26-12-2018, 10:19 AM
I reached the Santacruz airport a good one hour before the scheduled arrival of her flight on Saturday morning. Those days, there was only one terminal for domestic as well as international flights; there were just two or three daily Indian Airlines flights between New Delhi & Mumbai. Being a Saturday, there were very few people at the terminal. The flight landed only half an hour late, a record of sorts for Indian Airlines. In a few minutes I spotted Swati walking out through the gate into the arrival hall. Her eyes lit up as she saw me.
"Sameer! It's great to see you again after such a long time. I wasn't sure my letter would reach you in time. My God, you look wonderful!" She gushed, smiling delightedly.
"Thanks… You look great too. How are Satish & the kids?" I blushed at her compliment and formally enquired after her family.
"Oh, they are fine… Ah, here is my driver." She spotted a man carrying a placard with her name on it. Soon, her baggage came out and the driver loaded it onto a cart (those days, there was virtually no security; anybody could walk into the baggage delivery area). The driver led us to a white Ambassador car with tinted glasses, a ubiquitous symbol of power & privilege. It was parked just outside the terminal building in the no-parking area. The driver had instructions to drop "Swati madam" off at the MLA's Hostel in downtown Mumbai and thereafter be available at her service throughout her stay in Mumbai. The MLA's Hostel was in theory intended only for housing out of town members of the legislative assembly when it was in session. In practice, its facilities were enjoyed by powerful people with the right connections, who often had nothing to do with the legislative assembly. The accommodation and transportation arrangements had all been made by Laxmanrao for his darling daughter Swati.
"So, what are your plans for today? Are you working?" Swati enquired.
"No, we have a five day week so I am free on Saturdays & Sundays." I replied.
"Oh, good. Why don't you ride with me? Let's talk on the way." She suggested. I agreed immediately.
"Sameer! It's great to see you again after such a long time. I wasn't sure my letter would reach you in time. My God, you look wonderful!" She gushed, smiling delightedly.
"Thanks… You look great too. How are Satish & the kids?" I blushed at her compliment and formally enquired after her family.
"Oh, they are fine… Ah, here is my driver." She spotted a man carrying a placard with her name on it. Soon, her baggage came out and the driver loaded it onto a cart (those days, there was virtually no security; anybody could walk into the baggage delivery area). The driver led us to a white Ambassador car with tinted glasses, a ubiquitous symbol of power & privilege. It was parked just outside the terminal building in the no-parking area. The driver had instructions to drop "Swati madam" off at the MLA's Hostel in downtown Mumbai and thereafter be available at her service throughout her stay in Mumbai. The MLA's Hostel was in theory intended only for housing out of town members of the legislative assembly when it was in session. In practice, its facilities were enjoyed by powerful people with the right connections, who often had nothing to do with the legislative assembly. The accommodation and transportation arrangements had all been made by Laxmanrao for his darling daughter Swati.
"So, what are your plans for today? Are you working?" Swati enquired.
"No, we have a five day week so I am free on Saturdays & Sundays." I replied.
"Oh, good. Why don't you ride with me? Let's talk on the way." She suggested. I agreed immediately.
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