The Airport Story

J looked at his watch. Its time. The moment had arrived. The time stood still, flooding his cranium with a motley of mixed emotions. Thrill. Angst. Love. Fear.

"I really hate to do this alone. I am gonna miss you so much dear," said J to his wife of 14 months.

G gave him a small peck on his cheek. "Will miss you too baby. But don't you worry about us. Its just a matter of 4 days. It will pass by without a blink."

"Next time, I'll ensure that they allow you and S to join me for such foreign jaunts. You know P always takes his wife and kid with him, wherever he goes," J chuckled.

"Sweety, don't let such petty issues trouble you now. Go and savour your first ever foreign trip. Of course, both of us will be there with you next time," consoled G.

"A final call for all passengers heading for London Heathrow via BA6355 to please check-in their luggage"

"Ok, I'll make a move." J kissed the sleepy S on her tiny forehead. A warm hug with G later, he trudged along slowly towards the check-in counter. A final round of goodbyes ensued and he could make out G's lips crying out, "Have a safe trip" from the distance.

J was amazed at the scene the interior confines of the airport presented. It looked like an age-old government office. "No wonder why the Indian media always complains of the dilapidated airport," thought J.

The BA check-in counter was officiated by a smart gentleman.
"Can I please have your passport and tickets," he exclaimed. J handed over to him. A minute passed.

"Can you please pass your luggage through this conveyor belt?" He promptly did that. The BA officer stamped his passport, stuffed the boarding pass within it and handed it back.

"Thank you Sir, have a nice flight"

"Thank you very much," replied J and started heading towards the BA gate.

Suddenly two tall uniformed men sprang me nowhere and blocked J's path. "Can you come with us for a minute?"

"Excuse me, but is there anything wrong? I am getting late for the flight."

"Yes. Its important. Follow us. We want you to verify something"

Beads of perspiration dropped down J's forehead. "Now what. Why can't bad luck look for other people to screw."

C with his bushy mustache was waiting for him in the dark closed room. He looked at J sardonically.
"Are you J?"

"Yes"

"Are you travelling to London?"

"Yes"

"Whats the purpose of visiting?"

"Business"

"Hmmm...Is this your checked-in luggage"

"Yes"

"Do you know what's inside the bag?"

"Yeah. A few clothes, toiletries etc. Am only heading for a 4 day trip."

"Ohh is it? Do you know what this is?"

A small pouch containing a white powder was thumped on the table in front of J"

"No. What is it?"

"Don't act clever buddy. Tell us before we start kicking your ass"

"For God's sake...tell me what's going on. I am already late for the flight. Please let me go. I have to be in London tomorrow."

C thundered above him "How dare a drug peddler like you talk to me like this? You stupid ass. Where did you get this heroin from?"

J looked at the white powder with shock. "Heroin. Oh my God. How the hell did it get in there. G had packed all my stuff. But G and heroin....I don't get this. What is happening?"

"I don't know anything about this, Sir"

"That is a run-of-the-mill dialogue. Don't you have anything better to offer?"

The seconds clicked. The other two uniformed men suddenly pounced on him and held his arms tightly.

J shrieked "Please let me go. Am innocent"

J was crying hoarsely. Like he had never cried before. The next two minutes, the entire room brimmed with the surrounding grief

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Suddenly the lights in the room lit up. There was laughter all around. G was laughing too. C was Cyrus Broacha.
BAKRA.