When I lived in Dubai as a child, we’d visit India once a year and dreaded coming through the airport. When we got off the plane this time, I was mentally prepared to fight my way through huge crowds, of people with cardboard signs up, and chaos all over the place. I was relieved to see everything inside was rather calm. There weren’t any aggressive taxi drivers forcing us to haggle with their already high prices, or elbows being thrown in our faces just to get to baggage claim. There was even a sign for a pre-paid taxi stand. If it’s legit, that is a pretty major step towards a nicer way of entering India, instead of immediately clenching your fists the second you land. The chairs have also gotten much nicer than the way I remember them. Sona’s maternal uncle – Munna Mamaji, hadn’t arrived yet, so quite anti-climactically, we sat on these very cushy chairs, our luggage piled onto a trolley next to us, until we saw him waltz inside, wave his arms around a bit, then come towards us and give us a hug. Then off to Patel Nagar we went.
I was born in England and raised all over the world, but I'm a Punjabi boy at heart. Give me a bread pakora and a mango lassi and we'll be friends for life. I teach creative writing in New York City and blog about race/representation, travel, lit life, and being a Papa at NavdeepSinghDhillon.com. I am a regular parenting blogger for Mom.me, and have written for many print and online publications. In my spare time, I Papa and I husband. Follow my tweets @navdeep_dhillon and @ishqinabackpack.