The day is long, night even longer. The sun chars, the darkness disorients. Nothing seems right. Not a soul around.
No helping hand reaches out even after a thousand screams for help.
Uncertainty leads to grief, and then the realization that this is probably the end. Pain overpowers every other feeling.
Who was right? Who was wrong? Was there any right and wrong in it after all?
So everything will be left behind..... why doesn't anybody care?
Damn.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
A Sunday at Yale
An impromptu trip to one of the most respectable seats of learning, spending hours walking through the different institutions there, talking to students and professors on a wide variety of subjects and listening to the stories of the illustrious legends that have come out of there – that was how I spent this Sunday.
The University of Yale is a three hour trip one way from where I live. I had wanted to go on Saturday itself, so that I could relax at home on Sunday; but my delicate condition on Friday night left too much to be desired, and common sense prevailed when I woke up on Saturday. Of course, I ended the day in a much better state, so I was all shining and sparkling, ready to go to Yale this morning.
It took me three hours to get there, and I spent a little less than four hours at Yale, walking through the huge campus spread over the city of New Haven in Connecticut. The School of Art, School of Management, Law School, Hewitt Quad, School of Music, School of Drama, School of Architecture, Graduate School, School of Forestry and Environmental Studies, Old Campus, Grove Street Cemetery – I walked through all. Apart from visiting the different schools, I also enjoyed an Indian buffet lunch I had with a group of Yale students of five different nationalities (none of who was Indian). There were actually a bunch of Indian and Thai restaurants on the street next to the School of Art; I was very surprised with the variety and choices available.
It was refreshing to spend the afternoon talking to a group of bright, intelligent young people.... kind of a contrast to the bullshit that you encounter most of the times in the corporate world. Alas, time just flew, and when the clock struck four, I realized it was time to leave. I must have walked eight or nine miles during the day. I headed back to the New Haven station. I liked that station, well-constructed, well-maintained, not as large and crowded as the Grand Central or the Penn Station, plenty of place for people to peacefully sit.
The journey back was again three hours. I was home by seven, and quite tired.... not exhausted, not wasted, just tired... in a pleasant and happy way. I have no aches or stiffness, and I have no energy left today to think or worry about matters that normally occupy my mind at the end of the day.... there is just this simple longing to snuggle into the bed and go to sleep.
Back to the grind tomorrow.
The University of Yale is a three hour trip one way from where I live. I had wanted to go on Saturday itself, so that I could relax at home on Sunday; but my delicate condition on Friday night left too much to be desired, and common sense prevailed when I woke up on Saturday. Of course, I ended the day in a much better state, so I was all shining and sparkling, ready to go to Yale this morning.
It took me three hours to get there, and I spent a little less than four hours at Yale, walking through the huge campus spread over the city of New Haven in Connecticut. The School of Art, School of Management, Law School, Hewitt Quad, School of Music, School of Drama, School of Architecture, Graduate School, School of Forestry and Environmental Studies, Old Campus, Grove Street Cemetery – I walked through all. Apart from visiting the different schools, I also enjoyed an Indian buffet lunch I had with a group of Yale students of five different nationalities (none of who was Indian). There were actually a bunch of Indian and Thai restaurants on the street next to the School of Art; I was very surprised with the variety and choices available.
It was refreshing to spend the afternoon talking to a group of bright, intelligent young people.... kind of a contrast to the bullshit that you encounter most of the times in the corporate world. Alas, time just flew, and when the clock struck four, I realized it was time to leave. I must have walked eight or nine miles during the day. I headed back to the New Haven station. I liked that station, well-constructed, well-maintained, not as large and crowded as the Grand Central or the Penn Station, plenty of place for people to peacefully sit.
The journey back was again three hours. I was home by seven, and quite tired.... not exhausted, not wasted, just tired... in a pleasant and happy way. I have no aches or stiffness, and I have no energy left today to think or worry about matters that normally occupy my mind at the end of the day.... there is just this simple longing to snuggle into the bed and go to sleep.
Back to the grind tomorrow.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Soon
The days are getting shorter. The sun rises later than it did a few weeks back.... sets earlier. There is an occasional coolness in the air, and a walk outside during the day has started to feel pleasant. There still are days when the temperature and humidity is summer-like, but those days are few in between.
The trees and bushes haven’t shed their leaves yet, and flowers are still all around. The foliage is still lush green. But all this won’t be there for too long. Soon, it’ll be fall officially. Flowers will wither away. Leaves will change colors, and then fall. It will be beautiful for a while, when time would stand still... and then everything will be over.
