26 sep 2005
A frail looking Benagli Indian girl - brown skin, black eyes, black flowing straight silky hair, stepped outside Heathrow. Trying to drag a heavy suitcase of 53 kgs, overwhelmed by the sight of the the country which had ruled her country only a 50 years ago, looks kinda old and honestly not atall pretty or developed for that matter.
She had a prinout of instructions from her bro in a short email - "there is a green line, then on the right - a bus service called the Oxford Tube. Make sure you buy a 18 GBP return instead of a 12 GBP single journey. Believe it or not you will need to come to heathrow. Make sure you show your student visa and get a student discount."
She tries to look around for help but no one is in sight. No one came to welcome her. she had heard how in the US, the universities send their India Club representatives to welcome the newbies. Hold on...there was this old lady who seemed to be one of the airport staff cleaners...Tanu decides to ask her for help. 'Excuse me, I'm looking for a bus to oxford'...she gives a frown and goes away...she looks around and somehow there isn't a single soul around...
Sigh. What am i doing here, she asks herself...she needs to remind her that she came here as a Felix scholar to study at Oxford, get a job in UK, spend two years until her sweetheart in India finishes his MBA and is ready to get married....but is it really worth it? so what if it is Oxford? I never dreamt of going to Oxford...i only wanted to get married to the love of my life...this place is so daunting and so cold and everyone seems to be mean...she almost turns her back to catch the return flight to India,
She notices the green line her bro had written about...n she spots a telephone booth
ok it is red in color like the ones in india...and it takes a 2 pound coin for a 60 sec international call ! thats bloody 160 rupees ! I could eat 20 vada paws with that money ! she dials home...the number doesnt reach...the number was right but there was some combination of * and # that needed to be figured out...she felt like crying...tried three times and she cant reach her sweetheart or her mom or her bro (who btw is an Oxonian and is in India right now)...she bangs the phone booth and kicks it and sees someone approach..."oops better be careful..its not my country...i can't perhaps bang the phone booth here"....she ducks and the passerby goes away...after 5 tries she figures it out and calls her mum and cries on the phone..."i dont want to be here..i want to come home immediately...this is a horrible horrible place...and i don't even understand the accents...this is not bbc accent....they are mean...no one gives directions...people are not helpful, they just pass by, they just"....beep beep beepp....60 sec gone ? ooo what shall i do? knock knock...."i need to make a call please if you are done, says a curt voice"...she steps out in teary eyes and just takes a break for a minute or two...
Zoom goes a bus that says oxford tube on it....oooo thats the bus....but the bus doesn't stop when she waives her hand....she watches it go a few 100 meters ahead where the road bends...may be that's where the stop is...53 kgs being pulled by a 48 kg girl is quiet a task....she remembers all the ants and takes inspiration from them while dragging herself to the counter....huffing and puffing she asks for the 18 pound ticket and asks where can she board it...there is a long queue...and the driver seems to be in a huge hurry...its a huge volvo bus, a mammoth she has never seen before (honestly there were buses of that kind in India but she only used the trains, never the inter city buses)...it makes a huge huffing sound when the door opens and the luggage compartment opens...the belly of the bus consists of the luggage...and you have to pre-decide what luggage goes in and what goes with you...thanks to the airport regulations, her allergy puff is in the main luggage and she has to take it out while the driver and the passengers get super pissed off...she asks everyone to continue and she would board in the end but they seem to be ever so pissed off....people are mean in this country....they can so easily be pissed off...she sorts things out and boards in the end....
the ride starts with a fancy announcement she can't understand...he said something about a toilet in the bus..wow that's interesting....and that one must wear seat belts...she wonders why and laughs to herself....oh these firangs..they make such a fuss about everything....soon the bus starts with a jolt,..she remembers her horse riding classes way back in the army camp (her dad's from the forces)...and the bus takes sharp turns at god knows what speed ! she now understands why one needs seat belts ! its actually a roller coaster ride...by her side is this old gentleman...she tries to be friendly and asks who he was...turns out to be a prof from some university in Germany and has come to the computer science department for a talk...she is thrilled...oh we are from the same department..he doesn't seem to be very excited , not sure why...she tries to do some small talk but he prefers to keep to his readings...
