Blah blah ride.

Sitting in the waiting lounge of the Dum Dum Airport, all I could think about was how fast I could get back home. Continuous messages that I sent and received made me all the more anxious to get home as soon as possible. So in that mood, when the gravelly voice of the airport executive announced that our flight’s boarding would now begin, I seized my backpack and started walking swiftly towards the already lengthening line; I guess everyone was in a hurry. But as I should have known, some people coolly disregarded the line and flocked towards the entrance, where they were (haha) told to get into line. Their “getting into line” was shoving a few people already in the line to get into line. Ha. As a few passengers around me muttered “illiterate” and “uncouth”, all I could do was laugh. Not at them; but just at the way this woman used her bum to shove a gentleman into giving her space in the line. As the line slowly progressed, suddenly we heard a clamour of voices ahead, right in front of the line. Apparently, a group of passengers who were obviously all related to each other could not find their boarding passes. As a fat lady sat down to search for the passes in a jute bag full of handheld fans and tiffin boxes, another meanwhile took off her six-year old’s pants (he apparently had shitted in his undies and needed a change). As the next few passengers demanded to be dealt with, two men shouted out to someone “Pammi, mere paas hai !!” So finally, the issue solved, finally our turn came and we boarded the bus (with great difficulty, for people WILL trod on your feet or place their luggage conveniently on your toes) that would take us to the plane. While standing in line to climb the steps of the plane, suddenly a ‘lady’ materialized by my side and persistently egged her way in front of me, angrily urging her husband to do the same. The unwilling husband remained behind while she and I battled an entry to the plane (which I inevitably lost). Finally securing a window seat for ma, I settled down on the middle seat while I wished for a non-annoying fellow passenger. Anyway, with a rocky take-off (pun intended), I settled down to read the part of Jane Eyre I was supposed to finish. But as the smell of achaar hit my senses, I looked to the other aisle to see the Pammi’s mother-in-law (I’m guessing) opening a tin of matris and paranthas. As she passed around the thick paranthas to her sons, I tried going back to my book. But hunger intercepted and while eating cheese sandwiches and “something to munch on” (that’s how they described it), I looked around to see what was going on. They apparently had something called “Simplibid” going on, and the same group was arguing over something with the air-hostess. Apparently, they had a certain amount above which bidding took place and they were trying to argue their way into bidding for less. As the air-hostess patiently explained them that they had to abide by the rules and reasoned how they wouldn’t win anyway if they bid too low, one man hollered to the air-hostess, “Yeh dono behene hain. Inka add karke dekh lo zyaada aayega.” As she explained again how she had to follow the rules, the man commented to the man she was reasoning with, “Abbey eh toh ladaayi karaake chhodegi.” It made me angry. I could feel it coming. What did I do? I waited for her response. First she went pink. With humiliation. Then red. With apparently suppressed anger. She managed to collect the things she had in her tray for showing people interested in bidding. She put on a blank face and asked them whether they wanted their money back or would they bid. She quietly wheeled her tray away. I won’t lie. The first thing I thought was how Pari would have handled (or not handled) the situation, if it had been her. Would she have flared up, like the Pari I know so well? Or would she have managed even better?? It worried me. Which is why I related this to her, waiting to see what she would say. She was curious to know what the airhostess had done. I guess she’s as worried. Anyway. Moving on to my till now un-introduced neighbour. Oh, the horror. Sigh.

