The American dream
For an Indian, going to America for the first time is an adventure even in these days of superfast air travel. Thankfully, one no longer has to spend a lifetime en route, but there are issues. The price of the ticket and the muscularity of the dollar are the tag team that knock out most plans. Then there’s the visa.
The US visa is an object of desire, a stamp of having arrived in the world. It is a fitting answer to the question, ‘Tumhare paas kya hai?’ If you can turn around and say, ‘Mere pass 10-year multiple-entry US visa hai’, you’ll have won.
I said my prayers before heading for my first US visa interview in Mumbai. After about four hours in the queue when my turn came, I was sent packing in less than two minutes. The visa category I had been advised to apply in by the travel agent was wrong, I was told. It eventually took five visits to the consulate before I got my visa.
My flight to Washington was by Emirates, from Dubai. The airline had just started a new flight and was taking some journalists on a tour. So, for once, I was flying business class in a new Boeing 777 with all kinds of space age features. Your mobile phone and email will work on the flight, for example. The seat is a little marvel in itself; it can shift shapes and even give you a massage. It also becomes a flat bed. There is a tablet that controls it, and the entertainment system with its 1400 channels. But I was pressing all the buttons and nothing seemed to be happening. Then the guy in the next seat, who I could not see because of the partition between the seats, poked his head and said, “Er, excuse me, I think you are controlling my seat”. By then his seat had become a bed, and given him a little massage. We exchanged our tablets politely, and all was well after that. The flight itself was as pleasant as 14 and a half hours in the air can be.
Washington, when I emerged from Dulles airport, was lovely. I’d never been to the US before, but for an English-speaking Indian, America automatically feels comfortable.
DC itself is pretty, and a trifle boring if you’re not a museum buff. Georgetown, where the university is, has a lively buzz, but the rest of the city has ‘Roman bureaucracy’ emblazoned all over it. So, after catching up with an old friend, I took off to nearby New York.
If you haven’t been to NY, you haven’t lived. I’ve been to pretty much every capital in continental Europe including Paris, but not one has the buzz of Manhattan. The world lives in NY. Any street corner, you’ll find people of 10 nationalities waiting to cross the road. It has an energy that’s special.
The landmarks of NY are too famous to need introduction: the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, the site of the twin towers, the Museum of Modern Art and so on. They’re all worth visiting, certainly, but my favourite place in the city is Central Park. It is this massive park in the heart of Manhattan. From here, the city takes on a different aspect. It’s suddenly green, and quiet, and old, and very pretty.
To go and take a walk there on a morning, before heading to breakfast at one of the cafes in the streets near Carnegie Hall, is certainly one of the pleasures of a New York life.
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