It was cold and smoky outside Delhi Airport when I stepped outside after managing to drag my 50 lb bag from the carousel amongst the melee of passengers crowding nearby and competing to outsmanoeuvre and outsmart one another to grab their bags. I would never ever risk wearing sandals or light shoes there, lest I want to lose a toe nail or worst a finger. It is not unusual for folks to bump on each other while collecting their gargantuan luggages, occasionally running over them with their trolley, especially on the feet of an absent minded or unsuspecting bystander.
A burst of cold fog welcomed me as I stooped out of the Terminal 3 of IGI Airport rolling my luggage filled trolley to Terminal 2, about a furlong walking distance amidst scores of folks standing outside wearing placards welcoming - Charanjit Sings, Neha Grewals, Vijay Ahujas from So and So Corp. We learnt in our Middle School Chemistry that Air is a mixture of invisible colorless and odorless gases. I could literally see and smell the heavily wet and foggy Delhi air which disproved the age old law of Chemistry. It seemed like pollution stilled the Delhi air as traffic stops at a red light.While loitering inside the Terminal 2 Airport after checking in and clearing the security before boarding my flight to Bhubaneswar, I saw Samosa displayed at Rs. 250 a piece behind glass cover at a store. It reminded me another saying in Hindi - "BOSS PE BHAROSA AUR AIRPORT ME SAMOSA, DONO MEHNGI PADTI HAI" (Trust on Boss and Samosa at Airport could be costly).
The Air India flight to Bhubaneswar which for years normally starts from from Domestic Terminal 3, was leaving from Terminal 2 this time. No sooner I checked in for my last leg of flight to Odisha's capital, than I settled down on one of several empty chairs next to the boarding area around 4 in the morning. Another 3 hours of waiting before I catch my flight to Bhubaneswar, so I tried to catch up my lost sleep. But the jet lag refused to cooperate. Eyes and ears wide open I spent looking at loitering passengers. Eyes soothed by staring at neatly dressed air hostesses sliding their wheeled bags in one hand and speaking on cell phone on another. Not long ago I could distinctly hear a guy passing by farting loudly, the sound fading away as he marched on, due to what we studied in Physics called sound's Doppler effect.
As it neared the scheduled departure time of the Bhubaneswar bound flight, the sparcely populated area slowly started filling out. The fog outside forced the sun to take a break to rise above Delhi. A burst of wet fog engulfed me as I stepped into the bus to take me to the termac where my Air India Aircraft meant for my destination was hiding in the misty darkness. I could recognize the typical Odia crowd nearby from their looks, language and mannersism. We Odias have some great civic sense. In one of my earlier trips I saw a guy surreptitiously scratching his private part in public while waiting to board, grimacing with orgasmic pleasure moans of big sighs "Aah, Ooh" laced relief from the itch as the heat and humidity of India can cause real havoc down under. When our eyes met he pretended to adjust his belts with a "Not I" look on his face.
The Air India flight took off from Delhi turmac slicing through the morning air escaping from the clutches of dense fog to be welcomed by golden sun rays while slicing through thin, low hanging clouds like a hot knife through butter. I looked outside the window. Up in the dust free air the orange sun on the Eastern horizon popped up, looking like the sunny side of poached egg for breakfast. Crimson color cloud on the far eastern horizon suddenly looked like hot lava flowing from a dormant volcano turning active. The world above the clouds is dream, taking you to Cloud 9. The world below it is the reality. The roaring big bird was flying high, whizzing past low lying clouds, enabling me to take a peek outside to get a Bird's eye view. The plane was flying over snow white fleece of cloud looking like a vast cotton plantation. Huge mushroom clouds looked like the snow capped castles of some distant planet in the Guardian of the Galaxy. After 30 minutes in air I could see snow clad Himalayas glittering at a distance. What a lovely view it was !
Years ago I was flying alone to Bhubaneswar on a similar flight. A guy next to me was conspicuously reading The Economics Times. I asked him for his reason for travelling to Bhubaneswar. He said he is on a short trip to Odisha where he envisions future lies in Organic farming as a potential money spinner.
