Delhi is hot and when the mercury climbs to more than 43 degree Celsius, it really can be called hot. So I would rather be in a cool AC than be in the hot summer with the sun shining bright and hot winds making me hotter. Its like the sun heats up the wind and the fan just recycles the hot air. At least you don’t sweat that much as in Mumbai.
Sunday, 4th May as I get up late, I prepare myself to be back home. Pack all the goodies and clothes, I bid Vijay‘s mother goodbye. The family is already in Amsterdam. Its not that hot in Amsterdam. I remember that!
Even after shopping and buying a tripod for my camera in the famous Sarojini Nagar Market, I hardly waste time. The market filled with Sunday shoppers hardly gives an idea about the bomb blast in Diwali 2006. The dead may have been forgotten or maybe nobody like to remember ugly incidents. I guess it the later.
The flight back to Mumbai is at 15:55 Hrs. Feels like the prices on Bata Shoes, those which sell at Rs. 99 only. In spite of an effort to delay I reach Palam Airport at 1:30 PM. I bid Raju, goodbye. He has been kind showing me around Delhi in the absence of the family.
I try to find a place to sit but all the seats are occupied. Who comes for a domestic flight more than 2 hours before the flight. I look at the Jetlite counter and its empty. People won’t be here before 3:00 - 3:30 PM. I pass my time looking at people around and trying to buy cold-drinks I don’t need. The renovated Delhi Airport is quite modern and it wasn’t the same when I came here with Mom back in 2006 and still I am trying to pass time.I look at the time on my cell phone and its been just two minutes since I looked at it.
I decide to go on the other side, check in and get done with my security check. Its better getting everything ready rather than wait for the time to pass standing and staring at people. Its kind of rude, I guess.
I check in and get done with the security check. As expected, the other side is quite empty and unfortunately, the ACs don’t work there. I groan. Not much has changed here. Its still sparkling clean but still hot.
I take a seat in front of the big fan kept in the waiting area. I like being at the airport alone. You can watch people traveling, all kind of people, businessmen/women, people out to meet their friends/family and people on jobs trying to attend the next meeting somewhere in India or maybe plain tourist. Airport is different from any other traveling medium maybe because of the comfort and maybe the luxury associated with it.
But there is one thing I have observed. In spite of all the luxury and speed associated with Flying, people hate flying, even in business class. How could one explain the mad scramble to get in and then get out of the plane. Notice the way everybody is ready to dart out even before the plane stops. Everybody hates flying.
Even with the non-working ACs, the waiting area was quite cool. I knew I could not spend 2 hours waiting and watching people but maybe I had anticipated it and maybe knowingly and unknowingly I carried a book. As I started reading Ruskin Bond’s “Our trees still grow in Dehra”, I was lost in the semi-autobiographical short stories.
Long time ago I would read a lot and would spent hours reading that I would lose track of time. Since I started my job, I had stopped reading. Now there are too many distraction that picking up a book and reading it without losing interest has become a thing of the past and yet I started going through the pages of the book and the sound around me became a whisper.
I was taken into Dehradun as I imagined the town as if I lived in it. That’s the power of books. A good writer will let you get wild with your imagination and describe the world as he/she sees it. I occasionally looked up to find the crowd increasing but then the stories were more interesting. The stories are about innocence of childhood to small incident which did not even have an ending. Small incident came alive as if happening in front of you.
By 3:30 PM, I looked up to find a considerable crowd around me. People standing and when people stand, I find it guilty to sit and enjoy. Its like everyone is cursing you as you enjoy the comfort. I walk around and thankfully the boarding for my flight is announced.
As expected there is a mad rush to get in. These very people would want to get out faster than they entered. I show my boarding pass and get into the waiting bus to take us to the plane. A man inside informs his friend that he is about to board the plane. He gives the details of the plane and the time it might take.
“S2 - 105″ He shouts on the phone. The person at the other end was probably trying to make some sense.
“ASS, ASS” He shouts again “ASS-2, ASS-2″
‘Ass’ indeed. I spot a distinctive smile. Everyone around me spots a grim face. Not one person is smiling. How could they not get the joke?I continue smiling as the man shouts the plane information
“ASS, ha ha ASS-2, 105″
I get down from the bus to face a strong hot wind. No sweat but the air suffocates you. Hot burning air. The sky has turned cloudy. It might rain and maybe the air will cool down. I am the last person in the line to get in the plane
I am telling you, everybody hates flying!
Posted in Diary, Experiences, Friends/Family, Life, Personal, World Cities, musings | 8 Comments »


