Day 1 : With the current volatile situation in US, I wasn’t particularly keen on traveling there. I was even ready to skip Surabhi’s Harvard graduation. But with some critical bank work pending for almost nine months, I had no choice but to make the trip. The challenges of maintaining a U.S. bank account as a foreign resident are real.
I had an early morning flight with Emirates and chose business class, given the long journey—about 4 hours from Chennai to Dubai and nearly 13 hours from Dubai to New York. I was glad to be joined by Aparna and her father, who were also headed to New York for Aakash’s graduation. Emirates provides a complimentary chauffeur service for business class passengers, and mine arrived on time in a sleek Mercedes. It was a smooth and comfortable ride to the airport.
Once I arrived, I availed the porter service since I was carrying enough luggage for a month-long trip. At the terminal, I met Aparna and her dad, and we caught up before boarding.
The first leg of the journey, from Chennai to Dubai, took nearly 4 hours. We had a short stopover of about 1.5 hours before our next flight to New York. By the time we changed terminals and went through the necessary checks, there was barely enough time to reach the gate—boarding had already started as I arrived.
This was my first time flying business class with Emirates, but to be honest, I wasn’t overly impressed. The cabin felt more like an upgraded premium economy—there were simply too many business class seats, which diluted the exclusive experience. Even the restroom queues were surprisingly long, much like in economy. There was an onboard sky lounge, but since I avoid alcohol due to motion sickness and headaches, it didn’t add much value for me.
The main advantage, though, was the lie-flat seat. I find it difficult to sleep sitting up, so being able to stretch out made a huge difference. If you’re seeking a truly premium experience with Emirates, I’d suggest opting for First Class instead.
We landed at JFK in the afternoon. My connecting flight to Raleigh was scheduled for later that evening, anticipating long immigration lines. Fortunately, Aparna’s dad was using a wheelchair, and they were routed through a separate immigration queue. I accompanied them, and with Aparna answering most of the questions, we cleared immigration in just 15 minutes. After bidding them farewell, I headed to the domestic terminal.
Despite having a First Class ticket with American Airlines, I was disappointed to learn that their lounge access isn’t available for domestic flights—regardless of class. A quick tip for anyone booking U.S. domestic flights: economy tickets usually come with no checked baggage allowance. I had two suitcases for my month-long stay and ended up paying $40 per bag (up to 25kg), and nearly $100 more if they were overweight.
In comparison, booking First Class—which costs about $200-$300 more—makes sense. You get a dedicated check-in queue, generous baggage allowance without the usual hassles, better seating, and complimentary beverages. For someone like me, who simply enjoys a hot cup of tea or coffee, that extra comfort is worth it.
With about 5–6 hours to spare before my flight, I went searching for food. Most of the available sandwiches were cold and unappealing. A staff member suggested Starbucks, but I’m not a fan of their coffee. As I walked around, I spotted a Dunkin’ Donuts and was relieved to find hot burgers and green tea. That warm meal was a real savior—the cold sandwich I had picked up earlier went straight into the bin.
Unfortunately, my flight to Raleigh was delayed by another hour or two. Since it was a weekday and quite late, I asked Sala not to come to the airport. I eventually boarded the direct flight, landed just past midnight, booked an Uber, and finally reached Sala’s place—completely drained and ready to crash for the night.
Day 2: I woke up to the comforting aroma of hot tea made by Sala. There’s something special about tea made by someone else, especially when it’s by a dear friend. These days, I’ve mostly moved away from milk tea—but when Sala makes it, there’s always an exception. Geetha, Sala, and I sat together sipping tea while Hasna had already left for college, as I had woken up a bit late.
The morning calm was just what I needed. Sitting out in the backyard, watching the birds—robins and finches that had made their nests in the garden—brought such peace. The lush greenery, the blooming flowers, the rustle of leaves, and the soft chirping of birds made it the perfect setting to ease into the day.
Soon after, Sala got back to his work-from-home routine, which kept him occupied till around 5 PM. Geetha, on the other hand, barely had a moment to breathe. Between her full-time job and mentoring dance rehearsals with Hasna for an upcoming production in July, her schedule was non-stop.
I caught up on my own work until evening when Sandhya came by to take me to Chase Bank to finally sort out the pending issues that had been lingering for months. Unfortunately, by the time we reached, it was just 10–15 minutes before closing. The staff were courteous but understandably couldn’t help right then. The banker we needed to meet was already occupied, so we scheduled an appointment for the following Monday and headed back home.
Day 3: It was a hectic day, juggling work and errands. With the bank work still pending—mainly because I didn’t have a U.S. mobile number—we set out to get that sorted first.
We started with Verizon, which had an interesting offer. Though a little more expensive than my current Nextiva plan, they offered an EMI option for an iPhone worth $1200 at zero interest over three years. Surprisingly, they don’t even recommend paying the amount upfront. Since I spend most of my time outside the U.S., their international roaming package seemed the most practical for my needs.
However, since I don’t have an SSN or ITIN, and the number was being registered under my business account, they required a Good Standing Certificate from the State of Delaware, where my company is incorporated.
I quickly reached out to Siba and asked him to coordinate with our registered agents in the U.S. to get the certificate expedited. In the meantime, we decided to explore other providers—AT&T and Spectrum.
AT&T turned out to be impractical for my needs. Their international roaming costs $10 per day, which just isn’t viable for someone like me who travels frequently and doesn’t need full-time connectivity. Spectrum, on the other hand, was surprisingly efficient. The staff was prompt, responsive, and explained their packages clearly. Although we hadn’t finalized anything, we took their details and said we’d come back later after deciding.
To our surprise, the Spectrum team went ahead and created an order in their system—even without confirmation. They even scheduled a technician for an in-person setup. Since Sandhya’s address was listed as our local point of contact (SPOC), all communication and appointments were routed through her.
The worst part? There was no option to cancel the order on the spot. So now, we had an installation visit scheduled for a service we never confirmed—one of those ironic moments where U.S. customer service efficiency went a bit too far.
Day 4: It was the weekend, so I allowed myself a slow start and woke up late. Even though it was her day off from work, Geetha still had her dance classes from the morning, and Sala had already left for his usual pickle ball game.
