From Spilled Coke to Unexpected Friendship: A Journey to Hong Kong
Airport :
The International Airport of Mumbai
Pax :
Aryan Mehta
Riya Sharma
Husband :
Karan Sharma
Flight :
Air India
Cafe :
Wyndham Street
The International Airport of Mumbai hummed with a pre-evening energy. It wasn't even 17:00, yet Aryan had already arrived for his 20:00 flight to Hong Kong. He was a creature of punctuality, bordering on obsessive when it came to travel. "Better early than sorry," he always said, a mantra born from a missed connection years ago.
He wrestled his luggage onto a trolley, navigating the throng of travelers with a practiced Air. "Air travel has become so common these days," he mused, a slight wrinkle forming on his brow. He preferred the quieter, less crowded days of yore.
Passport and ticket presented, Aryan checked in at the Air India counter, securing his boarding pass. He'd pre-booked an aisle seat, a non-negotiable for him. Being trapped in a window or middle seat, especially on a long flight, was akin to torture. Security was a breeze, and he soon found himself in Terminal 2, the designated departure point for Air India flight A-314. He located an empty seat in the waiting lounge and settled in, glancing at his watch. An hour and a half to go. He’d deliberately chosen a night flight, hoping to sleep through most of it and arrive in Hong Kong refreshed and ready for work at 06:45 local time.
A while later, an elderly gentleman, dressed in simple, homespun clothes, sat down a seat away. He looked like a farmer, his weathered face etched with years of sun and toil. In heavily Punjabi-accented Hindi, he showed Aryan his boarding pass and asked, "Son, is my flight departing from here?"
Aryan nodded, then returned to his book, a thick tome on data analytics. He occasionally glanced at the news flickering across the television screen, but his attention was primarily focused on his reading. Half an hour passed, and a young woman approached, gesturing towards the middle seat where the elderly man's bag rested.
"Excuse me," she said politely, "could you please move your bag so I can sit?"
Aryan smiled and pointed towards the elderly man, indicating the bag's owner. The gentleman, his Hindi comprehension somewhat limited, hesitated for a moment, then moved his bag at her request. Before settling down, she turned to Aryan and said, "I'll be right back after a quick restroom break."
This time, Aryan took a proper look at her. She was tall and slender, her figure accentuated by a stylish blue skirt and a crisp white top. High heels added to her height and gave her an Air of confidence. Ten minutes later, she returned, a packet of chips in one hand and a can of Coke in the other. As she munched and sipped, Aryan noticed her slight discomfort in the high heels.
Just as she was about to sit, she lost her balance slightly. She managed to steady herself, but the Coke can slipped from her grasp, spilling its contents all over Aryan’s jeans.
Startled, Aryan jumped up, instinctively handing the can back to her. The young woman looked mortified. She grabbed tissues from her bag and began dabbing at his jeans, her face flushed with embarrassment.
"I'm so incredibly sorry," she stammered.
Aryan stopped her, taking the tissues. "It’s alright," he said, trying to minimize the damage. "I’ll manage."
Shortly after, the boarding announcement was made. Serendipitously, Aryan, the elderly man, and the young woman—who introduced herself as Riya—found themselves seated next to each other on the plane. The elderly man had the window seat, Riya the middle, and Aryan, as planned, the aisle.
The Captain's voice crackled over the intercom, welcoming passengers and announcing the 8-hour, 35-minute flight to Hong Kong, with a brief stopover in Delhi.
He reminded passengers traveling onward to Hong Kong to remain seated during the Delhi stop. The Flight Attendant demonstrated the safety procedures, but the elderly passenger struggled with his seatbelt. Riya, ever helpful, leaned over and assisted him. In the process, they discovered he was traveling to Canada after attending his niece's wedding in Hong Kong. His son had sponsored his green card, and he was going to live in Vancouver.
Once the plane was Airborne, Aryan struck up a conversation with Riya. "I’m Aryan Mehta," he said. "I’m a software engineer. My company develops banking software. I’m going to Hong Kong for work related to Barclays Investment Bank and HSBC."
