Room 112

 

 

It was 1:00 AM. The weary passengers of IndeAir Flight 101 had had enough. Four full hours of ignoring their pleas. Now, the lady at the desk announced that they would not fly as planned.

 

They would be put on the next flight, at 11:00 am. To add insult to injury, she had told them they would be rewarded for their patience with accommodations at the 3 star ‘Inde-Air hotel, a mile away from the airport.

 

No surprise here. Well known for its notorious unpredictability and constant cancellations, IndeAir airlines was still overbooked by those looking for cheap deals. Of which it provided plenty. Surprisingly, IndeAir prided itself on the best safety record of all airlines; never in their 30-year history had they lost a single flight. Come to think of it, how could they, if they constantly canceled them.

 

The airport was small for an international one and sorely in need of maintenance. The graying once-upon-a-time white walls contrasted with the fading gold hue of the ornate furnishings. People milled about hugging and greeting each other loudly. Of fond reunions and emotion-laden farewells, there were plenty.

 

As there were of people. That was one thing that the country had plenty of. And still growing steadily.

 

To Mrs. Simi Rao, it seemed like she had just been here to bid goodbye to her newlywed husband. She was now headed to rejoin him in New York. And begin a whole new life.

 

“That would now have to wait, until 11:00 am tomorrow”, she thought, as she walked, negotiating her way deftly, through the helpless, frustrated crowd.

 

Under the harsh white lights of the airport lounge, their faces somehow seemed even older, the lines on their faces sharper, more pronounced. Anxiety and concern made the already tired and bloodshot eyes seem even darker.  Her parents stood up, expectantly,  as she approached.

 

“The flight’s canceled. We will be leaving by the 11:00 am”, Simi announced, as she sat on the cracked leather seat, the whites of the cushion showing at the edges.

 

Simi’s father  looked down at his watch, then said, “Oh! And our train leaves by 6:00 AM.”

 

Her mother immediately turned to her father, exclaiming, “ We can’t leave now, leaving her all alone!”.

 

Simi felt a slight sense of irritation rising as she swiftly reassured her mother. “ No, no you must! I can manage. Besides, the airline is giving us accommodation. They will be putting us two in a room, so I should be safe”.

 

Simi’s father seemed to consider her suggestion seriously. She insisted, “Besides, if you cancel you will not be able to get back to Maya and Raj. They can't possibly stay alone for that long.”

 

Her mother who had opened her mouth to launch another tirade paused midway. If she could, she would willingly tear herself in two to be with all her children at once. She seemed caught between her irrational fear for Simi and her constant anxiety about Simi’s siblings back home, left in the ‘care’ of their arthritic,aged grandmother. Who was taking care of whom was pretty much up for debate.

 

Simi’s father, having resolved things in his head, came to a decision. “Shanti, Simi’s right. She will be safe and we can't afford to stay much longer. She’s a married woman and is beginning a new life in a new country. Of course, she can handle herself”.

 

Simi looked gratefully at her father. But,  Simi’s mother stood undecided. A moment later,her face brightened.

 

She stood up and walked tentatively towards  the lady at the counter.The concern for her daughter’s safety replaced her usual timidness  at speaking to authority figures, especially smart looking English speaking ones.

 

She stood before the lady, who sat absorbed in something on her computer screen.

 

“Excuse me,Madam, this is my daughter Simi Rao. Can you please tell me which room she will be put up in?”

 

The lady, looking mildly irritated by this sudden disruption, ran a well-manicured forefinger in a straight line down a printed list of names and paused. Looking up, “Simi Khanna?”

 

“Yes,Yes!”, the eager mother said.

 

“Your daughter is with Mrs. Ameena Khan in room 112. The shuttle will leave in in 20 minutes.”

 

She had already turned back to whatever she had been doing before she was interrupted. And so missed the expression on the elderly lady’s face.

 

The momentary relief that had suffused Shanti’s face left her. She looked like a balloon which had lost all it’s air in one go.

 

Her shoulders drooping, she walked back.

 

“They  have put Simi in a room with a Mrs. Khan!” she whispered almost inaudibly.

 

The poor man, for whom the situation seemed to be changing almost instantaneously, consoled her with, “ Shanti, it will be only a few hours and then they will be ready to go.”

 

The mother turned upon her husband  smoldering. Her timid demeanor, reserved for the world disappeared altogether with this man she had known almost her whole adult life.

“How could you say that? I cannot be like you and leave my poor baby with an unknown stranger. And a Muslim one at that!”

 

She shook her head,in abject misery.

 

Simi, watched them, a  little confused.

 

“The shuttle will leave in ten minutes. Passengers, please be ready to board!” came the surprisingly shrill voice of the manicured lady at the counter.

 

Simi walked towards the restrooms, leaving her parents to their discussion.

 

Pulling her long braid to her right shoulder, she stepped in, gingerly pulling up her  bright red salwar from touching the floor of the restroom. The bright henna patterns on her dainty white feet shown bright and beautiful between the bejeweled pair of camel leather slippers. She looked the picture of a newly married Hindu bride, which she was.

 

As she waited for a cubicle to open, she noticed a pair of women checking themselves in the mirror. Both were clad in plain black burqas.  As the middle-aged woman lifted her hand to adjust her headscarf, a bright green intricately embroidered salwar showed beneath the black. The older woman called out to someone in a cubicle. “Hurry, Ameena,  they will leave soon”.

 

“Coming, Ammi”, came the reply from inside.

 

A door finally opened and Simi thankfully rushed in.

 

As she sat relieving herself, she overheard the ladies converse.

 

“Inshallah, they have put our Ameena with a Hindu girl.” The elderly voice again.

 

Another voice replied. “ Ammi, is it true that Hindu girls are fierce? I heard that Hindu girls smear blood on their foreheads. Is it true?”

 

Ammi - Who knows about those strange people and their strange ways.

 

“Mrs. Khanna, the lady said. The one who will be in our Ameena’s room. Could they not find some good Muslim girl?”.

 

A youngish voice now. “ Ammi, I will manage, don’t worry. I will keep to myself and I will be safe”.

 

“Ameena, you are such a brave girl. Allah care for you.” The voices faded as they walked out, their clothes swishing in unison.

 

Simi got up slowly and tied the strings of her salwar, deep in thought. Stepping out, she looked up at her forehead, her crimson bindi and the red color on the parting of her hair. Touching it, she smiled to herself.

 

She stepped out, her shoulders pulled back, her eyes smiling her secret thoughts, and headed towards the shuttle.

Reviews

[Gerald Cox]

It took me a few minutes to get a fix on the tone of the story, but it was well worth it. I enjoyed the defiant air at the end as well as its hopefulness contrasted with the idea that the qualities that people share aren't necessarily the best ones. Well done.