Back in the comforts of my home in Bhopal I sit back on my broken bed and go through the pages of books that is called life.
A trip which I thought would be over in 5 days took more than 15 days and when I finally left Bangalore I was a happy soul. My medicals were over and I was duly certified as medically fit for the defense services.
Earlier I had planned to take a train to Bhopal but just at the last moment I decided to surprise my mom and sister and I boarded a flight to Delhi. The two hours and 30 minutes flight was over in a jiffy as I slept for most period of the high flying journey.
It was 1.30 AM when I landed at Delhi airport.
A chilly breeze swept me as my muffler desperately tried to keep up the fight against the cold wind. Nothing much had changed at the Indira Gandhi airport except the old terminal which was not there. The terminal where many a so called lovely moments were spent was being dismantled to make way for a new one.
Have heard and seen many a love tales that were construed under the comfort of the small building. The rows of red metallic seats with a cold touch, if they could, would tell you that how innocent love-smitten couples would build castles and huts of a love filled future.
And the same red cold will also tell you about how many of those dreams were never fulfilled.
As I sat cuddled in the warm cafe in the midst of a not so dull crowd waiting for my cab to arrive, I went back into the past and thought of the times I came here before. And I realized that deceit kills even those moments of love which might have been innocent and which might have come from heart.
Sitting there, I saw a guy who was struggling to face a truth which he should have accepted a long time back. A guy was pondering over the turn of events that had transpired over a period of time. And I also saw a man who inspite of knowing that he is unlikely to succeed kept on trying until his every belief was broken. A man whose trust was broken and his every commitment laid to rest.
The temporary state of reliving the past was broken when I saw a long last friend who had dreamt of becoming an air stewardess. And there she was all charming and smiling in a red attire. Some dreams are destined to be fulfilled, maybe all of them but for lack of commitment.
Old times and ancient moments were brought into the present as we talked about a magical past.
The taxi ride that I took from the airport to Dwarka to surprise my mom was far more exciting than I could expect. First the taxi broke down in between and then my cellphone left me. Ultimately it was the turn of Delhi police to act as saviour and it was they who gave me a lift. The jat accent coupled with the cheap jokes made for a good ride as the jeep moved at a slow yet smooth speed.
It was 5 in the morning when I knocked on my brother in laws' door.
Were they surprised ...?
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