Riya smiled. "Nice to meet you. I’m Riya Sharma. My family has a business in Hong Kong."
"So, you must travel there often?" Aryan asked.
"Actually, no," Riya admitted. "This is my first time."
As they chatted, the Flight Attendants began serving refreshments. Aryan and Riya noticed the elderly gentleman making frequent trips to the restroom, which was particularly inconvenient for Riya in the middle seat. Aryan, being on the aisle, simply adjusted his legs each time. The elderly man explained that he suffered from diabetes and kidney problems.
After a while, the plane landed at Delhi Airport for its brief stopover. Once the final leg to Hong Kong began, dinner was served. After eating, Aryan settled down, hoping to get some sleep. Riya, however, pressed the call button for the Flight Attendant. When she arrived, Riya whispered something in her ear. The attendant smiled and walked away, returning a moment later with a small, discreet package wrapped in tissue. Seeing this, the elderly gentleman piped up, "Son, could you get me one of those too?"
The Flight Attendant, her patience clearly wearing thin, replied, "Sir, this isn’t for you."
"Let me see it first," the elderly man insisted. "Then I’ll decide if it’s for me or not."
Riya, trying to suppress her laughter, attempted to explain, but the elderly man was adamant. Finally, the exasperated attendant blurted out, "Sir, do you have a monthly cycle?"
The elderly man recoiled in shock. "What nonsense are you talking about?"
The misunderstanding was finally cleared up, and Aryan and Riya shared a hearty laugh. Later, Riya went to the restroom to use the sanitary napkin. Returning to her seat, her foot caught in another passenger’s headphone wire. She stumbled and fell, her skirt momentarily riding up. Flustered, she tried to get up but slipped again. Aryan quickly helped her back into her seat, and from that moment on, he switched places with her, taking the middle seat himself.
"Thanks a lot," she said gratefully.
"No problem," Aryan replied. "But can I ask you something? Don’t take it the wrong way."
"Go ahead," Riya said.
"You don’t seem very comfortable in those high heels. Why wear them on a flight?"
She sighed. "Without them, I look really short. I don’t usually wear them, but… I wanted to."
As the conversation continued, Riya dozed off, her head resting on Aryan’s shoulder.
He remained still, not wanting to disturb her.
Occasionally, she would wake up, apologize profusely, sit upright for a moment, then lean on him again.
Eventually, she even rested her head on his lap.
When the landing announcement came, Aryan gently shook Riya awake. "Time to buckle up," he said.
"We’ve arrived."
"Already?" she murmured, stretching. "That was fast!"
At the Hong Kong Immigration Desk, Aryan turned to Riya.
"I really enjoyed traveling with you,"
he said.
"Would you like to meet up again while we’re here?"
"Sure," Riya replied. "No harm in that."
"How about dinner tonight at the Indian restaurant on Wyndham Street? The food there is amazing."
"Sounds great," Riya agreed. "I’ll see you there."
That evening, Aryan arrived at the Wyndham Street and waited, having reserved a table. To his complete surprise, Riya appeared, not in her stylish travel clothes, but in a simple apron, holding a menu. "Good evening, sir," she said with a warm smile.
"What would you like to Order?"
Startled, Aryan stared at her. "You’re a waitress here?"
he asked, incredulous. "Is this your family’s business?"
Riya grinned. "Relax," she said. "Let me get your food first."
After some time, she returned, having shed her apron. She sat down opposite Aryan. "This is my husband, Karan," she said, gesturing to a man who had just joined them.
Still trying to process everything, Aryan looked from Riya to Karan and back again. Karan smiled and extended his hand. "We own a major share in this Wyndham Street," he explained.
"When Riya heard you were coming here, she decided to give you a little surprise."
Aryan chuckled, finally understanding the situation. "You got me good," he admitted.
Riya patted his arm. "We’ll always be good friends," she said. "But next time, I promise I won’t be the one serving you!"
As Aryan left the Wyndham Street, he laughed at himself, realizing how quickly he had jumped to conclusions. It was a valuable lesson learned, a reminder that first impressions aren't always what they seem.
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