LHR

One morning, I sat in the (old) Bangalore Airport, waiting for my flight to take-off. I was more excited about the 9 - hour long journey to LHR more than the actual holiday that I would be taking! I have always been, and will always be , a sucker for in-flight entertainment on all long haul flihts. And I had not read a novel in too long for my won good. I had lined up a few good reads - some intellectual stimulation and the emotional challenge to pander to my varying plethora of moods.

After 9 hours in the BA flight, shuffling between economy and business class and 2 adrenaline filled movies and TV shows, we finally arrived at LHR. London is one city I am an eternal fan of. There is something so comforting and welcoming about its cold heat and frigid cold that makes you want to stay despite everything. Its like the city, through the sunny fog, stretches its hands out to you, just beckoning you to come , no matter where your origin lies. That is the beauty of this city, not ignoring the obvious jewels that it has handed out - like Hyde Park and the Tate Modern.

At the airport, we spent the four hours in the business class lounge which my mother smuggled me into. It is a waxy heaven, so perfect , so idyllic, that for a short haul, its the perfect place to be but for any longer, you begin to wonder if you are being enveloped into a world which you don't belong, no matter who you are. its perfect but artificial. All the food is overwhelming, yet tantalizing and the multi-nozzle showers are like a temptress, just waiting to be showered in, with the branded shower gels and shampoos. The single best thing about the Lounge is KETTLE CHIPS. the single greatest creation by the international junk food federation. The name sounds fancy , but it tastes even better. The whole experience is worth going through at some point in life for all of us.

Duty-free airport shopping, is quite a deceipt in word-play. The prices of all the big brands are so high that any concession that "duty-free" could offer are more than nullified. But this again hails from the same waxy worth that I spoke of earlier. So perfect, so covetable but yet so unrealistic that in the long run it is just not worth it. Everything about the LHR is something like that.

As we waited for the connection to Barcelona to arrive, albeit late, I was thankful for small pleasures such as this, where one can escape from any semblance of reality and just exist, in a n environment so perfect and FREE!