Link to Part I

Link  to Part II

The people of France carried a gift to the United States weighing 450,000 pounds way back in 1886, and the people of the United States  placed it on an island near the New York harbor as a welcome sight to the wary immigrants sailing in. Fast forward to present times, 2017 summer, Chalk and Cheese were flying into the same city . Chalk does not bother himself with issues of gifts and weights , but Cheese sure does. Both his and her’s suitcases put together did not weigh more than 100 pounds, and in the name of gifts we had a few boxes of sweets and some Indian attires. And yet we had to declare every nothing and their valuation on a detailed form even before we landed . I guess I understand the skepticism, having received such a colossal lady as a gift from the French, the Americans sure have issues with what you carry into their country ! Lady Liberty of course has well settled herself on Liberty Island, welcoming people for more than a  century. We were also welcomed with a  brief glimpse of the statue from mid air ( with oohs and aahs of exclamation from fellow passengers) as our aircraft approached landing.

A cold air gripped me as the first welcome hug in America. It was not the cold of the air conditioning, it was raining in New York City that morning and the weather here was truly ‘as changeable as the weather’ ! My daughter had assured me it would be summer, but Cheese was freezing . I wrapped my arms around myself and tried keeping warm, while Chalk mumbled something about food and vanished. I need coffee, I thought to myself and hoped Chalk would know. But Chalk is no mind reader, he soon reappeared holding only a huge slice of pizza and looking hugely happy. I smiled and wondered whether it was Roman Holiday hangover or was he actually hungry for pizza. Meanwhile our cousin was waiting for Chalk and Cheese at JFK to welcome us to the country he had made home years back. He is a person whose heart and body both have the exact same size ,XXL. And true to his nature he has been the guardian for my daughter in New York City. The first place he drove us to was the University campus right in the heart of Manhattan , where a jumping-with-joy girl was waiting for us on the roadside. Her tiny room in the hostel had been eagerly scrubbed and cleaned for Ma-Baba’s visit, so keen to impress, so keen to show that she had grown up. Too much love, too many emotions, the happiness of meeting daughter after months crumbled Chalk and melted Cheese together.

Having had travelled through different time zones for the past few days (our short trip to Italy ) we both needed some reorientation time ; and there could be no better place to rest than in the warmth of a comfortable home of one’s family in the quiet American suburb. The suburban America impressed me very much , it looked just as I had seen them in the movies and on the television screen. The neighborhoods were jotted with beautiful houses, standing like an abode of peace away from the hustle bustle of the big busy city. Each house looked so perfect, with well groomed front lawns, cherry blossom trees in full bloom, little figurines ornamenting their gardens, endless back yards, a picture postcard landscape. I envied their clean spacious roads, fresh air and an atmosphere of complete serenity . The grass did look greener on this side of the fence . Back home in India we do not have many suburbs looking so pretty and enticing . I could have sat and watched the birds and the squirrels in the garden, the ducks in the pool for days, but travel time demanded that I shake off the slumber and ready myself for the days of travel ahead.

In a whirlwind trip in the next four days Chalk and Cheese were driven across different states of the eastern coast. We went to see The Brakers Mansion at Rhode Island. The drive up to the mansion and the mansion itself looked as though a piece of England had been cut copy pasted by the scenic shores of the Atlantic. The picturesque setting, the riches that the mansion held spoke of opulence of the family that had lived there. The magnificence of life never shines brighter until held in contrast. The stories of the have and have-nots , of social disparities are world over. Standing alone by the sea, I pondered about life, about the reality of inequality, the difference between my own country and these foreign lands I was touring. What charms me about one country, what attracts me to the other can be for very many different reasons. The traveler in me is not biased nor a cynic . If Europe is my favorite book, vintage, romancing my thoughts as I read its history and  get lost in the beauty of the alps, then the United States on the other hand is inviting and exciting. Like a racy novel challenging  adrenaline to keep up with its speed. India, my home, would be my forever favorite bed side book, with its yellowing pages of familiar smell, I would not imagine going to sleep without turning it’s oft read pages every night of my life.

While in America I wanted to see the two famous universities in Boston. Years of conditioning had made me grow up as a person who looks up to seeds of learning with reverential awe, a place which gives wings to ones learning. Therefore I could not have gone back without having walked through the Harvard School campus and MIT’s infinity corridor. My brother who had become my personal genie for those days of holiday, fulfilling all my small and big wishes , immediately made plans for a Boston trip.  The whole experience was so humbling and rewarding at the same time.

In less than a weeks time, we saw amazing places, tasted different cuisines, took photographs, documented memories, but mostly we talked, reminiscing days spent together.  As we drove through the country (with excellent roads and infrastructure) we tried to catch up on years of family time in hours of driving time. Over the strawberry-chocolate-pancake-maple  breakfast we talked, holding hot coffee mugs into late hours of the night we talked, sitting on the rocks by the Atlantic we talked, munching gyro at Quincy market we talked, walking inside infinity corridor feeling like kids we whispered, standing by Hudson Bay we grew sentimental, sitting at the Park Plaza on the goodbye evening sipping tea and biting into melting macaroons our sentimentalities melted too, overlapping childhood into today and today into yesterday and ltomorrow. I got to make friends with my little niece. My wonderful sister in law became a precious sister through those few days of knowing and sharing. Her gracious care and thoughtfulness will long linger in my mind for providing a home away from home to my daughter and us.

