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ravenI'm home. My own computer feels remarkably weird to type on, but in a good way. Equally, everything in the house seems the same but different - it's hard to explain. I keep feeling everything is lower than I remember - the stone table, for example, which is about at the level of my hips when I'm standing up, seems to have shrunk. I don't think I've grown taller, so it's a mystery.
The journey started off weirdly and got weirder. I woke up to a message from Nupur - "Dear Iona didi, I'm sorry I had to go to a rehearsal today and thank you for coming here for your summer. love Nupur. PS Nirvana rock." I replied in kind, and we set off for the airport about midday. I checked in, removed my shoes, and sat down to wait for the flight when they called my name over the tannoy. I ambled off to the check-in desk, where they told me my bag had contained plastic explosive! That got my attention - they went on to say it was only a trace on the outside on the bag, and besides, they use some of the same chemicals in plastic explosive and hand lotion. I agreed that hand lotion was a much more likely source, and could they please put my bag on the plane now? They complied and I went back to the departure gate.
The flight was rather uneventful, and I reached Philadelphia bang on time. I had to change terminals, of course, but before I did that, I went into one of the many little stuff-you-need-to-travel shops and attempted to buy a magazine. It's such a complicated process when you don't know what you're looking for - in the end I grabbed something called "Teen People" and then moved on to the sweets. Again, I had no idea what to look for, so I picked up Reese's Pieces (ET! Phone home!) and a Butterfinger, as I remember it vaguely from when I've been in India. It looked interesting, so I bought it, along with the magazine and the Reese's Pieces, and ambled off out again towards the next terminal.
While I was doing it, I passed a man on his own, limping along on crutches. One of those guys on those electric buggy things passed him and yelled, "Hey, buddy!" He stopped driving the thing, let the crutches guy on, and drove onwards. Next, they stopped for an old lady and a harrassed looking woman with a toddler, and then the crutches guy shouted in a thick Irish accent, "That girl wants a lift!" He was pointing at me, and the driver-guy slowed down, told me,"You're the last one!" and let me get on. It was so much fun - the guy had to shout, "Cart coming through! Stand clear!" and everyone had to jump out of the way. It was quite a distance - would've taken me a while if I'd been walking, and while we were going the Irish guy asked me where I was going. "Manchester," I told him, and then asked if, by any chance, he were going to Ireland.
"How'd you know?" he asked. I just laughed, and yelled at him not to injure himself further when he clambered off at his gate. Before he left, he gave me something small and said to give it to the driver of the cart. When I finally got off and gave it to him, it turned out to be a green token with the words "Good for one drink in Paddy's Bar" on it. I have no idea whether Paddy's Bar is in Ireland or Pensylvania or where, but the driver guy thought it was hilarious. I would have stayed longer, but they were calling my name over the tannoy again!
It wasn't explosives, this time; they just wanted to give me the boarding pass they hadn't been able to issue in Philadelphia, and this flight left right on time, too. The flight would have been a good one, but the moment we took off a headache kicked in, almost literally, so I spent much of the first half of the flight clutching my head and wailing. My mother had left some paracetamol in the bag, so I took that, and ate the (weird pasta) inflight meal, and wrote. A lot. I managed to cover about eight sides, full of rambling fanfic. I have so much to type up. So, yes, that flight wasn't too eventful either. I watched Two Weeks' Notice and a couple of episodes of Frasier and Scrubs (I love that show, love it) and realised I was sitting next to one of the more moronic fellow travellers I'd met so far. I don't care how much of a newbie you are, everyone knows that you don't bloody use a mobile at thirty thousand feet if you don't want to inadvertently crash the aircraft. Blah.
So, yes. Arrived back in the Old World at eight in the morning, came home, was polite to my grandmother (Dadi, I call her - she's going to be here for a few months, having come back with my parents from the wedding) and listened to what my mother had to say about the wedding. She now says I was right, and it was a good thing I didn't come, as the heat and the monsoon rains were almost unbearable. The wedding, however, was fantastic, apparently - more on that later - but she's glad to be home. I'm glad to be home, too. The house is so peaceful and quiet, and just nice.
