Kaliyaperumal Chengalnathan couldn't believe his luck. He rubbed his eyes, hoping that would make his jet lag vanish, as he stood up to retrieve his back-pack.
"Sir, could you please remain seated till the aircraft comes to a complete stop?", announced the stern voice of the airhostess.
"Dei machi, Anni ukkara solraanga da. Innoru peg kudupaangala nu kelu da", his friend Senthil Kumar joked as Kali sat back with a sheepish grin.
The airhostess sighed. Why did she always end up with at least a dozen of these idiots in every flight. She should ask for a change in sector, she told herself for the umpteenth time. Any sector would be better than dealing with these uncouth idiots hitting on her for 14 hours. They think that just because I am blonde, I will give my number to every idiot who smiles at me? Her friend had warned her when she was allotted the India sector. Bloody perverts, she thought as she glared at the two idiots grinning to themselves.
"Dei, nammalaye pakkaranga da", Kali murmured.
"Ella namma style-u brother. Nee indha karuppu kannadi mattnale oru gethu varum la", Senthil replied. Kali smiled, and adjusted his aviators. One of his recent acquisitions to look cool for the trip. The airhostess continued to glare at him. He waved back with a smile. She forced a smile, remembering her induction trainer barking "Always greet our customers with a happy smile..."
As the aircraft finally reached its bay, Kali stepped off the plane. Rather, floated off the plane. Even the long immigration queue did not dampen his enthusiasm. Here he was, in the United States of America, on his first trip abroad, and a blue-eyed blonde had just smiled at him. And said "Thank you sir, hope you had a nice flight." And smiled at him. In his mind, he was already married to her, and they had two blue-eyed blonde kids, a dog and a house with a pool...
Just three years ago, he was living in a slum in Mumbai. Attending college in the morning, running for CA articleship in the afternoon, rushing back for computer classes in the evening, before a flash visit home to gobble a quick dinner, and picking up his books for late night studies at Sion Fort with his friends. Back then, not one of the girls in his class had smiled back at him. "They should look at me now... especially that vella kaaka Pooja Patil... walked around preening as if she was some Miss Universe!"
He stretched out in the comfortable cab as his eyes took in the glimmering image of shiny hotels amidst the vast emptiness that is the Las Vegas strip. Senthil was already snoring, useless bugger. Slept through the flight after downing all the free drinks. Sleeping through the cab ride now.
Kali's eyes grew wider as they arrived at the hotel. The check-in staff was so efficient, and even prettier than the airhostess. The lady smiled at him as she took his passport, and although she did a double take at his name as she struggled to pronounce it, the smile never left her face. "Good evening, Mr. Chen-Gal-Naat-An. This is your key card. Your stay and all your meals are already paid for. Someone will assist you with your bags. We wish you a pleasant stay." All his life, his friends had pulled his leg with "Kali Chengi". Bloody northies, mangling up such a nice Tamizh name. Even his father had to put up with his Gujarati Seth always calling him "Sengal bhai". Two generations of nomenclature-induced embarrassment in the Chengalnathan clan just vanished thanks to this petite lady, with her polished accent calling him Mr. Chen-Gal-Naat-An. Never had he imagined that his name would sound so fancy. He had branded himself "KC' in college and at his job. And thought that was fancy. It didn't sound as fancy now.
Wow. This is the life, he thought to himself. Fancy flight, fancy car and now fancy hotel. All company paid. Blue-eyed blonde airhostesses smiling at him. Petite hotel reception staff cutely mispronouncing his name. In his mind, he was already married twice now, one blue-eyed blonde wife, one petite brunette, four kids, two houses and two swimming pools...
Life was perfect. Everything was perfect. If only these bloody Americans could put a jet-spray in their toilets, he wished as filled up from the sink his 'spare' water bottle brought specifically for this purpose.
If only.
*******************************************************************************
"Sir, could you please remain seated till the aircraft comes to a complete stop?", announced the stern voice of the airhostess.
"Dei machi, Anni ukkara solraanga da. Innoru peg kudupaangala nu kelu da", his friend Senthil Kumar joked as Kali sat back with a sheepish grin.
The airhostess sighed. Why did she always end up with at least a dozen of these idiots in every flight. She should ask for a change in sector, she told herself for the umpteenth time. Any sector would be better than dealing with these uncouth idiots hitting on her for 14 hours. They think that just because I am blonde, I will give my number to every idiot who smiles at me? Her friend had warned her when she was allotted the India sector. Bloody perverts, she thought as she glared at the two idiots grinning to themselves.
"Dei, nammalaye pakkaranga da", Kali murmured.
"Ella namma style-u brother. Nee indha karuppu kannadi mattnale oru gethu varum la", Senthil replied. Kali smiled, and adjusted his aviators. One of his recent acquisitions to look cool for the trip. The airhostess continued to glare at him. He waved back with a smile. She forced a smile, remembering her induction trainer barking "Always greet our customers with a happy smile..."
As the aircraft finally reached its bay, Kali stepped off the plane. Rather, floated off the plane. Even the long immigration queue did not dampen his enthusiasm. Here he was, in the United States of America, on his first trip abroad, and a blue-eyed blonde had just smiled at him. And said "Thank you sir, hope you had a nice flight." And smiled at him. In his mind, he was already married to her, and they had two blue-eyed blonde kids, a dog and a house with a pool...
Just three years ago, he was living in a slum in Mumbai. Attending college in the morning, running for CA articleship in the afternoon, rushing back for computer classes in the evening, before a flash visit home to gobble a quick dinner, and picking up his books for late night studies at Sion Fort with his friends. Back then, not one of the girls in his class had smiled back at him. "They should look at me now... especially that vella kaaka Pooja Patil... walked around preening as if she was some Miss Universe!"
He stretched out in the comfortable cab as his eyes took in the glimmering image of shiny hotels amidst the vast emptiness that is the Las Vegas strip. Senthil was already snoring, useless bugger. Slept through the flight after downing all the free drinks. Sleeping through the cab ride now.
Kali's eyes grew wider as they arrived at the hotel. The check-in staff was so efficient, and even prettier than the airhostess. The lady smiled at him as she took his passport, and although she did a double take at his name as she struggled to pronounce it, the smile never left her face. "Good evening, Mr. Chen-Gal-Naat-An. This is your key card. Your stay and all your meals are already paid for. Someone will assist you with your bags. We wish you a pleasant stay." All his life, his friends had pulled his leg with "Kali Chengi". Bloody northies, mangling up such a nice Tamizh name. Even his father had to put up with his Gujarati Seth always calling him "Sengal bhai". Two generations of nomenclature-induced embarrassment in the Chengalnathan clan just vanished thanks to this petite lady, with her polished accent calling him Mr. Chen-Gal-Naat-An. Never had he imagined that his name would sound so fancy. He had branded himself "KC' in college and at his job. And thought that was fancy. It didn't sound as fancy now.
Wow. This is the life, he thought to himself. Fancy flight, fancy car and now fancy hotel. All company paid. Blue-eyed blonde airhostesses smiling at him. Petite hotel reception staff cutely mispronouncing his name. In his mind, he was already married twice now, one blue-eyed blonde wife, one petite brunette, four kids, two houses and two swimming pools...
Life was perfect. Everything was perfect. If only these bloody Americans could put a jet-spray in their toilets, he wished as filled up from the sink his 'spare' water bottle brought specifically for this purpose.
If only.
*******************************************************************************
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