An entrepreneur friend of mine from Delhi landed in Bangalore (where I live) the other week. Huffing and puffing, he barged in through the door and plonked himself on the couch, exhaling loudly as he ripped off the metal clamp that he had inserted his nose into.
I looked at my watch. He was a good five hours late. I was about to ask him the reason for the delay in his flight when he silenced me with a stinker. “Yaar, what the eff is wrong with your city?”
I asked him to relax, not knowing what the eff he was talking about.
The friend snorted, beckoning for a hand-held fan. “You know? It was easier to find Bangalore from the air earlier. It used to be a patch of friendly green when you looked down. Today, the pilot circled for two hours but couldn’t spot the darned city!”
Obviously, the three-hour flight plus the five-hour delay had somehow tickled him the wrong way (or in the wrong place). But Bangalore is still green, I protested.