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.
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