US no more the land of plenty it was

Time was, when arriving in America meant something glorious. You left the tawdry Indian departure lounges and flew into Europe, where the airports were phoren alright, but still somehow imbued with the faint smell of the 19th century. Leaving this, you crossed the Atlantic to reach the real first world, with its spanking, shiny chrome and glass, with its grand scale dictating everything from airport architecture to the back seats of taxis to the desks you were given to use in the colleges.

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