Footloose And Fancy Free

The cab came to a gradual halt at the choc-a-bloc driveway of the Terminal 3 airport in Delhi. Anuradha stepped out, oozing confidence and style. An elegant lady in her early 30s, hair tied in a messy bun, accessorized with a decorative tasselled pin, face covered with big shades, wearing fluorescent pink sneakers, she attracted more than a few glances. Carrying minimal luggage, just a small stroller and a hardy backpack, that carried her laptop, she walked tall towards the check-in counter. After showing e-tickets on her phone, and a physical ID to the stern security officer at the terminal entry gates, she made her way inside the terminal.

She was soon the 18th person in the serpentine queue. Though a bit restless, she was a picture of composure. The queue inched slowly. Even though her eyes were not looking up from her phone, she had an exact idea of how many pairs of footwear stood ahead of her. She was furiously typing on her phone, and though people behind her thought she could delay them because she was not even looking up, she didn’t. A quick show of documents at the counter, and she exited the queue, boarding pass in hand.

With about 45 minutes at hand before boarding began, she parked herself on the metal three-seater waiting-bench near the gate that was assigned for her flight. She liked to be way early than a wee bit late. She knew, when the gates would open for boarding, she can shut down her laptop and waste no time to locate the gate to board. She flipped open her laptop and started typing, not once looking up, as was seen by her fellow passengers. Interestingly, she was not using either earphones or headphones. It was because she wanted to be aware of any announcements that were often made about gate change or flight delays. After 30 minutes, she very politely asked the lady sitting next to her to watch over her bag, while she quickly rushed to the ladies’ room and also fetched herself a coffee. Intrigued and besotted, the lady made a few quick assumptions about Anuradha. ‘She must be in her early 30’s. Either single or divorced, because she is not accompanied by any man. She is travelling alone. Could be a photographer. Could be someone famous also, otherwise why would she be wearing such large dark glasses indoors. Clearly, she is avoiding attention. But she is so stylish, she could get away with murder.’

Anuradha was back in a jiffy. She now had a tall glass of hot coffee in her hand, in an insulated ripple paper glass, confident it will not leak or spill. She thanked the lady for watching over her things and picked up her laptop to resume typing. The lady, falsely assuming she could make some conversations now, asked: “Where are you going?” Anuradha, not pleased with polite conversations, but wanting to be nice, replied: “Leh.” The Lady, once more falsely assuming she could make further conversation said: “Oh! We are also going to Leh. Me, my husband and my two kids. There they are”, pointing to a boisterous bunch of three munchings on wafers and colas, what was pure junk food. Anuradha smiled and thought: ‘It is apparently not obvious that if you are seated at the same gate, chances are you are likely headed to the same destination.’

When the request for passengers to queue up for boarding was made, Anuradha was in no hurry. The Lady, now expert at falsely assuming, asked: “Not boarding? Hurry up. You will miss the flight.” Anuradha only smiled. She packed up her laptop and was one of the last in the queue to board. She had completed most of her work and was now all set to enjoy her time off. She boarded the near vacant shuttle bus and was taken to the aircraft that would take her to Leh. There was no rush to be the first one to board or take the first bus. She hated crowds, she disliked jostling.

Since she was amongst the last few to board, she didn’t have to wait long for the aircraft doors to close and for the flight to take off. She passively heard the safety instructions, as the aircraft started to taxi while looking out of the window seat. She had insisted she be given a window seat as she was very particular about watching the landing at the Leh airport. She started chewing gum, as she always did, during take-off. She read and intermittently sipped water and waited eagerly for the little over an hour-long, flight to land.

Day 1

As the chocolate brown mountains, with dollops of vanilla ice cream approached, Anuradha had started to smile and couldn’t contain her excitement. When the flight landed and she took a first look at what greeted her, she knew she had made the right choice to select Leh as the holiday destination. She inhaled the crisp and clean air and breathed in deeply. They were forbidden from taking any pictures at the airport as it was a Military airport. She abided, but clearly several others had not heard the instructions.

She came to the small, small compared to most other airports, baggage collection carousel and collected her small stroller. She then walked up to the taxi stand, hired a cab and reached the hotel she had booked. Checking in formalities done, she decided to take day one easy. It was advised and highly recommended that tourists, especially those who flew in, to allow one day to get acclimatised in Leh. Acclimatization was one of the important things she’d prepared for while planning this trip to Leh, Ladakh. As most places in Ladakh are located above the altitude of 10,000 feet, visitors could suffer from dizziness, headaches or even acute mountain sickness (AMS). She wanted none.

