessly crossing the road around a corner when a car came from the corner and stopped just a foot away from me. (In Bangalore, you say “more than” a foot for the same situation). I jumped, but we encounter this so much in Bangalore that I casually went ahead.
I saw the person driving the car keeping her hands on her forehead in horror. She got out of the car and nervously approached me. She was a pretty young lady.
“I’m very very sorry about this. I didn’t see you around the corner.”
“Not to worry. I’m alright.”, I said as if it was not a deal at all.
I saw her sweating with jitters. There’s nothing worse than hitting a pedestrian in US.
For another 2 minutes, she repeated “I’m really really sorry”, “Are you okay?” and “Are you sure?”, until she got on my nerves.

BTW, why do girls always say “really really” or, sometimes, “really really really” when they are apologizing?

“I’m alright, alright? I won’t make a fuss of this. Forget this and don’t worry. You are blocking other cars.”, I grinned as I said.

I think the “I’m alright, alright?” will be a classic quote. 😀

And I got back a very pretty smile which many men would die for.
I wish I had been hit, then it would have had that “Back to the Future” (Or Five Point Someone) effect.

Looks like I always have some funny things going on in my life wherever I go. 🙂

Non-mallus, please don’t try to understand this. Because you won’t!!
What is left is to measure “How many kilometers are there from Washington to Miami beach”…
Kilometers and kilometers in these days of degenerating decency where….whatever!!!