Back To Arabia

Well, I am back in Riyadh-bang in the middle of an Arabian summer. Considering that I have taken a fancy to writing about my flights of late, you might ask me how my flight was. I am not exaggerating or making anything up, but I had a very interesting flight as usual.

For starters, I was flying Air India. Things could only get better.

The flight was to leave Mumbai at 8 AM. By around 8.30 AM, we had been sent to our seats by the grumpy looking old airhostesses and a portly steward. The aircraft taxied onto the runway, and the only air hostess below 30 made the usual announcement about namaskar, the duration of the flight and she took care to point out that we were flying to Riyadh. What if someone had by mistake boarded the wrong flight after all those elaborate security measures?

Anyway, the plane taxied to the runway, but it didn’t take off. We waited there for nearly half an hour. Those of us who were near the windows got a chance to admire the slums surrounding the airport. We were getting curious as to why the flight refused to take off when we heard this announcement:

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am afraid that there is a small technical problem with the aircraft. One of the engines isn’t working.” Boy was that a relief that we heard it then! What if he had made that announcement 5000 miles above sea level. They said that it would be resolved shortly and that we could sit in the plane itself. And so Air India returned to the airport with its tail firmly tucked in between its legs. To make us feel better, they served breakfast on the flight. I had decided that I would cut down on non veg food, but I opted for the eggs all the same. Wrong decision. The eggs were lousy!

After more than an hour of sitting in stuffy Air India, we heard yet another announcement: “Ladies and gentlemen, we have some good news and some not so good news. The good news is that we have decided to let you sit in the lounge while the problem is fixed. The not so good news is that we will not be leaving any time soon.” Now wasn’t that nice of them? I got to spend the next 6-7 hours watching a 100 odd wonderstruck Bangladeshis milling around the airport. As for women, those who weren’t covered in black were on the far side of 60.

The flight was to take off only at 3.30 pm and so I thought of walking around the lounge. There was a commotion near the Air India transit desk a slight distance away. Even then I could hear a guy shouting. That meant a fight. That meant entertainment and that meant I had to be there. Turns out that ours wasn’t the only Air India flight that had been delayed that day. Another early morning flight to New York via London was also late. And it was one of those passengers that was causing much more noise than the rest of the crowd. A very angry bald guy.

“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I WORK FOR THE I&B MINISTRY. I KNOW HOW GOVERNMENT OFFICES WORK. BUT THIS IS TOO MUCH. WHERE IS YOUR SUPERVISOR. I WANT TO WRITE A MEMO RIGHT NOW. WHAT’S HIS NAME?”
The moronic Air India clerk on the other side was scarcely bothered though. Then the baldie got a hoarse throat and another took up: “I had to be in London by noon today for a very strategic business meeting. What will I do now? I have a wife and daughter to feed. How will we survive?” My heart went out to him. His life and his wife (not to mention his daughter) all depended on a business meeting in London.

A while later the supervisor came down. “THERE YOU ARE! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I WORK FOR THE I&B MINISTRY. I KNOW HOW GOVERNMENT OFFICES WORK. DO YOU KNOW MR. SHARMA (name changed to protect victim’s reputation), THE FORMER HEAD OF THE CISF? HE’S A GOOD FRIEND OF MINE. IF YOU WANT I CAN CALL HIM NOW. DO YOU KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN? DO YOU WANT ME TO WRITE A MEMO?”

It was getting repetitive and boring. And it was time to board our flight. At 4 PM, we were back in our seats. At 5 PM we were still in our seats and the plane was still on the ground. A few first timers wanted to take a tour of the craft. They asked if they could be let into the cockpit. The airhostess had a hard time convincing them otherwise. At 5.15, passengers started getting angry. And the crew weren’t forthcoming with info. Why weren’t we flying? Then came another announcement:

“Ladies and gentlemen, I know you have had a long day. So have we. We assure you that we will soon take off. We are just waiting for the pilot to come”. Yes. He actually said that. All the crew were there in the plane –except for the chief pilot! That was incredible. But we bought it. At 6 PM, the pilot made his way into the cockpit. Don’t know how he landed there. It was then a passenger’s turn to entertain us. He demanded to be let out of the flight. He couldn’t wait any longer for take off and so he took off by himself. That was another 45 minute delay.

Finally at 7 PM, Air India took off for the skies. From my window seat I could see the wings of the plane. And I kept looking to assure myself that those fan-like things kept turning.

Four hours later, I was at Riyadh airport. Immigration officials shouted gibberish, the air was hot, feminity had disappeared. Yes, it was great to be back!