The Anxiety That Looks Like Competence

Siddharth’s flight to Delhi leaves at 9.05. He is at the gate at 6.15. This is not an accident of traffic. He has a formula, arrived at over years, which adds a margin for the cab not coming, a margin for the road, a margin for the queue at security, and a margin for the margins. His boarding pass is on his phone, in his email, and printed, in the front pocket of his bag, where his passport also is, though the flight is domestic. He has checked the pocket twice since the cab. He sits down facing the departure board and checks it again.