Mullah Nasiruddin Modern Tales -2

A street cat approached him for some food. He bought a pack of biscuits from a nearby store and started feeding the cat. Cats are everywhere in the streets of Istanbul.

The cat finished the entire packet of cream biscuit. He smiled remembering an incident a week back, when his wife had told her the resident cat had finished off a Kg of lamb meat. He looked into his phone’s screen, an app appeared and assigned a taxi to the hotel booked for him in Targut Ozal Cadessi, in Topkapi, Istanbul. The taxi driver was a career cabbie, in his fifties, with a jovial approach. He held the door for our old man and introduced himself, ‘Gokhan.’ He drove by the seaside avenue for about ten kilometers before dropping him to the hotel. The old man paid him in cash, and patted lovingly on his back. Gokhan took his right hand and kissed it before taking the money and handed over the change and his business card. He has a fleet of eight Fiat Linea cars. He would love to take the old man around, anywhere in and around the city.

The old man checked into the hotel with no luggage. The lady at reception noticed that and handed him over the room card. He took it and waited for a very long time until a trainee steward approached him, held the elevator doors for him, and helped him with the room card while he fumbled to enter his room with the card to open the door. He gave a small tip to the young steward which the boy touched in his eyelids and kept it safely tucked in his hip pocket.

He was tired, he had to hit the bed before it’s late. He had a morning flight to catch. He would go to Delhi, in India. A car will wait for him at the airport, to take him to a city called Ajmer which would be about 7-8 hours’ drive. He would stay there in a Sufi Hanegah (He couldn’t pronounce Khanqah) and would visit the legendary Sufi saint’s Mausoleum, the revered seat of Chishtia order of Sufism. He ate from the bowl of fruit kept in his room & drank water from a glass bottle and drifted into a deep sleep.

Early that morning, Gokhan dropped him to Kamal Ataturk Airport. He was waiting near his hotel, usually he got passengers to drop them at the airport. Morning proved to be lucky, he got a British couple on his way back for a long trip to the Grand Bazar and then a drop to their hotel.

The old man boarded a Kuwait Airways flight after waiting for almost an hour. The flight to Kuwait was about three hours, he started reading a magazine on world affairs. The cabin attendants served all the passengers in his row, except him. He didn’t complaint, he returned to his book. An argument broke out between a passenger and a cabin crew in the Business Class, a few seats away. Reportedly the girl hadn’t served the Business class passenger his breakfast, and he was shouting at the top of his lungs. Nasruddin walked up to the galley, picked up a tray of breakfast and walked thru’ the aisles before handing over the tray to the upset passenger, smiled and went back to his seat. The girl apologized to the arguing passenger humbly, added a glass of fresh juice to his meal, asked for his preference of hot beverage, and upgraded the old man to the Business class first seat.

The old man was engrossed in global affairs in his magazine while the girl returned with a tray, full of fresh fruits, warm breakfast rolls with butter & strawberry preserves, a large cup of freshly brewed coffee, opened his tray table and placed the food in front of him. He smiled at her, picked up a bread and touched it on his Business Class seat’s armrest as if to feed the seat some bread, and then started applying some butter on it with a knife, muttering… “Most of us have a sense of entitlement. The moment the expectations are not met for some reason, the arguments start.” (to be contd.)

A street cat approached him for some food. He bought a pack of biscuits from a nearby store and started feeding the cat. Cats are everywhere in the streets of Istanbul.

The cat finished the entire packet of cream biscuit. He smiled remembering an incident a week back, when his wife had told her the resident cat had finished off a Kg of lamb meat. He looked into his phone’s screen, an app appeared and assigned a taxi to the hotel booked for him in Targut Ozal Cadessi, in Topkapi, Istanbul. The taxi driver was a career cabbie, in his fifties, with a jovial approach. He held the door for our old man and introduced himself, ‘Gokhan.’ He drove by the seaside avenue for about ten kilometers before dropping him to the hotel. The old man paid him in cash, and patted lovingly on his back. Gokhan took his right hand and kissed it before taking the money and handed over the change and his business card. He has a fleet of eight Fiat Linea cars. He would love to take the old man around, anywhere in and around the city.

The old man checked into the hotel with no luggage. The lady at reception noticed that and handed him over the room card. He took it and waited for a very long time until a trainee steward approached him, held the elevator doors for him, and helped him with the room card while he fumbled to enter his room with the card to open the door. He gave a small tip to the young steward which the boy touched in his eyelids and kept it safely tucked in his hip pocket.

He was tired, he had to hit the bed before it’s late. He had a morning flight to catch. He would go to Delhi, in India. A car will wait for him at the airport, to take him to a city called Ajmer which would be about 7-8 hours’ drive. He would stay there in a Sufi Hanegah (He couldn’t pronounce Khanqah) and would visit the legendary Sufi saint’s Mausoleum, the revered seat of Chishtia order of Sufism. He ate from the bowl of fruit kept in his room & drank water from a glass bottle and drifted into a deep sleep.

Early that morning, Gokhan dropped him to Kamal Ataturk Airport. He was waiting near his hotel, usually he got passengers to drop them at the airport. Morning proved to be lucky, he got a British couple on his way back for a long trip to the Grand Bazar and then a drop to their hotel.

The old man boarded a Kuwait Airways flight after waiting for almost an hour. The flight to Kuwait was about three hours, he started reading a magazine on world affairs. The cabin attendants served all the passengers in his row, except him. He didn’t complaint, he returned to his book. An argument broke out between a passenger and a cabin crew in the Business Class, a few seats away. Reportedly the girl hadn’t served the Business class passenger his breakfast, and he was shouting at the top of his lungs. Nasruddin walked up to the galley, picked up a tray of breakfast and walked thru’ the aisles before handing over the tray to the upset passenger, smiled and went back to his seat. The girl apologized to the arguing passenger humbly, added a glass of fresh juice to his meal, asked for his preference of hot beverage, and upgraded the old man to the Business class first seat.

The old man was engrossed in global affairs in his magazine while the girl returned with a tray, full of fresh fruits, warm breakfast rolls with butter & strawberry preserves, a large cup of freshly brewed coffee, opened his tray table and placed the food in front of him. He smiled at her, picked up a bread and touched it on his Business Class seat’s armrest as if to feed the seat some bread, and then started applying some butter on it with a knife, muttering… “Most of us have a sense of entitlement. The moment the expectations are not met for some reason, the arguments start.” (to be contd.)