Fasten your seat belts please!!

Flying has always made me nervous. The drive to the airport, the whizzing past of airplanes, the hustle-bustle at the airports, the intimidating crowds, the bus on the tarmac, the steps into the aircraft, the plastic smiles on the faces of the stewards and air-hostesses, the roar of the jet-engine, the sudden leap into thin air and the turbulence- a wholesome package that had become a part of my life. But, it made me nervous. As a child I always dreamt of flying in an aircraft but once I grew up and airline journeys became a part of my life, I found it lesser than less appealing. Hopping from city to city became a part of life. One fine day I would be on my desk getting ready for a hearing in one of the courts when somebody would shout, “Vinayak, you got a hearing at Mumbai high court tomorrow. So, pack your bags”. These lines would always be followed by a call to the company travel agent, “Khanna Sahab, one to Bombay. Tommorow early morning. Return next day evening”. Life was a roller-coaster. Time was flying.

But in spite of this busy schedule, there was one thing which I never missed. A fortnightly visit to Chennai to see my mother. The visit would always be on the second and fourth weekends of a month. It had become a time table. I left the office at half past five on Fridays, took a taxi to the airport and catch the half past seven Jet Airways flight to Chennai. The flight landed at half past 9 and by 10 o’clock I would be home to spend time with my folks. A few faces had become familiar in the course of time and we nodded to each other. The scene was somewhat similar today. I left office, got into the cab of a Sikh cabbie who played numbers sung by some obscure fellow who claimed to sing in Punjabi and finished the torturous journey in about 50 minutes. Entering the airport, as I handed over my ticket and my identification papers to the girl on the desk, she looked up to me and said, “Sir, there has been a minor goof-up with the issue of tickets. We are overbooked. So, we are moving you to the Paramount Airways flight departing at 7:55 P.M. It’s a first class ticket. Please collect your boarding card from the Paramount desk. Sorry for the inconvenience, Sir”. Before I could react, the next passenger nudged past me and I started looking for the Paramount Airways Desk. I had no reasons to complain. I was departing at more or less the same time, was flying first class and above all would be reaching in time to grab rice and sambar made by Ma. Life was on a roller-coaster.

Paramount promptly issued me the boarding card and directed me for the security check. The stern looking Security Official frisked me all around before letting me past him. I waited for the sign on the display board and soon an announcement made me get up from the seat. “All guests flying by Paramount Airways flight number PA 523 to Chennai are requested to proceed to gate number 7 to board”. Again, I was on the bus on the tarmac. These drivers seemed to me to be the most disciplined drivers on earth. I wonder how they would survive when they have to drive on the roads of Delhi. A cool breeze blew on the tarmac as I got down from the bus. This was the best part of every journey. I always tried to delay my embarking the aircraft as much as possible. It was bliss to stand on the tarmac. It felt light as the cool breeze blew past your face. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. A strong hand has disturbed my “solo titanic” pose. “Sir, please board the aircraft”, said a ground staff from the airline. His looks said, “Get on the flight, you upstart. You haven’t paid to shoot for Titanic here”. I walked up the stairs.

An air-hostess with a plastic smile greeted me inside the aircraft. “Good Evening Sir”. I emulated her with a equally plastic grin. I always wondered if these petite women suffered from face ache after putting up such smiles to 300 people throughout the day. A recent article had pointed out the stressful lives of these women, but for most of us on the ground, they were “angels in air”. Anyhow, I made my way into the first-class enclosure. The seats looked tempting. They were huge leather sofas. God!! I was flying royally today. Suddenly, I felt the presence of somebody behind me. Turning around, I saw a face smiling at me. “Could I take your coat please” said the face of an angel. Dressed in a trademark Paramount blue outfit, she brought the word “beauty” to a standstill. I would have stared more but the angel inside me poked me and said, “Come on Vinayak, atleast justify the divine name you have been bestowed with”. She sensed my embarrassment but did not let it show. I handed over my coat and she walked towards the coat compartment to find a place to store my jacket. I felt like a stupid schoolboy who just messed up his first glance at a girl. Oops, what a screw-up. Never mind, “why am I conscious”, I reminded myself as I settled into the comfortable seat.

