London Diary
Day 1: Left for London accompanied by Shri Kunal who is a British subject in his mind, but as far as his body goes it is of no particular country. We landed at Heathrow Airport or, as it is popularly called, the country of “Heathrow’’. The immigration officer asked me only one question, “What do you do?’’ This took me by surprise.

I was completely unprepared for it. I was both perplexed and bewildered. I had no answer to this. I was prepared for other questions, such as “What is the capital of England?”, “Which part of Britain sounds like a fish, that’s also a mammal?” and “Who’s older, the queen or the country of Egypt?” Not knowing what to say, I decided to tell the truth. “Mathematician”, I yelled. Then realising that it looked wrong, I went on: “Tailor, shipyard dealer, endocrinologist”. I have to tell you, they let anyone into England these days.
The 40-minute drive was spent in bonding: Kunal and the cab driver bonded over cigarette, 20 of them. From the cab driver’s accent I couldn’t help but notice that they let anyone into England, these days.

Day 2: We moved into our apartment which was already occupied by my wife, daughter and another man. After looking at the man closely I could tell it was my son, Mikhaail. The apartment was spacious by London standards. Spacious by London standards means over 200 square feet. Upon seeing Kunal and me, my daughter Maya started dancing. Of course we realised later that her dress had been caught in the air-conditioner and she was actually just trying to disentangle herself.
My wife cooked up a nice English breakfast consisting of eggs and, well, eggs. We then started our tour of London by taking the London bus. The tour commentator described the places beautifully, nay, lucidly. There was just one problem: They weren’t the places the bus was actually visiting. But then again, they let anyone into England these days.
We then hit the compulsory site of Madame Tussauds. I had three cryptic comments — Sachin was too tall, Lara too short and Warne too thin, Pavarotti was too tanned, Elvis too wiry and Jackson too scary. However, the scariest thing at Madame Tussauds remains Madame Tussauds. One look at her likeness and one can’t help thinking they let anybody into England even these days. Then it was time for a walk in Hyde Park, apparently named so because it’s so spacious you’d have more than plenty of place to hide.

Day 3: We hit the museums. Maya talked and Mikhaail slept through the entire experience, making it time well-spent for the entire family. It was then that my son had a moment, that special sort of moment that one experiences maybe just once or twice in a lifetime. He saw a Burger King sign.

Day 4: Although medieval torture has been largely banned in most districts of Great Britain, there are still a few isolated places where the old torture practice continues unabated. Once such place is a place called Windsor. The exact address of the torture chamber is Legoland, Windsor, England. Here medieval torture is held with a modern free-market twist. They torture you and then you have to pay for it. (No pun intended). For a considerable fee you are descended from a boat. Plunging into a waterfall, suffocating in a submarine, or my personal favourite hyperventilating in a roller coaster. And after all these collective experiences, people were walking around laughing and smiling. Stretched and quartered, scared out of their wits and lighter in their wallets, but laughing and smiling. All I can say is they let just about anybody into England these days.
After Legoland I needed four days to recover — the London Eye, Westminster, Lords, the Thames, the London Tower were all a blur. But the surreal journey ended as it began, at a fancy bar in central London. I saw one of the world’s most wanted men, Lalit Modi. Proof if ever, that they let anybody into London these days.