The Giant Leap

Having landed in a country so unknown and on the crossroads to the entrée of a new life, things seemed so uncanny. The distant sound of the BMW sports, the mist, small tint of smell of the cigar, that petite glimpse of Aston Martin, all that had made me nostalgic of the childhood times when I was so fascinated with the Bond Movies. These were the thoughts pondering while I was on my way out of the Brussel’s International Airport. Almost in a dilemma, if to be happy about my achievements or sad because of the people I left back. All this was apparently adding to the predominant eerie feeling I had been having since I boarded the flight.

Everything around seemed so organized and planned, and in a way or two I was not liking it or rather should say I was missing the huge lot of auto wala’s and taxi wala’s shouting at the top of their voices “bhaiya taxi chahiye kya?”.No matter u say “no” to their entire group but the optimism in them to ask just one more time, was what I was lay mislaid.

The ride to the flat at Mechelen was remarkable, after all I was in a chauffeur driven Mercedes ‘C’ class for the first time J.The fields and the lighthouses and the boomerang traffic. The chauffeur was pretty amazed to know that I had come here to work, was tuff to convince him that though I looked young, had been working since some time and that I was NOT a student (I can already see the grin on someone’s face J).God knows when would i grow up ;).

People usually ask me the difference I see between Belgium and India. The first thing that strikes me here is the pedestrians here get the preference while walking on roads. You can walk the zebra crossing without seeing left or right because the approaching vehicle will stop, pass a smile and wait for you to cross. So “Koi fark toh nai pardta hai bhai” :D. Had I done something like this in India, I would have writing this post from Heaven ;). Truly speaking, since some time I have had a habit to pick and choose the car that should stop and wait for me to cross the road. My personal favorite being a Bently :P.

Next to it, people here are very friendly. They would wish you a good day, a “take care” message, no matter if they do not know you and no matter u meet them in the lift or the way out or in office or some shopping area or at the parking. Hardly does it matter if the other person looks good or for that matter if you look good or not. This is something I appreciate a lot of the people here. Talking to some stranger is generally not the tone back in India, and it’s your bad luck if that stranger is a girl because then u have committed a grave sin which would either result in an ignorant response or a weird look that emphasizes the fact that you are trying to flirt.

I still remember the day during my initial training days at Mysore, when I passed on a smile and a “hi” to the girl who was the only other co-passenger in the golf cart while travelling in the Infy campus. Much to my surprise, she asked me if I was contemplating to “Line Maro” her by passing on the smile. I was dumbstruck. Infact had to recollect, if I had done something weird by passing on a smile. In the end all I could say to her was, if you think passing on a smile alongside a hi is termed as “Line Maaring” then yes I am trying Line Maaro you. Please go ahead and lodge an ASHI (an infy term , referred to as Anti Sexual Harassment Initiative) complaint against me. Thankfully, she didn’t lodge one. :P.

Apart from all this, the best delicacy here is the chicken scotel.Not because it tastes good, but because the Paki owner has a smile which evidently shows how happy he is to serve us.Infact, every time i call him and visit his food joint, he asks his chef to go out as he will prepare the scotel for us. At times,it becomes hard to believe is the entire pakistan the same ? or i have just met a good man.

Nonetheless and jokes apart, this is turning out to be a huge learning experience in all terms and I hope it turns out to be one. Probably then I would at least be considered matured rather than a happy-go-lucky “joker”.

Hindi hai Hum, watan hai Hindustaan Hamara :) :) :)