Food For Thought

Life Lessons Learnt at an Airport

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After months of planning and preparation finally we were set to start our Europe trip. The flight was at three in the morning. We had to leave the house at ten p.m. Why? Daddy dearest must not miss his beauty sleep. For crying out loud!!! In the past twenty years of marital unbliss, this is merely a peck. Anyways.

Check in was cool. A bit hoo ha in the security check over my torch cum multi screw drivers. We threw away the screwdriver bits so the torch was ok to go. Airport is a great place to indulge my hobby – people-watching. Same as bird-watching only with people. No I don’t use binoculars, (would love to though at times) In the close confines of the airport, people do not mind the staring much. Everybody is bored , everybody is waiting. They don’t mind a crazy looking female recording their antics. Sometimes they stare back. Long story short, I am never bored in an airport. Sometimes I get sparkling conversation too.

ALSO SEE :   A Road To Walk Alone




There was a huge travel group of baniyas just ahead of me in the security check-in queue, with a bag full of eatables. The security guy espied their huge jar of achar but let it go with a smirk, “Home cooked food is good.” Life lesson learnt – give up the greed for Ma’s home cooked goodies when flying abroad. All security personnels are not so lenient. My brother tells me a heart breaking story where in once he had to chuck a box full of besan ladoos in the dustbin. That he did very painfully, slowly (in case the boorish officer changed his mind) and not before he had popped in two into his mouth.

A couple caught my eye while checking in the luggage. Over fifty, but fit. The man had a ticket with some Krishnan something, south Indian name. Now the woman was wearing a fitted short kurta and patiyala, sans duppatta with a kind of medusa hairdo you know all curly and messy. Hmm!!! There are plenty of women strutting about in Delhi without their Lajjavastra in place. In fact that is quiet becoming the norm now. But fifty plus!!! And with a medusa hairdo!!! Double hmmm. Interesting.




It was one p.m., way past my bedtime. Sleepy like hell. And cold. I was silly enough to leave the jacket in my check-in baggage. But the sweltering 45 degrees temperature outside this air-conditioned heaven had something to do with it. Life lesson learnt – never catch a flight or a movie without your jacket. Give people an A.C. remote and they kind of get sadistically inhuman. I huddled in my flimsy stole to gather whatever warmth I could. T3 waiting lounge seats are really shitty. They ought to install high backed cushiony chair wherein a body can sprawl, snooze, snuggle in. Here we have low back hard chairs where you cannot even sit comfortably.

After a while I took a walk and got myself a coffee. Behind a pillar I spot the medusa haired woman and her companion sprawled on the floor, deep asleep. What a brilliant idea. I promptly came back. Found myself a pillar and settled comfortably there much to the disgust of my husband.



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