Of Plastic Smiles and … for Company

 

 

 

 

The spicejet SG223 flight from Delhi to Bangalore is scheduled to depart at 4:45. All passengers are requested …
As the speakers blared, I awoke out of a fitful slumber – aSS-Spice jet allowed one, being late by almost 2 hours – and zombie-walked my way to the bus … and as the world before my eyes cleared out, I began wondering who will be on the seat next to me .. company for the next 2 hours.
The young lady in white top .. The girl in blue .. The sleeve-lesses lass !!
And by the time, I was able to work upon the pros and cons of each and every one of the bangalore-headin’-babes .. the final announcement for the yawning me was on air. The air-hostess welcomed me with a smile. I reciprocated. Given the nature of smile I have – pigish sort, for those who don’t know me – it was heartening to see her smile broaden with pleasure .. or pity I don’t know and don’t want to .. She was all well dressed, white shirt nicely tucked in the red skirt .. ‘Twas a welcome sight after all the clumsily clad Mall-Girls .. Sophistication Ahemm .. ! And the host was really handsome too .. ( Yeah, Thats for ‘you’ .. I know ‘you’ would ask )Not the darkish handsome sort , but the bright and sunny kinda good-looking. So far so good …

And I took 29 F, which sadly was the window seat which means far from the airhostesses ( or hosts too ) .. Any ways, a scheming and hoping mind .. was at work .. I concentrated on the smile of the hosts and hostesses … I realised it’s a sort of Plastic smile .. Mouldable .. Opportunistic and form taking .. Rather a heartless smile while they Perform .. It just went on and on for hours .. may be they were trained to do so .. And I pictured a airhostess in a cat-fight ..

(Smile) You bloody bitch (even broader smile ).. I know ( Smile ) Ma’am .. you have been scheming behind my back on parmeet ( the host’s name ) and now he doesn’t even talk to me ( Smiles again )

Not really funny ..

And it was then that I found out that I finally had some company .. she just sat there unpreturbed by all the faces I was making the time I kept imagining ridiculous crap. It was good to have her around .. but I wondered how she was alive at 30, 000 feet and what would happen if I reported – The Fly in My Sandwich !!

Why .. AAkhir aisa kyun hota hai .. Every one travel story to tell .. something spicy .. I always have nothin to say .. And i pondered over the endless travels from Roorkee to Delhi ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

Black betel chewing old man who slept all the way … Heavy-weight aunty with a kid who wept all the way … Young urban Pro with a mission in mind … Religious ol’ Priest all praying and kind … Why for me there’s all work and no play … Never any pretty gals or ‘preys’ to slay…!

And again, The solitary slayer with nothing to slay but time …

 

PS
For those who are concerned about Spicejet or Me or The Fly or Want ot poke around in any case .. I reached Bangalore ( or should I say Bangalooru ) safely .. and so did the fly.

PPS
The dots in the title are houseflies actually .. ! My tribute to them for pleasurable company.

 

..As it rained

And I glanced at the tick-tocking Ajanta wall clock again. The green shining radiating hands shouted blatantly at my face

4:55 ..

And another pang of insomnia .. amidst all the snoring sleep-oholics, I stand apart. I wonder .. what keeps me awake as the mind is unusually numb .. thoughtless In a meek voice, I ask if anyone else is up .. and Harshit is .. and a slight movement on Samar’s side. Hmm, atleast I have company …

But the moment I realize the awake human presence in the room, both of them as if by a stroke of cosmic conspiracy, got up in a breath and blink and were ready to leave … with a slightly-senti last-goodbye !

A bleak light coming from the crack of the ajar-door .. blurred by the rain drops .. intermittently caressing the light as they fell .. woke me up from a fitful slumber. And I glanced at the wall again .. in a hope to have spent some time sleeping .. but its hardly been twenty minutes.

Perched on the couch browsing through the channels .. .. hunh .. !?

Who is the old man .. what is he doing in all the blood ..

He just sat there .. thought-less .. gnawing absently at the piece of bread .. drops of blood dripping from it .. was he a cannibal .. was it a sin .. the human blood drenched piece of bread ..

I was there too .. I could feel metal .. taste the bittery acrid cold .. metal in my system ..

And I see myself as if in a mirror or a separate world .. with the finger on the trigger .. the death the finger tip ..

And whamm !

I was drenched with sweat .. even in the Conditioned Air ..

Shivering with fear ..

It was just a dream .. Was it ?

Que Sera Sera

My eyes were fiery red. Burning like coal against a white backdrop. And a deep groan, a rumble filled the silence of the room with a humm that fell like dead weight on tired ears. For a four year old, I took the heart-break pretty well ..

“with swollen eyes

not yelps and cries”

That was all my vocabulary permitted at that time. And as I swallowed the lump in my throat, I reflected upon the day I first saw her.

My first day at school – I was all worried and heavy-headed, not knowing what it will be like .. untill I saw her and the calm descended upon me. I cannot really say it was love at first sight , In fact I didnot know any such thing till two three years after that.

“Maine to Sunita madam se hi shaadi karni hai”

“Ha ha ha .. Hat oye pagal hai tu to bilkul”

“Isme pagal ki kya baat hai”

“Oye, she will be old ..”

“Yes Rohit, I am too old for you” Smiling ..heavenly !!

“No, you not old … ” Wailing and crying

“And I am your teacher too. Who will teach English then, if I marry you”

And I resorted to whims when Logic and Words failed.

As everyone tried to convince me at the Parents Teacher Meeting including the angel herself, I was far from convinced. I even tried a Amitabh Bachan-Ajooba-Styled stunt to impress .. but the height was a concern and I failed – not miserably though for I did get to her lap ..

Time passed like anything with her and I was loving school. But like all good things in life, it too passed. And then one day, she came all attired in a new Saari, with hair flowered and scented looking a fresh pour from the heaven. Dumbstruck, I asked her

“Good Morning Ma’am”

“Good Morning Rohit”

“Why are you dressing so goodly today ?” – Given that she taught us english, it was another of my ways of woo her.

“He he .. I got married, Today is my last day at school”

And that was when words deserted me and all I could do was mumble .. unlike my icon AB-Ajooba fame. That was when I learned my first lesson of life ..

Que Sera Sera – Whatever Will Be, Will Be !

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

And that is the moral of the story