Part III- Flashback

I was tired and sleepy after a 3hr delayed flight from Delhi to Mumbai. It was my new job and first time I was out on a business tour- a tour where your only business is to rip off your company in all the possible way right from getting sponsored your food, roaming charges, rickshaw bills to the shampoo you steal from the hotel while checking out even though its free. My parents were very proud that finally they can have some peaceful time at home when someone else is bearing the cost and facing the embarrassment of stolen shampoo. But still with all the excitement they came to pick me up at the airport. I just don’t understand the fetish of Indian parents coming to pick their kids at the airport even if the kid is returning from Goa. They will hug you for 1 minute and as if the hug had some magical powers, your parents undergo into a split personality. You are crticised for what you are wearing, for the flight you choose, your hotel name, room tariff even though its company sponsored, what you ate in flight, ate or not, why you look so tired, was there anything wrong in the trip, download of family gossip when you were away…all at the same time and same place…airport!! And you keep wondering where did all the love go after that hug.

Since I’ve already had the experience of all this, I was well prepared for it. I did not bother on combing my hair or checking on the spread kajal as I was to go back home only that too with my parents who would anyways comment on my looks. Plus it would give a look that I m very tired as if I only navigated the aircraft and would be saved from the bombardment of queries. With my this stupid solid plan in my mind and one stroller in my hand I walked out from the exit door of the airport looking for my parents.

Before I could spot them, amidst of all the eager faces, bored taxi drivers, uniformed sophisticated hotel pick up drivers, I saw the face which skipped my heartbeat for a second and I ignored him. Was not sure if he was actually here. But I looked back at him, if he is not here still I should not miss that handsome face looking at me. To my surprise rather shock, it was him, Gaurav was here!! Wearing crisp white shirt, dark denims and ofcourse his favourite navy blue provogue belt. Traces of thick silky black hair falling on his smooth forehead. Fair complexion, high cheekbones and that perfect cupid bow shaped dark pink lips. My heart just had a bungee jump till the stomach and came back to its position when those dark lips gave me crooked smile. Has he had some facial for me or I just forgot how handsome he looked. And why is he wearing goggles at 9 in the night? Why I did not comb my hair, did not clean up the spread kajal, where is my perfume....even though he is far away, I want perfume. Thank God my brain was having so many questions in my mind and was slow enough to generate neural impulses to my hand which was about to wave at Gaurav. Before my brain could give signal to my hand, Gaurav did and indicated me to look at my right side. And there I saw a hug and numerous questions were waiting for me. Universal confusion of choosing one among parents and love.