One-Day trips

 

 

 

There’s nothing more relaxing than sitting in the car, rocking pleasantly with the car, feeling the fresh breeze from the open windows as trees zip back into a green blur and the sun peeking from behind those giant tree tops. I adore the peace and quiet of the ride, choosing to listen to the swishing winds than songs that matched the vibe. The rhythmic rocking, the pleasant winds and the noise of the car fills me with peace. 

I am the type of passenger to silently gaze at the passing by trees, cars, windmills and road signs. I like the sight of the soft blue sky, tinged with yellows and oranges. Road trips are calming and a chance for us to unwind and exit the monotony of our everyday lives. I had been on multiple trips to Hyderabad and I always fall victim to the beauty of those outstretched fields of green. It is a relief to see such varying shades of green after staring at our screens.

We always start our trips before the break of dawn so it is always a blessing to see the rising sun in all its orange glory. We were to pick up our cousin from the airport at around twelve in the afternoon, so we decided to leave early. The ride was safe and all but the way the driver drove…I barely had a wink of sleep the entire ride from home. I didn’t even sleep when we were going home. The terrain was smooth but the way he zipped around, cutting around the trucks and buses set my heart for a full workout. He literally flew us through the entire way, robbing us of sleep, insisting that this is the way you drive on a highway. Sir, we’ve gone on more road trips than you think so we know that you shouldn’t zip around gigantic trucks and ginormous buses.

When we arrived in the city, sleepy and stiff, we had to take a thirty minute drive to the house of our family friend who has a long history with us. He and his wife were the epitome of joy and love when we still lived in Jeddah. There are so many memories tied with them that it would take forever to keep count of the number of times they put a smile on our faces. And their house is dredged with nostalgia. Their apartment still has the furniture of their old home and it is saturated with the echoes of our past. It is one of those houses which make you feel instantly at home without a doubt. All I wanted was to stay, enjoy her delicious cooking, laugh at his witty jokes and lounge on their sofa without a care in the world. Just as we were enjoying our onion dosa, dad got a call from our cousin who had just landed at the airport.

Going back to the Rajiv Gandhi International airport brought again a wave of nostalgia since we always came to the airport loaded with luggage, jet-lagged and sleepy. The airport had become more bourgeois and developed since the last time I came and the food court looked absolutely “Instagram Foodie” material.  Our cousin wasn’t expecting us and was happy to see us as she engulfed me and my sister in a hug.

She dragged us to McDonald’s and waved away the fact that we just ate with a resolute shake of her head. After placing our orders in the kiosks and a one-minute battle between Dad and her over who would pay for the bill, we settled down in our chairs and took in our surroundings. I aspire to one day slide my credit card without ever looking at the amount I spent.

The dining hall was quaint and had a café – esque style to it. Oh how I missed being in an urban, western restaurant! As I was reveling in the prettiness of the hall, a bunch of cabin crew members walked through the doors. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as another memory unlocked inside me. I missed dearly, heavily, unconditionally, the flights to and fro from home. I grew up seeing these people dressed in prim and proper clothes: the women being dressed in black Rome skirts and a blazer.  

I hate it sometimes when my attention gets deviated from the food to the people around me. I saw these really high-profile bankers (?) sitting in front of us, eating like there is no tomorrow. I guess they might have had a hard day. Also, our order took an atrociously long time to arrive since I was waiting to sink my teeth in that unhealthy goodness. 

When it arrived, I was in heaven. I was in peak form, my senses were flooded with that smell, my tongue felt like it was living the best day of its life and my hands…well, they were crusty. Oh how I missed, oh how I yearned to eat burgers like these! Oh how the fries aren’t dripping with oil like the ones I had made back home! They were salty, crunchy and buttery and went perfectly with the burger. The frozen dessert threatened to make me shed tears due to nostalgia and sensory overload. I felt so many positive emotions that I have a hard time describing them without trying to repeat my melo-dramatic confessions in the beginning. 

But that was exactly how my inner monologue was going on! On the outside, I looked like a cultured girl from a traditional Indian Muslim household who doesn’t look like she had ever heard the “sky” in “skyscraper” while on the inside, I was howling with unholy happiness. I appreciate food, alright? It is a huge blessing to be thankful for.

 

 Anyhow, the day ended with us dozing off in the car, a stop to a mango orchard, another stretch of silence and then finally. Home sweet home. I know I went completely off rails when I came to food but I shall expound more over the conversations I had with our Uncle and Aunt ( the ones we visited ) and my cousin in a new post.

I look forward to see you the next time we meet!