Flash back

The monitor attached to the ceiling of the Boeing 747-400 shows that we are flying over Baghdad. It also says that the altitude is 10972 meters and the ground speed is 552 mph. temperature outside, - 54F. Though I am a bit cramped in the ‘cattle’ class, it is not worse than the Bangalore- Goa KSRTC ‘Super deluxe’ bus as I had imagined, and covered in the blanket provided by Luftansa, I am quite cozy. Four hours into the flight, my leg has just started bothering me, but it can be ignored for another hour or two.

But my stomach has started growling. My wife packed some snacks for herself in spite of eating a hearty dinner last night saying that since she is going to be awake all night, she is likely to feel hungry and offered to pack some snacks for me too.
“You have had your dinner as usual is it not? You will feel hungry again only at breakfast time tomorrow morning. The airline will surely provide something by then. Whether you are sleeping in your house or flying in an aircraft, you have the same stomach. I don’t understand why it should act differently. Don’t fuss unnecessarily.”
In spite of my wise remarks she did pack some snacks and it was in her hand bag.

I did not carry a different stomach for the trip either, but my usually well behaved stomach has started acting differently. I am used to eating my words and I may have to do with that for the time being.

We had reached the airport at midnight and had boarded the flight at 3AM. Soon after take off the airline had provided considerable quantity of quite edible (I may even term it tasty) bread like thing stuffed with some unidentifiable substance, ketchup and juice. My wife refused it and I had consumed the whole lot ignoring her “Is it already breakfast time?” taunt. Now the stomach is growling again and my ears are awaiting the squeak of the trolley. If nothing comes around for another half an hour I will need to surrender my pride at her feet and ask her to open her bag.

We had to travel to Mumbai by an early morning flight from Goa and in my anxiety about oversleeping and missing the flight, I hadn’t slept a wink last night. I had thought that I may be able sleep on the flight. With out realizing it, I am getting excited about the trip and the excitement, along with the hunger is keeping me awake. Every one around me are sleeping peacefully and I can hear some one snoring too. Since I am unable to sleep, I am trying to pen down my thoughts with the overhead focus light on, and I have a feeling that I may be annoying my co-passengers. Any moment I am expecting a tap on my shoulder and a request to switch off the light.

I am unable to believe that I am on an international flight heading towards America, the ultimate ‘foreign’ country. ‘Foreign’ countries were places where the lucky people of the world lived in their fabulous houses and moved around in shining sleek cars on smooth roads. Only the luckier lot of our country men got to go there and what was left to us was to watch the planes flying high above us carrying these people. Our flight of fancy was just to get close enough to them in an airport and see one of them landing or taking off. I can not forget our excitement and happiness when my father accompanied his employer to Cochin on an Indian airlines flight and had taken us with him to the airport. We stood on the roof of the airport, waved to him before he got into the aircraft and imagined that we even recognized him sitting next to one of the windows. It is not easy to believe that I am inside one of those airplanes flying to a ‘foreign’ country. The plane, other passengers, the airhostess and everything else appear to be real, so it must be true.

I can see the airhostess approaching, handing out hot tissues for freshening up. I hope that the trolley is not far and the tray again contains something that I can eat. No need to rob my wife’s snacks. If my stomach settles down I hope to catch a wink and I will continue later.