I will yearn for things I loved most. I will want to hold back time in my grasp, knowing only too well that I won’t be able to. Soon, I will be in a new world yet again. And I’ll be thankful for that too.
I won’t miss the job. I’ll miss the place.
I won’t miss the individuals (at least not most of them). I’ll miss the opportunity to interact with the diverse diaspora.
And, I’ll sorely miss the camaraderie I shared with a handful whose friendships I value.
Hopefully, I would have done all that I want to, by the time it is time.
The trees and bushes haven’t shed their leaves yet, and flowers are still all around. The foliage is still lush green. But all this won’t be there for too long. Soon, it’ll be fall officially. Flowers will wither away. Leaves will change colors, and then fall. It will be beautiful for a while, when time would stand still... and then everything will be over.
I will yearn for things I loved most. I will want to hold back time in my grasp, knowing only too well that I won’t be able to. Soon, I will be in a new world yet again. And I’ll be thankful for that too.
I won’t miss the job. I’ll miss the place.
I won’t miss the individuals (at least not most of them). I’ll miss the opportunity to interact with the diverse diaspora.
And, I’ll sorely miss the camaraderie I shared with a handful whose friendships I value.
Hopefully, I would have done all that I want to, by the time it is time.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Niagara Falls: To Paradise and back
It was a weekend getaway, not really planned too much in advance. My previous three attempts to visit Niagara had been thwarted due to emergencies at work. I realized if I didn’t do the trip within a few weeks now, I wouldn’t be able to go there this year either, because it gets really, really cold up there, anywhere between 10 to 25 degrees below the NYC and immediate suburb temperatures, which in the first place is way too cold for my tropically tuned body sensors.
Due to lack of adequate advance planning I could not get on a focused Niagara tour, instead got myself booked on a Philadelphia-Washington DC-Niagara Tour. In hindsight, it worked out for the better; I got to see some historic places in Philadelphia, which is the birthplace of America and got to revisit Washington DC.
The drive from DC to Niagara was long, long, long. But, it was worth it. It was my first time in upstate New York, and I could clearly feel that this part of the state was a lot cooler.
Even as I was approaching the city of Niagara Falls late in the evening, I could see the mist over the actual falls from a distance. We would take the Maid of the Mist boat ride the next morning and visit the Luna Island and the Goat Island. That night we saw a feature titled the 'Adventure of Niagara Falls' at the I-Max theatre, and after that walked across to see the night view of the falls. The Canadian side was far brighter than the American side, with all those casinos and large hotels. The American side seemed to be but a poor cousin.
The next morning came with rather funny weather. Or perhaps, that’s how the weather is around those parts. It was weeping tears of heavy rain one moment, and smiling in resplendent sunshine the very next moment.
The Falls are so powerful that the moment you approach them, you are sprayed by a continuous mist of water. Add to that the rains... a perfect recipe to be completely drenched. And the temperatures were not too high either – in the 50s. So net-net, quite cold.
The erratic weather had its gifts. I was able to experience one of the most spectacular natural phenomena – walking through a rainbow. I saw the rainbow form and disappear several times from above, when sun and rains were playing hide and seek. But as I descended, actually walking through a rainbow gave me the most surreal feeling. It was like walking through the gateway to paradise.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.
The Maid of the Mist boat ride was fantastic. So much water! Water that had tremendous power, fury and beauty, all at the same time. The boat sailed, with the American Stars and Stripes fluttering on one side and the Canadian Red Maple Leaf on the other. I was in between nations. A hundred photos were clicked. Every moment was lived, loved and enjoyed.
Those lousy blue raincoats did make me feel rather funny though.
I had been to paradise. Going back took 10 full hours. But everything was worth that visit.
Due to lack of adequate advance planning I could not get on a focused Niagara tour, instead got myself booked on a Philadelphia-Washington DC-Niagara Tour. In hindsight, it worked out for the better; I got to see some historic places in Philadelphia, which is the birthplace of America and got to revisit Washington DC.
The drive from DC to Niagara was long, long, long. But, it was worth it. It was my first time in upstate New York, and I could clearly feel that this part of the state was a lot cooler.