By the time I got up, Sala had finished his game and was busy coordinating with Sandhya and Pradeep, as the Spectrum technician had shown up at their place for the installation we never confirmed. It took both of us a couple of calls and some back-and-forth to get the whole thing sorted and canceled. That took a good chunk of the morning.
Later, Sala and I stepped out for a quick round of shopping to pick up some essentials for cooking at home. Later in the day, we headed to Tanger Outlet in Maben to shop for a few other things I needed for my trip.
I had to replace my bag—the one I got from Ethiopia had a poor-quality zipper that broke during travel. Sala suggested we check out Michael Kors, and to my surprise, they had a perfect tote bag—spacious, durable, and stylish, just what I needed for day-to-day outings.
As we continued exploring, not much caught my eye at first. I realized I didn’t really need more formals—I hadn’t even worn the ones I picked up last year! What I actually needed was casual wear for the month-long stay. That’s when we stumbled upon Chico’s, and it turned out to be just my kind of store. Their clothing is perfect for travel—light, silky, and stylish. They also had a lovely collection of accessories. I picked up a few outfits and matching pieces.
By the time we got back, I was wiped out. After a long day of sorting errands and shopping, we called it a night and crashed.
Day 5: It was a lazy Sunday. By the time I woke up, Sala had already returned from his pickleball game and was catching up with a friend who had joined him. We sat down with our usual cup of hot tea and enjoyed a slow, relaxed morning. Geetha and Hasna were tied up with their dance classes for most of the day and well into the night, so it was just the three of us.
We decided to head out to Jordan Lake, one of the popular weekend spots near Raleigh. It’s a sprawling 13,900-acre reservoir formed by damming the Haw River, managed by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, and serves multiple purposes—recreation, flood control, water supply, and wildlife habitat.
We visited the Ebenezer Church access point, a peaceful spot near the shore. We spread out a bit to relax while chatting. Sala’s friend, who had been up all night due to a work emergency, ended up dozing off while we talked. So Sala and I took a quiet walk around the lake, soaking in the fresh air and scenic views. We clicked a few photos and enjoyed the serenity.
By the time we returned, his friend was just waking up. We were tempted to give him a little scare—but seeing how exhausted he was, we spared him! Instead, we all sat by the water and enjoyed coconut water and fresh watermelon that Sala had brought along. Simple pleasures, but so refreshing.
Later in the evening, Geetha managed to get a short break. We decided to go for a little drive together and stopped by a home-based ice cream shop. The flavors were fresh and comforting, and we packed some for Hasna before heading back home.
After such a relaxing day, we ended it on a sweet note and crashed for the night.
Day 6: My morning began the usual way—sitting outside with a cup of tea, watching the birds flutter around the garden. The robins and finches have made their nests there, and it’s always such a peaceful start to the day. After that little dose of calm, I got back to my work.
In the afternoon, Sandhya came by to pick me up so we could head to the bank and hopefully make progress on the long-pending account work. Unfortunately, due to the delay in addressing the issue, the local bankers weren’t able to help us. We were advised to contact customer service—but by then, it was already closed for the day. With no other option, we postponed everything to the next morning.
When we got back, I finally saw the brown rabbit that Sala had been talking about. He often mentioned how these rabbits were nibbling on the garden plants, but this was the first time I spotted one myself—and I have to admit, it looked absolutely adorable despite its destructive little habit!
The rest of the evening was calm. I wrapped up some leftover work and, after a day filled with delays and unexpected visitors, finally called it a night.
Day 7: It was a routine start to the day, but things quickly got frustrating. We began the morning by calling customer service once again to try and resolve the pending bank issue. Unfortunately, the call bounced between multiple teams, none of whom could offer a concrete solution. Explaining the same issue repeatedly to different people was exhausting—and frankly, a nightmare.
I couldn’t help but compare the experience to banking in India. Despite all the complaints we tend to have back home, we are actually pampered when it comes to customer service. It’s only when you deal with such inefficient and unsatisfactory systems abroad that you begin to truly appreciate how streamlined and responsive our own services are back home.
The final update from the bank was vague—they said they needed to check internally and promised a call back. Of course, that never came. So now, the wait continues into another day.
In the midst of all this frustration, the only comforting part was being around some of my closest friends. Sala and Geetha, despite their packed schedules, did their best to make time for me. Sala, in particular, was actively looking for alternative solutions, as Chase Bank was becoming a never-ending ordeal. Meanwhile, I remained stuck—unable to use my account until the issue is resolved.
Day 8: Finally, we managed to get through to the Chase compliance team—ironically, outsourced to Hyderabad, India. Unfortunately, they turned out to be one of the most inefficient teams I’ve ever dealt with.
The core issue revolved around verifying a personal check from HSBC. I provided my U.S. number for the verification process, but they rejected it, claiming the caller ID showed as “unknown.” I’ve had this number for over two years and was even willing to provide my monthly bills as proof, yet the representative refused to acknowledge it.
I contacted Nextiva to update the caller ID settings. They confirmed the update, but since their support is entirely virtual with no live agents, there was no real-time way to resolve the issue. Because of this seemingly minor hurdle, what should have been a simple 10-minute verification turned into a nine-month ordeal—one that I eventually had to fly to the U.S. to fix.
Here’s the irony: even while sitting in the U.S., my verification call was routed back to Hyderabad. And, suddenly, the same representative who had previously rejected my number when I was in India now accepted it without hesitation. Had she done this earlier, my account would never have been frozen.
To make matters worse, she had even attempted to call HSBC without me on the line—a clear violation of standard privacy protocols. Naturally, HSBC refused to proceed. At that point, I explained—once again—that I only had a Nextiva number. But because it showed up as “unknown,” she refused to use it. This ridiculous back-and-forth dragged on for nine months—until I came to the U.S. in person.
Finally, while in the U.S., we managed to connect with HSBC on a three-way call and complete the verification.
But just when I thought the nightmare was over, Chase informed me that my account would not be reopened due to the “long delay” in verification.
Whose fault was that delay? Certainly not mine. The blame lay squarely with their poor communication, rigid processes, and complete lack of accountability. And yet, I suffered the consequences—my account was frozen, my funds inaccessible for nearly a year, and my business operations affected.
When I asked if I could at least collect the remaining balance in person, I was given the classic response:
“We can only mail a check to the Delaware address on file.”
