It’s nice to be out in fresh air... The distant hills, fortunate enough not to have been mined so far, lend KIA the aura of being India‘s air conditioned city’s airport. I’m a little conscious of the short slits in my long skirt, never having chosen this attire for the practicalities of flying, but heck, how does that matter? Like the guy with a fear of thunderstorms (there must be a word for it ending with “phobia”, may be "Thunderophobia"!), who tied himself high up in a tree during a storm to get rid of his "Thunderophobia“, I might take to wearing skirts while travelling. Confront your fears, they say, so I won’t skirt around the issue, or maybe I will. Well, you get the point. ;)
The plane speeds on the runway, getting a li'l jiggy with it and it feels as if the pilots were motorcycle fanatics trying their hand at flying for the first time... the uncle on my left complains about the little jig loudly. I had presumed my flight to Jaipur to be as mundane as a flight to any other metropolitan city in India or in the world, but I‘m changing my opinion and getting nostalgic about the train journeys in the 2nd class compartment, where snacks and ideas are exchanged nonchalantly throughout the trip. Or maybe there is no need to be nostalgic, coz it’s happening again and I‘m right in the middle of it! :D
Let me give you a clearer picture... The uncle on my left tells me that ladies travelling with him are having problems. What kind, I do not ask... but some problem that gets solved with some eating. The guy on my right... you got it, yes, I didn’t get a window seat this time! Usually, if I don’t check in till I’m at the airport, I do get a window seat that no one wanted to pay extra for, but flyers to Jaipur apparently didn’t mind paying a few bucks extra... but I digress... So, the guy on my right asks me if I have flown with this airline earlier. At my affirmation he asks my opinion about what to order.. "What would you recommend? Should I order salted cashews?" I am baffled by the existential question and pass it on to the airhostess, who surely should have the elusive answer. Fast forward: He orders salted cashews and enlightens me that these are really good. I am so glad to know this, was having self-doubts about my general flight knowledge! Snacks over, now am being entertained with loud (by flight standards) Rajasthani slapstick comedy featuring on my neighbour‘s cellphone, who convulses with laughter every once in a while. And the airhostess tells us to fasten our seatbelt, as the plane is going through turbulent weather. Inside or outside, I wonder!
The lady in the row in front has perhaps taken the motto of my latest buy "The subtle art of not giving a f*ck" to heart and gives zero f*cks about being heard by others while giving out her life history to her fellow flyers. The story so far: Her husband‘s name is Rahul and she didn’t ask him a single question about his profession the first time they met. She only asked someone to let her at least know his name ("ladke ka naam to bata do"), when he came to "see" her for an arranged marriage. Her dad’s now 60 and hale and hearty. Her fellow traveller has 4 sisters and some nephew or niece needs to be "set up" for marriage... so the conversation continues... Uncle at the left finally comments: She is speaking since the last two hours, no commas, no full stops. I burst out laughing and the cashew neighbour agrees with uncle, "lots of stamina".
A newly wed couple on the other side has managed to move over to the window, exchanging their aisle seat for the window one and is now happily cosying up as the sunset paints the sky in rainbow colours. How apt! :) A foreign couple on the seat behind them is looking at the noisy exchange all around with the first-trip-to-India look in their eyes.
And before I know it, we’re about to land post the shortest 2.5 hours flight I‘ve ever taken! :D Or as uncle on the left says: Ye to bhaga ke laya hai plane, itni jaldi kaise pahunch gaya?"
Wish I could take photos of all this, but I wouldn’t want that done to me, so I refrain.
