Fear Delhi? — to see the fog outside my plane,
Feel airconditioning in my face,
When the announcements begin, and the captain explains
We are nearing the place.
The seat that won’t incline, the cabin too warm,
The limited leg-room;
Here he comes, the Steward with his immigration forms,
We’ll be there soon:
But the journey won’t be done when the terminal’s attained:
There’ll be long hours in line,
Then a battle to fight ere our baggage be gained,
And that’s if we’re on time.
I was ever a frequent flier, so — one flight more,
I can make it, I can last!
This movie is really crap, I’m tired, I’m bored
And time barely creeps past.
Come, let me taste the whole of this meal – I fear
It’s at least two days old,
Bear the taste of it, wash it down with beer
Though it’s greasy and cold.
For sudden the landing gear is released
And the plane descends
And the babies that scream, and the aunties with their ‘Beta, please”
Shall dwindle, shall end,
I shall change, get rupees for my dollars,
And arrive at Arrivals,
I shall proclaim my destination, by a taxi-driver be collared,
And pray for survival.

(with apologies to Robert Browning)

P.S. In case you still haven’t figured it out – I’m headed for Delhi this evening, spending the Winter break there. Now I know what Persephone must have felt like.