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We made a trip home recently. During Jan-Feb. It had been just 2 months since I visited India, but for my wife, it was a visit after 2 years, to the day.

I was bent upon telling my wife all the time that it would be a rocking-shocking experience. But the optimist that she is, she kept hoping that Mumbai would've been cleared of its slums and Bangalore of its dust. I was secretly hoping the same, but I am normally closer to reality that she is, so I was not disappointed. The slums thrived, the roads choked, the traffic had grown 5 times, and the cricket team had lost 2 matches. But the indomitable Indian spirit showed no sign of waning.

We displayed the usual symptoms upon arrival - scared to drive or cross roads, wary of water, and the like. And we did the usual NewYorkers-VadaPav-Frankie circuit, visited friends, ate at Tendulkar's, attended a party hosted by her mom and then headed to Agra to catch a glimpse of the Taj before someone bombed it.

Down South, the sambar was sizzling and the new bahu was dazzling. My bro tied the knot and flew off to Goa to bask in the sun and spice up with mackarel curry and his new found love. While we kept saying - 3 weeks 2 short!

Before we knew, we were in the dry-cold-claustrophobic confines of a 747 en route to LAX, where an INS officer smiled at us and did not say "aliens", but said "Welcome". A welcome change!