No flexibility. No logic. No understanding. I was in Raleigh, traveling across multiple states for business, and now I had to wait for a check to arrive at an address I wasn’t even staying at. This kind of blind rule-following, with no room for basic human judgment, is absolutely maddening.
This entire experience with Chase Bank has been nothing short of a nightmare. It’s made me seriously question why U.S. banks even offer services to international clients when they’re clearly incapable of supporting them. This wasn’t just bureaucracy—it was mental harassment, financial disruption, and a complete waste of time, money, and energy.
If this is the level of service from a “Grade A” U.S. bank like Chase, I shudder to think what it would be like with a smaller institution.
Never again with Chase. Lesson learned—unfortunately, the hard way.
Day 9: It was finally time to meet Noor. He had just returned from a road trip, and since I was flying to Memphis the next day, catching up with him was an absolute must.
Sala and I headed to Noor’s place, where we were warmly welcomed by his family. As always, we were treated to their legendary biryani—a dish I can never say no to, and honestly, never get enough of Noor’s wife makes the best biryani I’ve ever had. The last time, Sala and Noor prepared it under her supervision, and this time it looked like their son and daughter had taken on the legacy and pitched in too.
Sala and I thoroughly enjoyed the hearty meal, savoring every bite. After dinner, we spent time catching up with Noor and his spouse, sharing stories, laughs, and reflections. It was one of those moments where time stood still.
For the three of us—Sala, Noor, and me—it felt like we had stepped back into our IBM days. The memories, the camaraderie, and the shared experiences all came flooding back. There’s something truly special about reconnecting with old friends, and today was a beautiful reminder of that.
All in all, it was a wonderful, heartwarming day filled with good food, great conversations, and genuine connection.
Day 10 – Today was originally meant for something special—I was supposed to fly to New York to attend Aakash’s graduation. Unfortunately, Aakash couldn’t manage to secure additional tickets at the last minute, so I decided to make the most of the change in plans by visiting Krishna instead. He was in town and had just recovered from a major health scare, so it felt important to see him.
Even though I told Sala I could take an Uber to the airport—especially since he was working and my flight was in the afternoon—he insisted on dropping me off. In hindsight, I’m glad he did. It gave us one more chance to catch up during the drive to Raleigh airport.
During the security check at the airport, I had less than 100 ml of water left in my bottle, but that didn’t stop TSA from making me go back and empty it. I was surprised, but it quickly became clear—in the U.S., even a drop of water isn’t allowed past security. So, note to self (and others): never carry water through U.S. airport security, no matter how little. Instead, carry an empty bottle and fill it post-security—there are plenty of water stations around. A small hiccup, but a valuable lesson learned.
I flew American Airlines with a layover in Charlotte before reaching Memphis, as there were no direct flights. Krishna, despite my repeated requests not to strain himself due to his recent health issues, came to pick me up from the airport. Since it was already quite late by the time I arrived, he dropped me at the hotel and headed home.
He had suggested I book the same hotel as my previous visit—Residence Inn in Germantown—so it felt familiar. The hotel is decent, but there were a few things that still surprised me. For instance, housekeeping is only done on alternate days. Can you imagine that happening in India at a Marriott? It’s hard to believe, but welcome to the U.S.—even well-known properties cut back on what we consider basic services.
Even the complimentary water bottles are provided only on the first day; after that, you have to buy your own. For the kind of money one pays for a Marriott stay, it felt more like a glorified B&B.
After the long day of travel and shifting plans, I was exhausted. I didn’t dwell too much on the little inconveniences and just crashed for the night.
Day 11: The morning started with the idea of checking out the hotel breakfast, but that plan quickly fizzled. I grabbed a glass of orange juice, only to be shocked by how sour it was—it honestly felt like they had squeezed it with the peel still on. I’d never tasted anything like it! When I told Krishna about it later, he laughed and said, “That’s just how orange juice tastes in the U.S.” Well, that was the end of orange juice for me on this trip.
Soon after, Krishna arrived and we headed out to visit the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis. The museum is located at the historic Lorraine Motel, the very site where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated in 1968. The museum offers an immersive journey through the American Civil Rights Movement, from the horrors of slavery to the ongoing fight for equality. Through interactive exhibits, oral histories, and powerful artifacts, it covers pivotal events like the Montgomery Bus Boycott, the Freedom Rides, and the Black Power Movement.
Walking through those halls felt like revisiting some of the darkest, yet most defining, chapters of American history. I picked up a book from the museum store to read more deeply about it later—there’s just so much to absorb.
Afterward, we went to Central BBQ, a spot I had heard is among the best in town. We ordered a pulled pork burger and chicken wings, and ate them right in the car. True to its reputation, the food was delicious—simple, hearty, and full of flavor.
Next on the agenda was a bit of shopping. We stopped by Chico’s, but the first store—a smaller, independent one—was a letdown with very limited choices. Thankfully, we found another outlet nearby that had a better collection, and I managed to pick up a few things.
By then, both of us were tired of typical American fast food, so Krishna suggested making some homemade fish curry and rice—a refreshing change from burgers and hot dogs! We picked up some seafood and headed to his place. To my surprise, he prepared the fish Maharashtrian-style, marinating it in kokum juice—something I was seeing for the first time.
While Krishna cooked, I enjoyed some quiet time in his garden. It was filled with magnolia, jasmine, and a variety of other plants. Of course, like most backyards here, it was also a buffet for the local rabbits who apparently enjoy his plants as much as he does!
The fish curry turned out to be absolutely delicious. After that soulful meal and a lovely evening, I booked an Uber and headed back to the hotel, heart and stomach both full.
Day 12: The day began with a cozy brunch at Panera, known for its fresh breads and inviting atmosphere—just perfect for a rainy morning. The steady downpour outside added a soothing rhythm to our meal, making it feel even more comforting.
After brunch, we drove to Tanger Outlets in Mississippi for some shopping. I stayed focused on Chico’s, while Krishna wandered off to explore Polo and a few other stores. Unfortunately, Chico’s didn’t have many clothing options this time, but their accessory collection was impressive, and I managed to pick up a few nice pieces.
The drive back to Memphis was smooth and scenic, made all the more pleasant by the soft rain. Once we returned, Krishna dropped me off at the hotel. I could tell he wasn’t feeling his best—the combination of dietary restrictions and dining out the previous day had clearly taken a toll. He needed to rest and get back on his medication.
