𝐀𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ✔

Leaving Delhi⛼

What did I said double update!!!!!

Enjoy reading 🤗

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‘Oh! Mummaaa … Sheisso perfect!’
Neil was at the airport, the last person in the long queue heading towards the British Airways
terminal. He was struggling with the laptop hanging on my shoulder, pushing the trolley with the same
hand and talking to my mom and dad on my cell. Outside, it was still dawn. The sun would rise in a
few
minutes. And I was damn sleepy. But the cold shower in the hotel helped me wake up. And to push me
into the shower was avni, who woke me up at 4 a.m. sharp.
Back in my hometown, mom and dad were anxious to know what happened. Dad seemed to be
enjoying my anecdotes much better than his morning news, otherwise he’d never ask mom to put
my
call on the speaker while he had his morning tea. How is her family? How is her Mumma? What did
everyone say? What is their house like? And the craziest question was my mom’s: What did you
have
for lunch there?
(God! Lunch?)(Readers remember Neil's Hospitality) shweta aunty wants to know😂
‘Her family is really nice. I met her mother, her sister sunehri .
Her younger sister riya was also there. Her mom is just like you. I liked each one of them. Avni
is
a very nice girl, Mumma … And I am very happy,’ I said after which Mumma said, ‘If you are
happy,
we are happy.’
And the happier they were, the more they questioned me. It took me almost half an hour to answer
all their queries before I bade them goodbye and they wished me a happy journey.
After a little while, I felt like calling her. Though I knew she would be sleeping. While I slept in peace
for three hours in my hotel room, she was checking her cell’s clock every now and then so that she
could wake me up on time. Now it was her turn to sleep in peace. Still, I dialed her number. Because
in another couple of hours, I wouldn’t be able to call her up.
I heard her complete ring, but did not get to hear her voice.
Disappointed, I slipped my phone back in my pocket and moved ahead. People were shoving their
trolleys with one hand, their passport and tickets in the other. Some were enjoying the music flowing
out of their iPods. Indian faces, non-Indian faces. The white kids stood silently in the queue, holding
their parents’ hands. The rest of the little ones running here and there, shouting, playing, were all
Indian.
I was at the X-ray scanner, waiting for my baggage to slide out, when I heard my cell ringing. It
was her.
‘Uth gayi meri avu …?’
‘Hmm …’ And in her warm, sleepy, heavy voice she was kissing me, probably with her eyes
halfopen, still tired. Hearing the sweetness of her voice, I imagined waking up next to her, on the
same bed, some morning.
Clearing her throat, she then started talking to me.
My queue kept moving and we kept talking.
At the baggage check-in section, she was still with me. At
the immigration desk, she was still with me.
At the security check gateway, the officials separated her from me. They asked me to switch off
the cellphone before the check. But the moment I was through with it, she was with me again. I badly
wanted to talk to her, I badly needed her and I wanted to run away from the airport straight back to
her. Actually, I felt like marrying her then and there. I was so much with her for those one and half
hours that I didn’t even notice the third and final announcement, meant for me. The last words were:
‘… Boarding Flight No. AB123 to New York, please report at gate no. 2.’
I know my next statement will be hard to believe, but this is true. Miles away from me, lying on
her bed in a different city, she heard my name being announced (which I had missed, though the
speaker box was right above me), through my cellphone. Unbelievable, isn’t it?
‘neil, I think it’s for you,’ she panicked.
‘What?’
‘That announcement. I think it’s for you,’ she shouted in haste.
‘Just a second.’
I patted the back of a white-skinned man in front of me. He had a US flag on his T-shirt. ‘Wudgyaa
mind tellin me whom they were caallin for?’ I don’t know why but talking to goras tends to change
my accent.
‘Oh, you mean the last call?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Some neil to New York. For god’s sake, why are people not on time at the airport?’
And I kept looking into his eyes with anger but didn’t say anything. Of course, the fault was mine.
‘That’s me,’ I said firmly, getting closer to his face. ‘But you know, hey … Thanks for letting me
know that it was me.’
His face was something to be seen. Pale. Maybe, for a second, he remembered that he wasn’t on
his land but mine. But before he could start apologizing, I rushed to gate no. 2.
On the call, avni was still waiting for my response.
But, what happened next at the gate was surprising.
‘avni, I’ll call you back in a while,’ I said and disconnected the call still trying to understand
what happened.
The security lady at the door had taken my boarding pass, swiped it through a gadget which
punched a single word, in bold red letters, on it. INVALID. She then returned it to me with a smile
on
her face. I looked at the pass and then at her face and wondered—Now what the hell was this? Then,
she snatched it back from me and tore it into two pieces, stylishly, and dropped them into the dustbin beside her desk.
I was completely puzzled. Did they find some drugs in my baggage? Or some smuggled
diamonds?
Or may be a hand-grenade? Jesus! I don’t even know what grenades look like.

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Will neil be able to go US?

What would have happend in the airport?

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