the scenery outside is pretty and interesting...manicured lawns miles after miles...somewhere a milestone says some meadows...aah that's what a meadow is...now now don't take me as a rustic girl coming from a village but honestly i had only read about these things...but even though it is all so beautiful, she feels so lonely and empty and wondering all over again what is she doing in this bloody country...
meanwhile she decides to check out the bus toilet...there is good news and there is bad news...the good news is that it is super cool to have a toilet in a bus ! the bad news is that it is as unclean as one would find in India...and they say they are developed country....
she decides to go back to the email from her bro...the bus station is called glauster green...what kind of a name is that ! sounds like a green coloured elf to me honestly...and there is some street called cowly where you can find the indian groceries...COWly in OXford...she was quite wondering where is the bull or the buffallo....and the name of the college is wadham...dad pronouces as waaa - dhaaaam as it it fell dhaam se kahi se....
the bus announces its arrival and the driver again seems to be in super hurry...puts my luggage out and expects me to tow 53 kgs by myself...ofcourse there are no coolies here but still someone can offer a little help...the cab stand is a good 50 meters away and there is one heavy bag with one heavy suitcase and one small suitcase....damn i was certainly not well prepared for it...the driver actually yells at me...move u r in a danger zone..."how do i move? can u help me? i am not a porter....i can pay u...he gets even more pissed off...can't you help a little bit? may b you can call the cab here?" "cabs are not allowed here"..."then how do i reach the cab?" well take what u can and leave the rest..."is this your british hospitality towards a foriegn student "! his supervisor yells at him...he decides to show some mercy and take one of my bags to the cabby...
he says with pride..."u r lucky it is a black cab"..."ok...so?" "you don't know about the famous black cabs of london and england?" "no"...."what kind of an ignorant third world foreigner are you?" his supervisor yells again...he rushes back...
unfortunately the cabby is not a punjabi ...he is a pakistani...m meeting a pakistani for the first time...being a defense officers daughter i reserve the right to be suspicious about them....m dead scared of pakistanies...and his eyes don't seem to be good...doesn't look descent...will he kidnap me? :O i ask him how much will it cost....and i tell him that he better not cheat me coz i know that it should not cost more than 4 pounds...he says this is not India...and says pay by the meter...i argue asking how do i know he won't take the long route? he says you don;t really have a choice...either take it or leave it...i say "imaandari se chaloge toh inshallah chalenge"...he seems to get influenced and assures me...and address me as sister...he still looks pretty sinister...he takes me to wadham and it costs 6 pounds and i yell at him for cheating me...he swears by all his gods that he did not cheat...meanwhile the porter from the college comes and asks him to leave since he can't park to argue...i have to give him those 6 pounds = 480 rupees for a 1 km taxi ride :( !! it puts me to tears...
i turn back and see this fortress made out of sandstone...with large iron doors and a little iron door within it...tall walls that no one can cross...i enter and a huge courtyard, they have a fancy name for it they call it a quad...on the right is what looks like a reception...there is this old tough and mean looking guy who had earlier yelled at the driver...he seems to be in a horrible mood...i ask him if i can make a phone call...he gives me the direction to a pay phone outside the fortress...i leave and he yells....you can't leave your luggage behind...thats against the rules...oh sorry...where shud i keep them? can i keep it in the reception...he reluctantly agrees but only for a little while...
She had a prinout of instructions from her bro in a short email - "there is a green line, then on the right - a bus service called the Oxford Tube. Make sure you buy a 18 GBP return instead of a 12 GBP single journey. Believe it or not you will need to come to heathrow. Make sure you show your student visa and get a student discount."
