PAGES FROM NEW JERSEY
SUNDAY, 17 MAY 2015-
The AI 191 lands at 7.26 AM at Newark International Airport, US. How enormous and deserted it looks in comparison to that small and noisy Jai Prakash Narayan Airport of Patna. Everything seems so disciplined and quiet. After going through the immigration check and collection of the baggage, I finally make my exit through the arrival gate. Yasmin, cheerful and bright as usual, receives me, hires a cab and off we go through the wide roads and fly overs with vehicles whizzing past in different lanes. A half an hour so ride brings us to Hunters Glen, Plainsboro. There is nothing messy here. The neat row of centrally heated/air-conditioned houses with wooden stairs, carpeted floor, long french window opening onto a small terrace round the David Morrison Park is something very pleasant to behold at.
There had been a storm followed by heavy rain yesterday night. So, the ground looks wet, covered with autumnal shed leaves and dry winged seeds of fruits of Sycamore Maple trees but nowhere is there any sign of mud. The terrace is covered with them. They look like the monster sized wings of flies that infest the houses at the time of Diwali in India.
The sky is clear, the sun bright and the evening warm. We take a walk to the nearby local Chinese super market, buy fish and vegetables.
While crossing the road, I learn the traffic signal for pedestrians. People, unlike Patnaities, are very law-abiding. The laws are very stringent over here and there is always that one eyed Law-God to tame the rule-breakers. Vehicles are more in number than the population yet pollution seems an alien word for the dictionary of environment here.
The evening is good. Priyanka, Yasmin's colleague has come over to our place for dinner. We go to see her off to her place. The night is cool and mellow.
...to be continued
SUNDAY, 17 MAY 2015-
The AI 191 lands at 7.26 AM at Newark International Airport, US. How enormous and deserted it looks in comparison to that small and noisy Jai Prakash Narayan Airport of Patna. Everything seems so disciplined and quiet. After going through the immigration check and collection of the baggage, I finally make my exit through the arrival gate. Yasmin, cheerful and bright as usual, receives me, hires a cab and off we go through the wide roads and fly overs with vehicles whizzing past in different lanes. A half an hour so ride brings us to Hunters Glen, Plainsboro. There is nothing messy here. The neat row of centrally heated/air-conditioned houses with wooden stairs, carpeted floor, long french window opening onto a small terrace round the David Morrison Park is something very pleasant to behold at.
There had been a storm followed by heavy rain yesterday night. So, the ground looks wet, covered with autumnal shed leaves and dry winged seeds of fruits of Sycamore Maple trees but nowhere is there any sign of mud. The terrace is covered with them. They look like the monster sized wings of flies that infest the houses at the time of Diwali in India.
The sky is clear, the sun bright and the evening warm. We take a walk to the nearby local Chinese super market, buy fish and vegetables.
While crossing the road, I learn the traffic signal for pedestrians. People, unlike Patnaities, are very law-abiding. The laws are very stringent over here and there is always that one eyed Law-God to tame the rule-breakers. Vehicles are more in number than the population yet pollution seems an alien word for the dictionary of environment here.
The evening is good. Priyanka, Yasmin's colleague has come over to our place for dinner. We go to see her off to her place. The night is cool and mellow.
...to be continued
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