Ravi searched for space to rest his arm. He found a small space where he tried squeezing his elbow into. He did not wish to wake her up. She looked peaceful. It made him think that his arms are quite thin anyway. What’s the big deal? He just removed his arm from the armrest. The lady turned to him and set her head gently onto his shoulder. The Jewish Star of David pendant on her ageing breasts followed her movement a second later. Ravi smiled and thought of his mom. She always taught him to adjust and not complain. His sweet mother. The one he left to die in a home full of leaking gas.     

He looked out the window as the sun was shining on his face. The guy on his right wore a golden Hongkong broach on his jacket and reeked of sweat. He could hear his farts between the long snores of the lady on his left. He thought he preferred the smell of cheap flight alcohol from the lady versus the lingering garlic smell of the loud and menacing fart machine. Ravi’s mother always taught him to keep quiet. The world is hard on people who complain too much. Don’t be a whiner. Be a fixer.

In the jampacked flight where the ocean of heads filled his sight, he saw a male flight attendant walk with a glass of water. He bowed to a fellow passenger and handed over the glass with a genuine smile. Ravi recollected the smile of Ying. Ying would smile at him the same way each morning as he would kiss him good morning. They were working at the same bar and learning Wing Chun Kung Fu together.

Ravi had to move Ying out of his flat while his mother visited him last month. She made the most delicious poori cholas. He was looking forward to tasting some of her signature recipes soon. He hated garlic. So, she ensured that the food was always to his liking, garlicless. There was always one pressure from her though. He must marry Parvati, her best friend’s daughter. But what about Ying? He decided to tell her about Ying this time.

The flight finally landed in San Francisco. Ravi excused himself and politely walked out of the plane to this new city with the new identity as Manish. He felt the souvenirs from the flight in his pocket. The David pendant and the golden broach. Just as golden as that unfortunate morning sun. When he turned on the cylinder gas that morning, he had already tied his mother to the bed. Her hands and her mouth. It was easier than explaining why he loved a man over a woman. Who likes to be a Whiner?