She tries to look around for help but no one is in sight. No one came to welcome her. she had heard how in the US, the universities send their India Club representatives to welcome the newbies. Hold on...there was this old lady who seemed to be one of the airport staff cleaners...Tanu decides to ask her for help. 'Excuse me, I'm looking for a bus to oxford'...she gives a frown and goes away...she looks around and somehow there isn't a single soul around...
Sigh. What am i doing here, she asks herself...she needs to remind her that she came here as a Felix scholar to study at Oxford, get a job in UK, spend two years until her sweetheart in India finishes his MBA and is ready to get married....but is it really worth it? so what if it is Oxford? I never dreamt of going to Oxford...i only wanted to get married to the love of my life...this place is so daunting and so cold and everyone seems to be mean...she almost turns her back to catch the return flight to India,
She notices the green line her bro had written about...n she spots a telephone booth
ok it is red in color like the ones in india...and it takes a 2 pound coin for a 60 sec international call ! thats bloody 160 rupees ! I could eat 20 vada paws with that money ! she dials home...the number doesnt reach...the number was right but there was some combination of * and # that needed to be figured out...she felt like crying...tried three times and she cant reach her sweetheart or her mom or her bro (who btw is an Oxonian and is in India right now)...she bangs the phone booth and kicks it and sees someone approach..."oops better be careful..its not my country...i can't perhaps bang the phone booth here"....she ducks and the passerby goes away...after 5 tries she figures it out and calls her mum and cries on the phone..."i dont want to be here..i want to come home immediately...this is a horrible horrible place...and i don't even understand the accents...this is not bbc accent....they are mean...no one gives directions...people are not helpful, they just pass by, they just"....beep beep beepp....60 sec gone ? ooo what shall i do? knock knock...."i need to make a call please if you are done, says a curt voice"...she steps out in teary eyes and just takes a break for a minute or two...
Zoom goes a bus that says oxford tube on it....oooo thats the bus....but the bus doesn't stop when she waives her hand....she watches it go a few 100 meters ahead where the road bends...may be that's where the stop is...53 kgs being pulled by a 48 kg girl is quiet a task....she remembers all the ants and takes inspiration from them while dragging herself to the counter....huffing and puffing she asks for the 18 pound ticket and asks where can she board it...there is a long queue...and the driver seems to be in a huge hurry...its a huge volvo bus, a mammoth she has never seen before (honestly there were buses of that kind in India but she only used the trains, never the inter city buses)...it makes a huge huffing sound when the door opens and the luggage compartment opens...the belly of the bus consists of the luggage...and you have to pre-decide what luggage goes in and what goes with you...thanks to the airport regulations, her allergy puff is in the main luggage and she has to take it out while the driver and the passengers get super pissed off...she asks everyone to continue and she would board in the end but they seem to be ever so pissed off....people are mean in this country....they can so easily be pissed off...she sorts things out and boards in the end....
the ride starts with a fancy announcement she can't understand...he said something about a toilet in the bus..wow that's interesting....and that one must wear seat belts...she wonders why and laughs to herself....oh these firangs..they make such a fuss about everything....soon the bus starts with a jolt,..she remembers her horse riding classes way back in the army camp (her dad's from the forces)...and the bus takes sharp turns at god knows what speed ! she now understands why one needs seat belts ! its actually a roller coaster ride...by her side is this old gentleman...she tries to be friendly and asks who he was...turns out to be a prof from some university in Germany and has come to the computer science department for a talk...she is thrilled...oh we are from the same department..he doesn't seem to be very excited , not sure why...she tries to do some small talk but he prefers to keep to his readings...
the scenery outside is pretty and interesting...manicured lawns miles after miles...somewhere a milestone says some meadows...aah that's what a meadow is...now now don't take me as a rustic girl coming from a village but honestly i had only read about these things...but even though it is all so beautiful, she feels so lonely and empty and wondering all over again what is she doing in this bloody country...
meanwhile she decides to check out the bus toilet...there is good news and there is bad news...the good news is that it is super cool to have a toilet in a bus ! the bad news is that it is as unclean as one would find in India...and they say they are developed country....
