Read Online Finding Arun by Marisha Pink - Free Book Online Page B

from which his plane would be
departing and promptly sent him on his way without so much as
blinking. Her efficiency was astounding and it left Aaron mystified
as to why he’d had to queue for so long. He began to relax, feeling
less panicked about catching his next flight, but the feeling was
short-lived when he caught sight of the baggage scanners and metal
detectors, and a second, equally dense, queue for security.
    It took a further forty minutes for Aaron to pass
through security. By the time he had done so the plane had reached
its final call for boarding, forcing him to pull his clothes and
shoes back on whilst simultaneously hurrying across the concourse
towards the gate. Despite sleeping during the previous flight, the
whole process of changing planes was so bothersome that Aaron
dropped exhaustedly into his seat and instantly dozed off again. A
little over two hours later, the same diminutive attendant that had
managed his chaotic transit in Mumbai roused him from his sleep and
in a thick Indian accent politely requested that he return his seat
to the upright position. Sleepily he did as instructed and when he
lifted the blind beside his seat, he was at once struck by the
beauty of what lay beyond the window.
    Delicate porcelain clouds, scattered in an otherwise
uninterrupted sky, quickly gave way to a verdant carpet of dense
forest that stretched beyond the horizon. The lush greenery became
interspersed with narrow winding rivers and murky brown lakes,
until thin dry spines clawed their way into the landscape turning
it into a sea of dusty terracotta coloured plots. High-rises and
highways drifted into view as they swooped down over the city,
superseded by smaller settlements of minute blue-roofed houses. Two
sprawling bus depots claimed a vast expanse of land, their vehicles
akin to multicoloured children’s toys embroiled in a traffic jam,
and they were eclipsed only by waterlogged paddies when the black
tarmac of the runway rose abruptly from the ground to meet the
wheels of the plane.
    The plane touched down softly and, as it taxied
along the runway to its stand, a series of announcements, first in
Hindi and then in an unintelligible English, came over the tannoy.
Aaron could not understand either broadcast, but before the plane
had come to a complete standstill, the other passengers were rising
from their seats, retrieving their belongings and excitedly
chattering amongst themselves while they prepared to leave the
plane. He drew in a deep breath to settle the butterflies that had
returned to his stomach and reached down to retrieve his rucksack
from beneath the seat in front of him. Learning from his earlier
experience, he jostled his way into the line of passengers waiting
to exit the plane, gripping the straps of his bag tightly as the
excitement and anticipation rapidly built in his chest.
    Though it was only a few minutes, it felt like hours
before the line finally began to advance and, bracing himself for
the unknown, Aaron marched defiantly towards the door of the
aircraft. Nearing the exit he felt the temperature dramatically
escalate, his T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms both beginning to stick
uncomfortably against his skin. Small beads of sweat collected
along his brow and when he stepped over the threshold onto the
airstairs, an impenetrable wall of heat greeted him. The bright
sunshine beat down on his face, blinding his vision and making him
sweat more and more profusely. The air tasted thick with moisture
and a strong, spicy, musty odour invaded his nostrils without
warning. It was an attack on the senses of the greatest magnitude
and the whirring hubbub of his fellow passengers seemed to fade
into the background whilst his mind and body struggled to adjust.
He paused briefly, attempting to take it all in, but the sensory
overload was too great and as he disembarked from the plane, the
parting words of the diminutive flight attendant were very nearly
lost on him.
    ‘Welcome to India,