MID-AIR MUSINGS

“Ma’am, are you a single passenger?”

This is one of my favorite lines to hear, not because of the blunt observation (ouch) but for the free XL seat on a plane that follows. As a claustrophobic being whose anatomy is 60% legs, extra legroom can make my day. A rare instance where traveling alone has an advantage. The earliest memories I have of flying are eating my parent’s ear off before eating a full box of airplane cookies and getting whatever caught my eye from the merchandise catalogue. The tiny model planes and tail-finned bag packs would end up in some lost corner, but a mid-air flight is where children have highest autonomy and power. Your parents will do just about anything to shut you up!

Airlines and the surrounding industry are always in the news somehow. Either one of them is failing or facing a lawsuit or buying another. Some cases of passenger misbehavior, and some employee unprofessionalism. The large airports resemble bus stands during busy season, and the DGCA has achieved a big brother status (seen Runway 34? Amitabh Bachchan is the clear choice for a DGCA honcho). There was a time when the flight itself was as much a part of the tourist experience as the destination, now it’s as mundane as the drive to the airport. The extent of privatization and capitalism involved is phenomenal – fast track boarding, priority check-in and baggage collections, in-flight meals, extra luggage, flight insurance, a cup of chai at 32x inflation which doesn’t even taste like chai. Makes you miss the questionable watery kulhad chais of the railways.

I can’t remember the last time I took an interstate train journey, which used to be an annual pilgrimage of childhood to my grandmothers’. I was not known for my ability to keep peace, the sidebars to climb the upper berths were all a child needed for 10 hours of entertainment. My little sister was known for falling off the berth as a chubby toddler, and that is a scene best enjoyed when your head is centimeters away from the rusty old ceiling fan. If there ever was a medal for being fully covered in the general dust that hangs about Indian trains. The neatly packed idlis or rice-pickle meals or prawns curry (if grandma was in a good mood), all covered in symmetric banana leaf envelopes have now become relics. This dehydrated poha in a cup is not even close.

I know, I know. Flights are efficient, affordable, clean solutions to an average Indian’s travel problems. It is just so interesting to notice how flights, which themselves are not too old, mean so much more to different people. When you see an airplane, what do you see? My engineering friends see aerodynamics and structural design elements. My consultant friends see half of their working life, poor things. My banking friends see takeover targets, when they see logos being painted over. Celebrities and entertainment media see a whole fashion event. Some see their dream careers within the plane, some have seen the aircraft itself as a weapon. I see a place to shamelessly catch up on sleep, and my mother sees a delicate balance between life and death. “If you are destined to die by a plane crash, then a plane may just crash over our home” is my father’s ardent and entirely pointless attempt at pacifying her.

It is humbling though, to look out the window and see each new city from an eagle’s view. The lights and expanse of Delhi, the stark contrast of slum to metro when you land in Mumbai, the Arabian sea and backwaters of Kochi. Maybe, decades and centuries ago, some ancestor of mine would have loved to see what I take for granted. I know that every female predecessor to me would not have had the privilege of being a single passenger. I can make my peace with cuppa maggis, as the very act of traveling solo on a flight is an opportunity arising from decades of innovation, effort and movements. It’s a good thought to have, before we quickly criticize the next quarter losses of our airline carriers and their pricing strategies. It’s a reminder to appreciate the seat I have today, as I take off to chase the next one.

Full Disclosure: This post was the product of a bucket list experience, of using a laptop while on a flight and looking super-duper professional, instead of snoring away and disclosing the fact that I actually belong in a sleeper train.