I got my laptop today and I thought the first use of this
implement is, after checking mails and letting my office know that I’m open for
business, to pen down my new series of blogs on London life. I always had this
dream that my blogs which are hardly read by anyone today, would one day be
considered the pinnacle of literature and be published. Maybe pinnacle of
literature is a bit too much (but given that Chetan Bhagat’s writings are
considered awesome, I don’t see why mine might not be viewed as such) but
published – oh yes…. Definitely they would be published and I would make tons
of money in royalty and book rights and movie rights………. You get the drift,
right. So if you wanted some sane reading, this is where you stop and find
yourself maybe a Chetan Bhagat novel. But if you are one with a brave heart,
then march on my friend…
I made the decision to look for employment abroad sometime
in the mid of 2013. Considering that I actually didn’t get any calls from
employment agencies or companies outside (not that I didn’t try), I decided to
ask my employer if they would give me a chance. It did come as a surprise when
they didn’t laugh their heads off at my request. After a couple of weeks of
swinging between 2 continents, they decided that I shall keep the Queen
company. Then started a whole bureaucratic process of getting approvals of
everyone in the company – it almost seemed as if they would also need to speak
to the Queen as to whether she would actually fancy my presence in her country.
So after jumping through as many hoops as a circus lion would have to on a good
day, my bosses (bless their souls for not giving up on this noble mission) let
me know that I am good to go. This whole process took almost 3 months. The visa
process was surprisingly quick - just four weeks end to end and before you knew
it, I had my passport with a work visa stamped on it. Now there was no excuse
to linger on. So a couple of days after I got my passport I was packed and
ready to board a plane to relocate to London. I have always felt some bit of
emotion when I left the country longish periods, especially after my daughter
came along. This time though was different. It would be by far the longest
period I would have stayed away from my daughter, it was a difficult state in
which I left my parents – they had their own struggles and I added to their
burden by having them take care of my kid, but for some reason, I didn’t cry
this time around. Maybe a couple of tears when I kissed my daughter good bye in
her sleep, but that was it. No thinking of it in the airport or on flight. I
was genuinely looking forward to my new life… It was a new chapter and I was
determined to enjoy it to the fullest.
So then, after I landed, I needed to get to Ilford, for that
is where my company provided serviced apartments were. It cost me 110 quid to
get here… so within a couple of hours of landing in UK, I had spent ~13% of the
total money that I had on me. It was a drive that lasted nearly 2 hours in
which time I had great company in form of Mr. Ahmed Munir, a very knowledgeable
gentleman who gave me great tips on life in UK. He also told me that the drive
wouldn’t have cost me more than £60 if I would have booked directly – great
start to life in the UK. The apartment building for some reason didn’t have parking
in front of it and so we were forced to park some distance away and there I was
lugging away my suitcases and crossing 3 signals in whistling wind to get to
the building. The apartment was well – for the lack of a better vocabulary
spectacular – the views from the 22nd floor were breathtaking.. it
was like one of those full length posters with the bright lights of New York or London skylines that people have
on their walls except that in my case it was real. Sitting on the sofa looking
out the floor to ceiling windows, I wished I drank alcohol; it seemed like the
perfect moment to open the bubbly.
