In the Clouds..

As soon as I hear an assuring click from the seat belt, I pull out my earphones from my bag, turn the phone into airplane mode and nuzzle into position, trying to get as comfortable as possible in the cramped up space that airlines boast of. The air hostess has started her usual routine of safety instructions in Hindi and English. Most people around me are either immersed in their phones, looking blankly at the air hostess, snoring already or just plain bored. Nobody really seemed to be listening to the woman who was doing her duty, and actually instructing us about our safety. I wonder if we were that careless or have we heard it way too many times to be able to convince us to pay any attention to them this time. Most of the people would probably concur to the latter.

Yes, I conclude, it is the latter. Once every few months, I travel to my home town and back. Sometimes, I go on business trips too. I have spent anywhere between 45 mins to 12 hours in one flight to get from point A to point B. I think back to when was the first time I had travelled in a flight. I think it was the summer of the late nineties. We were travelling from Hyderabad to Delhi, the final destination being Mussorie. My Aunt, Uncle and cousin accompanied us to the airport for the send-off to the excited first-timers. When we called a few hours later, they ask us, enthusiasm clear in their voices, How was your experience? Did you reach Delhi yet? To which we answered, “The flight was delayed”. And that day, the flight was delayed for 12 hours. The flight that was supposed to take off at 8 in the morning did so at 8 in the night. Thus, began our journey in the skies. Nonetheless, leaving the gory details out (In those days, I had all kinds of sicknesses – I suffered from bus-sickness, car-sickness, air-sickness, sea-sickness, anything that was moving a little fast really) but, it was an out of the world experience, albeit 12 hours later. Imagine an airline doing that now. With the increase in the number of impatient Indians, running to get somewhere immediately, a 12 hour delay might result in either a very injured crew or the media tearing the airline to pieces.

More than a decade and numerous flights later, an apprehensive young girl (if you haven’t guessed already, that’s me), cured of her air sickness, travels to Hyderabad from Mumbai, alone. Just before leaving to the airport, I ask my Dad the nth time, “what do I do at the counter?” My Dad patiently explains the procedure of obtaining the boarding pass, passing the security check and boarding the plane. After what felt like a herculean task then, I boarded the flight, landed in Hyderabad and reached home safe and sound.

Not long before that, I de-board another plane to put my foot on foreign soil for the first time (Singapore – the first country I visited outside India). 2 years later, I travel on my birthday, back to office – what an amazing view from the top, it was like I was on cloud nine. Another year later, I animatedly point at the Eiffel Tower from the landing plane after a restless 12 hour journey flight to the place I had always wanted to visit – France (I hadn’t slept much in the flight, anticipating this moment).

2 years and countless flights later, in present day, I yawn as the air hostess asks everyone to straighten our seats, fasten our seat belts, open the window shades and close the tray tables. I’m all set to sleep the entire journey. I almost thank my stars that the airline doesn’t include meals in its fare. I can sleep without any disturbance, at peace. As soon as the flight takes off the taxiway, I open the tray table and lay my head on it. Though I was amidst clouds in actuality, I would rather spend time dreaming about them.

A jerk. I ignore, these are normal. Turbulence, the airlines call it. Yet another jerk. Another jolt, and I’m sitting upright in my seat, annoyed for having been woken up before reaching the destination. I look around and see that many of my fellow passengers share my emotions. I look the other side, the flight was passing through white, silvery clouds (just another trivia fact: I stopped requesting for a window seat quite a long time ago, but luckily I did get allotted to one this flight). I look outside, while the sun peeking out of the clouds, smiling at me, reprimanding me perhaps for not enjoying the beauty it showered around me. I stick my tongue out at the sun and fall back to sleep again.

This time, I’m woken up only by the thud of the plane touching the tarmac. I smile and mumble a silent prayer. I have reached my destination finally.

Times have definitely changed. If you would have told the 10-year-old-me waiting to board her delayed first flight, that one day travel by flight will be so regular that the journey usually becomes the most dreary, uneventful part, she would have laughed at you.

But what remains the same is that,

Sometimes, it is about the journey. Sometimes, it is about the destination. Either way, I’m happy to travel.