It was 16th of November 2010.
I had slept at 5:30 AM after arranging a series of documents in files with neatly written labels to have it easy later that day. Having put my papers at work and booked the tickets already, I was a tad nervous.
Got up at about 8 AM for a 10 AM interview some 12 KMs from my place. Dressed up formally, I gulped a glass of milk to satiate my ever so growing apetite and left the place with a friend (who by the way had a sprain on her leg, relevant to the story later :) ). As soon as we came down, we had this divine realization that we are late. The auto fellas didn't pick up the phone (yeah, I do call them up, courtesy the great transportation system of Hyderabad) and so we were forced to walk down till the main gate of the township from where we could catch an autorickshaw. It was 9:15 by the time we reached there and my nervousness was increasing every passing minute. An autorickshaw agreed to drop us at one and a half times the actual fare seeing the urgency on our faces and I almost agreed. And then he says, 'nahin jaunga madam' (I will not go, Madam). Frustrated already, my friend led the way crossing the street and I followed.
Twist in the story, a bike from right, another from left and poor me in between. I saw the shock on my friend's face first, the hazy outline of the bikes later, felt the dizziness next and had my hands clutching my moth tightly eventually. It was then that I realized the sentence I had read so many times in numerous books, 'I felt the warmth and tasted the saltiness and realised that something is trickling down my mouth.'
Although all the swear words on the tip of my tongue, I just moved on. Reasons?
1) I was in a hurry folks, thats what I have been telling you since the beginning of the post.
2) I couldn't dare to open my mouth.
I crossed the road and stopped at the place where my friend was still haggling with another auto wala, my hand still held firmly at my cheek. An auto finally agreed to go to the consulate at more than twice the actual meter rate, seeing a bleeding mouth and urgent expressions.
We finally sat down and I removed my hand. That was when I understood my friend's shock. My plam was completely covered but for my fingers with the red hot liquid drying superfast. I took a tissue and starting dabbing away the dried blood at the corner of my mouth. Some five minutes later I tried to check if I could speak. The first statement was, 'what's the time?'
Glancing at the watch on one hand and trying to move my lips on the other, I lost the track of location.
I was running late for my VISA interview with the US consulate.
There was a huge traffic jam till where my eyes could scan.
I had a distorted face stained at corner.
I was hardly able to open my mouth and speak.
Wow, what a day!
And to top it all, our auto rickshaw driver threw the googly, 'Madam, I don't know the way!'
Thankfully, we had checked the route on google maps the day before.
I reached the consulate (after consulting 3 cops and 2 other people on the way) at 10:15 AM
Beyond a certain point, you had to walk down. I took my docs and left my friend to deal with the auto and rest of the stuff. Poor thing, with a broken leg and broken friend in front of the US consulate!
Anyways, there were some 8 people in front of me in the queue to enter the consulate. I requested a few to let me go ahead as my scheduled time was already past. I ran in, got my documents checked, had my fingerprints taken and sat in the waiting hall for my turn. Finally the call - C130.. 4 questions -
1) Any backlogs?
2) Undergrad percentage?
3) Which Universities dod you apply to?
4) Why Carnegie?
That's it. Visa approved, back to the bus stop, to my waiting friend with broken leg.
ah, my fateful encounter with F1!
I had slept at 5:30 AM after arranging a series of documents in files with neatly written labels to have it easy later that day. Having put my papers at work and booked the tickets already, I was a tad nervous.
Got up at about 8 AM for a 10 AM interview some 12 KMs from my place. Dressed up formally, I gulped a glass of milk to satiate my ever so growing apetite and left the place with a friend (who by the way had a sprain on her leg, relevant to the story later :) ). As soon as we came down, we had this divine realization that we are late. The auto fellas didn't pick up the phone (yeah, I do call them up, courtesy the great transportation system of Hyderabad) and so we were forced to walk down till the main gate of the township from where we could catch an autorickshaw. It was 9:15 by the time we reached there and my nervousness was increasing every passing minute. An autorickshaw agreed to drop us at one and a half times the actual fare seeing the urgency on our faces and I almost agreed. And then he says, 'nahin jaunga madam' (I will not go, Madam). Frustrated already, my friend led the way crossing the street and I followed.
Twist in the story, a bike from right, another from left and poor me in between. I saw the shock on my friend's face first, the hazy outline of the bikes later, felt the dizziness next and had my hands clutching my moth tightly eventually. It was then that I realized the sentence I had read so many times in numerous books, 'I felt the warmth and tasted the saltiness and realised that something is trickling down my mouth.'
Although all the swear words on the tip of my tongue, I just moved on. Reasons?
1) I was in a hurry folks, thats what I have been telling you since the beginning of the post.
2) I couldn't dare to open my mouth.
I crossed the road and stopped at the place where my friend was still haggling with another auto wala, my hand still held firmly at my cheek. An auto finally agreed to go to the consulate at more than twice the actual meter rate, seeing a bleeding mouth and urgent expressions.
We finally sat down and I removed my hand. That was when I understood my friend's shock. My plam was completely covered but for my fingers with the red hot liquid drying superfast. I took a tissue and starting dabbing away the dried blood at the corner of my mouth. Some five minutes later I tried to check if I could speak. The first statement was, 'what's the time?'
Glancing at the watch on one hand and trying to move my lips on the other, I lost the track of location.
I was running late for my VISA interview with the US consulate.
There was a huge traffic jam till where my eyes could scan.
I had a distorted face stained at corner.
I was hardly able to open my mouth and speak.
Wow, what a day!
And to top it all, our auto rickshaw driver threw the googly, 'Madam, I don't know the way!'
Thankfully, we had checked the route on google maps the day before.
I reached the consulate (after consulting 3 cops and 2 other people on the way) at 10:15 AM
Beyond a certain point, you had to walk down. I took my docs and left my friend to deal with the auto and rest of the stuff. Poor thing, with a broken leg and broken friend in front of the US consulate!
Anyways, there were some 8 people in front of me in the queue to enter the consulate. I requested a few to let me go ahead as my scheduled time was already past. I ran in, got my documents checked, had my fingerprints taken and sat in the waiting hall for my turn. Finally the call - C130.. 4 questions -
1) Any backlogs?
2) Undergrad percentage?
3) Which Universities dod you apply to?
4) Why Carnegie?
That's it. Visa approved, back to the bus stop, to my waiting friend with broken leg.
ah, my fateful encounter with F1!