Even as I was approaching the city of Niagara Falls late in the evening, I could see the mist over the actual falls from a distance. We would take the Maid of the Mist boat ride the next morning and visit the Luna Island and the Goat Island. That night we saw a feature titled the 'Adventure of Niagara Falls' at the I-Max theatre, and after that walked across to see the night view of the falls. The Canadian side was far brighter than the American side, with all those casinos and large hotels. The American side seemed to be but a poor cousin.
The next morning came with rather funny weather. Or perhaps, that’s how the weather is around those parts. It was weeping tears of heavy rain one moment, and smiling in resplendent sunshine the very next moment.
The Falls are so powerful that the moment you approach them, you are sprayed by a continuous mist of water. Add to that the rains... a perfect recipe to be completely drenched. And the temperatures were not too high either – in the 50s. So net-net, quite cold.
The erratic weather had its gifts. I was able to experience one of the most spectacular natural phenomena – walking through a rainbow. I saw the rainbow form and disappear several times from above, when sun and rains were playing hide and seek. But as I descended, actually walking through a rainbow gave me the most surreal feeling. It was like walking through the gateway to paradise.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.
The Maid of the Mist boat ride was fantastic. So much water! Water that had tremendous power, fury and beauty, all at the same time. The boat sailed, with the American Stars and Stripes fluttering on one side and the Canadian Red Maple Leaf on the other. I was in between nations. A hundred photos were clicked. Every moment was lived, loved and enjoyed.
Those lousy blue raincoats did make me feel rather funny though.
I had been to paradise. Going back took 10 full hours. But everything was worth that visit.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Identity
An American soldier wounded in the Korean War being treated at the MASH 4077 tried to commit suicide. He was one of the bravest soldiers around, having taken up some of the most challenging and dangerous fronts during the war.
Nobody could understand why he tried to kill himself. So, they got the psychologist Major Sidney Freedman to see him.
This is what Sidney unearthed . . .
The soldier had been overridden by guilt. He was a man of Chinese origin, but American nationality. He joined the army to fight for America to prove he was a loyal American. He took the most dangerous assignments because he felt guilty about not being of American origin. He had to prove his loyalty. He didn’t care about dying – rather the idea gave him solace. If he died fighting for the American army, he would always be remembered as a loyal American.
But, when he was killing Chinese men as an American soldier, he felt guilty of killing men, who were his own, men who might have been his extended family. This guilt overpowered his sensibilities, and he tried to commit suicide to punish himself for killing his own men.
I watched this M*A*S*H episode tonight. And it got me thinking . . .
Where do you really belong when you don’t belong to one place, one state, one nation? Who are you when you feel you belong everywhere and nowhere at the same time? What do you do when conflicting loyalties and blurred identities become a way of life?
May be, you do nothing. Just sit back for a while, smile and move on.
Nobody could understand why he tried to kill himself. So, they got the psychologist Major Sidney Freedman to see him.
This is what Sidney unearthed . . .
The soldier had been overridden by guilt. He was a man of Chinese origin, but American nationality. He joined the army to fight for America to prove he was a loyal American. He took the most dangerous assignments because he felt guilty about not being of American origin. He had to prove his loyalty. He didn’t care about dying – rather the idea gave him solace. If he died fighting for the American army, he would always be remembered as a loyal American.
But, when he was killing Chinese men as an American soldier, he felt guilty of killing men, who were his own, men who might have been his extended family. This guilt overpowered his sensibilities, and he tried to commit suicide to punish himself for killing his own men.
I watched this M*A*S*H episode tonight. And it got me thinking . . .
Where do you really belong when you don’t belong to one place, one state, one nation? Who are you when you feel you belong everywhere and nowhere at the same time? What do you do when conflicting loyalties and blurred identities become a way of life?
May be, you do nothing. Just sit back for a while, smile and move on.
Friday, August 8, 2008
What makes you happy
Someone once told me that I should always do what makes me happy.
What if what makes me happy is something someone else would do? Does that mean that my locus of control is outside of me? Is that bad?
However indifferent I try to be, I cannot help feeling happy when someone does something I always wished they would do.... and I cannot help feeling totally heartbroken when they end up not doing something I desperately wanted them to do or they do something I prayed they would never do.
I try hard not to, but on more occasions than I want to, I end up taking things personally.
Is that bad as well?
See, I always want to be happy.... but the thing is that the relationship between my independent actions and my happiness is not a simple linear function in two variables. My guess is that it is an equation of nth degree with indeterminate number of variables at any point. Even the number and degree of variables in the function keep changing with time. Some variables drop out with time. New ones enter the equation, unannounced. How do I maximize my happiness when the dependency on different variables is so dynamic?
