Adventures of The Last Crusader – III

The Airbus A320 gleamed in the sunlight, with Syrian Air emblazoned across it in hues of bright blue.  The descending aircraft rumbled thickly, as it prepared to make a landing.

The City of Jasmine lay sprawling beneath the hovering metal bird, eager to welcome its newest paramour.

J sat on the edge of his seat, his hands gripping the back of the headrest in front of him.

Sweaty palms, and knuckles gone white with the effort, gave away the man who otherwise would appear unflinching in the most trying circumstances.

“Darn it!” he let out a guttural groan, as the carrier took its final plunge towards a smooth landing.

J finally loosened the death grip he had over the seat in front, and rested back for a minute.

He took a couple of deep breaths and flexed his legs, as if preparing them for the marathon that lay ahead.

A bevy of people buzzing around at the luggage lounge greeted J, as he made his way to the exit. The city airport or DAM, as it is popularly referred to, was a picture of utter chaos.

Having recovered his composure, J zipped his way across the over-crowded arrival lounge to approach the exit.

A step out the sliding glass doors and wham! A blast of hot air hit like a fist in his face. “Oh man! Not this damn weather again!”

But weather woes were soon to sink into oblivion. There were tougher turfs that lay ahead of him.


“Umayyad Mosque,” a frustrated J took care to reinforce phonetically for the benefit of the cab driver, who looked ill at ease with his British accent.

He was assailed by a sense of déjà vu on entering the old city.

Had he been here before?

Was he ever a witness to time rolling its dice across these narrow damascene streets, which formed the pathways to exploration of one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities of the world?

Impressive mosques with daunting domes, bustling souks with an array of merchandise on display, old houses with brightly tinted glass windows and arches; J’s eyes got busy taking it all in.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, making J suddenly all too aware of the fact that he was perspiring like there was no tomorrow!

Hastily pulling out a kerchief from the pocket of his stone-washed blue denims, he wiped his brow while mumbling under his breath.

He hadn’t flown thousands of miles to crib about the flight being bumpy or it being too hot to handle or the linguistic handicap, J reprimanded himself.

This was something way bigger than all of that, something larger than life. This was something he had feverishly dreamt of for a zillion nights in a row. This was his destiny.

To be continued…


~ by eugenicist on July 27, 2012.

One Response to “Adventures of The Last Crusader – III”

  1. Great info and well written. Keep up the good stuff!

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