During the course of our conversation the amateur farmer in me asked him certain aspects of farming, which I expected this gentleman with an interest in agriculture to know. Apparently he seemed very novice on farming, sounding more like an investor on a hunt for big bucks and ready for the kill, not to nurture the nature. He was analogus to a soldier who had never set foot on the battle field, a city boy who had never grown a plant by himself. Our conversation turned out to big a damp squib.
Inside domestic flight to Bhubaneswar I have grabbed opportunity to interact with many interesting personalities. Once a man sitting next to me was a garrulous guy full of hot air. He boasted how like Hercules he carries all his company's responsibility on his shoulders and without his expertise it would collapse like a pack of cards. How indispensable he was and has visited all the 75 states of India on various company trips (never knew there were 75 states in India, even if you include the Union territories).
Years ago in one such homeward flight, groggy with jet lag, I dozed off to the humming of the airplane engine for the first half an hour of the flight, my head drooping sideward. The Airhostess politely woke me up - "Veyzz (veg) or Non - Veyzz, Sir ?". "I like non-veg", was my impromptu, reflex action reply in a semi asleep state. She served the food, suspiciously glancing at me, thinking I passed a double entendre. In India non-Veg means food containing meat, fish or poultry, but colloquially it denotes a person with carnal or amorous instinct. Bawdy, dirty jokes in India are often termed as "Non-veg" jokes. Living outside India for a long time had taken its toll on me. I better be careful lest I am branded as a dirty, middle aged man.
As the plane lowered itself preparing to land at Bhubaneswar, the rivulets meandering through the grayish landscape down below formed a spectacular sight, basking in a foggy, grayish and bit dimmed morning sun. The green, undulating waves of Eastern Ghat mountains were swimming in the misty fog. River Mahanadi looked like a huge cold blooded Anaconda taking a sunbath on golden sand to stay warm. Approaching Airport, the river Daya down below appeared like a gargantuan brown horseshoe covered in greenish water.
Every other year I fly over Bhubaneswar, the city I moved into as a 7 year old in 1976 and never left, sadly I see more concrete and asphalt, less green foliage as the asthetic city once known for its salubrious weather slowly turning into an urban jungle. Peeked below to take a view of the city I grew up with to notice that has outgrown itself. Saw multiple skyscrapers staring at the plane from down below as vehicles looking like match boxes were snaking on the highways. I left Bhubaneswar for good for more than a quarter of a century now, but the city has never left me. Way too many skyrises see from the top have gone over the top. They are becoming a growing environmental concern - gonna to bite this city big time sooner or later.
How contrasting is the worms eye view of the sky from the ground to the bird's eye view from the top. It makes me understand the meaning of the phrase "Down To Earth". When it all seems you are on top of the world, in minutes you are back on the ground. So are the vagaries of life. How much and how high you fly you have to come down - in no time you must descent from 39000 feet to ground zero. Airplane teaches us a lesson on life than anything else.
I was reminded of this incident when the flight landed at Bhubaneswar close to lunch time, I heard a guy from the front row shouting to his wife to keep the mutton (goat meat) curry ready for his lunch. I quizzed him "Sir, you must be hungry". "Addressing an unknown as Sir on first meet usually impresses, even flatters the person). He responded "Yes, I am. I had been with Gujjus (Gujuratis) in Bombay on a business trip till Sunday. So no luck with meat in my meal. Followed Monday and Tuesday, (vegetarian day for many Oriyas). Today I desperately want to break free with a typical Odia style home cooked mutton curry". The hungry me rolled tongue over my lips as I swallowed a few sips of saliva while remembering this incident as the flight descended on Bhubaneswar.
My day dreaming came to an abrupt end by by the voice of the stewardess "Please keep your seat belt fastened until the plane comes to a full stop". No sooner the announcement was made than I heard incessant clicks of opening up the seat belts. Surrounding me mobile went up likes the hands in a Baba Ramdev Yoga camp followed by chatters announcing arrival. More later...
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