So I compiled this little list of differences that you notice only because you live in another country and haven’t visited your own for almost a year. I make it a habit to visit India every summer, for at least a month and half. I’ve done it for eight years now, and these are things that hit me on even the very first day – both positive and negative.
You know you’re in Bangalore when:
all announcements in the aircraft are repeated in Hindi.
as soon as the plane has landed on the runway, mobile phones are whipped out and switched on, even though the plane hasn’t come to a complete stop.
there is no trolley available for your cabin baggage. If it’s heavy, too bad. I learnt that the hard way as I walked the 232,343 miles till immigration carrying three bags.
Indian passport holders are let through with barely a murmur while foreigners are ordered to provide their boarding passes at immigration as proof of their legal travel.
nobody waits in line.
you just have to point to your luggage at the baggage claim and three porters will run and get it for you.
the minute you step out of the airport, a blast of cool breeze hits you, blowing your hair back and automatically making you smile and breathe it all in.
the breeze doesn’t stop, ever.
passers-by stare at you, look at you up and down, look at your luggage, and form an opinion about you as you’re greeting your family.
you pay extra for small things like parking just because you smile and say thank you, which leads them to consider you as a non-Indian.
you hear car horns, auto horns, and bicycle bells ringing non-stop out on the road before you even get into your car.
people spend less time concentrating on their driving and more time yelling at other drivers.
nobody sticks to their lanes while driving. Hell, most of the time there are no lanes.
But all these things make you realize that finally, you are HOME. And after all, home is where the love is.