We said our goodbyes quietly, knowing I was flying out the next day. I truly appreciated how much effort he put into spending time with me, even while managing his health. It was a gentle and heartfelt close to my Memphis visit.
Day 13: It was time to check out, and since it was Memorial Day, Krishna had the day off. Though I offered to take an Uber, he insisted on dropping me at the airport himself—a thoughtful gesture before heading off to Boston. We said our goodbyes, and I boarded my flight, which routed through Washington D.C. before finally landing in Boston.
From the airport, I grabbed an Uber to Beacon Inn, where Sur was already waiting for me—he had just arrived from India. But any excitement I felt quickly turned into pure frustration. Our room was on the fourth floor, and there was no elevator.
I had two heavy suitcases, and the idea of dragging them up a narrow staircase after a long journey was the last thing I wanted to deal with. I couldn’t believe Sur had booked a place like this, knowing I’d be arriving with all this luggage. To make matters worse (or perhaps funnier in hindsight), I couldn’t resist teasing him a bit—he’s not exactly known for his love of physical activity. This, I told him, was his surprise workout session for the day. He had already hauled his own bag up earlier, and now we had to do it all over again for mine.
By the time we finished, I was absolutely famished. We stepped out and spotted a Spanish restaurant just around the corner. Thankfully, it turned out to be a great find. I had one of the best grilled chicken dishes I’ve ever had, while Sur enjoyed a plate of sautéed mushrooms, and we shared a flavorful bruschetta.
Stuffed and thoroughly exhausted from the travel, luggage drama, and unintended stair-climbing workout, we returned to the inn and crashed for the night.
Day 14: It was a special day—Mason Graduation Day for Surabhi. We got ready early and made our way to the Harvard Kennedy School, where the convocation was taking place.
Before the ceremony, we stopped by the campus canteen for a quick breakfast and caught up with Vinit and Sara. The excitement in the air was contagious, and soon after, we made our way to the lawn, where the graduation was being held.
The ceremony itself was beautiful—elegant, heartfelt, and inspiring. I had the pleasure of meeting Sur’s parents, who had flown in for the occasion, along with Vir. There was a sense of pride all around, and the joyful energy of the graduates made it a truly memorable experience.
Once the ceremony concluded, we dropped Sur’s parents back at their accommodation and returned to the hotel to rest and recharge for a bit. Later that evening, we headed to the waterfront near Harvard to meet Surabhi’s close college friends. It was a relaxed and warm gathering—we spent time listening to stories from their time at Harvard, sharing plenty of laughs, and enjoying some delicious pizza. As we were winding down, Manisha also arrived, just in time to say hello and be part of the closing moments of the evening.
Eventually, we called it a night—ending the day on a high note, full of celebration, connection, and pride in Surabhi’s wonderful achievement.
Day 15 : Today was dedicated to exploring Harvard, and we were lucky to have Surabhi as our guide. She took us on a personal tour of the campus, walking us through the historic grounds, iconic libraries, and the Harvard Art Museum. Every corner of the university exuded legacy and tradition, and seeing it through Surabhi’s eyes made it even more special. The campus truly felt like a living monument to centuries of academic excellence.
After the tour, we headed to Friends Café for a laid-back brunch. The café had a warm, cozy vibe and offered the perfect setting to unwind after a morning full of walking and discovery. Once we were done, we dropped Sur’s parents back at their accommodation so they could get some rest.
In the afternoon, we visited the Boston Tea Party Ships & Museum, one of the most immersive and interactive museums I’ve ever been to. Set on the water, the museum brings to life the events of December 1773, when American colonists—disguised as Mohawk Indians—dumped 342 chests of tea into Boston Harbor. This act of protest against British taxation, particularly the Tea Act, became a defining moment leading up to the American Revolution.
The experience beautifully blended historical storytelling, live reenactments, and interactive exhibits aboard restored 18th-century ships. We didn’t just learn about history—we felt like we were part of it. It was a vivid reminder of the strength of civil resistance and the enduring importance of standing up for one’s rights.
After wrapping up the visit, we made our way back to Cambridge. The infamous Boston traffic made it a rather long drive, but we eventually made it back just in time to get ready for the evening.
We had tickets to a student graduation party at a nearby pub, organized as part of the celebration events. Sadly, the party didn’t live up to expectations. The food was terrible, the vibe was lackluster, and the whole experience felt like a bit of a waste of time and money. We tried to make the most of it, but after a while, we decided it wasn’t worth staying.
Luckily, our favorite Spanish restaurant was still open and once again came to the rescue. A comforting, familiar meal was exactly what we needed to end the day on a better note.
Exhausted from the long day of walking, learning, and enduring a disappointing party, we crashed back at the hotel, ready to embrace whatever the next day had in store.
Day 16 : Today was the main graduation day for Surabhi, and there was an air of excitement from the moment we woke up. After a quick bite to eat, we headed to the Harvard Kennedy School, where the graduation procession was about to begin.
The event kicked off with the stirring sound of bagpipes, as the musicians led the graduating students in a ceremonial walk. We joined the procession as it made its way to the main Harvard campus, weaving through the roads which had been cordoned off. Each department was coming out from its own building, creating a vibrant and festive atmosphere across the entire university.
The walk turned into quite the campus tour—we found ourselves circling different entrances and pathways, following the flow of the crowd and soaking in the energy of the day. It was a bit of a workout, but completely worth it for the unique experience of seeing the entire Harvard community in celebration mode.
Once Surabhi had reached her designated area for the ceremony, we stepped out briefly for a midday brunch, recharging before the final convocation.
Later, we returned to the Harvard Kennedy School for the official graduation ceremony. It was a proud, emotional moment, watching Surabhi cross this major milestone. The speeches were powerful, and the entire setup felt grand yet intimate—fitting for the momentous occasion.
After the ceremony, we said our goodbyes to Surabhi’s friends and family and headed to her room to pick up a few items that Sur had ordered earlier. With everything packed up and the day winding down, we decided to have our final dinner at our go-to Spanish restaurant—a fitting end to our stay in Cambridge.
The evening was quiet, filled with reflection and gratitude. Tired but content, we returned to the hotel and crashed for the night, marking the end of a beautiful chapter.