Adding Washington to our list of places to visit was a last minute decision. For fools like me, Washington meant two things, the White House and the President of America, and I missed out on seeing both. My capitol connections were not so strong after all. Of course I was not expecting the President to meet me at Union Station and take me to his house,  but when we reached the Capitol of the Capital I nursed a faint hope of seeing if not him, at least one or two senators. Chalk had long mastered the art of ignoring my imaginary ramblings and at such occasions treated me like a complete stranger. Only once I heard him telling me to stop staring for every suited man / woman was not a senator, and could be just an office bearer. Cheese doesn’t feel defeated so easily, so my  search for the President  of America took me to the Lincoln Memorial . Here I clicked photos with the 16 th president of America, Abraham Lincoln. At the Korean War memorial I witnessed a day trip that had been organized  for the war veterans. There were volunteers with each veteran, showing them around the grounds of the memorial, talking to them, laughing with them. I do not have any memory of events so thoughtful and respectful ever being organized in my own country, except for by the armed forces personnels themselves.

The National Mall of Washington is a unique place, it is a vast stretch of green lawns, flanked by monuments, the White House, the Capitol building, the Smithsonian museums on all sides . Talking of museums , Washington is the place where one can spend days going through one museum after another. Museums preserve what would otherwise fade into nonexistence. Ironically enough Washington Irving had once written “History fades into fable; facts become clouded with doubt and controversy; the inscription moulders from the tablet; the statue falls from pedestal. Columns, arches, pyramids, what are they but heaps of sand; and their epitaphs, but characters written in the dust ?” But the city of Washington provides the present generation a bridge to walk to and fro to the days gone by, they preserve history and science wonderfully in their museums. Chalk could have spent an entire day at the Aerospace museum, and quite rightfully so, for he was a sky soldier for the longest period of his uniform days.

Years of regimentation has made Chalk a morning person. And years of non regimentation has made Cheese a night person. This conflict always arises in times of early morning travel plans and the hotel buffet breakfast. Chalk is mostly ready before dawn on such occasions and I barely manage to brush my teeth before getting into my jeans. In all this rush, I leave my night dress hanging behind the bathroom door of a hotel in Washington, and start blaming the universe for this conspiracy . Thus fighting our forever fight over punctuality and discipline ( so like Chalk) vis a vis luxury and spread-out-laziness ( so quintessentially Cheese ) we board another morning flight , destination Dallas. It was time to travel to another state. The call of family was once again strong on the heart strings. An integral part of our journey had been the constant warmth and welcome extended by our families and friends.

I would have imagined Texas as a land of wilderness, with movie star style men and women walking around with guns , but that’s fantasy alone, in reality Dallas was like any other American city. Our family took us to see a world created and preserved ( at Stockyard , Fort worth) to give the tourist a feel of traveling to the old times. The Texan land of Cowboys with bandanas and hats, chasing cattle, roping calves, riding horses , and displaying riding skills, is what we saw at the Dallas Rodeo show. Like India is not about elephants on the road ( cows and dogs, yes ) , snake charmers, and men wearing saffron or nothing, similarly Texas is not like the world of movies we have grown up to. Much to Chalk’s distressed embarrassment Cheese decided to ride a bull. I did it for fun, the gentle bull did not throw me off its back and I got my ‘ riding a bull’ photo moment captured.

Our sister and brother in law’s home was another beautiful house with a loving family. My nephew was the most excited person to have us home. He took his uncle to a baseball game, gifted me precious hand made cards for Mother’s Day. We stayed with them for the longest time in this trip, doing simple family things together which brought pleasures unlimited.  They are all busy professionals, yet when they make time to spend days with you it means a lot. My sister and I had grown up together sharing youth, sharing dresses, books, stories, secrets, and sharing a large portion of each other’s life . At some point life took different roads for both of us, and the years settled in comfortably between us. And then again this opportunity to knock each others door and to rediscover that deep within none of us have changed much. The joys of childhood revisited returns, the country doesn’t matter, the city doesn’t matter, the people matter and an everlasting bond of relationship matter. Like old wine the flavor of life only gets better as we mature.

Back in New York City a son and daughter were waiting eagerly for our return. The graduation day of my daughter was in two days and it was our turn to say goodbye to Dallas and family . At New York’s La Guardia airport Chalk and Cheese were again together with their children. The daughter took charge like a captain, and announced that this time around she would show us the New York City in her style. No more fancy cars, luxurious homes, home cooked food, and high end restaurants. I was more than eager to begin this new adventure. Thus the second phase of America Darshan started, as we stood in queue to take a bus ride on route M 60 from the airport to downtown Manhattan. A few more days of holiday remain, a graduation ceremony to attend, a visit to my favorite nephew in Florida, a beach calling to gather stories from the sea shells, a last chapter to tell before the journey journal takes Chalk and Cheese back to Indian terrain.