Last Mile Logistics

What a whirlwind end to 2025! Earlier this month, I was drinking chai and chomping on a mediocre vada pav at Bengal Brothers, a hip Indian restaurant in Hong Kong, as Empire State of Mind played in the background, which transported me back to a similarly hip Indian restaurant, probably the Kati Roll Company on 49th and 6th, that I had visited with my batch in New York City in 2023. We were laughing, joking around, whining about our investment banking/markets training, and enjoying sweet tamarind and pudina chutneys like they were lifelines. This was 15th August, and I remember walking through Bryant Park, trying to find my friends and suddenly catching a glimpse of the Empire State Building, which was lit in the tricolor. I felt such a sense of pride, like that moment was just for me, and it really was - by the time I could gather my buddies, the lighting had changed to the usual iridescent blue. I thought it was the beginning of a beautiful new chapter, and maybe it was. So there I sat, enjoying the chilly winds in Hong Kong, drinking chai, and feeling quite proud of myself for having ridden the waves and come out stronger.  Point to note, the waiter at my favourite cha chaan teng in Wan Chai recognises me now, as the miserable Indian girl who always arrives right after they have run out of egg tarts. 

I had to immediately fly back to India, and meet my parents for a week long trip in the North East. Why am I going round and round in different sections of the Himalayas with my parents, when one suffers from motion sickness, the other from “having to photograph everything’ sickness, and me from both? Well, I wasn’t asked, just told, and thus found myself stuck in Guwahati and Shillong’s unbelievable traffic. I tried to flex my geography skills over my parents, who thought Guwahati was the capital of Assam - “it’s Dispur” I said as I rolled my eyes, not knowing that it’s right next to Guwahati. My friend from Meghalaya had cautioned me to bring a jacket, and boy, was she right. With chattering teeth, we saw vast canyons and almost dry waterfalls (wrong season) and quaint villages that looked unchanged since Independence. It was interesting to see tapioca (which we thought was a very Kerala specific root vegetable) and spherical pineapples that were more sweet than sour. As we arrived at one of the hotels, my parents reminisced the first time it was just us three traveling, back when I was about one. We had gone up to Munnar, my mother had plopped me on the plush hotel bed, and before she knew it, I had crawled over and touched the bulb of the bedside lamp, burnt my hand and begun crying. I wish I could say I bother her less these days with my stupidity. 

We visited the Kamakhya temple in Guwahati, which was unlike any other temple I had ever been to. It was in stark contrast to the ultra peaceful and quiet South Indian temples we were used to, which have lots of open space, where even onion and garlic isn’t used in cooking. I was very overwhelmed by the energy (divine or not) there, because of the pushy crowd, the lady who kept loudly singing in my ear, and the little lambs that were bleating in fear and roaming about right next to (trigger warning) heads of the sacrificed lambs. For the ones who do not believe, it is all really too much. Even for believers, it is a lot to process. Then, when we took a boat ride across the Brahmaputra to another temple, located on an island, where we spotted yet another crowded 1-hour queue, my claustrophobic brain gave up. I walked right out of there, to realise the boat had left, and the next boat would be 2 hours later! Literally stranded, cue the best dramatic performance I had given since I almost missed the check-in window for my flight to Hong Kong just a week earlier (oops, but thank you Cathay Pacific) and finally an old government worker assured me I can get on the next private boat that arrives. I hauled my parents on the boat, and figured out the best seat where there wasn’t a group of unemployed-looking young men with unnecessarily long stares. Oh yes, definitely do not miss this about India. 

Well, we did hear Christmas carols sung in the city centre of Shillong, eat authentic Assamese thalis and jhol momos, and watch traditional dance forms of Meghalaya. My father took a particular liking to the tribal songs, which we had to then hear multiple times during the car rides. We explored caves (where my parents left me in cramped spaces as they took photos, claustro-what?), crystal clear rivers at the India-Bangladesh border that weren’t so crystal clear, and decided against the 3,500 steps (one-way) required to see the double-decker living root bridge. After a week of glorious 4:30PM sunsets, I made a stop in Kochi to see my little sister’s face once again this year. Not sure if the sentiment was mutual. 

Finally arriving in Singapore, I was ready to get back into routine after so much chaos-until a terrible flu threw a spanner in all my year-end planning. As I snivel and croak under my blanket, Mulloth (one of my best friends from school) messages me out of the blue “Aishwarya, a younger you would have LOVED Dhurandhar”. Let us not get into the details of why, given this is a family friendly space, but yes, she was absolutely right. An older me also loves the concept, although I am yet to see the movie (!!), because some things don’t change even if years pass by. Like how I still burnt my hand on the electric kettle in Cherrapunjee much to my mother’s dismay.