First visit to Sainsbury to get the essentials and I was
disappointed – wonderful looking bananas, the only fruit that I actually enjoy,
bought at £1.69, were rotten before I got them home. First day to office and I
was disappointed, I was told I wouldn’t get a laptop for a week. So I went
house hunting the next day – saw 7 houses in a day… didn’t remember one from
another by the end but it was a good experience. I really didn’t see the point
of seeing more houses, getting confused with more choices, so I put an offer on
3 houses. Now that offers were out, I needed to figure out a way to get some
money to pay for set-up. The company recommended HSBC, they said they didn’t
have an appointment till around 10 days later – an appointment to open a new
bank account – and they wonder why their economy is not growing fast enough. I
walk over to Natwest and they spend half an hour taking down my details only to
tell me at the end of it that I would have to wait for a week before I got my
account number. It was as if I had communicated the urgency of my situation to
them in Malayalam and it got lost in translation. So I crossed the road and
walked over to Lloyds. Now there is something to be said if a pure Brit bank
actually steps on the gas and gets you an account in half an hour flat. So I
walked back to office, a proud account holder of Lloyds Bank and was told by my
HR team that I would actually get paid my salary in November. That was
unexpected – good news. My offer was accepted after a bit of bargaining and to
be honest, I was not sure if I was happy or not about it. The truth of the
matter was I didn’t remember anything of the property, except it was supposed to
have a small private garden out back. Now that I had a house, I decided to buy
some basic furniture. So a visit to Ikea was warranted. It scared the living
daylights out of me. Why would anyone want to go there and buy anything is
beyond me – it looked like so much hard work. I missed India for the first
time. So online shopping it was – before I discovered that my Indian credit
card wouldn’t work on the website for some reason. So here I was stuck in
London, one of the most expensive cities in the world, with my ever depleting
stash of hard cash which I converted when I entered the country and no access
to my own hard earned money. No credit card, no debit card and delays in
getting money from India.. for the first time in more than a decade I was at a stage that I may
have to borrow money from someone… the mere thought of that was sickening.
Borrowing from parents was ok, but total strangers that you met a couple of
days back…. I just wished that it wouldn’t come to that. So I came up with a
solution – a sleeping bag – that is what I would move into the new house with –
it was fully carpeted and had heating… a sleeping bag should do just fine for
starters. I had over 100kg of luggage coming from home in India, that would
take care of the daily necessities. The house already had a fully fitted
kitchen and wardrobes. So basically I was looking at a sofa set, a couple of
beds, mattresses, dining chairs and a TV as additions. Given the pathetic
quality of entertainment on display on TV in UK, getting the box was actually not too high on my list – un
understandable books by Mark Haddon seemed quite exciting in comparison. In due
course I will get a debit card and I will start building up my home collection
– converting a “rental property” to a home – slowly and steadily – the Brit
way.
I have waxed eloquently about events and completely left out
the other big thing in life - people. Considering that most of my interaction
has been with folks from work, most of whom are Indian, it is a good feeling
that you can speak Hindi in office while in UK. I also have spent my days thus
far in Ilford which is heavily populated by Asians.. so all in all, I have seem
more Asians in UK (in Ilford, in the serviced apartment, in trains, tubes,
streets - surprisingly low number of
Chinese looking people) than I have seen whites or more specifically White
Brits. Most whites I have seen are Polish, Russians, Spanish – all variety… it
is quite a good feeling that the city is so inclusive. But you do sense an
underlying frustration in London. This feeling is more pronounced in packed
trains and tubes than anywhere I have been till now. It is quite simple really.
You can’t unveil any of your discomfort without actually blaming it on someone
else. In closed quarters like the tube most of these “someone else” are always
from a different race, country, religion or of a different colour and being a inclusive
city or being expected to be a more inclusive city like the new mayor of London
expressed a couple of days back, if
everytime a Brit felt uneasy and went around complaining, you would have fist
fights almost all the time. We have it in India too, Maharashtrians blame the
Madrasis for taking all their jobs who blame the Gujjus for being so loud
mouthed who blame the Bengalis for being so lazy who blame the Punjabis for
being so boisterous and of course everyone blames the Muslims and the
bhaiiyyas…. But at the end of it – it is our country – by birth, by right, by
ancestry and we – despite our differences are all Indian. Its different when an
Indian shouts at another – it’s all within the “family”.. London is trying very
hard to be a family, but it comes across as a foster home – a very good, kind
and generous one, don’t get me wrong, but it’s just not home.
Obviously I have
been in the country for all of 8 days, so what do I know.....
