RETURN TO INNOCENCE

Velvet Lips -- Part 1

I first met HIM in Jordan. In August, 2022. Jordan is a country in the Middle East. Sandwiched between Syria in the North, Saudi Arabia in the South, Iraq in the East, and Israel in the West. Unlike its neighbours, Jordan is not an oil-producing country. So, it does not have an oil-rich economy. It is, what is known as, a lower-middle income country.

Why did I travel to Jordan? Well, I have been to the Middle East before - to Dubai and Abu Dhabi for instance. But after my dream world that I had built with the old artist Ashwani Bhargav came crashing down in November, 2021, I yearned for solitude. I wanted to get lost. I wanted to disappear.

The reason I chose Jordan was its history. One of the oldest societies in the world, the earliest human habitation in Jordan dates back to almost 2,00,000 years! Its ancient city Petra was the capital of one of the many Arab kingdoms. Petra's ruins, 2300 years old, still remain almost intact, unravaged by time.

But that was not the only reason I chose Jordan. Petra was not my destination. I wanted to lose myself in the turquoise blue waters of the Red Sea. And situated on the banks of the Red Sea is Aqaba, Jordan's only port city. And my destination.

Chapter 1 - Me and Him on the Desert Highway

There are no direct flights from India to Jordan. The easiest way to reach Aqaba is to go via Dubai, or Abu Dhabi, or Kuwait City, or Bahrain. From there, another connecting flight will take you to Jordan's capital Amman. From Amman, a 6 - hour 338 km drive through the Desert Highway (also known as Highway 15) takes you to Aqaba.

There are domestic flights between Amman and Aqaba too. But I had read so much about the Desert Highway and how fascinating the ride is, that I decided to book a cab from Queen Alia International Airport in Amman.
That was where I first met Him. At the Immigration Counter of Queen Alia International Airport.

My immigration check was over and I had collected my luggage. I went over to the Prepaid / Postpaid SIM card kiosks located right outside the immigration counter. And stood confused.

There were 3 kiosks of 3 separate service providers - Zain, Umniah and Orange. All 3 providing identical services for the same price. I could not make up my mind which prepaid SIM card to buy.

"Go for Zain, they have the best coverage," said a voice behind my back.
I turned around and saw Him. A tall, handsome, clean shaven, relatively young man, carrying a laptop bag on his shoulder. He had no luggage. And He looked Indian.

I said nothing. Since childhood I have been a rebel. In spirit as well as in action. I don't like being told what to do. Certainly not by a stranger. I went over to the Umniah kiosk, showed them my passport, and asked for a prepaid SIM.

"Bad choice," the voice said again. "Umniah has dodgy connection, especially if you are going to Aqaba."

I felt mildly irritated. This is not how I had foreseen the beginning of my vacation - with unsolicited advice from a stranger. I frowned and replied, "I will take my chances."

"As you wish," He said and went past me outside the exit door. I got the new prepaid SIM installed in my phone. It cost me 10 JD (Jordanian Dinars).

Next stop was the prepaid taxi kiosks. And the charges were exorbitant. The lowest fare was 150 JD. One JD is equal to 117 Indian Rupees, so the entire ride from Amman to Aqaba would set me back by almost 18000 rupees!

I kept thinking whether the desert ride was indeed worth that amount of money, whether I should have booked a domestic flight instead. And then I heard Him again.

"Hi there!" He waved from the driver's seat of a car inside the parking lot. I was surprised that He was not in a cab.

"Going to Aqaba I suppose?" He smiled and asked.