The fog looks dense and I am in a flight trying to land. I should be feeling anxious, but I have given up trying to please the shoulds and am trying to focus on the “oh, wows” of life. So, here I am… ensconced in my precious window seat looking out at the wondrous thick white sheet spread below the aircraft, as far as the eye can see.
Having discovered the trick to keep the google maps showing one’s current location even when the phone is on airplane mode, I know that we are circling over Delhi’s airspace like an eagle, trying to get our head through some gap in the fog. Good luck with that, I think to myself, as a minute after announcing the descent, the pilot zooms away from the gravitational pull! “Ekshooz me”, I feel like informing the pilot, “Sir, you got the “a” confused with the “de” here. 😄 He must have his reasons, I sigh, adjust my expectations by 355.96 degrees and accept what the universe is offering me at the moment: Whiteness. And doze off.
Eons later, I come back to the feeling of being suspended in midair and find myself staring at the bleached veil (pun intended) stretched below. The imagination kicks in and I see the flight being diverted and landing in Jaipur, or even in Mumbai (like almost 22 years ago). However, my fantasy is stopped before I mentally take out my passport to check into the airport hotel, as the elegant lady (dressed unusually for peak summer) next to me gets a personal greeting and regards from the pilot (seems to be some sort of a pilot instructor) and I think of striking a conversation, just because. But the glimpse of the endless ivory overwhelms me again and draws me in for another nap.
Seemingly, one second later, we have just landed (Arigatou with a proper bow to the pilots!) and I look in disbelief at the surrounding fog, wondering HOW we made it. “Let us focus now on the What!” I cajole my wrongly focussed self, and put on my muffler, cap and a thick jacket to prepare to leave the plane’s warm womb and to be welcomed into the wintry world of Delhi.
The elegant lady has magically produced a long jacket from her bag and I feel a little less chilly looking at her. Even the glance at another weather rebel at the airport, dressed in what seems to be a cotton pyjama set in the sea of jackets and sweaters, doesn’t get through the cozy thoughts I have woven around me.
Now I’m ready for Dilli ki sardi. 😊
