Reached India. Still on the way home. In a way, Bangalore is much like Jakarta. The airport is far away, the roads are clogged and city is generally unliveable. But then this is home.
You know… they say, when you live in a place long enough, you become that place. Maybe I have lived in hotels long enough to become like them. Aloof. Pompous. Disinterested. Like hotel rooms, I have a tendency to forget people as soon as they go away for even a bit. In India we call it… out of sight, out of mind!
But not you. I know you must be rolling ur eyes and saying, “Here we go again!”
There is a very famous poet in India who once wrote,
मैं छुपाना जानता तो जग मुझे साधू समझता,
दुश्मन मेरा बन गया है ये छल रहित व्यवहार मेरा।
Which loosely translated into: if I could deceive I would have been perceived as a saint, but my innocent ways have become my biggest enemy.
By the way, my flight from KL also got delayed. Incompetent fools. How hard is it to run an Airlines on time? Apparently very hard. Going by Malasiyan Airlines standards.
Anywho… till I travel again!