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Drive to the airport

January 31, 2010

I had to pick up a friend from the airport yesterday. A trip I’ve made several times since the new airport opened.  But with my eyes not quite up to par after the surgery, and in peak hour traffic, I decided to take the same road I’ve taken several times. Except, there is more construction going on there and the road has a really bad bottleneck. So I never quite moved out of the first gear and finally crossed the little bottleneck only to realise that I’d no fricking idea where to go. It was dark, there were big trucks and buses all around and I refused to listen to my friend’s direction of “take a u-turn”… and i refused to follow my instincts to take that smaller road leading to the highway to the airport.

So we drive and drive and drive and we are a little jubliant at seeing signboards reading “airport – turn right”. Of course it doesn’t say how far the turn is but we figure that would be a little too much to expect from a developing country. In say 30 years, maybe we’ll have those boards too. So I keep following the road when another signboard turns up pointing to a road which i KNOW is  no where near the airport.

I pull over and try to get the GPS on my phone to work. And then we realise, all the boards on the road were pointing to the OLD airport, which has been inactive for about two years now. And the old airport is in the other direction completely.

So we turn onto to the right road, with a little reconfirmation from GPS and my eyes are tired and we drive, with me too tired and distracted to completely miss the speed breakers and go flying over most of them and my friend to throw up his arms in front of his eyes, cuz mine being a sweet old car, has no such thing called airbags… though it has a partially working seat belt.

We did make it to the airport an hour later than when we were supposed to go. Luckily, my friend’s plane was delayed so he had to wait only for half an hour for us to turn up.

We figured we didn’t want to take any more chances with the roads and traced the same path back, which even if a little too long, was a path we knew.

It was only after I reached the road near my office, which is about 15 kms away from my home, I felt like I was almost home. The familiarity of the roads makes me comfortable. The tension seeped out and I was happy driving because I could handle these roads blind-folded. I have traveled across countries, alone at that. And I never had an issue. But in my very own city, I feel a little uncomfortable being in the northern part simply because… I don’t know. I didn’t realise that till yesterday. It feels like home. South Bangalore… even when it is no where close to home… I used to often itch to get back to my place when I visited some people up in the north. I knew that place really well… but it never feels so much at ease as I am here. Weird.

And someone should seriously tell the Bangalore City Council to please remove those bloody antiquated boards saying “airport.” Or least change it to old/unused airport!

Song of the day: Driving home for Christmas – Chris Rea

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