Ma has this annoying habit of striking up conversation with otherwise utter strangers. Grrr. So this guy who was sitting next to me and MA start talking. While I TRY to read. By the end of fifteen minutes, she already knows that he is the eldest of four sons and two sisters (which he, incidentally, added as an afterthought, “Oh, they, too, exist!!” Chauvinist pig.), has a wife and two kids, lives in Saket I Block, works with the Airport ground personnel (a job that his father got him, who’s a senior Airport official), likes to eat paushtic roti, plays the sitar as a hobby, has a nephew who studies English through correspondence, has a son who wants to grow up to be a pilot (have you noticed how he coolly “forgets” to talk about the females he is associated with him?), and so on… And ON. The result of which is the “poor slightly dull and mentally slow man” (Ma’s description) conveniently asks to sit in the window seat the minute Ma gets up to go “powder her nose” (overdose of Victorian texts). Bah. The SAME window seat that I struggled passionately to bag, and then gallantly gave up for Ma, for she likes them so much. And Ma let him. Aaarghh. Bloody philanthropist. ^*$@*$@*. Hmpf !

Anyway, as soon as Ma left, this (ugh) person tries to initiate a conversation with me. ME !! Robbing me of the seat and then acting friendly ! The audacity !! Grr. A few cryptic half sentences later, the thick-headed guy got the hint. Whatever. I read on.

When Ma came back, the conversation began. AGAIN. Thankfully I was no longer sitting in the middle. Phew. Soon, his bladder squeaked too. Do I let an opportunity slide? Ha. I was in the seat he vacated (MY seat, which I had graciously given to Ma, the ungrateful creature... Hmpf) in a flash. Like that. Hehe. YAY !! I rock. Lalala... *contented sigh*

The rest of the journey was uneventful. I read. They chatted. Yawn. But then, we were about to reach Delhi. Fifteen minutes, they said. As we descended from above the clouds, I could see lights. Bright lights in the darkness of night. Little squares of light. In well-regulated harmony. We went up again. Then dipped. Somehow, seeing the same lights for the second time within a span of ten minutes was more beautiful than seeing them for the first time. Ma leaned in as i squealed in delight. (*grimaces* Yeah, i squealed). That's when I felt a little sorry for the annoying man. But I couldn't very well help it, could I? (Okay maybe I felt a little guilty. Bah. Why can't we choose the genes we want to inherit??)

As impatient I was, till even a few moments back, for the plane to land, and I to reach home, I was suddenly reluctant. Reluctant to come closer to the lights I admired from above, reluctant to keep the back of my seat upright like we were instructed, reluctant to let go of the moment. But I eventually did do just that. Tore my eyes away from the window, straightened my seat, land. The landing was soft. No bumps. Kind. I wonder why people are afraid of flying. The loss of control over one's life? The height? The motion? A lot of reasons which I'm possibly completely unaware of. Fear sucks. I hate fearing things. They interfere with what I want in too many occasions.

When we DID land, everyone got up to get their stuff from the overhead cabinets... And as usual, people knocked their heads while taking out their bags, and push-push, shove-shove. This weird uncle next to me did this weird booty shake that I swear would give Beyonce a run for her money. Apparently it was to make space around him in order to lower his bag. I think I'll try that one sometime too. So anyway, while we waited to be let out (for what seemed like AEONS!), everyone just glared at each other in this really competitive way, as if daring the other to try push him/her and you-shall-see-what-happens. Someone let out a long fart. Yuck. Not in a crowded aisle, have mercy! We finally descended *phew* to wait for the buses to chauffeur us to the airport lounge. Everytime a bus would arrive, there would be a tumultuous movement around us as everyone would lunge forward to get a seat, along with their spouse/child/luggage/tiffin/bag/all-of-the-above. Crazy. Tired by now, we just waited till the last bus came, and went as dignifiedly as possible. Trodden toes notwithstanding.

We FINALLY reached the airport, finally located the belt that would have our luggage, could NOT get a trolley ("khatam ho gaya madam"), finally spotted our bags, found out that they broke the handle of MY PRECIOUS roll-on, heaved the two till the gate (there absolutely was not any place to actually roll 'em on *grrr*. And that was it. We were out. Out under the open sky, where dada smiled at us the moment we saw each other, and we were soon on our way home, bags secure in the back and us chattering away. The end wasn't too bad. But never do I travel in Air Deccan again. Blah.