Airports have a strange tendency of changing you.
I have (to) spent(d) a major part of back to back weekends running through and waiting at various airports.
The aunty who told me "paise waste matt karo beta, khana book kiya Hai toh le lo" in the middle of my sleep, ah Moms!
This post however is not about airports and their consequences to our lives, it is about a solo trip and a lot of unnecessary self bragging because, who else would?
A solo trip I took on a day when someone I once trusted broke my trust completely, I had no time or luxury to cry over it except for deep sighs because I was running around one such old airport, in formals and shocking pink socks, making my way through cyclone (yes, literally), fighting my way home, finally making it after sleepless nights (a little exaggeration) and patting my back.
Independence and growing up, check.
Solo trip, check.
P.S. Did I ever mention that Bangalore somehow seemed like the safety of 'home' when I landed after the cyclone encounter? Who would have known.
Check.
I have (to) spent(d) a major part of back to back weekends running through and waiting at various airports.
The aunty who told me "paise waste matt karo beta, khana book kiya Hai toh le lo" in the middle of my sleep, ah Moms!
This post however is not about airports and their consequences to our lives, it is about a solo trip and a lot of unnecessary self bragging because, who else would?
A solo trip I took on a day when someone I once trusted broke my trust completely, I had no time or luxury to cry over it except for deep sighs because I was running around one such old airport, in formals and shocking pink socks, making my way through cyclone (yes, literally), fighting my way home, finally making it after sleepless nights (a little exaggeration) and patting my back.
Independence and growing up, check.
Solo trip, check.
P.S. Did I ever mention that Bangalore somehow seemed like the safety of 'home' when I landed after the cyclone encounter? Who would have known.
Check.
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