After drawing the curtains of her comfortable room, just a little, to check what views she had, she switched on her laptop and got busy. She could hear a commotion in the parking lot, as her appointed room was on the first floor. Slightly irritated, she got up to explore what the noise could be about. Nothing alarming, just a few excited adults and exhausted children getting off a minibus. Anuradha guessed they are all members of the same package tour and may have been picked up by the tour operator from the airport to be dropped at this hotel. They also must’ve been asked to rest it out today before their sight-seeing began in all earnest tomorrow. She sure wasn’t going to have it quiet.

Anuradha spent the day in her room, but for an early dinner, she walked to a nearby market. She was keen to have something light so that she doesn’t feel unwell. She wandered around for a while till she came across a quaint bakery - Gyatso’s Bakery. It took her only a minute to figure it was run by a hearing-impaired person. She had been quick to read the notice that displayed: ‘If you shout – I can’t hear. If you scream – I can’t hear. Press this switch – I’ll be here.’ Anuradha pressed the switch that lit up a few bulbs, that alerted the owner. Almost immediately, like a Jinn, a friendly man in his late 40’s appeared. He indicated to a pin on his coat that showed his name was Gyatso. That explained the bakery’s name - Gyatso’s Bakery. Gyatso effortlessly communicated and said, either she could point at, or write it down on paper, to let him know what she wanted. She could then pay and will soon be served on one of the tables. She noticed four neat tables, all could seat four at a time. The four tables had four different table covers, red, green, yellow and white. Perhaps it was easier for Gyatso to let his staff know which table needs to be served on the basis of colour.

Anuradha was too happy to be there. She placed the order by pointing to the goodies on display, through the clean as crystal glass. She asked for a smoked chicken croissant, a blueberry muffin, and a cappuccino. She listened to soft music that streamed in from one of the nearby restaurants. This bakery was silent. Maybe because Gyatso couldn’t hear, he had made no provisions for any music either. She was loving it and especially because she was there alone and there was no need to make any conversation with anybody. She had her dinner in peace and once done, through sign language indicated to Gyatso she’d enjoyed the fare. A big smile and a thumbs up did it.

She started to walk back to her hotel after her dinner, in the silence and darkness of the late evening. A gradual slope that was on the rise when she had come to the market earlier in the evening, was now easier as it was a downward slope. She took baby steps as she was in no hurry to get back. Suddenly, she found someone frantically waving. Initially ignoring, thinking it can’t be to seek her attention, she soon realized it was the same lady from the airport. Gently, she waved back too. Thankfully she was far off. Anuradha reached her hotel room and after ensuring the room is locked and secure, changed into her nightwear and took off her contact lenses. She then curled up in the warm bed with her Kindle. In the focused light of the lamp kept at the side table, she resumed her reading from where she had left when she was on the flight. She would have read for about an hour before sleep took over.

Day 2

Waking up to a beautiful sunrise, Anuradha was yet again thrilled with the surrounding tranquillity. A coffee in her hands, she stood in her small balcony and started her day with a mesmerising view. Her eyes and mind were capturing these sights to last her a lifetime. She decided to not venture out today also. She sat in her balcony and after a very meagre breakfast took to her laptop. She got up once in a while to see where the sun was at that hour, and while she took that break she took a few deep breaths and stretched too. It was an uneventful day for her. She felt like repeating yesterday’s exercise for today’s dinner as well. She did exactly that. Reached Gyatso’s Bakery, placed the order to the now-familiar Gyatso, had a light dinner, smiled, thanked the staff and Gyatso, and made her way back to her hotel.

Day 3

Anuradha was undecided whether she should step out and go for some sightseeing or take a leisurely walk. She looked out of her room window and saw a full jamboree of kids and adults excited to go somewhere. They looked like they’ve been released from a cage and are only too excited to be set free. That’s what one day of forced acclimatization did to them. She smiled and watched them leave. Peace prevailed once the minibus with the over-excited tourists, armed with goodie bags, water bottles, colas, phones and selfie sticks, left.

She spent a major part of her morning at the hotel and then stepped out around 12. She took a cab and reached the white-domed Shanti Stupa. She took the small flight of stairs, went up and paid her respects. The stupa was spread over two levels. First level had a Buddha idol, and the second level featured relics depicting the "birth" of Buddha, the death of Buddha (Mahanirvana) and Buddha "defeating the devils" while meditating. She made keen observations, read the information available and then found a quiet corner and sat down. She had her back to the crowd but she was in her own world. Shades covered a large part of her face, a wide-rimmed cap protected her from the sun, and head bent down, typing on her laptop.

