People were filling up as the plastic air hostesses started announcing how glad they were that i had chosen to fly their airline.
I smiled. same old BS. Who thinks we are glad that these painted mannequins are this way? I looked away at the airport lights in the distance shimmering away. It was a wonderful although balmy Friday evening as the plane filled up with a myriad cast of people of several ages. Most of these were business travellers who were in Bangalore for some work or some high profile meeting judging from their suits. The air hostesses graciously took these suits off these folks, all well practiced. the people on the other hand
thanked them a wee bit grudgingly.
There were others, professionals like me who were returning to their homes from the IT capital of the country. Others were typically a bunch of people who had made their reservations some months in advance. This group was chatting away merrily about the latest release and the latest gossip on the block.
I had as usual got the aisle seat and that meant being hit by the hefty luggage that passengers carried into the flight to load into the overhead compartments. The seat next to me was still unoccupied. The window seat had a chatty auntie that was virtually stuck to her phone. I shuddered to think of a conversation with her. I prayed fervently as well that she too wasn't looking to talk to me. The middle seat - It had to be a person who had no torso to fit into one of these seats of the budget airliners.
The very last person to enter was a slightly built man with flowing hair. He was wearing a white shirt and black trousers, very text book. He looked from seat to seat trying to find the number that he had been allotted and his gaze finally settled on the seat next to me.
"Great" i thought. "no chick this time as well.."
He made his way through the aisle and requested me to move, a slight smile on his face. I smiled back, I'm sure my smile wasn't close to the warm smile that he gave me, I was still expecting some red hot bombshell to come sashaying down the aisle.
Instead it was uncle. It smarted!
He settled in comfortably into the seat. It seemed that he took the shape of the seat given the calm expression on his face. No one could have been so comfortable in his position. I was in no mood of conversation, he nonchalantly looked at me and made an attempt to fish out the newspaper from the seat back pocket.
The air hostesses closed the door and made the mandatory flight safety instructions. I looked around with a bored expression on my face. Even the air hostesses were uninspiring, most of them would look hideous if their faces were scrubbed clean of the plaster.
I wanted to get through the flight and home quickly.
"Going home?"
I did not want to talk.
"Hmmm..." I thought that that response would stop the flow. It signified that I acknowledged your question, but please don't take this forward. Didn't work.
"I am too...", he said.
I studied him, I had not seen him very well earlier. He had silvery hair and gold rimmed spectacles. His eyes were slightly blue, a calmness came over me.
I had no response. I turned back. It was strange to be sitting in the aisle seat of a crowded budget airline with a gaggle of people chatting away, their decibel levels far from quiet and suddenly feel calm.
"You seem discontent...disturbed.." he continued as if reading the expression on my face.
I turned to him again, i did not want to speak right away. I just looked at him with furrowed brows. "What makes you say that?" I finally asked.
"I have increasingly noticed this in the younger generation." he continued ignoring my question.
"Let me guess he said - only child, living away from parents in a big city. Looking for emotional comfort...Profession demands certain sacrifices now. Does it not?"
He put the question to me.
My silence was getting a bit out of hand. I was a debater in my college and this dude was bowling a googly.
"Yes..yes.. yes..." - I stammered; the third 'yes' totally gave my discomfiture away. He settled into reading his paper in with a satisfied smile.
I too looked away, this man sent a queer feeling in my brain. I did not want to explore it right away either.
"But isn't that a bit presumptuous?" I questioned him, trying to revive the debater inside of me.
"That's your ego speaking." he replied quickly.
I was taken aback. his bluntness hit me.
"What?!" I asked him incredulously and a bit hotly as well.
"Yes." he replied in his calm manner that was getting a bit irritating by now.
He did not offer any explanation. Rather, he went back to reading his paper. The auntie in the window seat that I had completely ignored till now, was sleeping. My - 'what?!' - made her fidget in her sleep.
The Air hostess came with nimbu paani. She looked bored, the evening flights did this to most of the crew. I picked one and thanked her for it. The man next to me took nothing and smiled at her warmly enough as he declined. She smiled back and it looked genuine!
In fact she smiled at him longer than she did at me (which smarted - again). Even her tired voice picked up after that and she seemed more jovial. I was surprised - would be an understatement.
