Of all means of transport, I like airplanes the most. This comes from a trouble-giver’s point of view because quite clearly, the number of trouble-takers per passenger is the highest in case of air travel. Even before you enter an airport, people start taking trouble.
Illiterate policemen try to make sense out of tickets while playing a game of match-the-alphabets on the ticket with those on the photo ID. Once, I had a horrid time trying to explain that it is not the “wrong date” on my ticket but is actually my license’s “expiry date”. Then you stumble upon the second set of policemen, for whom every car without a red lamp has come from the enemy territory. Their hand movements are so fierce that those poor lads who come to collect trolleys, strategically place them in the way of their hands to save considerable time and energy and thereby generate acceleration (of trolleys) and mass (on bellies).
You try entering the door-frame with a light that, I bet, would continue to blink in the same nonchalant way if its holding company is installed in a nuclear factory or as a prop on a movie set depicting operation in a hospital. The policemen next to this door take the match-the-alphabets somewhat seriously or rather give an impression of and take the time for doing so. They stand in front of each other so as to create a narrow gap between their security-pets, which by the way are not their problems. The permanent problem of their life is to discern passengers from bye-bidders. By design, these guys say the sentence, “Kahaa ghuse chale aa rahe ho?” after roughly every 4th person who tries to enter. One is dying to stand outside the gate at a wedding of such a policeman’s kid wherein he would be standing at the gate to welcome the guests. Not their fault really. Bye-bidders do try to sneak in every now and then so as to continue with their show of emotions for a few extra meters. All that these people want to do is sit on those hinged chairs, get a feel of the posh airport, grab a bite in the 10x shop and show off to people standing outside that they’ve done these three things.
Somehow the baggage screening section seems to be the happiest. I think I know why (or I have told myself so). The person who looks in your bag records the funniest items and shares them with other members just before closing hours. It’s true (or I have told myself so). Your fatey-puraane-rang-birangi you-know-whats do rounds of their cell phones!
One of the business tricks of the airline industry is to paint “n-2” boards saying “Counter closed” where “n” is the number of boarding pass counters. Long queues are characterized by one family member standing in each queue, acting like Anil Kapoor in mid 90s with hands spread out and neck springing back and forth in a manner to say –“Yeh apun ka ilaaka hai”. This is also the starting point of many stages where one needs to be careful of children. These children not only try to force their way ahead under your nose (and legs) but also cry foul if your trolley touches their feet. “Uncle ne pair pe trolley chadhaai!” While you are still thinking whether to open your mouth and say, “Bhaiyya bolo beta,” the crowd is already on to you, “Itna badaa aadmi aur itne se bachhe pe trolley chadhaa di!” When this happens, do not hesitate in pushing your trolley on the feet of three people standing in front of you for they weren’t actually there before the ruckus started. On reaching the front end of the queue, one must not get too involved with the person facing you. In order to win a verbal battle with these beings, one must belong to the parliament or kitchen or streets. Do not waste time showcasing your sense of humor/money/market/chivalry to the lipstick/powder/broken English plastered girl. There is very slim chance that you would meet her ever again and she would give in to your demand of granting you a seat of your choice or allowing you to carry a 30 Kg laptop bag (with clothes which refuse to come in the other bag) under the pretext of “My laptop is totally unlike you, ji. It is old and heavy.” (Good line, eh?) Beware! These people are known to sandwich dangerous questions like “Do you want to upgrade your seat to business class at only Rs.1500?” between layers of innocuous ones like “Are you having a good time at the airport? Are you going on a business trip? Are you carrying hand luggage? Do you use Axe deodorant? Are you free this weekend? Are you single?” This information is especially for those who nod “Yes” to everything coming from across the counter.
The security check counter is nothing but a behtareen mujaaira of strategic alliance between 20x to 30x shops and the airport. People are allowed to reach the counter after substantial zigzagging giving kids a substantial amount of time to take a look at Wafers, toy cars, water bottles and other fake need-fulfilling things. Water bottles are of course not allowed to reach the counters. A theory (just made up by me) says that the water collected at the counters magically finds its way back in sealed bottles to be sold 3 hours later. The policeman near the X-ray machine bellows “Apna mobile apne bag mein rakhiye (hamaara koi bharosa nahi).” Laptop carriers face a tough time here. I have seen a person taking time off to select the “Do not show hidden files and folders” radio button in order to hide his hidden files and folders from the X-ray machine. Even if just two passengers populate this area, one will be seen (by the other one, of course) arguing with the officers about either his safed baal kaatne ki kaichi or maaji ki khaasi ki dawaai or bachhe ke gaadi ke cell.
The stuff you buy in the waiting room area hurts you at around 50x and I bet you don’t spit or throw it away because of the 50 before the ‘x’.
Every time I get in the bus that takes the passengers to the airplane, I swear I have heard this extremely funny line – “Abe kya bus se le jaa rahe hai kya?” The speaker can be usually spotted looking around for supporters to laugh at the extremely funny line.
Irrespective of what you have been told by the blue TVs or the wildly fluttering black plates or the pilot himself, you will be seated in the aircraft for around half an hour with nothing to do besides looking outside, counting planes, hoping for a hot co-passenger, praying for a not-stupid-co-passenger, trying to work the blower, reading the instructions manual, coming across picture of a kid and then finally settling on to praying that a kid sits nowhere near you. If you are surrounded on all sides by kids below the age of five, do understand that this is where the boarding-pass-counter-person has registered a huge victory. The only positive side to this is that you feel that the sad music is being played exclusively for you. Also, this is where you start wishing that planes had operable windows. We have come a long way in this evolution course to now imbue the fact that in planes, kids go off like alarms. It is so obvious that it should be included in the airhostesses’ act.
Even people in deep sleep, wake up at the smell of free food. Conversely, wide awake people act fast asleep if food is to be bought. She tries waking you up. You refuse. You let her pass and call her out. “Excuse me, do you have water?” She is rugged and is your-rug-rug-se-waakif. “Sir, it will be 30 rupees.” You gulp at nothing; go back to sleep and start dreaming about the bottle you left at security-check.
Don’t know why but somewhere we believe that attaining nirvana would be an impossibility if we act as we are told for more than a certain amount of time t. This time t is reached as soon as the plane grounds. Cell phones come out by themselves as if they would assist in contradicting the pilot’s useless information of temperature, pressure, humidity and wind speed. Continuing with my betting spree (given that nobody’s eventually going to win or lose anything), I bet that some people carelessly start them (to attain nirvana), carefully disable roaming and say these exact same words – “Ha pahoch gaya hoon. Lene aa jaao.”