I think I will now go and start on list messages. Everyone talks so much!
The journey started off weirdly and got weirder. I woke up to a message from Nupur - "Dear Iona didi, I'm sorry I had to go to a rehearsal today and thank you for coming here for your summer. love Nupur. PS Nirvana rock." I replied in kind, and we set off for the airport about midday. I checked in, removed my shoes, and sat down to wait for the flight when they called my name over the tannoy. I ambled off to the check-in desk, where they told me my bag had contained plastic explosive! That got my attention - they went on to say it was only a trace on the outside on the bag, and besides, they use some of the same chemicals in plastic explosive and hand lotion. I agreed that hand lotion was a much more likely source, and could they please put my bag on the plane now? They complied and I went back to the departure gate.
The flight was rather uneventful, and I reached Philadelphia bang on time. I had to change terminals, of course, but before I did that, I went into one of the many little stuff-you-need-to-travel shops and attempted to buy a magazine. It's such a complicated process when you don't know what you're looking for - in the end I grabbed something called "Teen People" and then moved on to the sweets. Again, I had no idea what to look for, so I picked up Reese's Pieces (ET! Phone home!) and a Butterfinger, as I remember it vaguely from when I've been in India. It looked interesting, so I bought it, along with the magazine and the Reese's Pieces, and ambled off out again towards the next terminal.
While I was doing it, I passed a man on his own, limping along on crutches. One of those guys on those electric buggy things passed him and yelled, "Hey, buddy!" He stopped driving the thing, let the crutches guy on, and drove onwards. Next, they stopped for an old lady and a harrassed looking woman with a toddler, and then the crutches guy shouted in a thick Irish accent, "That girl wants a lift!" He was pointing at me, and the driver-guy slowed down, told me,"You're the last one!" and let me get on. It was so much fun - the guy had to shout, "Cart coming through! Stand clear!" and everyone had to jump out of the way. It was quite a distance - would've taken me a while if I'd been walking, and while we were going the Irish guy asked me where I was going. "Manchester," I told him, and then asked if, by any chance, he were going to Ireland.
"How'd you know?" he asked. I just laughed, and yelled at him not to injure himself further when he clambered off at his gate. Before he left, he gave me something small and said to give it to the driver of the cart. When I finally got off and gave it to him, it turned out to be a green token with the words "Good for one drink in Paddy's Bar" on it. I have no idea whether Paddy's Bar is in Ireland or Pensylvania or where, but the driver guy thought it was hilarious. I would have stayed longer, but they were calling my name over the tannoy again!
It wasn't explosives, this time; they just wanted to give me the boarding pass they hadn't been able to issue in Philadelphia, and this flight left right on time, too. The flight would have been a good one, but the moment we took off a headache kicked in, almost literally, so I spent much of the first half of the flight clutching my head and wailing. My mother had left some paracetamol in the bag, so I took that, and ate the (weird pasta) inflight meal, and wrote. A lot. I managed to cover about eight sides, full of rambling fanfic. I have so much to type up. So, yes, that flight wasn't too eventful either. I watched Two Weeks' Notice and a couple of episodes of Frasier and Scrubs (I love that show, love it) and realised I was sitting next to one of the more moronic fellow travellers I'd met so far. I don't care how much of a newbie you are, everyone knows that you don't bloody use a mobile at thirty thousand feet if you don't want to inadvertently crash the aircraft. Blah.
So, yes. Arrived back in the Old World at eight in the morning, came home, was polite to my grandmother (Dadi, I call her - she's going to be here for a few months, having come back with my parents from the wedding) and listened to what my mother had to say about the wedding. She now says I was right, and it was a good thing I didn't come, as the heat and the monsoon rains were almost unbearable. The wedding, however, was fantastic, apparently - more on that later - but she's glad to be home. I'm glad to be home, too. The house is so peaceful and quiet, and just nice.
I think I will now go and start on list messages. Everyone talks so much!