He gave me another look and dove back into his paper. My discomfort knew no bounds. Here was a man who seemed to know more about me than i would rather let on; sitting right next to me, having some profound impact even on the plasticine air hostesses as well.
I deduced (wrongly) that this was some cocky guy who thought that reading 'The speaking tree' everyday in the newspaper allowed him in making such high and mighty statements. That mustered some confidence inside me and i spoke.
"I think you are the victim of a generation gap." I must have looked foolishly triumphant as he gave me a condescending smile and looked at me with the same warmth that he had shown to the air hostess earlier.
It did feel nice, looking at him smile benignly like that.
"Akshay..." he began, "a generation gap is with respect to the worldly likings of an individual. Deep down, we are pretty much seeking the same thing - All of us."
My mouth was open as i sat gaping there clutching at my seat belt. How in the bloody wide world did this guy i had just met know my name.
As if reading my thoughts, he continued, "Oh! and by the way, I read your name on the boarding card sticking out of your pocket."
I shut my mouth instantly. If this guy could calm you down with his smile, he could unsettle you with his words as well.
The flight took off. I never liked this part, the climb, it made me feel a tad bit uncomfortable. He on the other hand nonchalantly turned to the sports section. Disinterested he folded it up and put it back in the seat pocket as the flight banked towards the north.
"There is a truth and there are fabrications." he continued after the flight stabilised and the seat belt sign switched off. It's as if he never had stopped speaking.
"The truth is that we are all, you, that air hostess, this lady sleeping peacefully next to us, all, are looking for stability. much like this aircraft."
"Come to think of it, isn't our life like this aircraft's journey? You take off, unstable and shaky. Then slowly you settle down, still shaking from time to time, there is turbulence hitting you -"
and as if on cue, the plane shook buffeted by winds outside even as the seat belt sign blazed on again.
I did not like turbulence, everyone had a slightly concerned expression on their faces. Although, the plane quickly stabilised again.
"But calmness always returns..." he finished.
It sounded like a discourse; but given my situation, I was in rapt attention. he spoke softly, a slight northern accent to his speech.
"You only have to believe that there is someone at the front of the airplane. controlling it. the pilot. A guide that knows exactly where you need to go.; It might not be a straight line, it may be zig-zag; it may even take time..."
The speaker crackled and the pilot spoke about a flight delay due to air traffic conditions over Mumbai.
"See what i mean?" he looked at me enquiringly.
My speechlessness continued.
"You will finally reach your destination. Believe me. But sitting in your seat fidgeting over the delay - instead of enjoying the view out of the window isn't the best way to arrive now, is it?"
he looked at me questioningly over his spectacles. I looked out across the snoring auntie and sure enough the moon was blooming through the clouds in all its grandeur.
"It could be worse, he said lowering his voice conspiratorially. You could probably sleep right through it..." he said motioning to the chatty auntie.
I could not help but smile at that, it felt like a prankster who was setting a lighted matchstick in sleeping persons toes.
"Relax and enjoy the journey." The pilot spoke on cue. I looked at the man, he gave a knowing smile as he fished out the in flight mag as he put the newspaper in.
I was lost in thought for a while as the pilot announced our imminent arrival. The man was, by now, asleep with the mag resting on his chest.
I had created a million questions on my mind by this time, but none of them really mattered in the simple analogy that he talked of.
"How do you believe? How does anyone believe? Is there proof? What about fate? what about destiny? What about life's unexpected twists and accidents?" i wanted to retort...
The plane landed and the lights came on. I waited for him to get up. I wanted to ask him all these questions. But now the people were all awake and the chatty auntie was back to troubling her poor cellphone and any unfortunate relative on the other end. I kept quiet not wanting to draw attention to what i thought was a weird enough conversation.
We deplaned and walked the tarmac over towards the waiting buses, I could not ask him over the roar of the engines of a passing Boeing - I boarded the bus that seemed pretty full. There was no place for him, i wanted to get off this bus to talk him about what I had in mind - I only caught this bit as the doors closed,
"there are no accidents...
You just have to believe."
He waved as the bus pulled off and another emerged to pick the rest of them up.
I did not see him at the baggage terminal, i waited for a while and then walked away - profoundly unsettled but a tad bit wiser.
