Experience Air… AAAAH!

This happened a couple years ago.... in an airline I'll call Experience Air.. It's a true experience which I had written about, but I don't want to name the airline here...

On March 25 I flew down to Delhi – my first on a low cost airline. And for Christ sake was it shaky!

Ok, so we arrive at the tarmac to board the plane. My father travelling with me mulls over...trying to decide whether one tyre really has lesser air than the other, or is it his flight of imagination. I blissfully unaware climb on board, only to discover I am stuck with a young mother with a wailing baby in her arms. Ah, I decide, there goes my sleep. Thankfully soon after the child seems amused by a plastic giraffe his mother offers Bunny – that is what the lady keeps calling him.
The plane starts…thuk thuk, dichik dichik, thuk thuk….vroooom vrroooooooooooooooom. I am not used to so much of noise and certainly not the amount of jolts during the run up that are usual of train travel. My father and I look at each other…we are still more amused than afraid. The airplane noses up into the air and the engine seems to be struggling under the pressure. It reminds me of my 10 year old Maruti when it got stuck in a 1-foot deep 'pot-hole' last monsoon.
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Finally we are in the air; Bunny is quickly losing interest in the yellow and purple polka dotted giraffe and is tugging at his mother's T-shirt for something more intellectually stimulating. Sadly, mum dear only takes the giraffe and tries to make it jump around on the now open table in front. Really, do giraffes jump… it seems that is what my rabbit named co-passenger is thinking as he gawks and tries to catch his plastic buddy in action.
I quickly put on my ear-plugs, turn on the Sony Walkman that my boyfriend loaned me as my cell phone conked off sometime back and relax. The familiar strains of Bryan Adams, Richard Marx and Westlife soothe my soul.
The air hostess – Garima – soon comes along vending vegetable croissants combos and some sandwich. I buy the croissant combo – it tastes horrible…but then all airplane food does. The fruit cake though is very scrumptious. Poor dad tries eating some of the ice cold croissant with similar success or should I say displeasure!
All the while the plane seems to be a bit too turbulent. And I am qualified to make that statement – frankly if I did not know for sure that I was born in a hospital, I would swear I made my big entry on an airplane.
Now, I am sleepy, but Bunny's mum wants to make small talk.
So, which class are you in?
Urgh, I am tired of convincing people that I am definitely an adult and working.
Oh, so you are a journalist…when are you getting married?
Now, why is that my being an adult mean I necessarily need to be married, anyway I grumble on, amiably of course, saying yes I will some day. Unsatisfied, she goes on: Oh, so you are looking for a suitor? Ok, what is this? FBI for interrogating eligible spinsters. Or is this like a matrimony.com on air. Oh, and who is travelling with you, she starts off again.
Thankfully I decide to play with baby Bunny and in turn distract my interrogator. The journey is quickly ending; I smile at the prospect of seeing my mum and brother again. Dichik, thuk thuk, dichik dichik, thuk thuk…no, not the jolts again! The funny sounding pilot announces we are soon to arrive at the Indira Gandhi airport. The plane seems so shaky, my father and I are saying our prayers. It seems to be wobbling. And then it hits the tarmac with a loud thud! And it shudders as I hold on to my seat…the air hostess had announced we could rip out the seat cushions to use as "floatation devices" if we land at sea.. huh, talk about low cost! Look ma, no life jacket just seat cushions.
Anyway, we land. And when we get off we notice that the airplane hatch door is covered with black soot or fungus, as it seems from afar. The side view glass for the co-pilot is also covered in muck or perhaps something is peeling off it… God, help us!
I have arrived safely, but shall be making the flight back on Saturday. I have already paid up and now I really can't change.  May the lord be with us, and I get another stab at writing my experiences. Amen!

An online brain, anyone?

An online brain, anyone?        

As a child I wished, prayed and begged the Almighty to insert a microchip in my brain. Why? Well then I would just once read a text book and voila, I would remember it forever. Exams would be a piece of cake! No unnecessary formulas and equations to crowd my mind…. Paradise.

Today, having a digital record of everything is a reality. Record on your cell phone, computer, Twitter, Orkut, Facebook, YouTube etc etc etc. Am I still praying for the chip? No!

Privacy is something I learnt to care for. I also discovered that finding your old friends, could also bring back memories of feeling like a complete oaf during a certain Art class. Remembering everything means remembering every single heartache, stomach infection and TV re-run!

No, I am pretty glad I have a brain to edit out the details. I am happy that it wasn’t reduced to sloth! Ok, so I had to really study hard and remember all types of algorithms and trigonometry junk, which I don’t recall too well. But hey, the rest of the stuff helped! The basics are important; god help the kids who now use only the calculator.

OOps!

