Another Flight to Delhi

I did not realize Christmas falls on today

Secretly I hope for an indefinite delay

Spending the rest of my life at the airport

There are enough chips and cokes and coffees to last me twenty lifetimes

In the far distance the rugged mountains loom grey

It is a pathetic hemmed-in village, cold and cramped and cursed

“I saw you on the same flight two months ago,” the retired old couple say

Our enemies must be kept at bay

But how, I wonder

“Can those patients just purchase those drugs on e-bay?”

“No. Most of them live on the dole.”

The fuselage of the plane is parched under the ruthless sun

It is another misty day in Delhi, according to AIR Delhi Indraprastha

In the winter the valley is always heavily polluted

I recall someone once told me nonchalantly

Life is an endless relay – but the torch I am carrying ran out of paraffin a decade ago

On the flight I spot a slim girl

Preoccupied with her thesis on the works of Arundhati Roy – or, Mumba Devi

In no way she could be a shaman too

The isle to the lavatory proves too long

I jump to the closing chapters of The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down

At last Lia’s father understands Neil indeed cares about his daughter

They find a common language – I wish I could find one with my stupid and shameless and spinless colleagues

The girl asks why on earth I am here in this metal container

The fact that I sort of belong to Kunming Buyers Club mesmerizes her

She is at university in Delhi – nowadays everyone has a degree from a foreign country

Everyone on the flight has his version of India

No one can win any random argument

Li got sick and subsequently misdiagnosed by a local hospital

Han could not resist the temptation of cheap sex

To them India is a mix of rumors – they get to know all the news through the grapevine

The happiest thing? – to complete his task and get his ass out of the subcontinent

Where the air is dirty, the water is poisonous, and death is not the end

In Varanasi bodies are consumed in flames – the soul is taken into the next cycle and the flesh is eaten by the catfish

The girl passes the customs quickly, but I am stuck

And she is there waiting, with anxiety shown on her egg-shaped face

A dilapidated taxi is the only protection I have from the dust and heat

The wizened driver just keeps mum

I am probably the last fare – he will be on a long vacation to Kerala

On the large billboard outside the terminal

A black-skinned middle-aged curly-haired woman smiles with an Apple watch on her left wrist

Against a backdrop of the skyline of Kerala defined by palm trees

What a contrast to that shabby Saket – the regular rendezvous for me and the drug dealer

The receptionists will spend twenty minutes examining my passport

A small statue of Ganesh so proud showing off the saffron garland around his neck

Grey-feathered pudgy pigeons are flying low over the roof

I am afraid I am breaking up with myself