I smiled. same old BS. Who thinks we are glad that these painted mannequins are this way? I looked away at the airport lights in the distance shimmering away. It was a wonderful although balmy Friday evening as the plane filled up with a myriad cast of people of several ages. Most of these were business travellers who were in Bangalore for some work or some high profile meeting judging from their suits. The air hostesses graciously took these suits off these folks, all well practiced. the people on the other hand
thanked them a wee bit grudgingly.
There were others, professionals like me who were returning to their homes from the IT capital of the country. Others were typically a bunch of people who had made their reservations some months in advance. This group was chatting away merrily about the latest release and the latest gossip on the block.
I had as usual got the aisle seat and that meant being hit by the hefty luggage that passengers carried into the flight to load into the overhead compartments. The seat next to me was still unoccupied. The window seat had a chatty auntie that was virtually stuck to her phone. I shuddered to think of a conversation with her. I prayed fervently as well that she too wasn't looking to talk to me. The middle seat - It had to be a person who had no torso to fit into one of these seats of the budget airliners.
The very last person to enter was a slightly built man with flowing hair. He was wearing a white shirt and black trousers, very text book. He looked from seat to seat trying to find the number that he had been allotted and his gaze finally settled on the seat next to me.
"Great" i thought. "no chick this time as well.."
He made his way through the aisle and requested me to move, a slight smile on his face. I smiled back, I'm sure my smile wasn't close to the warm smile that he gave me, I was still expecting some red hot bombshell to come sashaying down the aisle.
Instead it was uncle. It smarted!
He settled in comfortably into the seat. It seemed that he took the shape of the seat given the calm expression on his face. No one could have been so comfortable in his position. I was in no mood of conversation, he nonchalantly looked at me and made an attempt to fish out the newspaper from the seat back pocket.
The air hostesses closed the door and made the mandatory flight safety instructions. I looked around with a bored expression on my face. Even the air hostesses were uninspiring, most of them would look hideous if their faces were scrubbed clean of the plaster.
I wanted to get through the flight and home quickly.
"Going home?"
I did not want to talk.
"Hmmm..." I thought that that response would stop the flow. It signified that I acknowledged your question, but please don't take this forward. Didn't work.
"I am too...", he said.
I studied him, I had not seen him very well earlier. He had silvery hair and gold rimmed spectacles. His eyes were slightly blue, a calmness came over me.
I had no response. I turned back. It was strange to be sitting in the aisle seat of a crowded budget airline with a gaggle of people chatting away, their decibel levels far from quiet and suddenly feel calm.
"You seem discontent...disturbed.." he continued as if reading the expression on my face.
I turned to him again, i did not want to speak right away. I just looked at him with furrowed brows. "What makes you say that?" I finally asked.
"I have increasingly noticed this in the younger generation." he continued ignoring my question.
"Let me guess he said - only child, living away from parents in a big city. Looking for emotional comfort...Profession demands certain sacrifices now. Does it not?"
He put the question to me.
My silence was getting a bit out of hand. I was a debater in my college and this dude was bowling a googly.
"Yes..yes.. yes..." - I stammered; the third 'yes' totally gave my discomfiture away. He settled into reading his paper in with a satisfied smile.
I too looked away, this man sent a queer feeling in my brain. I did not want to explore it right away either.
"But isn't that a bit presumptuous?" I questioned him, trying to revive the debater inside of me.
"That's your ego speaking." he replied quickly.
I was taken aback. his bluntness hit me.
"What?!" I asked him incredulously and a bit hotly as well.
"Yes." he replied in his calm manner that was getting a bit irritating by now.
He did not offer any explanation. Rather, he went back to reading his paper. The auntie in the window seat that I had completely ignored till now, was sleeping. My - 'what?!' - made her fidget in her sleep.
The Air hostess came with nimbu paani. She looked bored, the evening flights did this to most of the crew. I picked one and thanked her for it. The man next to me took nothing and smiled at her warmly enough as he declined. She smiled back and it looked genuine!
In fact she smiled at him longer than she did at me (which smarted - again). Even her tired voice picked up after that and she seemed more jovial. I was surprised - would be an understatement.
