These days,I am travelling quite frequently to Hyderabad from Mumbai to be with my new-born baby boy & my dear Wife(who is consistently nagging me that the child is getting more attention these days than her)
My parent’s being in Mumbai keep questioning me as to whether I am taking the rail route or the Aerial one .More so often it does alternate between both those modes.
My dear Wife questioned a while ago,’Why don’t you make arrangement’s for to get Attaigaru(Ma-in-law) on a flight once?’
I wish she realizes that I am not the only threat to airhostess’es that my family has to offer. My mother is better than me when it comes to them. I dread to travel with my Mom on any route offered by any Airline as I know for sure it would be a harrowing experience.
My dreams were haunted with the thought of being on the same flight with my Mom and my imagination just went crazy thinking of actually travelling with her on a Mumbai-Hyderabad flight and the scenario that it would be.I herewith share the same haunting dream and believe me,it is a harrowing experience.
To be frank,the Malladi’s are not used to air travel. We are one of the many Indian families whose standard of living has been linked to the IT revolution in India – which means the preferred mode of transport in most of the cases would be the South Central Railway(SCR) as it is fondly known to be.
As kids traveling by a 2nd class train compartment to our native place was a luxury. It was so much a luxury that during summer vacations my father planned train trips with bedrolls. While it was a means to a destination for all others….for us the train it self was the destination.
Back to my dream about being on the flight with my Mother dearest,I hear her getting up and shouting at the nearest air hostess: “Don’t you give wet towels like the other Airlines do?”To avoid embarrassment, I immediately got up and left for the washroom.
When I came back, I passed the air hostess who was arguing with my mother and I heard her say: “Is the passenger sitting next to you, your mom?”
I couldn’t say no…so without looking at my mother, I replied: “I am sorry, I don’t know which passenger you are referring to.”
“The lady that wants eight wet towels for her grand son at home,” said the pretty damsel. I didn’t look at the air hostess but I was sure she was smiling at me.
The journey was pretty uneventful till my mother wanted to use the washroom. She went in, and came out within two minutes…complaining that there was no water in the potty. “What kind of service does this Airline provide? There is no water in the potty!”
Before anybody could respond she dug deep into her traveling experience and said: “Way back in the late 70s the long distance, steam-engine driven trains used to have such water problems. But I definitely didn’t expect this from this Airline.”
I walked up to my mother and explained that none of the airplane potties had water. And that it operated on vaccum…all one had to do was press the ‘Flush’ button.
“Are you saying that when the ‘Flush’ button is pressed, all the crap gets sucked and thrown out of the airplane?” Now my mom was being louder than before.
To end the conversation, I said: “Yes! Now will you please get into the washroom again?”
But my mom had other ideas. She turned towards the cabin crew and asked them in a Head mistress like tone: “What if some of the crap falls on somebody’s head? Wouldn’t the guy feel miserable?”
I gently reminded my mom that that’s exactly the way it happened in the trains – her favorite mode of travel. The crap fell out of the train and was always left behind on the gravel.
Just that when we landed in Hyderabad, she said: ‘One can’t be too careful about having a roof over one’s head when a plane passes by.”
All I could mutter was: “Surprisingly none of our 2521 relatives has ever narrated a crap-falling-from-the-plane experience.”
“Yeah!” she agreed. For once.