''How are you feeling ?" an sms popped on my cell phone. I chose not to respond. I wanted to say, "I am batman...."
A passing airliner made a pattern on the window. The silhouette of a cleaning staff against the bright window with an airliner beyond made a perfect Hollywood frame.
He mopped the floor in the slow rhythm of a music composer nonchalant about the hullabaloo of the passengers, the planes and the monophonic Merry Xmas.
"Where are you ? " another sms. I want to reply that I am flying back home. I wish I could record a John Denver 'leaving on a jet plane' and reply the message. i chose to ignore again because if I did i would spoil the surprise.
Vigorously I took out a novel from my bag to read but I knew I cant focus. The music in the lobby changed to an epic movie theme. The cleaner had vanished as I looked up. Salman Khan is a ghost now.
Once on the streets of Muhammad Ali Road a kid tried to sell me 'Attar'. A strong smelling homemade perfume. I brought it then since it was cheap. I suddenly remembered the scent. Out of the blue a random street scent filled the lobby.
"Please respond" i got another message on my cell phone.
The monotonous lady made an announcement unclear yet crisp. A Marathi woman kissed her child right in front of me. A tamilian blasted his wife on the phone. Another airplane made a pattern on the window.
"I am coming home :-) :-)" i responded to the message, switched off my cell phone.
To hell with surprises.
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