THREAD: On this note, I want to share my US visa interview experience. Firstly, getting the documents ready. Bhai saab! Three dry runs to make sure all my papers were labelled with sticky notes. Two separate folders - financials, career, visa forms etc. (I'm extremely organised) https://twitter.com/ChelC_FrosT/status/1317453380034293760

I had spoken to a few people about the interview process - experiences were varied and dependent on the personality behind the counter. On D-Day, I had prepped for curve ball questions, mentally checking that I'd not forgotten anything and also stayed close to the embassy.

As punctuality is a passion, I was there an hour earlier. The smartest thing I did was take the 8.30am slot. I assumed it would be punctuality driven, hell no. Stringent security, except for your documents, nothing else allowed. It was good I had someone along to hold my bag.

After a 20 minute wait, there was an hour long serpentine queue to get through. I'm just grateful I wear flats everywhere. The queue leads to a number of counters. And everyone's looking for signs to which counter they'd like to get. I was extremely chilled at the start until...

It felt like I was the only one applying for a tourist visa. Everyone else seemed to be going to study or immigrate -- way more important than my holiday needs. I gulped. As you get closer to the counter, you can hear god awful questions: how much money is in your bank ac...

Why is this house not in your name, where are your bank statements, how will you support yourself if it's a 3 year program - your bank ac won't cover it, why should we let you in just because your wife is in Chicago. Some of these were kids. I was like Fuck The Whattt...

I had no property in my name, just a healthy bank balance preparing for this day, I also had mentioned I knew no one in the US, had no letter recommending me, and was an Indian emale backpacking alone, good lord I wasn't gonna get the visa. The closer I got to the line...

The tension started building. Did a few breathing exercises to calm myself. Started scouting like everyone else for who I would potentially get although it just depends on someone saying -- next! And a person pointing you to a counter. There was a kind older American gentleman...

Who was so nice to people at his counter. And next to him was this extremely sour puss, I've not-been-laid-in-forever-someone-spilled-a-drink-on-me-so-fuck-all-you-indians kinda American. He'd rejected two people's applications and the third one seemed to be heading that way too.

I was busy saying Hail Marys to get the sweet-fart at the next counter. But Jesus only saves genuine prayers it seems and not panic-induced ones lol. I admit I was in a heightened state and I had to get to numb state asap! This chap was loud, brash and told the kid to...

Collect his papers and leave with a slip which said visa denied. By then I was completely numb and took a step forward when the kid moved to leave. He did a double take and he thought he'd push his case once more so I took a step back.

The American curtly -- last time I'm asking you to get out. Next. So I walked up to the counter and said: Good morning. No response. He and I were wearing similar striped shirts. Thought of cracking a joke but sanity prevailed. I can't believe I thought of cracking a joke!

Asked me about seven questions -- your name. Where all are you going. Why. Are you planning on working -- to this I said no. He said angrily: why have you mentioned your company name then. I said if I get the visa I'd like to get the opportunity to see the NY office...

Where all have you travelled overseas. I started listing the countries -- shushhed me midway with a hand up. I was speaking at a particular pitch and suddenly I started mumbling and then stopped. When do you return. Then silence. Banging on keyboard. I'm standing mute + numb...

Finally after what seemed like decades (pretty sure I greyed in those 3 mins) he hands me a slip disinterestedly and says: congratulations, you will receive your visa according to the method you selected. You can leave. I said, like I normally do: Thank you very much...

After that he looked at me properly. Like a double take. And he said: You're welcome. I had kept my two beautiful folders out ready to defend my honour. All that effort. Unacknowledged. Tchhhhh. Collected my papers and left with a spring in my step.

The end.