Day 17: Today began with a train journey—Sur had thoughtfully booked us on a business class coach from Boston to New York, eager for me to experience a U.S. train ride firsthand. The coach was spacious and comfortable, except for the tight luggage storage area. While Sur tried to manage his bags in the cramped space, I stepped in to help—and that’s when disaster struck.
My heavy suitcase slipped and crushed my right thumb. At first glance, there was no visible damage, but within seconds, I felt a wave of pain and saw blood oozing from under the nail. It was one of those travel mishaps you dread—especially when far from home. The injury made it nearly impossible to use that hand, and pulling my suitcase became a painful task. I rummaged through my wallet for a makeshift bandage, trying to stop the bleeding—nearly in tears from the pain and sheer frustration.
The only small relief came in the form of food. Though options were limited, Sur grabbed a hot dog and some coffee from the pantry car. The warm coffee helped soothe both my mood and my senses, and I slowly started to feel a bit better. I even managed to doze off for a while, hoping sleep would help me forget the pain.
We arrived in New York by late morning and hopped into a taxi. Out of habit, I asked the driver what the fare would be—he turned out to be a friendly Sikh gentleman, who smiled and replied, “There’s a meter—we don’t cheat here.” We all laughed—it was a funny reminder of how some habits from India stay with you, no matter where you go.
Our stay was booked at Le Meridien on Fifth Avenue, but since we were early, our room wasn’t ready yet. Sur had to rush to his office, so I waited in the lobby. In the meantime, I coordinated the delivery of my Chase check, which had arrived the previous day in Delaware, to be forwarded to Le Meridien. Being in New York made logistics easier—with every major bank and courier service just around the corner, I felt more in control.
Once the room was finally ready, I went upstairs and crashed—utterly drained, both physically and emotionally from the pain in my thumb and the events of the day.
Later that evening, Sur returned from work. I’d assumed he’d be heading out for dinner with colleagues, but it turned out no one else had made it to the office that day. So instead, we made the most of the evening together. We took a leisurely walk to Times Square, soaking in its electrifying lights, buzzing energy, and contagious charm. We picked up a chicken gyro from a street vendor—fresh, flavorful, and just what I needed to wrap up the day on a better note.
With a full belly, sore thumb, and tired feet, we made our way back to the hotel and called it a night—grateful for small joys and ready to explore New York City the next day.
Day 18: We started the day with plans for breakfast, but since the service was à la carte and running slow, we were short on time and had to leave before eating to catch our ferry to Liberty Island. I was already beginning to feel the effects of skipping a meal—an empty stomach on a moving boat is a nightmare for someone like me who’s prone to motion sickness and headaches.
Thankfully, once we were on board, I managed to grab a quick hot dog and coffee from the ferry’s snack counter. Not the most glamorous meal, but a lifesaver in that moment.
We soon arrived at Liberty Island, home to one of the most iconic symbols of freedom—the Statue of Liberty (Liberty Enlightening the World). Designed by Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi and gifted by France in 1886, the statue is as majestic in person as in photographs. The Statue of Liberty Museum, which opened in 2019, was equally fascinating—especially the display of the original torch, which added historical weight to the experience. Seating around the island was limited, so we made the most of brief stops and wandered around the grounds, soaking in the atmosphere.
From there, we caught the ferry to Ellis Island—a place that holds deep emotional resonance in America’s immigrant story. Between 1892 and 1954, nearly 12 million immigrants passed through this once-bustling inspection and processing station. It’s estimated that 40% of Americans today can trace at least one ancestor to Ellis Island. Now part of the Statue of Liberty National Monument, the island’s north side houses the moving National Museum of Immigration, while the south side, including the old Immigrant Hospital, is accessible via guided tours. The stories, photos, and personal artifacts brought this chapter of history to life in a very human way.
After the ferry returned us to Manhattan, we made our way to the 9/11 Memorial & Museum. It was nearly closing time, so we moved quickly through the exhibits, but even in that short time, the impact was powerful. The museum commemorates the victims, survivors, and first responders of both the September 11th attacks and the 1993 World Trade Center bombing. Walking through the space, I was overcome with emotion—how can one human bring such devastation to another? It’s something I still can’t wrap my head around. All I could do was offer a silent prayer for the souls lost and the families forever changed.
After leaving the memorial, we took a walk through the nearby World Trade Center mall, then continued on to the Rothschild Center, followed by a visit to the New York Stock Exchange and a quick stop at the iconic Wall Street Bull. The energy in the Financial District was electric, even late in the day, but after everything we had seen and felt, we were completely spent.
We finally made our way back to the hotel and crashed for the night, hearts full, minds racing, and feet sore from a long but deeply meaningful day.
Day 19: We planned to start the day a little earlier to finally enjoy a proper breakfast—and thankfully, it was a decent one that set a good tone for the rest of the day.
Our first stop was the New York Botanical Garden (NYBG)—a sprawling, 250-acre living museum and a world-renowned center for plant research and conservation. From the moment we entered, it was like stepping into a different world—calm, colorful, and filled with life.
Among the various highlights, my absolute favorite was the Rose Garden. It instantly reminded me of the Ooty Rose Garden back home. For me, flowers are pure joy, and being surrounded by so many vibrant blooms lifted my spirits immensely. I couldn’t resist taking loads of pictures, especially of the roses in full bloom, and then spent time wandering through other curated sections, admiring the diverse flora and fauna on display.
After exploring the gardens, we stopped by a restaurant for a quick meal to refuel before heading to our next destination: the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH). Located in Theodore Roosevelt Park, this legendary museum is home to around 32 million specimens—ranging from plants, animals, fossils, and meteorites to human cultural artifacts and even genomic and astrophysical data.
The museum is enormous, covering over 2.5 million square feet, and it felt like we were only scratching the surface of its vast collection. Still, what we managed to see was incredibly impressive and thought-provoking—a testament to the wonders of both the natural world and human discovery.
Later in the evening, we made a stop at the iconic Strand Bookstore, famously known for its “18 miles of books.” It’s a paradise for book lovers and one of the most beloved independent bookstores in New York. Since Sur loves books, especially those on sci-fi fiction, he was completely in his element here—browsing shelves with childlike excitement. I ended up picking up a book on American history as well—something meaningful to remember the trip by.
