India: First Impressions

It started just as the plane hit the tarmac in Kolkata, before we parked at the gate. Mobile phones started ringing, polyphonic tones of all sorts buzzing from each corner of the plane. Despite repeated announcements from the crew to keep all mobile devices off till the plane came to a complete stop.

Looking out the window, the smogginess of pollution that descends upon the city was unmistakable.  

Getting through immigration was a breeze, not least because the officer scanning all incoming hand baggage was busy talking on the phone rather than paying attention to the screening.

I lost my customs declaration slip (which was a very little flimsy slip that was torn off the immigration arrival form) before I got to the exit .  After some sad looks and hapless protestations, the customs officer brought me to the side table, rummaged through some older slips and took out someone else’s slip that wasn’t filled completely, scratched out the signature on it and then asked me to fill it in. No passport number, nothing.

Calcutta reminds me of Indonesia en route to the hotel – the chaos outside the airport, haphazard parking and reckless pedestrians crossing at will, long stretches of pot-holed roads across barren land, with the occasional cement castle of an edifice rising from the ground every now and then.

Tomorrow the adventure begins.

Welcome to India.