Two Years Ago : May 31 , 2007.
"....The scheduled departure of American Airlines flight from New Delhi to Chicago was at 12:30AM on 1 June. The office cab was waiting outside my home, sharp at 8 pm, two big black suitcases and a medium size trolley bag encumbered onto the cab.
Until that moment, I was hurriedly making sure everything was inside my baggage or within my vision. My disordered list of ‘items to carry’ disfigured by continuous attention; I could barely manage to see what remained.
The third horn from the driver reminded me that it was time I hugged my mother and took her blessings. My father, brother and sister were waiting inside the cab, after loading the stuff. They would wave me goodbye at the Airport.
My mother stayed back. As I lowered myself to hug her small body, she had just one thing to say, “Keep good care of your health! Nothing else matters.”
The travel time from my home to New Delhi’s IGI Airport was about fifty minutes. Within those fifty anxious minutes, I gave numerous instructions to my younger brother, some last reminders to my elder sister and some serious notes to my father. My father had recovered from a near fatal injury from an accident about two months ago but he was quite happy and proud to see me flying abroad. My brother had come back home from his Engineering institute on his term break and he was excited .My sister had always been crazy about foreign countries and she was elated on my sudden US visit. It was my first international journey, and they all listened to me patiently.
My father patted my back as I went for the check in at Terminal 2 of IGI Air
port.
“Make sure you handle these suitcases properly, they don’t seem to be robust enough!”
“I had told you, buy a better one. You didn’t listen to me!” my sister was my greatest critic and how could she miss this chance of reminding me of my mistakes. Of course, she had told me earlier those suitcases would not last long, perhaps not even this journey, because I had bought them quite cheap.
Now as I pushed my trolley cart towards the Entry gate, those big black’ load holders’, seemed to be on their last journey. I was cursing my friend Kannan, with whom I had shopped them, just a week ago. Now I just prayed they could make it to America safely with all my newly bought T-shirts, trousers, jeans and accessories packed inside to maximum capacity. I waved at my father, brother and sister as I entered the Security check counter. I was feeling a sense of exhilaration as I prepared myself for the longest air journey of my life. From that moment onwards, I would not be able to see each of those faces until I return safely from America, after three months. However, right now, I would have to spend the next three hours at the Airport all by myself if Deepak did not reach on time.
He worked in my office and we had just talked once on phone a few days back when we learnt that we were going on the same flight to Chicago.
From Chicago he would fly to Austin, Texas while I would continue my journey to Columbia, South Carolina after a stop at Dallas.
My bags scanned, weighed and those black suitcases put on the conveyor belt for their separate journey in the plane cargo with destination marked on the stickers. I implored that they should get a superior robust companionship with other big baggage in the cargo. They had too many of my precious belongings!
Scanned for Security purpose; I removed my belt and waist pouch and watch and wallet, numerous times for checking. Post 9/11, everything going to America was being monitored; I was speculating if they could monitor an evil mind!
Post the tedious Check-In procedures, I finally sat inside the departure terminal. Somnolent, lethargic and drowsy, I looked for a phone booth and rang home. It was my mother and I informed her that I was okay and ready to go. She was eager and extremely enthused on the phone; she just did not express it while I was at home. I comforted her; I would take care of myself.
I rang Deepak and he told me he was inside the Airport and looking for me. I informed him description of my dress and the colour of my turban. We had never met earlier; we only spoke on the phone after we learnt about our same flight. CSC, my organization, constituted three major divisions, employed about fifteen thousand people. I was acquainted with only a handful, Deepak was not amongst them .I had joined this company only 45 days ago and within that period, I had gone through numerous trainings and travel related formalities. It was a regular feature to send employees to US for project assignments; however, my US sponsorship was an exceptional paucity.
I met Deepak after he spotted me and we spent the next hour waiting near Gate No.4, where American Airlines Flight 233 fuelled to take off. Curly black hair, oval face, round body yet athletic muscles, he had a beguiling smile. He told me he would come to Columbia City after spending 15 days in Austin. He was on a month long tour while my planned return from US was on 6 September. He told me that he had never been to a foreign country and he would miss his wife and family very much. I told him “don’t worry; your one month tour would be over soon!”
I could feel the tiny goose bumps inside me as we sat waiting. I relaxed myself as we talked about working in CSC in perspective, about our families in general and about life in America in particular.