He looked into the mirror and he knew something was wrong. His tie had an ink stain, hair looked ruffled and his cheeks had pillow creases. Yet, that wasn’t worrying him, it was the mirror…it wasn’t reflecting his room…
Where am I? Did I get drunk? Is this a friend’s place?

“Hi daaaarlling…” a voice called out from the living room, “Did poochies have a good nap..”

Poochies!! Yuck. This is not going well

“You’ve in there for ages…come and play sweets,” the voice cooed.

Ok, I got to be brave... Don’t panic. I obviously was drugged or was dead drunk and am with some nutcase.

“I’m coming!!” I yelled.. Ok brave face..brave face..

“Hi sleepy head!! Want to grab some cornflakes?”

“But you’re.. you’re… why?” I was started and confused. This was my dog’s vet.

“Why? God look at your face… ”

I still can’t comprehend a thing…did a doc just abuse ME. I mean, yeah she is hot as hell but, why the f88k can’t I remember?

“Dammit I am a doc, I did nothing to you…… Hey idiot.. Look here, you came in with him,” and pointed to my pet dog, “for his health check. However, you just dozed off right in my waiting room. I had the guard outside shift you to the patient room, because you were scaring the others…”

“Just a minute… ok yes I remember being tired, and I think I had closed my eyes for a nap…but that still doesn’t explain poochies”

“Poochies.. hey that’s what I called your dog. She also napped near your bed while you were sleeping… I was calling out to her.. .”

Ok, I am now totally embarrassed! I had been taking my dog to her for a year now; I thought she fancied me... But now I had dozed off at my doc’s place…a real hot doc, mind you…and I ask her if she molested me and effectively killed all my chances of ever dating her… Wow, what a day of realizations!

Hello Temptation ;-)

A 24-year-old who loves to listen to hip hop music on his iPod and plays war video games to soothe his nerves. This is the revered Karmapa Lama, Trinley Dorje - a Buddhist monk who can be true to his beliefs, and yet enjoy the perks of the 21st century.

We often think of salvation as giving up of worldly desires. A trip to the mountains, where lies no temptation. There was a very interesting question asked years ago at a Miss India beauty pageant. The question was, “Adam and Eve were warned with dire consequences against eating the apple. Yet the snake in the park was persuasive, he tempted them into eating the forbidden apple. Now you are the police; whom would you arrest for this act?”

The ladies were clear, “Of course, the snake. He tempted them, and he knew it was wrong. God had forbidden it.”

You know what they missed? Adam and Eve. Temptations are presented to you in life to test your courage, ethics and faith. You trip, and you fail! You cannot banish all the snakes (temptations), but you must learn to control your desires. Simple example, you are on a diet and your friend sends you a box of Belgian pralines. What do you do? Live with it! Let your family enjoy it, but don’t break your diet because, hey, this is Belgian pralines duh…!

I think living in the real world, with your desires is far more difficult then retiring away in the hills with basic necessities. A holiday is welcome, but a lifetime…hmm, too early to decide!

Annals of the Ladies Washroom

We have common rooms, cafeterias, malls, lounge areas, but yet I have seen scores of ladies chattering happily inside the washroom. Bedroom stories are swapped, new fashion trends and make tips are freely exchanged, plus a lot of not-so-nice things are spoken about some colleagues, bosses and even the neighbour’s wife. I have seen a maid once sitting in the corner of a large washroom at a mall, and painting!

Tell me is such banter restricted to us, or does the men’s washroom pretty much follow the same routine?

In fact, to think of it, some people take enormous pleasure in locking themselves in their ‘glamour rooms’ at home and preening themselves. SRK is supposed to have got a lot work done on his laptop, check mails etc during his alone time in the washroom. My husband, and I think a thousand others, like reading the morning newspaper inside the toilet!

Why?!

The toilet industry is a billion dollar one. People spend millions purchasing the perfect Jacuzzi, showers, basins, mirror etc. Supposedly half your life is spent on the pot! Makes sense then to spend, right? (Check this for how much thought some people have given to turn a bathroom, into a work of art: http://adelto.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/luxury_contemporary_modern_bathroom_bath_agape_bonatti_ponsi_scoop_minimal.jpg)

There is a home near London that supposedly devotes 1000 sq ft of space just to the bathing area (that’s the size of a 2 bed apartment, in most places!). Italian marble and precious stones find their way here; and so do interior decorators.

In fact, have you heard of the toilet rolls that can be customized for your needs – colour, fragrances, paper quality, all of them to suit your bum’s delicate needs. Of course, for a pretty hefty price. And yes the all gold toilet seat is a reality; a jeweler’s glamorous idea obviously.


See, now you can work on a new business model. A commercial toilet with gold leaves and diamonds with a sign – shit, but for a fee. I am kidding; or am I ;-)