The journey has begun. After a very smooth flight, I am destined to face my moment of truth. A chauffeur-driven swank black Merc at my disposal. While the world sleeps, I speed at 130 kmph down my perceived highway to heaven. The names of the roads mean little to me at the moment. Just the drive, the speed, the feel of the plush Merc interiors and the two tiny pegs of vodka on the flight, all combine to give a heady feeling. First question to the driver: How long will it take to the hotel? “Half an hour madam”.
Aha…half hour of mindless musings. Unfortunately, he either underestimated his driving skills or The Merc’s horsepower! It took just 15 mins!
I have a river-facing room that allows me to just gaze at the world as the day yawns out of the night, little ferries amble by with sleepy passengers aboard and the birds sing their songs of sixpence to usher in a bright new day.
Freedom is indeed a many splendoured word. When you don't have it like every other thing you crave for it...when you have it...you don't know what to do with it. The overflowing excess of nervous energy has rendered me an incapacitated insomniac, clueless about what to do next, where to search for some peace of mind and body. I and my laptop, I and my sporadic virtual company, I and my thoughts, live in isolation... in another part of the world.