He gave me another look and dove back into his paper. My discomfort knew no bounds. Here was a man who seemed to know more about me than i would rather let on; sitting right next to me, having some profound impact even on the plasticine air hostesses as well.
I deduced (wrongly) that this was some cocky guy who thought that reading 'The speaking tree' everyday in the newspaper allowed him in making such high and mighty statements. That mustered some confidence inside me and i spoke.
"I think you are the victim of a generation gap." I must have looked foolishly triumphant as he gave me a condescending smile and looked at me with the same warmth that he had shown to the air hostess earlier.
It did feel nice, looking at him smile benignly like that.
"Akshay..." he began, "a generation gap is with respect to the worldly likings of an individual. Deep down, we are pretty much seeking the same thing - All of us."
My mouth was open as i sat gaping there clutching at my seat belt. How in the bloody wide world did this guy i had just met know my name.
As if reading my thoughts, he continued, "Oh! and by the way, I read your name on the boarding card sticking out of your pocket."
I shut my mouth instantly. If this guy could calm you down with his smile, he could unsettle you with his words as well.
The flight took off. I never liked this part, the climb, it made me feel a tad bit uncomfortable. He on the other hand nonchalantly turned to the sports section. Disinterested he folded it up and put it back in the seat pocket as the flight banked towards the north.
"There is a truth and there are fabrications." he continued after the flight stabilised and the seat belt sign switched off. It's as if he never had stopped speaking.
"The truth is that we are all, you, that air hostess, this lady sleeping peacefully next to us, all, are looking for stability. much like this aircraft."
"Come to think of it, isn't our life like this aircraft's journey? You take off, unstable and shaky. Then slowly you settle down, still shaking from time to time, there is turbulence hitting you -"
and as if on cue, the plane shook buffeted by winds outside even as the seat belt sign blazed on again.
I did not like turbulence, everyone had a slightly concerned expression on their faces. Although, the plane quickly stabilised again.
"But calmness always returns..." he finished.
It sounded like a discourse; but given my situation, I was in rapt attention. he spoke softly, a slight northern accent to his speech.
"You only have to believe that there is someone at the front of the airplane. controlling it. the pilot. A guide that knows exactly where you need to go.; It might not be a straight line, it may be zig-zag; it may even take time..."
The speaker crackled and the pilot spoke about a flight delay due to air traffic conditions over Mumbai.
"See what i mean?" he looked at me enquiringly.
My speechlessness continued.
"You will finally reach your destination. Believe me. But sitting in your seat fidgeting over the delay - instead of enjoying the view out of the window isn't the best way to arrive now, is it?"
he looked at me questioningly over his spectacles. I looked out across the snoring auntie and sure enough the moon was blooming through the clouds in all its grandeur.
"It could be worse, he said lowering his voice conspiratorially. You could probably sleep right through it..." he said motioning to the chatty auntie.
I could not help but smile at that, it felt like a prankster who was setting a lighted matchstick in sleeping persons toes.
"Relax and enjoy the journey." The pilot spoke on cue. I looked at the man, he gave a knowing smile as he fished out the in flight mag as he put the newspaper in.
I was lost in thought for a while as the pilot announced our imminent arrival. The man was, by now, asleep with the mag resting on his chest.
I had created a million questions on my mind by this time, but none of them really mattered in the simple analogy that he talked of.
"How do you believe? How does anyone believe? Is there proof? What about fate? what about destiny? What about life's unexpected twists and accidents?" i wanted to retort...
The plane landed and the lights came on. I waited for him to get up. I wanted to ask him all these questions. But now the people were all awake and the chatty auntie was back to troubling her poor cellphone and any unfortunate relative on the other end. I kept quiet not wanting to draw attention to what i thought was a weird enough conversation.
We deplaned and walked the tarmac over towards the waiting buses, I could not ask him over the roar of the engines of a passing Boeing - I boarded the bus that seemed pretty full. There was no place for him, i wanted to get off this bus to talk him about what I had in mind - I only caught this bit as the doors closed,
"there are no accidents...
You just have to believe."
He waved as the bus pulled off and another emerged to pick the rest of them up.
I did not see him at the baggage terminal, i waited for a while and then walked away - profoundly unsettled but a tad bit wiser.