As the boarding call announced and we lined up, I observed the comrade of passengers moving towards the boarding counter. Amongst them, I could discern a few young couples with kids, some old men with hats, some women with gowns and some fair-skinned foreigners in fancy outfits.
Inside the flight, Deepak and I parted ways as we sat quite far away from each other. My co-passenger was a young person who looked the same age as me. We shook hands and comforted ourselves. He sat at the window seat and I was on the aisle.
He told me that he worked in a software company and this was his first trip abroad. I inquired about his final destination.
He replied, heedlessly. “Los Angeles.”
I stemmed my sensation, “Wow! You can see Hollywood! “
He smiled back, “oh yes, I look forward to visit that!”
I craved with a mouthful of sky, what if we could swap our seats as well as our final destinations!
Perhaps, it was destined otherwise.
The flight took off on the scheduled time. As it took some elevation, I tried to look outside from my aisle seat. All I could manage to see was the pitch-dark Delhi sky with a few tiny lights blinking on the earth below.
Inside the aircraft, flight attendants were pacing up and down the aisle with their chirpy smiles and artificial makeup. Some elderly flight attendant was serving a drink to an old man. May be they employ such aged Airhostesses aboard night flights, I thought. I was expecting young beautiful smart savoir-faire cabin crew in an international airline. I had traveled in domestic airlines; they all had young girls and boys as crewmembers. I had seen airline commercials...wow those girls looked amazingly beautiful, on TV and on print. I thought that this woman was an odd one out, but to my utter dismay, they all looked like grandmothers. I remarked to myself ‘their granddaughters must be’ flying princesses’ in some airlines back in America!’
I pledged that I would write a petition to American Airlines for employing women over the age of fifty to serve men under the age of thirty.
May be the younger assortment would turn up during the morning.
“What Morning? Will there be any daylight during the flight? “
I checked the flight map. The entire 16-hour flight would span across West-Asia, Europe, flying over Iceland, Greenland and Canada before entering Chicago at about 5:30 AM, US time. I would hardly see any daylight, as I would travel in three different world time zones but entirely through the night. Wow! I would fly over more than half of the globe…all those places I had once traveled in my childhood dreams when I used to play with the model of the globe and the maps on my Atlas book!
Soon those American grandmothers served meal to me. Within their predictable smiles, I could see a thousand wrinkles. This was torturous. Sixteen hours of flight with such a plight! Poor granny...She should be sleeping in some far away boat house with her second or third husband with no one but nature around ...but here she was in the white and blue AA uniform...Posing as the hostess of the skies!
I finished my meal and took a long walk down the aisle. I must have been flying over Iran at that time and as I examined the interior, I found Deepak already lost in some deep mourning. Probably he was missing his wife too much; I did not wake him up. Everybody else around was also preparing to sleep. White men, brown women, black kids….and those old aunts. After a walk through the cabin, I returned to my seat and turned on the flight map. It displayed the elevation as around 30,000 feet, outside temperature as -15 degree Celsius, local time as 1 June, 12:15 Am and destination time of Chicago city as 31 May, 6PM!
There were million miles to fly...and I wished I could see the world beneath. Since it was a night flight, it was all dark outside, and in that stratosphere, my body craved to squeeze out of that tiny window, stand on the wings of the plane and fly!
Sitting on my seat, I changed the display screen in front of me and I could see a tiny picture of the airplane on the map screen, flying in slow motion over the mountains of West Asia.
Hah! The whole world is under my feat!
My co-passenger was in deep sleep. Everyone looked so tired and dull.
What is wrong with me, why was I looking for some entertainment?
I opened the in-flight video in front of me...but shut it off after a few minutes. Huff…Boring movies and boring commercials!
I took a deep sigh, closed my eyes and tried to sleep. There were wandering thoughts and random visions dancing in my mind. There should be something to slow them down. I was on my way to America, to live a dream I had nurtured since so many years. I had suppressed the inevitable enthusiasm all this while, however, that cerebral brooding was inexorable.
The lights around were switched off with only a few dim bulbs illuminating
the airbus. The only sound I could hear was of the engines of the jet and some whispers from a nearby seat. My eyes were craving for rest, my body was telling me to let loose all that I held. My hands made a sound as I clasped them and then crashed them on the armrest. Soon those visions got tired of dancing .This was the right time to take the chance, I let my eyes take the lead as my body adjusted to the curvature of the seat and my mind went into a total blackout.
I had the most beautiful dream to keep me occupied throughout my sleep. An anonymous dream...Someone was calling me …and I was moving towards it…at jet speed.
