From the park

The real Force India
They are here, there, everywhere. At the airport, in the customs, among the security, even at the F1 paddock. We are talking about Indians.

Not the usual suspects — there are very few from Kerala. Most are from Punjab, Delhi, Haryana, Maharashtra and — Raj Thackeray might not like this — also from Bihar and UP.

Some were born and brought up in Australia — Indian father, Aussie mother, or vice versa - but many have migrated here. And they seem quite happy living here. “Racism? What’s that? We have never faced anything of the sort.

Oh, you mean the recent happenings concerning the cricket tour. That was blown out of proportion. It’s a great place to be,” says Satinder, the man manning the main entrance to Albert Park, who’s originally from Chandigarh.

Who does he think were the culprits, Indians or Aussies? “I think we broke their pride. Isn’t that punishment enough?” he laughs. We got the answer.

Dirty shoes and angels
Here’s a warning for all those planning a trip Down Under. You might not have taken a bath for weeks, it might have been a fortnight since you changed your undergarments, your jeans might have changed its colour from blue to grey due to the month-long dirt — you can still escape the airport customs.

But never ever take a chance with your shoes; they should be sparkling clean, or you might have to enter the country barefoot from the airport.

The Aussies are very ‘strict’ about it. So after those normal silly questions like, “Are you carrying explosives in your bag”, “Are you involved in unlawful activities…” (as though one will admit it even if he’s a terrorist!), comes the most important one: “Are your shoes dirty?”.

“Of course not,” you stress, though even you can’t even remember when you washed them last. The tough looking lady is clearly not impressed. “You say they are clean?” she repeats, trying to eye your shoes, while you try to hide them behind your baggage.

“Yeah, they are,” you repeat, but there’s less conviction in the voice this time. “We shall have to check them out, come with me.” “It’s over. Save me God.” As if hearing the call, God immediately sends in an ‘angel’.

“It’s ok, they look clean. Let him go,” he barks at her. Reluctantly, she relents. The ‘angel’ — at that situation he indeed looked like one — later identified himself. His parents are from Mumbai, he was born in Canada, and is now working for Australian customs.