she decides to go back to the email from her bro...the bus station is called glauster green...what kind of a name is that ! sounds like a green coloured elf to me honestly...and there is some street called cowly where you can find the indian groceries...COWly in OXford...she was quite wondering where is the bull or the buffallo....and the name of the college is wadham...dad pronouces as waaa - dhaaaam as it it fell dhaam se kahi se....
the bus announces its arrival and the driver again seems to be in super hurry...puts my luggage out and expects me to tow 53 kgs by myself...ofcourse there are no coolies here but still someone can offer a little help...the cab stand is a good 50 meters away and there is one heavy bag with one heavy suitcase and one small suitcase....damn i was certainly not well prepared for it...the driver actually yells at me...move u r in a danger zone..."how do i move? can u help me? i am not a porter....i can pay u...he gets even more pissed off...can't you help a little bit? may b you can call the cab here?" "cabs are not allowed here"..."then how do i reach the cab?" well take what u can and leave the rest..."is this your british hospitality towards a foriegn student "! his supervisor yells at him...he decides to show some mercy and take one of my bags to the cabby...
he says with pride..."u r lucky it is a black cab"..."ok...so?" "you don't know about the famous black cabs of london and england?" "no"...."what kind of an ignorant third world foreigner are you?" his supervisor yells again...he rushes back...
unfortunately the cabby is not a punjabi ...he is a pakistani...m meeting a pakistani for the first time...being a defense officers daughter i reserve the right to be suspicious about them....m dead scared of pakistanies...and his eyes don't seem to be good...doesn't look descent...will he kidnap me? :O i ask him how much will it cost....and i tell him that he better not cheat me coz i know that it should not cost more than 4 pounds...he says this is not India...and says pay by the meter...i argue asking how do i know he won't take the long route? he says you don;t really have a choice...either take it or leave it...i say "imaandari se chaloge toh inshallah chalenge"...he seems to get influenced and assures me...and address me as sister...he still looks pretty sinister...he takes me to wadham and it costs 6 pounds and i yell at him for cheating me...he swears by all his gods that he did not cheat...meanwhile the porter from the college comes and asks him to leave since he can't park to argue...i have to give him those 6 pounds = 480 rupees for a 1 km taxi ride :( !! it puts me to tears...
i turn back and see this fortress made out of sandstone...with large iron doors and a little iron door within it...tall walls that no one can cross...i enter and a huge courtyard, they have a fancy name for it they call it a quad...on the right is what looks like a reception...there is this old tough and mean looking guy who had earlier yelled at the driver...he seems to be in a horrible mood...i ask him if i can make a phone call...he gives me the direction to a pay phone outside the fortress...i leave and he yells....you can't leave your luggage behind...thats against the rules...oh sorry...where shud i keep them? can i keep it in the reception...he reluctantly agrees but only for a little while...
Great great great great.............great.......i loved it......i am sure it will be a booker prize winner..........loved it ............please continue it............
ReplyDeleteYaar the best part is i am getting the feeling of being in Oxford sitting here.........and the way you relate things from India......it makes grounded and lovely to read........
ReplyDeleteVery nice Tanu. Honest and observant. You may have a writer in you. Couldn't stop reading. :-)
ReplyDeleteEach step reminded me of my own trip to Oxford - the green line at Heathrow, the Oxford Express, Gloucester Green (which I absolutely fell in love with), imposing "Quads" of various colleges, the 2KM cab ride costing 10 pounds :-)
How about another post telling about when you departed oxford?
Oh and keep it up - keep posting. Howz the fever, btw?
aaw thanks so much for the kind words and encouragement...i intend to write a few novels based on different parts of my life...m writing things chapter wise and the chapters would be random as of now...for instance i know that i will soon write about the first love of my life - bholu - my sweetheart **** ()() and about how i discovered Sandy !!!
ReplyDeleteTanu,
ReplyDeleteI am looking forward all the details of your time in Oxford, of which along with others, I was a part of.... Keep up the blog, it brings back memories...