‘On the road to trivandrum
Coconut oil in my hair..’
The ever invigorating lyrics of Hotel Keralafonia are bouncing off the walls of my mind, kind of like a hippo balanced on a ski sled with stilts under it. All in all, not too smooth. It is a beautiful Saturday morning, as the Sun rises over the City of Dreams. I surface bright and early, bags packed, ready to roll.
Temporary destination - Santa Cruz Airport
Final Destination - The Capital
Reason - New Years Party ‘07
Departure - 8.20am
Mode of Travel - Air Deccan
Chapter 1 - Baggage Screening
Time Check - 7am
On first glance, I see half the population of Bombay on Hajj. A kind of orderly one if I may say so. Hajj with a multitude of trolleys. Hajj with people of various religions. Hajj without the stampede. Hajj in an air-conditioned surrounding. Hajj with an equal number of sleep-walkers, bored parents, impatient businessmen, and women-who’re-prepared-for-an-impromptu-meeting-with-Brad-Pitt-at-7am.
Ok.. I said AT FIRST GLANCE. I’m assuming the Hajj is rather different in reality. Peace.
For some retarded reason, Deccan decides that four aircrafts need to take off within twenty minutes of each other, early in the morning. The result - A queue a hundred strong. Really, just thinking about this all over again makes my fingers heavy.. They refuse to type.. sigh.. Forty minutes into the wait, I’m still twenty people away from the X-Ray machine.
Time Check - 7.40am
Just as I am getting ready to unpack my super-special-handy-collapsible-pocket-sized sleeping bag, I hear a frantic cry from behind, “All Daeli Pus-An-jar, please be screen baggage.” Divine intervention. A quick overtake from the right, and my Sardar Co-passenger and I are twenty places in front, nonchalantly looking around at the others, who for some strange reason look more than a little indignant. La La La La La..
Chapter 2 - Security
Time Check - 7.45 am
So we quickly collect our boarding cards and weave through the web of man-things in order to get to Security. Brillianto! Mama Mia.. MAMAAAAAAAAA… This queue’s got only another 70 people in it, and moving at the pace of a Buddhist Elephant who’s attained nirvana. A little tear quietly worms its way out of my eye and plops to the ground - well actually to my shoe. My life is flashing before my eyes. I think of all the happy times I’ve had, and some of the sad ones; drunken get-togethers, movies, girlfriends, break-ups, family, basketball. And then I think about how the downfall of a mighty person takes place. Another quiet tear finds its way to my shoe. The Fall from grace. How a person goes from screening baggage and clearing security in twenty minutes; to screening baggage being stuck in security for over an hour.
Time Check - 8.10am
Panic does a brilliant job of settling in when least expected. In general. This day my mind fights it for a bit and then gives in. And IT settles. I’m gonna miss my flight.. i’m gonna miss my flight.. i’m Fuckin well gonna miss my flight!! Help me oh no I’m not going to get to Delhi I’ll be stuck in Bombay and I don’t want to be I’ll spend New Year’s in the blasted airport I don’t want to see certain people help me help me how will I party with my sis who’s just come back to Delhi from the US damn shit crap fuck bugger arse fuckin hole…
Breathe, boy! I’m standing right behind the Sardar ***, who’s trying to sweet talk people into letting him break the queue, all the while maintaining the urgency in his voice. Side note - I must learn this someday. To keep my face straight, and persuade people to do things which suit me in a million ways (jumping with anticipation and joy from within, but not being allowed to show any of it), without letting on that it could be of any possible benefit. You know, kinda how business deals are made, I guess. Of course Surdie is politely (by and large, but not By the Large) refused by everyone in front of him. We are reduced to stamping our feet with frustration. My right shoe is a little damp by this time; can’t quite get the other eye to pop a tear out. Embarrassing really.
Time Check - 8.20am
So this is it. The End. Will there be no more divine intervention? Who helps people only once when they need it some more? That’s just cruel. Wait! Shhhh.. listen.. I hear it… “ALL DAELI PuS-AN-JARS, PLEASE!” Woohoo baby.. that would be us! Once again, giving polite nods all around, and staring down our noses at people in front of us, now behind us, we move to the Security area. I’m made to put my phone into a little tray which goes through the X-Ray Machine. However, wallets need not be put into trays. They can be checked my the hand-held metal detectors. Genius.. Sheer Genius.
