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 Actually with my luck you'd have checked-in in time for a change, stood dutifully in line, behind screeching children, couples in all forms of acrobatic embrace, bustling mothers and harried fathers (there was a time when you'd have 'harried mother's' , but now that's all changed), pushy disproportionate posteriors, and 10 bodies away from the security check had your flight cancelled.
Day 0, its really been one...23rd Dec, 2006
 Sweet god, you're wondering why me... and you go to the counter, the lady's unruffled, she's smiling and dealing with every variety of queries... have a nice flight's uttered so many times, that by now you're feeling like a pariah mutt, when you meekly submit and say, 'for cancellation' - she's grabbed your ticket, booked you on the next flight and managed to again say 'have a nice flight'
That's the past, now.. since my well wisher's have left, the luck's been better and am off to srinagar. Its the height of winters and some cynics have warned me, that 'you'll be freezing like a christmas turkey in the freezer.'
Tomorrow's d'day, I'll be on the Dal Lake on a house-boat by now, sipping Kahwa and enjoyng the warm company of my Kashmiri friends.
24th Dec, day 1... the beginning
 well, luck's turned, that's for sure... Delhi (OK the secret's out, that's where I stay) has a crisp sunshiny morning, the flight was on time and we after a jouney mostly spent insatiatbly looking out of the window at the the changing scenery outside, was at the Srinagar airport. Very impressive if you cut out the heavy policing, brand new and very cosmo looking terminal, no they've not kept it ethnic, they could have, it would have really added to the appeal.
 Well Mushtaq, my close friend was there at the airport to pick me up. All smiles, truly happy and showing it unabashedly - Strange, how friendships start, met him just a couple of years ago, struck off well...
At the houseboat, well that's Shamshad, the houseboat we will put up at I came to know, preparations have been buzzing all morning. There's Rashida, our man on the Dal Lake, he rules Gate no. 4. Then obviously there's Chaha and Ammi, warmth and smiles the minute we step aboard. the 5 deg temp outside and te biting cold vanish to hugs and unending cups of the most heavenly home-brewed Kahwa ( Kashmiri tea, brewed with spices and nuts to keep you real cosy)
 The afternoon is a laze, there's lunch of course, 5 courses of deliciousness, fullness and constant cajoling to eat more (we've supposedly shrunk to the bone). Ammi has obviously spent the good part of the morning cooking and we polish of the spread that had seemed mountainous with scarcely a burp to mark the vanishing act.
The whole family's there, young izzaz has grown, enough to keep his hair long, and he refuses to get me scissor's even to cut the tags on the luggage, in the mortally confessed fear that i will cut off his locks. the sister's are just unstoppable, no briefing could be more chaotic and more enjoyable, as i'm filled in with all the news, though reminded that its been a long time. Sufficiently submissive, I just shut up and listen even as the afternoon draws to evening. Interruptions are plenty, the shawl seller, the jewelllery guy, flower wala and even an enthu photographer who promises me that in traditional kashmiri dress i'll look regal - all shoo'ed away with such gusto that they're visibly aghast.
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