Finally back home, unpacked and settled. Suitcase living is over! Yay!
Not that I don’t love travelling, don’t get me wrong there, new places, clean air, beautiful sceneries, blue seas, pools, margaritas……..
But what jolts you back to reality are the flights back home *sharp breath* *grimace*
The flights that leave for home from any destination in the world are not planes, they are buses. Filled with screaming and unhappy children, and adults. Rowdy men with too many whiskeys already in their stomachs, mummies cajoling kids into eating one biscuit more, honeymoon romances with choodas upto their necks and aunties loudly discussing their latest shopping.
Somehow, when we as a people are abroad, we know manners. We respect queues. We know which side of the escalator to stand on. We know to step aside on the metro.
And as soon as we reach the airport to come home, it all goes to shit.
There’s always this guy yelling at the ground staff in Hindi. Dude: she’s barely speaks English.
There’s the guy who uses his belly to push the check in lines forward.
There’s the family with so much luggage that it needs to be repacked right at the check in desk.
And no disrespect, but there’s the aunty who can sprint through the mall, but requires a wheelchair at the airport.
On the flight, the zoo goes worse with people with no regard for announcements.
Dude: you will be boarded according to your row. And I don’t care if you know Modi. The entire process I meant to minimise the torture for souls like me, who just want to put on their headphones and pretend to be dead for the rest of the flight.
You cannot have cognac with soda and ice. Your child cannot get a beer on your behalf. Who even drinks whiskeys like “Hong Thong”??
Moreover, you absolutely cannot open your own booze on the plane and have a party in row 48, finishing up all the water while I die of dehydration. Then Honey Singh and company will listen to songs, clap, sing loudly and curse, just cause you normally call your friend a BC………Jesus!!!!
No wonder air hostess and stewards are constantly pissed at us and airlines save their worst planes for India bound flights.
We honestly behave like we have never travelled before. We ask for it, like a misbehaved bunch of toddlers.
Indians are travelling like never before. With a yearly growth of nearly 20% just on domestic travel and over 988 lakh people taking to the skies annually, yet, IGI looks more like a mega fish market than an airport.
And unfortunately, we lack the basic etiquette towards one another that will earn us the respect of flight staff and fellow travellers.
We want the frills, the respect and the service. But do we deserve it?
Couple of things alien to us:
Queues. Seriously, queues. Like in school. Lines? Comprende?
Leaving loos clean as a courtesy to the poor guy who throws up at what you left behind
Saying “Please” “Excuse me” and “Thank you”
Also, just wait till the plane reaches its dock for heavens sake!! Sit your bottom down!
My list is pretty huge, but this current rant has probably explained the look on my face as I race towards my car from the doors of the aircraft.
It’s not that hard. We do it when we are abroad, why can’t we do it at home??
P.S. You might have your own opinion, so write a blog about it no? Don’t rain on my parade, I’m not in the mood. Touchdown!