Delayed

How many times did your flight get delayed in life? Twice in my case, so far. But both were quite extreme cases. The first delay happened at the beginning of 2018 only. I was on my way to Ahmedabad from Bagdogra. It was a one-stop flight via Delhi. I was supposed to reach at ten in the night. Instead I was forced to take a long detour from Delhi to Bombay then arrived at Ahmedabad at four o' clock in the morning. I wouldn't complain. It was one of the best adventures of my life. And that was not only because of the date I had at Starbucks at Indira Gandhi International Hawai Adda (For some reason I love the Hindi translation of airport). IIM campus is quite far from Ahmedabad airport and that auto ride in the early dawn was chilling. (Literally. It was a late January night) I did not like the city but sitting inside an almost flying auto with paranoia rising in the stomach despite knowing that Narendra Modi's state was quite popular when it came to woman safety is the kind of feeling my life is all about.

The second delay took place exactly two weeks ago. This time it was not a very pleasant experience. I hate going to Calcutta. Sounds horrific, I know. I AM a horrible person. Honestly, even though I don't claim to lose my sleep over missing my parents I do feel like seeing them sometimes. But I always dread going to Calcutta. That city brings out the worst in me. That house makes me morbid. And this time it was not even a voluntary trip. My asshole fucktard of office had summoned us for some fuckall meeting. So the whole time I was feeling like a sacrificial lamb. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind getting killed off accidentally. I mean it would end all this fucking misery. But going through it all while being fully alive? I don't know where hell or heaven are. For me hell is my own bloody life. So it was that fateful morning. I had just woken up with a bad hangover. The bad news was already there on my phone; waiting to pounce on me. My AirAsia flight was six hours late. The original time was at 6.10 in the evening so you do the math. I was already going half crazy thinking about the pending work for the upcoming programme at work. Not to mention the mere thought of four days I would have to spend in Calcutta, which turned out to be more awful than I had imagined. I guess it was my gut feeling that had warned me. And this time I was on a cab in the middle of the night in a city whose proud mention comes right after Delhi in terms of women safety. On the second day of the meeting I cried so much at night that next day I was looking as if I was stung by an entire colony of bees.

Sitting at Calcutta terminal waiting for a flight out of that city always makes me feel better, if not exactly happy. Except for the time I had to catch flight to Chennai. That was the worst flight of my life so far.

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