I have realised on thing in life – any urgent work can wait for a day. That, which can wait for a day, can wait for a week. That, which can wait for a week, can wait for month. And that, which waits for a fortnight, was never urgent.

I don’t know who said this (the cynicism smells of G. B. Shaw), but whoever did was never quite apt.

Tata Consultancy Services – India’s software giant, had called me ‘urgently’ since a lot of hectic project work was planned. Either they fooled me, or like all haphazardly managed, finicky-customer driven projects, their plans have gone astray. So here I am, in the land of intellectuals, sitting day-in day-out at the Salt Lake office of TCS, doing nothing but yawn. There is a deep urge to throw it all and cuddle in the guesthouse with a book, but unfortunately professionalism binds me.

The moral question – “If there was no urgency, why was I called so early?” re-surges like bouts of ancient sciatica.

The trip from Mumbai was short and sweet. As I turned quickly to depart into the airport building – the solitary tear welling up in my mother’s peaceful, sensitive eyes and my father’s lame attempt to hide it behind a choking – “Take care”, reminded me that I am to see them after next 8-10 months. Should I have turned back? Did I do the right thing in walking away – just a bit too fast?

How I detest these farewells.

The congested seats of the Kolkata bound Boeing 747 Jet Airways flight provided small relief in terms of a ‘sweet’ company on one side. But as roses come with thorns, the other seat was duly taken by a snoring South-Indian who overflowed from the seat. The girl – perhaps just reaching that age, when an overbearing aunt goes around groom hunting; was completely oblivious to my uncomfortable position. I was leaving my near ones behind; she was flying out to them.

As the flight readied for take-off, she shrunk herself low in the seat, eyes tightly closed, holding the armrest in desperation. Fear of flying?

The flight took off westward – straight into the Arabian Sea. Mumbai loomed below – its aerial view enchanting. I could see Hotel Regent looking puny as it stood at the edge of the strip jutting into the sea. On one side was “Band-Stand”, while on other the Worli Sea Face. Never had I seen such a beautiful view of Mumbai and it was even more beautiful as the sunrays reflected from the water of the Arabian Sea making it shine, shimmer and sparkle. It was majestic. The last view of Mumbai for some months to come. Oh Mumbai!

The girl, who by now had cuddled into slumber, blocked my view from the window. The jet of the air- conditioner was directed just past her ear and a few strands of hair resting peacefully on her shoulder now irritated me. She woke up in between to politely refuse the airhostess offering the otherwise forgettable, inedible food. As she slept peacefully, next to me, I was reminded of Marquez’s story “The Sleeping Beauty”, where he talked silently with a lady sleeping throughout the flight – completely oblivious to his euphoria.

But for the solitary strand irritating my nose, the similarity was complete.

A slight rambling woke her up as the plane met some rough weather. The captain’s reassuring voice came over the microphone requesting us to tie our seat belts. She took out “Jonathan Livingstone Seagull” from her tiny purse.

“My Dear, People reading this book, should not be scared of flying”

What can be completely read – though not fully understood, in the time the Tata Infotech bus takes to reach SEEPZ from Andheri – was taking her ages to read. Obviously! She was returning home. Soon the stewardess requested us to tie our seat belts since we were about to land. Again she crouched into her seat holding the armrest.

I got a better view, but alas, it was dark and I could only see thousands of glittering lights. Last time, the sprawling Hooghly spread amidst the criss-cross lanes of Kolkata made a delightful sight. For first timers, the aerial view of Kolkata is enchanting - the landscapes sketched predominantly in green and brownish blue. As the plane landed and turned into the foyer, the stewardess hoped that we had a pleasant flight and that we would come again. She also thanked us for flying Jet Airways. The euphoria in the heart of my Miss Kolkata now spread over her lips, as the dishevelled hair and the sleepy eyes, reminded me of Sanhita as she emerged from the girl’s hostel early in the morning to collect her books. The sweater hurriedly pulled over, could not hide the crumbled nightgown, as I stood there, mesmerised by the morning beauty, completely forgetting to return her books.

As I hit the VIP road in a pre-paid yellow-top Amby, the sights looked familiar. The landscapes looked familiar. Was it really a week ago that I passed these sights? The week in Mumbai seemed so short!

The cool winds at a chilly 20 degrees invigorated me. At each traffic signal, the nicotine-scented winds tasted different than the otherwise predictable Mumbai air. People decked up in sweaters and jackets reminded me of their clones in Pune, where more than the winter, it’s the fear of winter that sends shivers.

At the guesthouse, Tata Infotech had not informed of my arrival. Sridhar – who was by now an old timer, graciously lent me a bed – though unofficial. Nobody from SEEPZ had taken the pain to inform the administration out here, that two guys were coming to stay for a period of ten days – at least, till they search for their own accommodation.

Why should they?

After all, we were enjoying a company paid picnic in the ‘City of Joy’.