By the way, can everything be reduced to a mathematical equation?
What if what makes me happy is something someone else would do? Does that mean that my locus of control is outside of me? Is that bad?
However indifferent I try to be, I cannot help feeling happy when someone does something I always wished they would do.... and I cannot help feeling totally heartbroken when they end up not doing something I desperately wanted them to do or they do something I prayed they would never do.
I try hard not to, but on more occasions than I want to, I end up taking things personally.
Is that bad as well?
See, I always want to be happy.... but the thing is that the relationship between my independent actions and my happiness is not a simple linear function in two variables. My guess is that it is an equation of nth degree with indeterminate number of variables at any point. Even the number and degree of variables in the function keep changing with time. Some variables drop out with time. New ones enter the equation, unannounced. How do I maximize my happiness when the dependency on different variables is so dynamic?
By the way, can everything be reduced to a mathematical equation?
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Acts of Kindness
October 2002
IIM-Calcutta Campus, Calcutta, India
I was writhing in pain, half unconscious and the upper part of my body was covered in blood. Many classmates, batchmates and juniors were around me, though that part seems very fuzzy. I had to be taken to the hospital immediately....
I was in a car, Vidya beside me. Didn’t she have a 7 am flight to catch?
I was in the hospital, lying on a bed.
The injections were painful... and I no longer felt numb. The pain was severe.
The doctor was glad I had been brought to the hospital right then.
My wounds healed, I recovered.
How did I get to the hospital from the remote suburbs of my campus at 4 am in the night (or morning... whatever you want to call it)? There were no cabs around at that hour.
Nimish, a junior with his car on campus, who I didn’t know, and who didn’t know me, had been woken up at 3-30 am. He had a Statistics mid-term paper the next morning. He drove me to the hospital. He didn’t have to, but he did. Vidya didn’t have to come with me, but she did.
That was kindness.
February, 2008
Somers, New York, USA
It was bitterly cold outside, ten degrees below freezing. The time was 6-30 pm, and it was pitch dark. Victoria asked me if I wanted to come along. Of course, I did. But I couldn’t. Because I had to complete a piece of work and have a review within the next hour or so. And after that review, I would have millions of changes to make, which I would have to make that night itself, because the deck needed to go out before the meeting the next morning. I had prepared myself mentally to stay back in the office that night. I saw no other way out. My only chance of leaving office would have been after the review call was done, but there would be no transportation available. And that was what I told Victoria, and asked her to carry on.
She didn’t.
She waited. Till my review was done. Till 8-45 pm. Over two hours past the time she had intended to leave. She waited because she knew I would have no other means of getting home. She waited because she knew that if I stayed back in office all night, I would probably be a ghost next morning. She waited because she wanted to help. She didn’t have to, but she did.
That was kindness.
March, 2008
Somers, New York, USA
I had been working on this project for almost a year. It would have the most disastrous results, if it were ever executed, but I wasn’t the one making the decisions, so I had to work irrespective of my personal opinion. I spent countless nights and weekends on that piece of crap. However, when things started moving on it, I was just told over a phone call that they had decided to transition the project.
Why?
I felt slighted, humiliated, sidelined and used. Whose decision was it? And why now? There had been times when I had been begging people to take it off my shoulders, but all that happened was spin, spin and more spin. Now that we would get our acts together to get to a decision, they decided to take it away from me... Why?
I couldn’t find answers, and I kept feeling more and more humiliated and wretched.
So I spoke to them...
Bill happily agreed to let me continue running it, and helped me with everything. In spite of the mess that project was, it was the most valuable learning experience I’ve had. Bill is the best teacher I’ve ever had. He didn’t have to do it, but he did.
That was kindness.
I recount these today because for some reason, I wanted to remind myself of the kindness that has been showered on me. Three different situations, three different people.... and come to think of it, three different nationalities. They went out of their way to help me. Even though they didn't have to. Even though they didn’t know me.
And I remain indebted, forever.
IIM-Calcutta Campus, Calcutta, India
I was writhing in pain, half unconscious and the upper part of my body was covered in blood. Many classmates, batchmates and juniors were around me, though that part seems very fuzzy. I had to be taken to the hospital immediately....
I was in a car, Vidya beside me. Didn’t she have a 7 am flight to catch?
I was in the hospital, lying on a bed.
The injections were painful... and I no longer felt numb. The pain was severe.
The doctor was glad I had been brought to the hospital right then.