With our bags a little heavier and hearts quite full, we returned to the hotel and crashed for the night, wrapping up another fulfilling day in New York.
Day 20: It was an incredibly stressful day. The check that was supposed to be delivered on Friday never arrived—and with weekend courier services largely unavailable in the U.S., I was forced to wait until Monday. My flight was the next day, and I couldn’t afford any more delays.
After a quick breakfast, I sat anxiously in the hotel, waiting. That’s when I learned that the agents in Delaware had used UPS instead of FedEx, even though we had provided a FedEx account for faster service. To make matters worse, while tracking the package, I saw a frustrating update: “Address incomplete.” That made no sense. How could a courier fail to locate a well-known hotel like Le Meridien on Fifth Avenue, especially when the complete address had already been provided?
Despite paying $50 for expedited delivery, it was now clear there was going to be a delay. I was furious.
Trying to resolve it, I thought maybe adding my room number might help. The hotel reception had kindly offered to leave a note with the room number and take the package on my behalf. However, UPS’s website didn’t allow me to update the address. The reception told me the nearest UPS store was just a few blocks away, so I rushed there—only to be told they were just a store and couldn’t help directly. They did, however, give me a customer service number.
While I was scrambling, Sur somehow managed to get the room number added through his account. When I called UPS again, the agent frustratingly told me that adding the room number counted as a new address, which meant delivery would now take another 24 hours. I tried to explain repeatedly that this was not a new address—we simply clarified what was already given—but nothing worked.
I was exhausted, panicking, and ready to give up. I called Sur again, and we tried one more time. This time, a lady answered, and thank God for her. She had some common sense. Once we explained everything—the urgency, that my flight was the next day, and that we hadn’t changed the address but only clarified it—she agreed to add a supervisor note and escalate the delivery.
Finally, a couple of hours later, I received a call on my U.S. number. A UPS driver had the package. I confirmed the address again, and at long last, the check was delivered. What a nightmare.
But the day wasn’t done testing me yet.
The next step was to cash the check, and that turned out to be another ordeal. I went to Chase Bank, hoping to encash it, but was told that since it was a business check, I couldn’t do so directly. It had to be deposited into a business account and then transferred. Worse, they refused to even open a business account for me the same day, citing policy restrictions.
As a non-resident, I already knew how hard it is to open a bank account in the U.S.—most banks don’t entertain non-residents unless it’s a global bank. Now I had a check in my hand and no way to encash or deposit it. I was told the check would be valid for 120 days, but the thought of possibly losing that money added to my anxiety.
Feeling helpless, I noticed a Citibank branch nearby and decided to give it a shot. To my surprise, the staff were quite accommodating. Even though they didn’t have a clear checklist for Indian nationals, the banker on duty was kind and patient. She even conference-called a business banker and tried her best to initiate the account opening for me.
Though the account couldn’t be opened instantly due to verification procedures, she told me she would follow up within a day or two. I appreciated her effort, especially because I had told her I was flying out the next day. She made sure all possible paperwork was completed in person.
Completely drained—physically and emotionally—I left the bank and headed back to the hotel. It had been a frustrating, chaotic day. But thankfully, I had a dinner meeting scheduled with Mr. Boris, which provided a much-needed distraction.
Catching up with him was comforting; he, too, was exhausted from a long day, so we kept the evening simple. After a relaxed meal and some conversation, he kindly walked me back to the hotel. We said our goodbyes, and as soon as I got to my room, I crashed for the night, hoping the next day would be smoother.
Day 21: We had an early morning flight out of New York to Delaware. Since there are very few direct flights to Delaware, we flew from LaGuardia to Philadelphia—it’s just about a 30-minute drive from Philly to Wilmington, Delaware.
Sur had to rush to his Chase office because our flight was delayed, so we dropped him off first. I then headed to Holiday Inn Express & Suites Wilmington-Newark, and thankfully, I was able to check in right away. As is common in the U.S., there was no help with luggage, so I hauled everything myself and went straight to the room to freshen up.
My main mission for the day was to open a business bank account, since our company is registered in Delaware—I figured it might work to my advantage to do it here.
I started with CitiBank, hoping to follow up on the application I had initiated earlier in New York. Unfortunately, the branch I located turned out not to be a proper bank branch at all—just an office location with no staff. So I moved on to Bank of America, where the banker was helpful and tried to initiate the process. But things hit a wall before she could click submit, when I was asked for an ITIN. Adding my U.S. sponsor wasn’t an option either, as she didn’t hold at least a 25% share in the company, which was apparently a requirement. Disappointed I went back to the hotel and crashed for the night.
Day 22: New day and I tried to visit Wells Fargo, but was turned away because the business banker was unavailable and asked to try another branch.
I then went to TD Bank, where the banker was extremely kind and helpful. She explained that she could proceed only if I provided company documents bearing the official seal of the State of Delaware. This was news to me. I quickly took a sample photo of the document and forwarded it to Siba, asking him to coordinate with the local agent. But he refused to share the local contact’s number and said they’d need advance notice—yet another roadblock.
Determined, I tried my luck at Citizens Bank, but they required a physical office in the U.S. to open the account. Then came PNC Bank, which had the same policy. At M&T Bank, the banker candidly told me that as a local bank, they didn’t support international transactions, and she actually recommended I go back to Bank of America or Wells Fargo—where she had previously worked. I then went back to Wells Fargo, hoping for a different outcome. This time, the banker didn’t turn me away due to unavailability—but after reviewing the application, she refused to proceed because my U.S. sponsor did not hold at least a 25% share in the company, which was a strict requirement. It was frustrating to hit the same wall again despite putting in so much effort.
Running out of options, I insisted Siba help me with the sealed documents, but his response was flat: “You’ll have to figure it out on your own. The local agents won’t go without advance notice.” I had no choice. I booked an appointment myself with the Division of Corporations in Dover—only then did I realize that Dover is a different city, almost an hour and a half away.
Despite being late by about 15 minutes, I went ahead. The receptionist was polite and directed me to the basement office. The lady there was very helpful. I filled out the form, but they only accepted exact change or check for payment. Since I didn’t have a U.S. account to write a check from, I handed over $100—far more than needed—telling her to keep the balance, as I had no other choice.