***Chapter 2.5 - The Sardar
I completely forgot about this one. So the man’s in the airport at 7 on a cloudy Bombay morning, where all is dim. Except him. No sir! Standing tall at about 6′1″, the height accentuated (or not!) by a 40 inch waist. And designer-wear. And Designer-wear. And desig….blub blub blub.. In his defense, I really must add, that on a cloudy morning in that city, there’s always a chance of staring right AT the sun while you’re inside an Airport Terminal. That would explain the wrap-around Red Oakleys on his face.
Ahem.. So the black full sleeve sweater (ouch!) looks like something I would ideally expect on a body like Leonidas (This.. Is.. SHPARTAAA!!) but apparently he is unavailable to help display the best quality of the sweater - the fact that it hugs the wearer tighter than a koala does its mum (apparently busy on a shoot or thereabouts). So Leonidas’ body double a.k.a Baby-face Surdie steps in. But, in retrospect, without this exchange, I wouldn’t have ever figured out his waist size otherwise. Oh yippee yay ~
Right. Moving along. So at security there are plenty of boards around saying ‘No liquid items to be carried in hand baggage’ - Due to recent terrorist activities in the UK or some jazz. Surdie’s bag is called upon for checking. NOT NOW! Bugger him. Out come 4 bottles of cologne; Gucci, Armani, Bulgari and Ferrari. “Sir the sign says liquids are not allowed. You will have to leave these here.”
“What nonsense! These are not liquids. These are colognes. Can you not tell the difference. These are from Bangkok.”
Here’s where I leave him to argue and run towards the exit for the aircraft.
Time Check - 8.30am
Apparently the craft is waiting only for the two of us. Already ten minutes late. 
“Madam you need to understand, my phone’s at security. It’s fifty yards away from the craft. I haven’t lost it. I know where it’s lying. PLEASE let me get it. PLEASE PLEASE!” I’m begging the air-hostess.
“Let me ask the captain”. Captain says,”Hurry the hell up! we’re really late”
Time Check - 8.40am
I move out onto the ramp and start to descend. The ground officer starts screaming at me to get back in. I tell him about my phone. “Forget it man! FORGET IT! You’re phone’s gone man, you’re not getting it back now man. It’s over man!”
So I tell him in that case I need to get off the plane as my phone costs three times as much as my ticket. He says nothing doing. I finally tell him I have the captain’s permission. He doesn’t quite believe me so I call him into the plane to talk to Captain Sahib. He does. I sprint down the steps and run into the building. What phenomenal security, I say!
A passenger’s running all over the tarmac and then into the building. The only guard I come across asks me “Where are you going?”, without stopping me. I reply while on the run “to get my phone”. He nods, satisfied.
I reach security and ask the guard if he has my phone. He does. I take it, say thank you, and am about to leave, when he stops me. “Where are you going sir? You left your phone behind, no? It is your fault, no? Now you will fill a form, yes?” I try to tell him that my flight’s already half an hour late thanks to me. He’s not impressed. With a benign smile on his face he replies, “Arre Sahib, the flight will not go anywhere. I work here. I know how things function. You relax. If you want tea I will order?” I’m not sure whether to take him seriously or not. I decide against it. So I quickly fill in the form, and run back out. Nobody bothers checking my boarding pass while I exit the terminal. I wave at the guard and he waves back, asking if I got my phone. I’ve left him thirty yards behind by then.
Time check - 9am
I reach the craft. The ground officer is stepping out of the plane, looking grumpy as hell. He tells me I can get my phone. I hold up the phone and smile. He starts getting offended, “How could you…” I run past him before he can finish. I’m in my seat again. If looks could kill, My fellow travelers would’ve killed me a long time ago.
I smile. Life is beautiful.
Time check - We’re 40 minutes late, take the hell off already!
Who says customers don’t command the service provider?!! hahahahahaha
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