I took Singapore Airlines to Singapore on a business
trip, and thereafter, went to Bombay to check up on my
parents. For the return flight to NY two days ago, I
took Air India.
In Air India, the terror starts in the very beginning
and it never relents. The moment you walk in to an
Air India plane, you notice the seats are the color of
blood-stained puke; small, silly bright reddish
flowers on a listless yellow background. I guess
chocolate colored people sitting on these puke colored
seats has a contrast appeal only the interior
designers of Air India could think of.
The plane is an ice-box complete with mists. I ask
for blankets, they tell us they are out of blankets
even though the plane capacity is barely 50 percent
but they assure us that they are taking measures.
Their solution is to deceptively offer us smoldering
hot & spicy fritters which they think will warm us in
the short term. And since there is no adequate amount
of water on the plane to cool the scorched tongue, we
will be duly distracted from the frigid cold. Focus
within, not without.
There is no sign on their toilets to let you know if
it's occupied or not, and so you have to rudely twist
the handle of the door and accidentally walk into
squatting passengers. Even when it's apparent someone
is in the bathroom, passengers love to keep on
twisting the handle causing many crappers to leave
gifts of brown trails on the toilet seat for the next
consumer. After the fetid atmosphere in the toilet,
you are welcomed to the nauseous smells in the plane
caused by mucking around with environmental controls.
Welcome to International Fragrances and Flavors.
And how about those maps on the big screen that
provide periodic updates on the geographical expanse
between origin and destination by showing you how much
distance has been covered. These maps are interspersed
with a power point slide which says "These are
physical maps only, Political Boundaries are not the
object of these maps". Do these .ing morons
actually think that the central concern of a passenger
flying from Bombay to NY is the Line of Control
between Pakistan and India?
When the plane lands in Delhi, and in London, they
renege on their promise to let you out to stretch or
scratch, whatever your preference. Instead, some
hooligans get on the plane and accost you with
questions about your passport and boarding pass and
your purpose in life (my response to them: not to be
re-incarnated as you). My friends, this is a roach
motel: you can get in, but you can't get out.
I thought the madness would stop. But towards the end
of the flight which is around 4 PM in NY, they
inexplicably served us breakfast! When I saw the
stewardess carting plates of croissants, I said quite
audibly :" Ah yes, The Last Supper" . The steward
didn't like that at all but the passengers tittered.
When my neighbor ask for immigration forms, the plump
stewardess glowers, "What do you want?". Feeling a
need to interject, I said, "Your First Born, you
bitch!"
My neighbor has served for the Indian Army, he's got a
monstrous handlebar moustache that I could swing from,
he wears Rayman Aviator glasses from the 60s, he
declares without provocation that his sinus problem
causes him to wear a ski hat and a scarf "twenty four
by seven". I almost want to ask him, Even when you
make love? But then I look at the wife and she's got a
permanent head kerchief. Obviously, these hoodlums
love their hoods.
If India and US really want to defuse the crisis over
outsourcing, its time to make a deal: US outsources
software engineering jobs to India, India lets
Americans run their domestic and international
airlines.
I really feel I should be given upgrades on the next two flights.
At the very least, I should be given a couple of goats.
-Playful_Banter |