Interestingly, when she asked where I’d be using the documents and I replied “for a U.S. bank account,” she said I didn’t need an apostille. Just a simple state seal was enough. Within a minute, the document was stamped. Since I had overpaid, she credited the balance to my account wallet for future use. That was the only part of the day that actually went smoothly.
On the way back, there was an accident, which delayed me further. I rushed to TD Bank just before closing, and thankfully, the same banker welcomed me and began the account opening process. By the time everything was submitted, it was nearly closing time. She informed me that the final backend approval was still pending, so I’d need to return the next day.
I hadn’t had any water or food the entire day. The 500 ml water bottle I’d carried had run out in the first half of the day, and I didn’t have time to stop anywhere. When I finally returned to TD Bank, I asked if they had any water—they said no. That was the limit for me—in India, it’s unimaginable not to get drinking water, which is usually freely provided everywhere.
Since I had to return to the bank the next day, I had no choice but to reschedule my morning flight to a late-night departure to Detroit, while Sur flew out to Columbus. I was completely exhausted—both physically and mentally.
To unwind after the chaos of the day, I followed the banker’s recommendation and had dinner at Banks Seafood Kitchen—a local gem for seafood lovers. The meal helped lift my spirits a little.
Back at the hotel, I collapsed into bed—completely drained, but thankful that at least some progress had finally been made.
Day 23: A call from TD Bank woke me up—the initial approval for the account had come through, and I needed to visit the bank to complete the remaining formalities. I rushed over, where the banker directed me to another helpful and supportive lady. However, at the last minute, they realized that since I didn’t have an ITIN, they couldn’t give me direct access to the account. Thankfully, since the approval was already in place, they took my US SPOC’s details and agreed to open the account under her, with the understanding that she would be given full access initially and I could be added later.
Sandhya was incredibly helpful over the phone, providing all the required details promptly, and the account was finally activated. After a couple of intense hours, both the banker and I let out a sigh of relief. I was already assuming I’d have to coordinate for the debit card and that it would be couriered later—but to my surprise and delight, the banker printed and activated the card on the spot, knowing I was flying out that night. I was instructing Sandhya to FedEx it, but thankfully, I walked out with everything in hand.
Since the account was still technically inactive until Sandhya signed the documents in person, she agreed to visit the branch the next day—even though it was quite far and required taking half a day off work. With my part done, I thanked the TD Bank team and headed back to the hotel to check out. I got my luggage out and decided to unwind a bit.
For lunch, I went to Eclipse Bistro, a spot with great reviews. I just wanted a moment to relax with some good food and a drink. I asked the bartender to surprise me with a cocktail—and he didn’t disappoint. It was a bit strong for my taste, but it gave me a much-needed sense of calm after the intense stress of the past few days. I thanked them, left the restaurant, and headed straight to the airport to catch my flight to Detroit.
I landed late at night. My Uber driver, originally from the Philippines, was super friendly—we ended up chatting the entire ride. He even offered to show me around if I needed help during the weekend. I thanked him for the offer and said good night as he dropped me at Holiday Inn & Suites, Troy. The check-in was smooth, but I wasn’t surprised when they told me water bottles had to be purchased—it had become quite a norm after almost three weeks in the U.S. I picked up a few bottles, went to my room, and crashed for the night, both mentally and physically spent.
Day 24 – I started the day with a quick breakfast and headed off for a client meeting. It turned out to be a productive and warm conversation, mostly centered around expressing mutual appreciation for the successful support extended during the Mexico project. It felt good to close that loop on a positive note.
After the meeting, I decided to finally address the pending Verizon connection. Since I now had the “good standing” document in hand, I was able to get the connection and a new phone. However, it couldn’t be fully activated just yet. The team suggested porting my existing number—something I was relieved about, as that number is already widely shared. The only catch: I’d have to wait for a transfer PIN from Nextiva, which could take a few days. In the meantime, they set up the phone with a temporary number and gave me a quick tutorial, especially since this was my first Apple device.
I also tried visiting Citi Bank in Detroit, hoping to sort out some banking matters—but unfortunately, the location only had an ATM and no full-service branch. So that attempt was futile, and I returned disappointed.
Later in the afternoon, I was advised to visit Belle Isle Park—a 982-acre island park located in the Detroit River. Developed in the late 19th century, Belle Isle includes several islets and sits right near the U.S.-Canada border. It’s known for its scenic gardens, aquarium, and historic sites. However, by the time I arrived, everything was closed except for the open park area. Since I had come all the way, I decided to walk around, soak in the atmosphere, and take a few pictures.
To my surprise, it took a while for Uber to arrive, and I started to worry I might get stranded. When the driver—a lady—finally arrived, she casually asked why I was there alone, mentioning that the area wasn’t very safe and often had issues with drug activity and frequent police patrols. I was completely unaware of this and told her I was just there to explore the park. She kindly dropped me off at Somerset Collection, a luxury mall, so I could spend some time indoors.
At Somerset, I visited Chico’s, though I didn’t find anything that caught my eye. I did spot Diptyque—a brand I hadn’t seen in a standalone store before—so I took some time to browse through their collection. To end the evening, I dined at The Capital Grille, one of the city’s top restaurants, and treated myself to a delicious meal.
Feeling content and a little more relaxed, I headed back to the hotel and called it a night.
Day 25 – Originally, I was supposed to be in Washington, D.C. for Aaksh’s surprise party. However, since Aparna was preoccupied caring for her aging father, I didn’t receive any updates or calls from her end. Sensing that she was understandably too caught up, I decided to stay back in Detroit and make the most of my weekend exploring the city.
The Filipino Uber driver I met earlier kindly offered to take me around, and our first stop was the Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation in Dearborn. The Henry Ford is an internationally renowned cultural institution that immerses visitors in the stories of American ingenuity, innovation, and industry over the past 300 years. It’s a designated National Historic Landmark and home to several major attractions: the Henry Ford Museum, Greenfield Village, the Ford Rouge Factory Tour, a Giant Screen Theater, and the Benson Ford Research Center.
We began with the Ford Rouge Factory Tour—the very facility where Ford vehicles are manufactured. These tours are only offered during weekends or holidays when the factory isn’t operational, as one car rolls off the production line every 55 seconds—leaving no room for distractions during working hours. The tour kicked off with a series of short films covering the history of innovation and then moved on to the actual factory walkthrough, which was fascinating.
