When you make a trip alone anywhere, it’s amazing how many details you observe and how many stories you have to tell. Partly because there is no one to refute it. Well, you also have all the time to look around and imbibe in the surroundings and meet new interesting people. When you are traveling as a couple, no one really tries to strike a conversation and nor are you forced to.
I was traveling Kingfisher airlines from Vadodara to Bangalore with a stopover at Mumbai. I prayed that I wouldn’t get stuck with hassled moms with wailing babies or with open-mouthed snoring characters that needed constant supply of mints. Usually God grants me only these two varieties.
My prayers bore fruit when I saw John Abraham walk towards me. Not the real one.. a dupe! Next you might think I am only allowed to bad luck and that he walked away. Nothing like that happened. He smiled at me and said, ‘Such a shitty aircraft’ and adjusted his seat-belt and smiled again. I flashed my pearly yellows. “Hi!” He moved closer to me and cooed,” Man, these Indians are so stinky. And what a pigeonhole. I am so claustrophobic here. Yeeks!”
I lost Mr. If-I-had-my-Private-Jet. If not for his looks, he might not have even got my smile. So there! I smelt myself and finding nothing wrong, focused on my other side. The old man was looking very lost and coughing vehemently. An 18-year-old on one side and an 80 on the other. Ok that does it! I am demanding for a seat next to wailing babies!
Next, the skimpy airhostess with an even skimpier brain forgot to give me a croissant! I had left home at 5:00 am to board the plane and I was ravenous by now. I reminded the airhostess twice and she flashed a dumb smile, yes mam and then amnesia. The old man said he didn’t want the croissant and gave his share to me. I smiled at him. He looked handsome when he crinkled his nose and smiled.
He told me he was going to Mumbai to attend the first birthday of his grandson. He was originally from Assam, ran away from home at age 18, worked his way up and now ran a successful restaurant in Bangalore. Invited me to his place to sample his famous kabaabs. From then on, there was nothing stopping him. He spoke about Politics, religion, economics, politics, cricket, history and policitcs (he forgot he had covered it twice before). I yawned once, twice, multiple times in succession till I could take it no more. So I slept mid-sentence, when he was talking of politics. I stirred after an hour and he continued from where he left off, ‘Good Morning. Like I was saying…our country is going to the dogs because of these politicians…’
I’m sure I made a record for number of nods by a single person. Anyways, the old man was really sweet and while disembarking at Mumbai, he shook my hands and wished me the best, ‘I appreciate your thoughts on these subjects and you are very knowledgeable. Nobody has spoken to me for so long. Thank you. I am sure your mom will get better’.
The next leg of the journey, I had the best company- a 7-year-old kid, Maya. Same wavelength! She drew some pictures of me that I still have. We made fun of the airhostesses and played a lot of games. I won most of the times. Maya’s parting dialogue was,’ I wish you were my sister’. I told her that her mom was too young to have a daughter like me. For that she loudly proclaimed,’My mom is very old. She is 33!’ much to her mom’s embarrassment. I wish I have a daughter like her.
I was traveling Kingfisher airlines from Vadodara to Bangalore with a stopover at Mumbai. I prayed that I wouldn’t get stuck with hassled moms with wailing babies or with open-mouthed snoring characters that needed constant supply of mints. Usually God grants me only these two varieties.
My prayers bore fruit when I saw John Abraham walk towards me. Not the real one.. a dupe! Next you might think I am only allowed to bad luck and that he walked away. Nothing like that happened. He smiled at me and said, ‘Such a shitty aircraft’ and adjusted his seat-belt and smiled again. I flashed my pearly yellows. “Hi!” He moved closer to me and cooed,” Man, these Indians are so stinky. And what a pigeonhole. I am so claustrophobic here. Yeeks!”
I lost Mr. If-I-had-my-Private-Jet. If not for his looks, he might not have even got my smile. So there! I smelt myself and finding nothing wrong, focused on my other side. The old man was looking very lost and coughing vehemently. An 18-year-old on one side and an 80 on the other. Ok that does it! I am demanding for a seat next to wailing babies!
Next, the skimpy airhostess with an even skimpier brain forgot to give me a croissant! I had left home at 5:00 am to board the plane and I was ravenous by now. I reminded the airhostess twice and she flashed a dumb smile, yes mam and then amnesia. The old man said he didn’t want the croissant and gave his share to me. I smiled at him. He looked handsome when he crinkled his nose and smiled.
He told me he was going to Mumbai to attend the first birthday of his grandson. He was originally from Assam, ran away from home at age 18, worked his way up and now ran a successful restaurant in Bangalore. Invited me to his place to sample his famous kabaabs. From then on, there was nothing stopping him. He spoke about Politics, religion, economics, politics, cricket, history and policitcs (he forgot he had covered it twice before). I yawned once, twice, multiple times in succession till I could take it no more. So I slept mid-sentence, when he was talking of politics. I stirred after an hour and he continued from where he left off, ‘Good Morning. Like I was saying…our country is going to the dogs because of these politicians…’
I’m sure I made a record for number of nods by a single person. Anyways, the old man was really sweet and while disembarking at Mumbai, he shook my hands and wished me the best, ‘I appreciate your thoughts on these subjects and you are very knowledgeable. Nobody has spoken to me for so long. Thank you. I am sure your mom will get better’.
The next leg of the journey, I had the best company- a 7-year-old kid, Maya. Same wavelength! She drew some pictures of me that I still have. We made fun of the airhostesses and played a lot of games. I won most of the times. Maya’s parting dialogue was,’ I wish you were my sister’. I told her that her mom was too young to have a daughter like me. For that she loudly proclaimed,’My mom is very old. She is 33!’ much to her mom’s embarrassment. I wish I have a daughter like her.
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