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After 22 hours of flight and two layovers, I somehow arrived in Kerala India right on time. I was sure my bag would have somehow gotten lost in London or Doha, but there it was waiting for me on the belt. I grabbed my bag and rushed outside to find my friend Divakar (pronounced Di-vahck-er).
I had always talked about visiting Divakar in his hometown of Kannur, but it was always going to be some day down the road. Well, that day had finally come.
When I made it outside, I looked around, but didn’t see Divakar right away. I finally found him, fumbling around with his cell phone. I snuck up on him and whispered, “Hello, Divakar.” A smile lit up his face and we embraced.
Divakar told me that he had just gotten off the phone with my wife, Karla. (I wonder if anyone named Karla has ever been to Kerala. This would be confusing for everyone.) Divakar knew that she would be anxiously awaiting confirmation of my safe arrival to India, so he had thoughtfully called her even before I had gotten out of the baggage area.
After a few minutes of catching up with each other, Divakar pressed a button on the phone, handed it to me and told me to talk to my wife. As I was lifting the handset to my face, a message on the phone caught my attention and made me smile. It said: “Dialing Mrs. Scott.”
