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Early Morning Flight

Early Morning Flight to Bengaluru. As usual the Uber driver landed at the wrong apartment building and confidently informed me that he was right in front of my home. It took some time to convince him of the anomaly and get him to the desired place. After 5 minutes onto the road his phone glowed and words 'Tinu Waif' appeared on the screen. Mr. Driver admonished his 'Waif' in no uncertain terms informing her that he is driving with a customer. I felt a touch sad for the lady. After disconnecting the call he turned on the radio. We drove along the empty road with Mohammed Rafi belting out his 'Dardbhare Nagme' in the background. Initially, he (Rafi, not the driver) informed his beloved of his intention of not setting foot in her neighbourhood from this day onward. Perhaps, that did not yield a desired effect so the next song talked about his funeral plan for himself, describing his shroud, the flower arrangement, members of the funeral procession and stopped short of giving measurement of his grave. I hoped that I reach the airport before matters become further morbid. My prayers were answered.

Nothing noteworthy happened during the check-in and security check except a middle aged American shouting 'but we are first class' apparently frustrated by the long que.

In the wash room, a man had managed to place his foot under the wash basin tap and was merrily washing it while standing on one leg. Having wiped the foot thoroughly, he inspected if this little pedicure had a desired result and having satisfied himself he moved on to repeat it on the other foot. A shocked and amused crowd had gathered around him to witness this novel use of the airport washroom.

I got a middle seat with two middle aged men sitting on both sides while all the 'agreeable' looking travelers took the other seats. The gentleman on the right had possibly downed a couple of kilograms of mint and had taken it upon himself to act as the room freshener for the Air India flight. Reeling under the effect, I fell asleep and woke up only when the breakfast was announced.

A man who had an uncanny resemblance with our grocery shop attendant and a woman with a permanent frown on her face were handing out food packets with marked lack of enthusiasm. The room freshener man was thrown a vegetarian food packet. With the meekness akin to a schoolchild asking permission from his teacher to go to the toilet, he asked for a non-veg packet. To which the lady stared at him coldly for full thirty seconds and asked him to repeat his question. He somehow managed to utter 'non.....' . 'Only vegetarian breakfast is available' she snapped at him. I took the cue and accepted what was hurled at me. The food included a brown substance which had a distant resemblance to 'Kala Chana', stretchable rotis, and some butchered fruits. I washed them down with lukewarm tea.

I spent rest of the flight thinking of the sumptuous breakfast I would have after landing.

Very soon the familiar sights of neatly arrayed orchards, hills bearing humongous boulders were visible from the window. A smile appeared on my face.

We landed. I was greeted by a sunny day and a cool breeze as I stepped out of the aircraft.

Ah Bangalore!


This post first appeared on Creaky Ladder, please read the originial post: here

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Early Morning Flight

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