Airport Chakkar

Dear passengers boarding flight TW437 for Chicago, please note that your flight has been delayed by an hour due to change in weather conditions. We deeply regret the inconvenience, kindly bear with us.

There wasn’t even the slightest change in weather conditions, but this announcement had created a drastic change in my mood. Though delays were a genetic trait of all flights in Chhatrapati Shivaji Airport, this fact did not stop me from mentally reeling some of the choicest swear words my vocabulary could boast of.

Tuesday night. 9 pm. Christmas eve. And here I was, being forced to celebrate this occasion by slumping myself in one of the seats outside the flight gate and assessing if my patience levels could break a new record. The only thing that could still make me smile in this exasperating situation was the poster across the airport lounge. After all, it was one of my better pictures.

Much as I hate boasting, I had to admit that I was looking simply beautiful in it. It seemed as if Lakme’s cherry lip gloss had been made for my lips, my figure could have made an hour glass squirm, my hair was looking glossier than the poster paper, my eyes were shining brighter than all the Christmas lights decorating the airport, and my smile….my smile was the reason my poster was receiving more attention than the flight indicator board.

As I was charmingly admiring myself thus, a deep voice from nowhere broke my reverie,

“Your picture doesn’t do you justice.”

I tore my gaze away from myself to see a young man sprawled in the seat before me.  He had golden green eyes, a fair complexion and the shaggiest hairstyle I had ever seen. His muscular physique was apparent despite the loose T-shirt he had worn and his cologne had to be the most sensuous thing I had ever smelt. He was travelling very light but seemed to be carrying an excess baggage of attitude. I could only conclude that he was defining the word ‘hot’ much better than the Oxford Dictionary.

 Five years of modelling had taught me to accept compliments with a bored pride though I still enjoyed the same heady delight in receiving them. Therefore, I only gave him a stiff smile in acknowledgement.

Before he could say anything more, we were joined by a third passenger. He was a bespectacled young man of about 6’’2. He had short brown hair, sharp angular features, a wheatish complexion and was clean shaven. He had worn a simple checked shirt but highly branded jeans and was sporting a scientific watch on his wrist. He was obviously a frequent traveller as he was carrying only three things- his boarding pass for a Toronto flight, an Apple i-Pad, and lots of indifference. If he had noticed my poster…..or me, for that matter….he didn’t show it, and silently sat down a seat away.

I went back to admiring my poster, Mr. Specs opened his i-Pad probably to work, while the hunk constantly shuttled his gaze between my poster and me. After some time, he seemed to have had enough of the silence and broke the ice.

“Arjun” he said, introducing himself amicably.

“Sarah” I replied politely.

We both turned to Mr Specs expectantly. After what seemed like eternity, he replied monotonously,

“Siddharth”

“Since we have so much time at hand and nothing to do, it would be criminal not to converse” said Arjun. It was pretty obvious from his tone that his idea of ‘we’ meant him and me while Mr. Specs was expected to mind his own business.

“What do you want to converse about?” I asked Arjun.

“You seem to be the most appealing topic I could think of.”

“I was hoping you would come up with a better opening line”

“Opening lines are for flirts….I’m an admirer”

Highly embarrassed by such outrageous guts, I looked at Siddharth to see his reaction. He was completely engrossed in his i-Pad and was oozing out generous doses of disinterest. I decided that if I was going to be spending an hour with such company, I might as well make it worth my while, so I decided to play along with Arjun.

“So Arjun…..judging by your looks I’m sure you must be having a lot of admirers too.”

“What’s the use if you aren’t one of them !”

“Oh I’ve become a fan.”

“You lie as beautifully as you smile.”

I smiled and he continued, “May I buy you a coffee?”

I refused politely. Contrary to my judgement of him, Arjun did possess a fractional amount of politeness and he enquired of Siddharth if he would like a coffee. Without looking up from his i-Pad, Siddharth replied,

“No thank you”

Arjun looked at him condescendingly and said, “Hmmm…..I think you are one of those guys who doesn’t eat outside at all”

“You thought right.”

“But home-made food doesn’t quite have the right flavour”

Siddharth did not even bother replying at this.

I decided to fill up the awkward silence that had settled in, so I turned to Arjun and asked

“So what do you do when you are not busy admiring me Arjun?”

“Oh I own a chain of eateries in South Bombay….you must have heard of the Panama Group” said Arjun airily.

“Who hasn’t”

“Oh I’m sure Siddharth hasn’t as he is a devotee of homemade food.” said Arjun, smirking at me.

Siddharth continued with his favourite activity of keeping silent while Arjun continued to be full of himself. Turning to me he remarked,

“Due to business constraints, I am compelled to live in South Bombay you know….a small duplex in Cuffe Parade…..after all….how much space does a bachelor need” he said modestly.

I suppressed my smile at this direct information about his social status and indirect information about his marital status and said,

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“If I had met you earlier, by now probably the answer to that question would be yes.”

This was too much even for Siddharth who was diverted from his i-Pad for a moment and was trying to maintain a straight face. 

I got irritated at this overconfidence and said coolly,

“What makes you so sure that I would have agreed?”

“I would never have given you a reason to refuse”

“Your hopes really fly high”

“I will even make the horses fly if you so much as wish it”

“Right now, the only flying object I’m interested in is my plane…..and it is just not flying.

“Where are you headed?”

“Chicago”

“So am I !!! …..Are you going for a vacation?

“I’m going there for work.”

“So am I !!! …..Where are you staying?”

“The Hilton.”

“So am I !!!”

I strongly suspected that the last ‘So am I !!!’ had been decided on the spot, but I still maintained an expression of surprise.

“These amazing coincidences demand that we meet on a date in Chicago” said Arjun with a disarming smile.

“Now how can I refuse such flattery” I said sardonically but Arjun didn’t get the sarcasm.

Now substantially smug, Arjun looked at Siddharth and said,” Would you ever leave an opportunity to cater to one of the most beautiful women in the world?”

By now, I wasn’t even feeling embarrassed and Siddharth, now mentally aware that he was sitting next to the most talkative man in the world, assured him cordially that he would never leave such an opportunity.

Just as Arjun was loudly wondering whether we should meet up at the Italian restaurant at the Hilton or at the Chinese buffet across the Hilton, a crisp voice on the airport speaker system made an announcement requesting passengers of Toronto flight TW523 to board the plane.

Siddharth finally seemed to come into the present and looked up from his i-Pad. As a reflex action, I looked at him.

“You’ve not forgotten your wallet I hope” I said unsurely.

“No I remembered it this time” he said easily.

“And your phone?”

“You know it’s always in my pocket.”

“I do wish you’d carry a small bag at least.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Remember to text me when you land.”

“Have I ever forgotten?”

Siddharth had already risen from his seat. I got up and hugged him tightly. For the first time in the entire evening, he smiled…..and for the first time in the entire evening I was happy my flight was delayed.

“I’ll see you on Sunday” I said smiling widely.

“Take care and have a safe journey” he said pecking me lightly on the cheek.

Siddharth then turned around to Arjun, who looked as if a hurricane had just hit him,  and said boyishly,

“Enjoy your date with the most beautiful woman in the world” and as an afterthought, he added, ’’but do come over to my place to have ‘homemade’ food sometime…..you see….the most beautiful woman in the world’s cooking is as beautiful as her looks” he said grinning.

Collecting his i-Pad and boarding pass, my husband,with that perfect nonchalant expression I had fallen in love with, winked at me mischieviously, and walked towards his flight gate with an attitude that defined the word ‘hot’ a million times better than Arjun did.