India, Nov. 10 -- Finally, Japan got its first woman Prime Minister with Sanae Takaichi taking charge on October 21. Her election brought back memories from 2002 when I led a group of educational administrators from India to the beautiful land of sakura (cherry blossom trees). At the inauguration, the leader of the Indian group was asked to introduce 'himself'. Amid the commotion that followed, walked up a woman, yours truly. A warm 'konnichiwa (hello in Japanese)' broke the ice. After the Japanese dance performance in gorgeous kimonos (traditional attire) and our introductory performances, we invited the hosts to join the free-flowing bhangra-cum-disco. Everyone participated happily and it set the ball rolling for the next 27 days. The initial reaction to a woman leading a delegation was a revelation. The way Japan had proudly risen from the ashes of the second World War was admirable. The world was in awe of its economy, technology, discipline and standard of living. And Japan was in awe of an Indian delegation led by a woman almost a quarter of a century ago! The delegation looked forward to sharing the Indian way of life, while soaking in all it could of a country and people of which little was known to the outside world. On Day 1, I stopped in my tracks on seeing two women bending forward, greeting me from across the street! And the sing-song, "Arigato gozaimasu (thank you very much)", initiated us into the Japanese culture of gratitude. The discipline and fitness of the people was inspiring, too. We watched in awe as 78-year-olds played volleyball. One evening, lots of masked men and women on the streets got me worried. Must be an epidemic outbreak, I thought, not knowing that one sneeze was all it took, for their masked glory. And, the rest of the world waited for Covid! The fashionable, matcha (green) tea in a cafe today is not as delightful as in the Japanese tea ceremony, with its traditional preparation and presentation. As far as food goes, we survived mainly on a steamed/boiled Japanese diet. The mirror reflected slimmer versions of us. But, we, the butter chicken people, had also carried cooked food packets from India. The pre-cooked 'dal makhni' helped break many a barrier, particularly during our home stay. However, our dainty coordinator, Keiko San, did not eat with us. We realised that women did not eat much as extra pounds would affect their marital prospects. Also, most women were in secretarial and teaching jobs. Kabuki, the Japanese theatre with song, dance, drama, elaborate costumes and makeup had all male actors. Hence, the celebratory tone on Takaichi shattering the political glass ceiling for Japanese women. The efforts to promote, and imbibe, the Japanese language had a rather hilarious outcome when my friend, Dr Geeta, who conscientiously mugged up the English-Japanese booklet during our stay, confronted two youngsters in a lift in Osaka. After she rattled off half the booklet, one of the visibly shocked men summoned up enough courage to ask her: "Yeh kaun si bhasha hai? Aap kahaan se hain? Hum toh Nepal se hain (Which language is this? Where are you from? We're from Nepal). Sayonara!"...