Airy Tales

Childhood travel memories were mostly on the rails and journey down south was a 3-day transit through a million stations. The quick-temporary friendships, at times meeting your own classmates and if your stars are shining really bright then definitely, teachers whom you never want to see again 😁😁. Also sometimes strange people, with stranger tiffin boxes and with the strangest stories to tell.

How could I not mention those pantry ‘chettans’ for all the delicious pazhampuris (banana fritters), parippu vadas (lentil fries), hot upma, tomato soups…lip smacking oily snacks which never added calories… and every journey turned worthwhile!  

My 7-year old hardly knows how amazing train journeys can get. But apparently, can distinguish the airport security check-ins, can explain baggage allowance, lay-overs, miraculously finds her favourite stores and lightens our pocket, can create fake yawns to avoid take-off/landing ticklers, sighs a relief to see the boarding bridges (because she hates boarding those airline buses), loves the connecting terminal trains, dreams sitting on the carousel belts to go for a joy-ride and can lead anyone, without a crease.

However, every time we board a domestic flight, she still shoots the same, repeated question at the top of her voice, “Why are there no televisions at our seats?” The international interface isn’t acceptable, and her curious brain cannot rationalize. So, the question sagas continue.   

  

Many of us agree, in the age of clouds even air journeys have become interesting… I don’t claim much, though!

The Debutant –

Luckily, it was an evening flight to Mumbai. As a first timer, I was not at all interested in my co-passengers. Rather, I was immensely wooed by the sky view of the city lights and sail in the starry night. I was flying high, yes just literally, what can you expect from a teenager who keeps adjusting the oars according to her academic result graph?

Fantastical!

The Motormouth - 

An early morning flight, my empty-grumbling stomach, sleepyhead and this talkative, little boy won’t stop racing. I bought him a huge sandwich to keep him busy eating, but he wouldn’t refuse to talk. I was now the proud recipient of his tiny, crumbly, food particles coated with saliva, which escaped his crushers and landed smoothly on my various body parts - face, arms and maybe on clothes too. I thought to use Swamy’s line (from Munnabhai…MBBS) ahem… “Excuse me, what is the procedure to change the seat?”

Mercy Lord!

The Heartbreaker  -

A 9-hour flight seemed difficult to crack but that good-looking chap’s company started with a lot of enthusiasm. He was an architect from US and was quite impressed to know that I am a teacher, (or was he just pretending?). He curiously asked several questions about my profession. When I spoke about my daughter, he couldn’t believe, I had one. How highly flattering! We ate our breakfast together and in minutes I dozed off. A little air turbulence woke me up and I realized all this time I slept with my mouth open. This architect guy had shifted to some other place and an elderly Aunty sat beside me. Seemingly, her headphones were not working, and she desperately wanted to watch some old movie.

Clean bowled!  

The Flexible-Inflexible -

Tugging along my 1.5 -year old, I finally reached the check-in counter just half an hour before the flight boarding. I was blatantly refused and got counter-questioned about punctuality. Blaming the chaotic, Hyderabad traffic, I began my motherhood-melodrama and how miserably alone, I am, with the baby. It was an instant bulls-eye!

I was given priority check-in, just to find the flight flying half empty. I must have been their entertainment for the day, had given a flawless audition for Mother India sequel.

Humbug!

The Dehydrated - 

Carrying my water bottle, (i) was out of habit and that, (ii) it was the cutest container I had ever possessed, so a little show-off means no harm. A flying visit to meet my grandmother but to an utter dismay, flight was a couple of hours late, thankfully I had the priority lounge access card.  As soon as I sank in the couch, nostalgic with summer memories at my grandmother’s place and almost drifting off to sleep, this intriguing soul positioned himself right next to me and had a string of lousy questions. Yes, I was patiently answering them one after one, but why in the world, he simply grabs hold of my water bottle and quenches away my contingency? Was the lounge running out of water?

Slurp!

Airy tales continue to happen. 

Life is such an amazing story book, when you sit and open, flip page after page, you realise, how comical, cynical, categorical and censorial it is! Okay, I couldn't make the last word rhyme completely. 
Blimey!