Checking-In
Feb 22nd, 2010 by Abdul Ghani
The Front Office Manager offers me a room on the fourteenth floor. ‘Breathtaking views’ he says reassuringly. He smiles and hands me the key. It is the kind of smile that is reserved for crazed foreigners; the kind that hang out in rainforests with the local crocs and wildlife. The concierge looks relieved to find I have no luggage. I have been travelling without luggage ever since the accident in Burma. I take the elevator to my floor. It is six o’clock in the morning. The room is a comfortable haven for the weak and tired. I order some breakfast. I can’t remember when I ate a morsel last let alone a meal. My mind is tired and weary. A lethal recipe to procrastinate. I decide to shower and pray. I cannot switch off just yet.
Breakfast is an array of culinary delights. Perhaps my shoddy appearance prompted some extra TLC. I savour each mouthful, sip my orange juice and pick up the phone. It really is time to check-in.
The phone rings forever in long overseas tones. I am about to hang up and try again when I hear a click. ‘Maryam’ I shout ‘Can you hear me?’ and thus we commence an hour long conversation. My dear family are all well. There is so much news to share. I listen patiently and talk to each of my children. I listen to their stories and updates. Zainab reads a poem. Junaid tells me that he has been studying the Far East. Maryam finally takes the phone from them. I am mentally and physically exhausted. I am barely able to give salam before I pass out on the bed.