Anuradha did not realize how many hours she had spent there until the need for hot coffee and something to eat made her get up and leave. She again hailed a cab and reached Gyatso’s Bakery in the market, now her go-to place for every meal. Gyatso greeted her with a big smile, extremely happy she was a regular customer now. Leh market was a small area and if one stayed even for three days, the faces became familiar. Anuradha now smiled at several adventure tourists, who had come from different European countries. They hired bikes and cycles and went trekking, cycling, or biking. None of those was apparently on her agenda. Anuradha was clearly taking it easy. She never inquired where she could go, how she could go. She preferred to be alone and quiet.

Day 4

Today, Anuradha wanted to have breakfast at Gyatso’s and so reached the bakery early morning for some grilled sandwiches and her regular cappuccino. She checked with Gyatso, if she could spend the day at his bakery. She wanted the view of the valley and the crisp sun. She also loved the quietness and privacy the bakery provided. Gyatso was only happy to say yes. Hardly anyone was a repeat customer at his bakery. People often bought stuff due to pity. Flummoxed how to order, most left without buying anything too.

Towards the evening, the same airport lady stepped into Gyatso’s Bakery. She immediately spotted Anuradha, who had not noticed her. She, once again falsely assuming, walked up to Anuradha and gave a friendly pat on the back. It startled Anuradha. She was quick to express her displeasure. But the lady clearly did not take any hint. She blabbered: “Good I saw you. I love your style. You are so glamorous. And now that we are friends, we can share a tea/coffee. My husband went to the hotel but I wanted to have tea/coffee, so I came here.” Not wanting to offend her, Anuradha managed a very feeble smile but said nothing. The lady continued: “Myself Arti. My husband name Akash. My kids name Ahaan and Ayush. We stay in Delhi. We are in Ladakh for a 4 day, 3 night holiday. We are going back tomorrow morning. And yourself?” Anuradha was not seeking any introductions, least of all an introduction that could potentially lead to any friendship. She also squirmed at the incorrect spoken English, but took a deep breath and let it pass. Arti insisted: “Tell na.”

An irritated Anuradha said: “I can’t tell you my name.” At this point she took off her sunglasses and Arti noticed Anuradha’s eyes of a distinct but sharp grey colour. She remembered her eye colour was light brown when she had first seen her at the airport. An unstoppable Arti continued: “Why?” Anuradha, now very grim, offered a detailed explanation in a very hushed tone: “Because the Police are looking for me. I have murdered someone in Delhi. Just before I took the flight to Leh, the day you and I met, I had killed someone. Just after the murder, I left Delhi and I am now hiding in Leh. I have planned everything. Have you seen me go for any sight-seeing? No Pangong Lake, no Nubra Valley, no Zanskar River. I have not even stepped out of my hotel room. Because the Police are looking for me. I have a few meals at this bakery because the owner cannot talk. He can never alert the Police or give my description to anyone seeking any information. And yes when I get back to Delhi tomorrow, by the same flight as you, you will see the Police at the airport, waiting to arrest me.”

A terrified and jittery Arti, left her cup of tea untouched and quietly exited the bakery, shivering to her bones.

Day 5, Delhi Airport

The flight from Leh, carrying Arti and family, and Anuradha the solo traveller, among several others landed in Delhi. Today, Arti made no eye contact with Anuradha. In fact, she ensured even her husband Akash did not, and stayed miles away from her. Anuradha was in her signature look, dark glasses covering half her face, a bun loosely tied, and typing continuously on her phone. This time also she wasn’t looking up. But only Arti knew why. ‘She’s keeping a low profile lest she catches the attention of the security.’ Arti knew something was wrong from day one.

As they were both exiting the airport, Arti waited for Anuradha to be arrested by the Police. Arti discreetly hid behind a pillar and unsuspectingly watched.

True to Arti’s expectation, a Police jeep screeched to a halt the moment Anuradha stepped out of the Terminal. Arti expected Anuradha to run, but she was surprised at what happened. Anuradha walked up to the Police jeep, head held high, and hugged the officer. Luggage hurled in the back seat of the jeep, they sat down, wore their seat belts and sped away. Anuradha took a brief moment to locate Arti and, for the first time, waved to her.

Anuradha had been picked up by her husband, Prashant, who was a Senior Officer with Delhi Police. He asked her: “Who did you wave to? A friend?” Taking just a second to respond, Anuradha said: “No baba. I don’t want to be her friend. I met her in Leh. Another solo traveller like me, she happened to like me. God knows why she confided in me that she has plans to kill her husband soon. Maybe you only will be investigating her case in a few days. I was only thinking of her throughout my trip. I could barely focus on completing my dissertation. Now I need another quiet holiday to be able to do that. Honey, I can go on one, right?”

Anuradha had sparked some thoughts not only with Arti but also with Prashant now. She flashed her famous smile as she looked out of her window.