On Air Again

"...and then Wilbur was all like, 'Dude, did you get the stuff? Let's get high bro' and then it all began. But bringing the ladies to serve was my idea. But I still don't understand why he was so shocked when I brought spanners, screw-drivers and wood to the place.." -Orville Wright in an interview.

So, after lying jobless at home for almost a month, I had a dramatic change of mind and returned back to BITS. And now I lie jobless here. It was Jet Konnect that helped me in reaching this holy abode of 40 inch LEDs and yeah, education, of course.

It was my FFE (fifth flight experience) and I'll recount some facts about this hyped mode of transport.
The most important part of a plane is the air-hostess. I say 'part' because they are definitely clones/droids/transformers and definitely can't be considered Homo sapiens. These are the reasons-
(a) Smile is their only expression. They will smile the hell out of you and keep on smiling even after you kill yourself of Paranoid Schizophrenia.
(b) Their accent is American; the American being the Terminator; which is due to their vocal-cords having been replaced by the Automated Voice Response System that you hear in the Customer Service phone calls.      
(c) There is a thin line between make-up and plastic surgery. And unfortunately they are playing Kabaddi across that thin line.

But despite all these reports from various conspiracy-theorists it has been proved that they are humans too. And below all those layers of cosmetics and plastic smiles lies a delicate heart; which wants you to buy that exorbitantly costly coffee worth Rs.60

At the beginning of the journey, you are explained the number of ways in which you might fail in completing the journey. They tell you what to do in case the plane lands on water, on a volcano, on Mars and all the other places in the universe except the airport where you initially planned to reach, before involuntarily registering into Space-Tourism. But none pays much attention for the obvious reason of not being Saif Ali Khan from 'Cocktail'. But it certainly hurt the sentiments of an old woman sitting beside me who at last growled, 'Kuchh toh shubh-shubh bol kalmuhi!'

And then starts playing low volume music with pianos, saxophones and violin, which seems classy and elite at first but after few minutes you feel like asking the hostess, 'Do you have Honey Singh? The non YoYo one?'

The window seat is amazing though. But only the first time. Because only once can you feel excited and elated on watching towns looking as tiny as your CGPA and the land looking like Abstract Modern Art, which doesn't make any sense unless you are thoroughly stoned. And in case of the clouds surrounding your window, these are the respective reactions-
1st time you watch a cloud: Oh! The divine froth materialized by the holy endeavors of His hands that made the flowing rivers, the rising waves and the growing seed. I bow to Thine supremacy. Alas! My eyes took so long to realize this magnanimous beauty of such celestial nature and heavenly intensity. Pardon me for such a brutal sin Lord. Amen.
2nd time you watch: Yeah, it's very lovely and pretty and white. And I am an agnostic actually. What are your views on the world mythologies?
3rd time: What's the time? I don't think this plane is even moving. Isn't this tasteless sandwich I just ate complementary?
4th: What's this irritating white thing I see all the time? Did some bird shit on my window?

Meanwhile the air inside the plane keeps on entering and leaving your ears without any rhyme or rhythm finally giving you a slight headache. Just like a CDC lecture basically. Simultaneously, the air-hostesses tempt you with various products, which you should profoundly avoid unless you want to land bankrupt. Because the rates are certainly sky-high. (Now I had to use that, didn't I?)

After some staring and boring moments, we finally land and are thanked by the crew for choosing their airlines, or in other terms, clicking at their name which was placed topmost in Yatra.com  for being the cheapest airlines in that route and are bid goodbye with the same tormenting smile.

But airports always make me nostalgic, as the large foreign population there reminds me of those childhood-days when I used to shriek 'Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ!' whenever I saw a hairy white man. Now I have turned a full-fledged Pastafarian and believe only in the Flying Spaghetti Monster, so it's no more a problem.

And so, I end narrating my experience with a noise-making flying-box that frequently roars above the campus teaching us a very valuable lesson of life- 'Brrrrrrrrrrshhhhhh......'