Subhashis Panda
Flight was two hours late.
Started like a
Lambretta and as it romped the runway, I think it's silencers fell off.
It took time to take off, a little too long. And as it should have
soared up to 35,000 feet, it did too, like a tipsy male buffalo snorting
to the left. Our seats were 9B and 9C.
Then
a drop of liquid fell on Nana, 9C of course. The Akash Sundaris had
already started their fair: none to notice that the call bell had been
pressed. When I did manage to catch someone's attention, Nana had a four
inch diameter blot on his left upper thigh. Sundari took out a paper
napkin (don't even think of it) and dabbed on the luggage rack above.
She
opened the luggage rack to check the source of the water, tried to move
the jam packed variety of bags, but fifteen seconds was not enough:
selling sandwiches, nuts and coffee was prime in her mind. She stuffed
some paper napkins into the gaps and went back to peddling her limited
variety of wares.
Meanwhile
the plane had levelled and the sound was much less. I looked up to find
a droplet trickling towards me. I pressed the call button and by the
time Sundari appeared again I had collected a few drops in my palm.
The
lady pilot announced that we would be landing shortly. As the flight
descended, the Lambretta sounds erupted again. I looked at Nana; he
smirked. "Glide in smoothly, baby", I muttered. Nana smiled and said,
"don't worry." The tipsy buffalo landed finally and as the Lambretta
sputtered dead, I smiled.
