Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Domestic Airport to Home – Via International Airport

This is an atypical incident that happened to my wife two weeks before. She landed at the domestic airport in Kathmandu, after attending the marriage ceremony of one of her closest dear friend at Pokhara. On the same plane was an Indian lady. After they landed, the lady asked my wife about where the International Airport is, when they were at the baggage reception area. To this my wife said, “It’s nearby, you can walk and I can help you reach there as I am also taking the same route”. The lady started walking with my wife. Both were not accompanied by heavy baggage, an exception when it comes to females.

After a while they were out to the taxi stand, and my wife thought of walking to the ring road, about 400 meters from the domestic airport. The reason for the walk is that you can take a cheaper exit (only Rs 10 in the city bus) after you reach the city traffic, which otherwise costs you not less than Rs 300 to reach home. Prior to walking on her own she thought of guiding the lady towards the International Airport as assured. The International Airport is only about 200 meters from the domestic taxi stand and is on the way to the main exit from the airport premises to the city traffic. Sticking on her commitment, she tried to point the direction to the lady but to her shock the lady without any hint went forward to the taxi drivers and asked “International Airport?” Not to any surprise lot many swarmed in for this easy catch with no trap. She asked for the fare, and the reply was “ONLY Rs 200 MADAM”. She some sort of bargained with an unusual English accent to the numeric’s, and it was Rs 150 at the end. The lady jumped into the cab, and my wife felt like being fooled. She later said that she was rather more amused (than fooled) by the way the lady didn’t bothered her presence and suggestion about the location of the International Airport only 5 minutes before. She felt pity for the over smart lady. The next moment she thought, “None of my business. It’s her money”. But her thoughts were becoming satiric for the lady. “Nice bargain!!” is what my wife thought: “Rs 75 for every 100 meters”.

It’s about 5 KM’s to our place from the airport. She walked to the main traffic, boarded the city bus, and paid Rs 10 for the fare. She didn't bother to saw her student identity card, which could have earned 45% concession to the fare. I should not haggle with the khalaasi for such a nominal fare, is what she thought.  She smiled. Not because she saved a silly but straightforward calculation of more than Rs 3500, but thinking why people are reluctant to believe, after they ask someone. Or it is just that they need to tighten and tune things up somewhere? Or it’s just a show off to a complete stranger? Deep down her the real reason for the smile was that she felt proud for not bargaining the fare.

It was raining outside, and the destination was about near. She searched for the umbrella in her hand bag. The bus once again verified the three "laws of motion", came to a halt and the khalaasi asked for “if anyone to clamber down at Balkumari”? She acknowledged the call and climbed down. She opened the umbrella and as always, like a kid who hardly obeys to the primary instructions of the parents, some metal spines flipped the other way. Raindrops hitting on her, she closed it, a bit annoyed. She reshapes the cone with cuddled fingers over the spine. She tried to open again. This time it came out in shape an umbrella is supposed to be. Just like kids who need to be kindled before they can be convinced. The city bus was still waiting more than normal, because of unsatisfactory passenger turnover, courtesy to the unanticipated winter rain. The khalaasi blaring with all his might: “Saatdobaato, Saatdobaato, Balkhu, Kalanki, Kalanki”. She paced her way towards home. Gravity and the resultant phenomenon of surface tension helped the raindrops beat her toes. The open sandals were never going to rescue, many a times the umbrella lacked the length of her strides and the breeze helped the raindrops dodge the rain shade to find the target.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

The Tunnel, The Train, The Rucksack Full of Responsibilities, The TITAN and The Alarm

I saw a light at the end of a tunnel. A long one. I was hoping, just hoping it was not a train. But I was sure hopes will not keep me alive. It was on the rail tracks I was walking, and you do not find subways in the tunnel to dodge the speeding train. I don’t know what made me walk without alternatives in this narrow tunnel. I do not bother to bother. I thought to run for LIFE. But what is the point now? I had started to find LIFE, a long time before. But always in vain. What I always met was an interesting creature that portrayed itself as LIFE and was full of gossip. I always believed the falsity of this mocker. I was sure it was not the real LIFE. 

Then, a fight started. A duel between two parts of my inner self. One was advocating “Don’t die before you meet LIFE”. The other said “Bull shit – Bloody Philosophy… Just Run!!” I thought both are at each other's throats for the same cause, to live. The former seemed a bit more possessive about meeting LIFE. The echoes of my inner conscience, the two of them, were hitting my ear hard. I could not decide what to do. I could not find the right vocabulary within, to think of what state I was in. I submitted to the light. Death is inevitable now is what I thought. The best of any avoidance algorithm I learnt in my computing classes was Ostrich Algorithm. So, I closed my eyes. I thought of every possible dream I had nurtured since my childhood. The train will roll me out into the tracks with all my dreams bleeding. The pain and suffering will all go in a moment. Who cares the instant pain that will be caused by the speeding train?

I than realized that the sound of the engine was fading away. I only saw the light but never relied on the other sense of sound. The sound sounded deceiving to me, not to believe. I opened my eyes, the ones which I believed more despite the myopia. I saw the light and it was disappearing in the big open. The tiny speck merged into the bright daylight and vanished with the muffle of the engine. I checked myself. A slight pain was there on the back and the neck. My rucksack full of responsibility was still with me, safe. I realized now that when I was following the dark end of the tunnel the train had crashed on me from the back.  And the light which I saw was not the front light, but the tail light. But I had survived. Survival for the fittest?? Theory of natural selection?? Or sheer luck?? Don’t know exactly what made me survive this roll out. I tried pacing my way towards the bright end of the tunnel, ambling. The birds chirping, the sun so bright but warm, the air so fresh. I breathed in, I breathed out. I did this a couple of times voluntarily. My chest felt free. Free from a congestion which was bothering me for a while. I felt like I am into a new LIFE. I raised my left wrist to my chest. The palm facing the sky, I looked at the watch. It was the TITAN, with white base and rectangular silver colored dial with black leather strap. The second hand, the fastest of the three was not moving. Don’t know about the others. I felt sad. This was the one which my brother gifted me from his initial salary savings. Gave a jerk to the wrist. The second hand started running back to LIFE.

The high pitched sound of the alarm made me awake. I never believe setting songs in the alarm tone in my cell phone. You happen to enjoy them rather. I searched for the snooze button. I smiled. What an unusual dream it was. Thought of it for a while. What was it? A LIFE saver? The snooze timer went off in 5 minutes. The same irritating sound, this time more noisy. I clutched the cell phone in my fist. I heard nothing now. It was dawn but dark outside, as always is any winter day. A reason enough for me not to get up, I curled more comfortably into my quilt.