I am spending this fortnight in the US. I flew here for business the day Osama s innings ended. I m walking in a maze of TV monitors seeing people (Fareed Zakaria on CNN today) celebrating justice delivered, happy people, a restrained President, a grim proud military, and the state of Connecticut in which I am, where flags are half-mast because a local marine died in action in Afghanistan last week. Across the Sheraton at the Bradley International Airport, white petals of light flowers are falling like snowflakes on walkways but the trees are still in bloom, and quite full with a fluffy white.
The name of the old lady who lays breakfast in the Club Room on the Club Floor of the Sheraton is Hope. I m half laughin lookin at you, she tells me. You re the spitting image of my doctor. I laugh and she laughs along. Is he Indian? I ask. Yes! And I m goin to meet him today; an I m goin to tell him; Dr. Shah, I met your twin!
That doctor saved my life! she presses, but I am nervous to be paired with someone so illustrious.
I must prepare for a meeting in which to identify projects my customer will transfer to my plants in Bangalore. I am uncomfortable in these situations even in a place so mighty as the United States when I m the beneficiary of an outsourcing. But what shall I do? I lead a team that leans on me for work, and my plants should be fed, and, after all, boundaries and nations are the handiwork merely of men. Prosperity is every human s right.
I m traveling with my wife. The sun is out but it is raining a bit this week in Connecticut. Look, my wife cries. A strange light has come upon the buildings in the Bradley International Airport. I fumble in my bag for my camera, but the delay has a happy consequence. A rainbow now reigns over the airport, and will stay longer than I take to train the lens. I continue to fumble. The pictures contrast poorly with the sublime sight.
This post by me first appeared today on the3six5.posterous.com