My wounds healed, I recovered.
How did I get to the hospital from the remote suburbs of my campus at 4 am in the night (or morning... whatever you want to call it)? There were no cabs around at that hour.
Nimish, a junior with his car on campus, who I didn’t know, and who didn’t know me, had been woken up at 3-30 am. He had a Statistics mid-term paper the next morning. He drove me to the hospital. He didn’t have to, but he did. Vidya didn’t have to come with me, but she did.
That was kindness.
February, 2008
Somers, New York, USA
It was bitterly cold outside, ten degrees below freezing. The time was 6-30 pm, and it was pitch dark. Victoria asked me if I wanted to come along. Of course, I did. But I couldn’t. Because I had to complete a piece of work and have a review within the next hour or so. And after that review, I would have millions of changes to make, which I would have to make that night itself, because the deck needed to go out before the meeting the next morning. I had prepared myself mentally to stay back in the office that night. I saw no other way out. My only chance of leaving office would have been after the review call was done, but there would be no transportation available. And that was what I told Victoria, and asked her to carry on.
She didn’t.
She waited. Till my review was done. Till 8-45 pm. Over two hours past the time she had intended to leave. She waited because she knew I would have no other means of getting home. She waited because she knew that if I stayed back in office all night, I would probably be a ghost next morning. She waited because she wanted to help. She didn’t have to, but she did.
That was kindness.
March, 2008
Somers, New York, USA
I had been working on this project for almost a year. It would have the most disastrous results, if it were ever executed, but I wasn’t the one making the decisions, so I had to work irrespective of my personal opinion. I spent countless nights and weekends on that piece of crap. However, when things started moving on it, I was just told over a phone call that they had decided to transition the project.
Why?
I felt slighted, humiliated, sidelined and used. Whose decision was it? And why now? There had been times when I had been begging people to take it off my shoulders, but all that happened was spin, spin and more spin. Now that we would get our acts together to get to a decision, they decided to take it away from me... Why?
I couldn’t find answers, and I kept feeling more and more humiliated and wretched.
So I spoke to them...
Bill happily agreed to let me continue running it, and helped me with everything. In spite of the mess that project was, it was the most valuable learning experience I’ve had. Bill is the best teacher I’ve ever had. He didn’t have to do it, but he did.
That was kindness.
I recount these today because for some reason, I wanted to remind myself of the kindness that has been showered on me. Three different situations, three different people.... and come to think of it, three different nationalities. They went out of their way to help me. Even though they didn't have to. Even though they didn’t know me.
And I remain indebted, forever.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Vacations – Vegas to LA and back to NY
June 22nd, 2008
It was time to say goodbye, go back home and resume where I had left. I knew I would feel my eyes light up with joy every once in a while, when the memories of these beautiful days I had spent traveling through the heart of America would float into my mind.
We started from Vegas after 11 am, one hour behind the original schedule. It was a rather quiet drive, not too many stops except for the usual lunch and rest stops, most people dozing off and some random music playing on the bus. We did cross the famous Death Valley en route to Los Angeles, drove through a stretch of desert abundant with Joshua trees, saw the world’s largest thermometer and made a brief stop at Ghost Town. Lucy and I had unhealthy and tasty Chinese junk food for lunch.
We reached Los Angeles by 6 pm. Los Angeles is the second largest city in the USA, and has tons of tourist attractions. Unfortunately, I had less than a day to spend there, as I was flying out the next day. We were put up in a hotel right opposite Disneyworld; I, however, opted to go for an evening tour of the city. I saw quite a lot in a few hours – Hollywood, Mann's Chinese Theatre, Sunset Strip, Beverly Hills, Universal Studios and a glorious view of LA skyscrapers all lit up at night. Though, I have to admit, that by the end of it, I was so tired that all I wanted was to get a shower and then sleep.
June 23rd, 2008
I had breakfast in the hotel dining room, and then caught a shuttle to LAX International. I was booked on an 11 am Delta non-stop from LAX to JFK. If only that flight departed per schedule, I would have been in New York by 8 pm; but the masters of the air had other plans.... as soon as I reached LAX Delta terminal, I was told that the 11 am flight had been cancelled. My heart sank a little.
Well, I succeeded in getting myself booked to the 3-30 pm Delta non-stop, but unfortunately, it was delayed by an hour. I spent time at LAX reading a book on Google. We took off from LA after 4-30 pm. The flight was peaceful; I spent some time reading the book and the rest of the time sleeping.
