ThE NighT i FleW

(continued from - the day i flew (see below) )

If the morning flight enthralled me, the night one left me speechless.

It was nothing like the creature that had taken me to Pune, a day before. It seemed more mechanical, more digitalized, more human.

With perfect harmony between itself and the runaway, it slid into motion smoothly, and all of a sudden like a bullet launched itself into the air.

From a Godly height, the night sky makes one realize that we humans are not really as disastrous as we are made out to be. Down below, in perfect symmetry, millions and millions of shiny little pinpricks watched us fly, shimmering in synchronization all the while.

There were clear cut divisions between the vacuum-black and the futuristic light zones, as if an architect had just designed the view for my eyes.

There was no sense of the raw, animalistic feeling attached to the flight which had been so prominent during the day. On the contrary, the night was completely governed by a pride at being human.

The lights of the plane were switched off, as we left the city, making us realize how black, black really could be. Completely plunged into darkness, with only the engine's humming to guide us, I felt numb.

Looking out of the window i saw nothing but a single star, probably guiding us.

Rising a little further up, the sky seemed like a sandwich made of 2 huge slices of the blackest bread. Gobbled up between these slices was a thin layer of faintly visible cheese and salami, in the form of a line of clouds.

A silky voice then rang out from the microphone above my head, announcing the arrival of a tasty array of snacks. The night sky and the plane, all suddenly seemed frivolous and all i could think of was the hot chicken tikkas, the shammi kababs, the aloooo tikiiiiess and the hot coffeeee that i would soon be served....
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Come the fuck on! hurry up!
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Goddamnit, ten minutes have passed and the air hostess is still nowhere near my aisle! I'm gonnaa need some muthrfkin food quick or SOMEBODY'S GONNA GET HURT REAL BAD!

All right fine, that was stolen from Russell Peters, but u cant really expect a hungry and irritated writer to focus on originality!
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AARGHHH! BLASPHEMY!
MURDER!
FRAUD@!

I got stupid cold n dry paneer paranthas and even drier chicken sandwiches for a freaking 300 bucks! Fuck u INdiGo airlines!
what all i couldve had with 300 back on land!

A KFC 12 peice bucket with coke...
or a full days meal at Mc. D's..
or perhaps, a naiice double cheese burst cheese margehrita at dominoes...

I am Fucked up beyond all repair.

Cannot ..
Continue..
writing..

Need ..
to..
regain..
my..
honor..

must..
kill..
someone..