The curse is getting stronger. It isn't even midnight yet and already New Year's Eve has let me down.
Well done, indeed.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
London, my love
12.11.09. Had an existential conversation with the immigration at London Heathrow airport. Well, existential for me, bit of a security concern for him. He asked me where I was headed and I said, "Home, U.S." Furrowed brow and what not he looked at my navy blue Indian passport and said, "I thought you'd say, 'home, India.'" I told him I was coming from home, India. Confusion pierced the air around us. He looked down at my passport again not having seen signs of dual citizenship and asked how long I had been in the U.S. I told him. "Oh, I suppose it is home for you then," he said, proud for having solved the conundrum of the hour. "There's some general confusion," I said as I hurried off with my stamped passport.
12.13.09. So here we are then back in London. Food poisoning stopped by my first night here and forced me to spend endless hours in the loo throwing up things I was sure I hadn't eaten. I'm more or less recovered by now and ready to bond with the family and shop till I drop -- both I intend to do rather passionately.
12.16.09. LHR Gate A 13 (Closest gate to the Duty Free Shop). Fine, so I might have found my perfume of the season. It's Issey Miyakie's L'Eau D'Issey. A close second is Gucci's Flora. Oh, hmm, just converted the cost of the Flora into the weak and watery dollar and it's 70-unholy-dollars. On to less burn-a-hole-in-your-pocket sort of things then.
I was lucky enough to see London's first snow of the season. Most lovely. Londoners seem to be a bit lily-livered when it comes to snow though threatening to shut down the city as soon as a few flurries hit the city's perpetually soggy streets. Now I'm sitting here watching planes slide on and off the tarmac as the snow outside continues to fall silently.
On a somewhat random note, I didn't know it was illegal to take photographs of airports in India. Unfortunate, considering most of my favorite (and rather similar looking) shots are of airports (in other countries) by day, night, sunset, moonrise, you get the gist. On that continued random note, I'll just say that I'll always love airports and the endless stories they hold, each one updated by the minute. They always give me that feeling of going somewhere, somewhere special, somewhere gloriously happy.
Time to lie down and look out through the incredibly large glass windows. Surprise me, London. Show me a color other than gray.
12.something.09. Home.
12.13.09. So here we are then back in London. Food poisoning stopped by my first night here and forced me to spend endless hours in the loo throwing up things I was sure I hadn't eaten. I'm more or less recovered by now and ready to bond with the family and shop till I drop -- both I intend to do rather passionately.
12.16.09. LHR Gate A 13 (Closest gate to the Duty Free Shop). Fine, so I might have found my perfume of the season. It's Issey Miyakie's L'Eau D'Issey. A close second is Gucci's Flora. Oh, hmm, just converted the cost of the Flora into the weak and watery dollar and it's 70-unholy-dollars. On to less burn-a-hole-in-your-pocket sort of things then.
I was lucky enough to see London's first snow of the season. Most lovely. Londoners seem to be a bit lily-livered when it comes to snow though threatening to shut down the city as soon as a few flurries hit the city's perpetually soggy streets. Now I'm sitting here watching planes slide on and off the tarmac as the snow outside continues to fall silently.
On a somewhat random note, I didn't know it was illegal to take photographs of airports in India. Unfortunate, considering most of my favorite (and rather similar looking) shots are of airports (in other countries) by day, night, sunset, moonrise, you get the gist. On that continued random note, I'll just say that I'll always love airports and the endless stories they hold, each one updated by the minute. They always give me that feeling of going somewhere, somewhere special, somewhere gloriously happy.
Time to lie down and look out through the incredibly large glass windows. Surprise me, London. Show me a color other than gray.
12.something.09. Home.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
A Man And His Jam Are Soon Parted
Darn! Gotta dash. (One might wonder why I logged on if I had to dash off in 3 seconds). More on the man (my dad), his jam (his jam), and airport security later.
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