We landed at JFK at 1 am in the night, but it wasn’t over yet.... even as we were taking out our cabin baggages from the overhead bins and preparing to get off, the captain apologetically announced that the bridge we were supposed to use to get off was broken, and needed to be repaired. Well, why on earth couldn’t they use another bridge? These things have to happen at 1 am in the night!
I finally got off from the plane at 2 am, and straightaway caught a cab for White Plains. The funny thing was, while my ticket from LAX to JFK had cost me $124, the cab fare from JFK to home cost me $140. I guess it pretty much balanced out. As soon as I got home, I just crashed into bed. I had taken the next day off from work, so I would have time to do my grocery, laundry and cleaning.
It was good to be back. It had been a great vacation, a great journey, traveling through seventeen states of America, stopping in eleven different places, waking up in a new place practically every morning, seeing some of the best artistries of nature and most notable demonstrations of human effort and perseverance, mingling in the countryside America.... and loving every moment of it.
I was ready for the grind again, rejuvenated, strengthened, motivated and energetic.
This concludes my narrative of the vacations. It has taken me eight blog posts, spanning twenty-five days to finish this. Most of it has been written on weekdays before bedtime. Some of it was written over weekends. I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed reminiscing. I was reliving those days as I was writing. Life really couldn’t get any better.
It was time to say goodbye, go back home and resume where I had left. I knew I would feel my eyes light up with joy every once in a while, when the memories of these beautiful days I had spent traveling through the heart of America would float into my mind.
We started from Vegas after 11 am, one hour behind the original schedule. It was a rather quiet drive, not too many stops except for the usual lunch and rest stops, most people dozing off and some random music playing on the bus. We did cross the famous Death Valley en route to Los Angeles, drove through a stretch of desert abundant with Joshua trees, saw the world’s largest thermometer and made a brief stop at Ghost Town. Lucy and I had unhealthy and tasty Chinese junk food for lunch.
We reached Los Angeles by 6 pm. Los Angeles is the second largest city in the USA, and has tons of tourist attractions. Unfortunately, I had less than a day to spend there, as I was flying out the next day. We were put up in a hotel right opposite Disneyworld; I, however, opted to go for an evening tour of the city. I saw quite a lot in a few hours – Hollywood, Mann's Chinese Theatre, Sunset Strip, Beverly Hills, Universal Studios and a glorious view of LA skyscrapers all lit up at night. Though, I have to admit, that by the end of it, I was so tired that all I wanted was to get a shower and then sleep.
June 23rd, 2008
I had breakfast in the hotel dining room, and then caught a shuttle to LAX International. I was booked on an 11 am Delta non-stop from LAX to JFK. If only that flight departed per schedule, I would have been in New York by 8 pm; but the masters of the air had other plans.... as soon as I reached LAX Delta terminal, I was told that the 11 am flight had been cancelled. My heart sank a little.
Well, I succeeded in getting myself booked to the 3-30 pm Delta non-stop, but unfortunately, it was delayed by an hour. I spent time at LAX reading a book on Google. We took off from LA after 4-30 pm. The flight was peaceful; I spent some time reading the book and the rest of the time sleeping.
We landed at JFK at 1 am in the night, but it wasn’t over yet.... even as we were taking out our cabin baggages from the overhead bins and preparing to get off, the captain apologetically announced that the bridge we were supposed to use to get off was broken, and needed to be repaired. Well, why on earth couldn’t they use another bridge? These things have to happen at 1 am in the night!
I finally got off from the plane at 2 am, and straightaway caught a cab for White Plains. The funny thing was, while my ticket from LAX to JFK had cost me $124, the cab fare from JFK to home cost me $140. I guess it pretty much balanced out. As soon as I got home, I just crashed into bed. I had taken the next day off from work, so I would have time to do my grocery, laundry and cleaning.
It was good to be back. It had been a great vacation, a great journey, traveling through seventeen states of America, stopping in eleven different places, waking up in a new place practically every morning, seeing some of the best artistries of nature and most notable demonstrations of human effort and perseverance, mingling in the countryside America.... and loving every moment of it.
I was ready for the grind again, rejuvenated, strengthened, motivated and energetic.
This concludes my narrative of the vacations. It has taken me eight blog posts, spanning twenty-five days to finish this. Most of it has been written on weekdays before bedtime. Some of it was written over weekends. I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed reminiscing. I was reliving those days as I was writing. Life really couldn’t get any better.
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