Afterward, I stepped out for a garden walk, where I learned about beekeeping, apple orchards, and sustainable gardening practices. I then made my way to Greenfield Village, choosing to take the train tour to save time. However, I hadn’t anticipated the heavy presence of pollen, and without a mask—which I’d forgotten in the hotel—I ended up with severe sneezing and a runny nose. It honestly felt like walking into a cloud of allergens, and the irritation was intense.
Later, I visited the Henry Ford Museum, including a stop at the intriguing Dymaxion House, but I skipped the Giant Screen Theater due to time constraints. I had one more place to revisit—Belle Isle Park. Since I had missed the gardens the previous day, I returned hoping to explore them. While the aquarium was unfortunately closed (they shut by 4 PM, which I hadn’t known), I was glad to finally walk through the gardens and capture some beautiful photos.
From there, we headed to the Detroit Riverwalk, or the Corniche, which borders Canada. The view was beautiful, and I took some more pictures before moving on to the General Motors headquarters, where several cars were on public display. Our last stop was Comerica Park, home to Detroit’s baseball stadium. Unfortunately, it was already closed by the time we arrived, but we walked around the area before I was dropped back at the hotel.
Since I had an early morning flight, I decided to stay up and catch up on some pending work. Around 1:00 AM, I realized I had run out of drinking water, so I went to the front desk to request a couple of bottles. To my utter disbelief, they refused, citing that they were conducting an audit and couldn’t process any transactions. Even when I explained that my card was already linked to the room and offered to sign a note or have them charge it later, they were unwilling to budge.
I was truly shocked. In the hospitality industry—especially in a hotel of this standard—this kind of customer service is inexcusable. A simple request for water turned into a lesson in rigidity and lack of empathy. It was hard not to draw comparisons with Indian hospitality, where service staff would go out of their way to help, especially in the middle of the night.
Left with no choice, I had to resort to tap water, even though I wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. I was frustrated, tempted to give them a lesson in basic customer service, but I chose to let it go and got back to finishing my work.
Day 26 – Checked out of the hotel in Detroit, still upset over how rigid and unhelpful the staff had been the previous night. I made my way to the airport, with a layover in Charlotte, and finally reached JFK by afternoon.
Even though I had booked a hotel supposedly close to the airport—since my return flight to India was scheduled for the next morning—it turned out to be a bit farther than expected. After nearly an hour-long drive through New York traffic, I reached Holiday Inn Express, Maspeth.
I stepped out briefly for dinner at a Mexican restaurant next door, had a quick meal, and returned to the room. Completely drained, I crashed for a short while before starting my usual routine of getting things sorted for the next day.
Around midnight, I realized that my flight was a bit later than expected and that I had already scheduled the Emirates chauffeur pick-up. So, I went down to the front desk and cancelled the cab booking, deciding instead to stay up and continue working—something I usually do while traveling to avoid dozing off before an early flight.
While browsing online, I noticed a promotion for an upgrade to First Class. Since I was battling a bad cold and preferred the comfort and privacy of a closed cabin, I decided to go ahead and book the upgrade. With that done, I returned to my work, trying to make the most of the remaining quiet hours before heading to the airport.
Day 27 – Even though I was tempted to extend my stay by a week and join Sur in Texas to meet Ronak and Jeelna—whom I had also missed connecting with last year—I decided against it. Given the current regulations, where staying beyond 30 days could trigger mandatory registration, deportation, or other legal complications, I didn’t want to take any chances. I had to apologize and promised to make it up to them next time. So, I stuck to my original plan and prepared to exit the country within the 28-day window.
My Emirates chauffeur arrived on time, and I headed to the airport, expecting a smoother return with my First Class upgrade. Only at check-in did I realize that the upgrade was only for the second leg—from Dubai to Chennai, not the long-haul JFK to Dubai segment. That would have made much more sense, given the duration.
Unfortunately, they informed me that no seats were available for the JFK–Dubai leg, and since the upgrade was non-refundable, I had little choice but to go ahead with the booking as is.
I was still battling a runny nose and cold, and the discomfort made the flight even harder. I took a tablet to ease the symptoms, but had to frequently request hot water from the cabin crew. With a crowded Business Class cabin, even in Emirates, getting prompt service wasn’t always easy. Still, the crew did their best within limits.
The flight felt long and exhausting. Flying when you’re unwell is never easy, and despite trying to catch up on sleep, I couldn’t rest completely. I kept reminding myself that I was almost at the end of this intense journey—a trip that had pushed every limit, physically and emotionally.
Day 28 – Homebound and Heart Full
I finally landed in Dubai, and it was an immense relief. Holding a First Class ticket for this final stretch turned out to be the best decision I could’ve made. Though my runny nose had subsided, I still felt drained. The moment I entered the First Class Lounge, everything began to change.
The hot shower in the lounge was pure bliss—it washed away the exhaustion of the past few days. After changing into fresh clothes, I felt human again. For breakfast, I chose their à la carte avocado salmon toast with a soothing green tea—exactly what I needed to reset both body and mind.
The lounge also offered a complimentary 15-minute massage, and I opted for a foot massage, which worked wonders. Rejuvenated, I sat in their business center, sipping green tea, comfortably placed near the coffee and tea station where hot water was just an arm’s reach away. I even resumed a few work calls, finally feeling energized and at peace.
Although First Class boarding is usually direct from the lounge, there was a last-minute gate change, so I had to rush. But the short-haul flight to Chennai—just under 4 hours—was worth every penny. The service was impeccable. I wasn’t hungry enough to enjoy anything beyond their signature caviar and requested the crew for hot green tea and declined the rest, though the crew was gracious and attentive and asked if she could get something else.
Upon arrival in Chennai, I breezed through fast-track immigration, collected my luggage almost instantly, and was out in under 15 minutes. The Emirates chauffeur dropped me home, and for the first time in a month, I felt truly relieved and grounded.
As I stepped into my home, one thought echoed in my mind:
“No matter where you go in the world, there’s no place like India.”
There’s a unique warmth, chaos, and familiarity here that no polished system abroad can replace. And yes—to finally eat real food again instead of those bland hot dogs (which, frankly, tasted like plastic to me) was a joy I can’t explain.
Proud to be back. Proud of my country. And grateful for every lesson this trip brought.