this is not a poem..

excerpts from the travel diary-

It looks like the plane has landed.

Ting!

People get up in a hurry and start to leave. The aisle quickly fills up. Where are all these people rushing to?
Me, happily sitting in my seat, not in a hurry, no, not at all !

“Chalo, bete?”, the aunty next to me says, already on her feet with her purse in her hands. What the hell is SHE in such a hurry for?!

I put on my headphones and pretend not to hear her. Auntyji looks shocked. She stands for sometime wondering what to do. I’m quivering inside.

Looking back, I wonder what made me behave that way. Normally I’m a very nice and polite person. Maybe it was the bloody Mary’s that caused the irritation and fearlessness.

She stands for sometime wondering what to do. She might even be saying something, but I can’t hear her over ‘audioslave’ blaring through my headphones. She touches me on my shoulder. I don’t react. I almost can’t control my laughter, wondering what Auntyji is going to try next! He he he! A half-smile forms on my lips, but I quickly swallow it down.

Finally she gives up, and sits down, staring at me with ferocious eyes. If looks could kill, I would have died right then! I’m just glad she’s alone on the flight or there would be some angry Punjabi relative she would have called. Not that I would have cared.
I’m in the mood for a nice argument today.

I suppose she must be wondering what kind of kid I am, but frankly, I couldn’t care less.
She should have figured that out when I was having all those cocktails, and if she hadn’t given me all those disapproving stares, she wouldn’t be in this position right now.

I wait till everyone else has gone, and one of the cute airhostesses comes with a fake smile and tells me I have to leave now. I pick up my bag and leave without looking back at Auntyji. When I reach the gateway, I look back for a final glance. She still looks very pissed off. He he.

I look around in the airport pondering what to do next. I finally decide to buy an over-priced sandwich since I’m pretty hungry.
How is it possible for a tiny sandwich to cost 80 Rs.?
Anyway, I ask the guy at the shop whether there are any bars or pubs at this airport.” No”, he replies with a smile. I return the smile, he returns the change, and I grab my sandwich and leave.

Why would they not have alcohol in the airport? Maybe they don’t want the pilots to get drunk. I can imagine it now. Signs at the airport saying ‘don’t drink and fly.’

I decide to go and get my luggage finally.
On my way to the exit, I spot Auntyji! sitting on a chair with a disappointed look. She looks kind of sad, looking here and there for someone. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
Then I remember those disgusting looks she was giving me during the flight, and the anger comes rushing back. You shouldn’t judge people so easily, lady.

Anyways, I guess who ever was supposed to pick her up must be really late. Well, I’m sure whoever it is (husband/son/daughter/random relative), they’re going to get some nice hate-filled words from Auntyji’s mouth. She was already pissed off at me, and now she’s positively furious!
She catches me looking at her and quickly lowers her gaze. Wow!
So now SHE’S embarrassed!
Wanted to get out in a hurry but turns out she has to wait some more.
Way to go, Auntyji!


Grinning to myself, I walk outside the exit into the glaring sunlight.