The tense moments came as the plane taxied to the runway. The most difficult moments during the whole flight for me. The pilot was courteous enough to distract us by talking about weather, the duration of the flight, the names of the cabin crew and what a wonderful city Chennai was. But none helped me out. I was sweating. The jets came alive, the speed increased and kept on increasing, sounds were buzzing into my ears to the point that they might burst anytime. And then there was calm as the tyres were retracted and the plane leaped into air. The aircraft gained altitude and soon we were into the stratosphere. As the plane steadied, the Captain muttered a few more instructions. It was time for a nap. It was time for Shri Vinayak Iyer, Advocate and Solicitor to catch up on that beautiful nap that he was looking forward to the whole day. With the seat being so comfortable, there was no way I was going to miss it. If I was lucky, it was because “luck favours the brave”.

“Excuse me, Sir…..would you like to have your dinner now. We would be landing in 30 minutes from now”- the same silky voice woke me up. Her voice showed apprehension and my face showed irritation. “Some Orange juice please”, I instructed. “Nothing to eat”, I dismissed her. A few moments later, a glass of canned orange juice made its way into the foldable table in front of my seat. This time her face showed some irritation. Sleepily, I picked up the glass, drained it into my mouth and called for a refill. The refill arrived with equal irritation hidden behind a plastic smile. Now I sipped in consciousness. What a marked difference! “Theory of diminishing marginal utility” blah!!

Finishing the glass, I needed to use the restroom. I did not want to reach home tired or sleepy. Ma had his normal habit of cursing my lifestyle every time I arrived in a messed up state. She liked things orderly. As I walked up to the restroom, I found both the lavatories locked. “They are locked from inside. The red sign indicates they are occupied”, a voice said. I turned around to see the same “angel” beside me. Her voice had a major element of sarcasm in it and was covered with a “plastic smile”. I burst out laughing. She was a pathetic actor. I was looking right through her and she didn’t even realize it. Her expression now turned into one of “shock, awe and surprise”. But then she was paid to smile. Soon the “plastic smile” came back. I was barely able to control my laughter but in order to portray myself as a gentleman I decided to stop. The lavatories were still occupied.

“Don’t you guys get bored of flying” I asked her trying to be polite. “Well we do, but then we get paid for that and plus the thrill of visiting newplaces” she quipped back. “I have been travelling for the past 15 days and I already feel like a zombie”, I lied (The lawyer in me was a pathological liar, you know). A conversation started. I tried looking at her name-tag. She caught me gazing at the “wrong” place and said, “The name’s Akshara”. I hid myself and said, “Vinayak”. These were one of those moments when you feel that a tyrannosaurus rex should have eaten you up. But the dinosaur had become extinct. I had no assistance to cover my embarrassment.

Suddenly the door opened and an old man came out. Uncle should have taken some more time inside but then luck’s never on your side when you are talking to the “fairer sex”. I wanted to talk more, know more. The investigator inside me had woken up from a slumber. This was not my day. I was forced to go inside the lavatory to cover up my “confusedly genuine” intentions. When I came out she was checking the inventory. Although an air-hostess, her job profile was no better than a waitress. I did not know what to speak; I just blabbered out, “Can I have your number. Maybe we can speak sometime?”. A stern look grew on her face, “Sir, please return to your seat. If you prolong this conversation, I would have to call out for security”. I retraced my steps. Gosh!! I can’t let it happen. “Corporate Lawyer caught molesting air-hostess mid-air” could be the headlines the next day if I did not become Carl Lewis now.

The next 20 minutes till the flight landed were spent in acute embarrassment. Never in my life had I been rebuked like this. Well, I had never tried wooing an air-hostess mid-air too. As the flight landed and the doors were opened, she came to handover my coat. ”Have a pleasant stay in Chennai Sir” was all she said before she went off. I met her at the door again. Before I disembarked I gathered some courage and said, “Ma’m, I didn’t mean to sound rude or desperate. It’s just that the combination of orange juice and you make a speedball. Ciao”. She smiled and mumbled something which I did not hear. I was back to the tarmac, my favourite place. I did a “solo titanic” and boarded the bus. I wanted to be one of the first to be out of it.

The worst place in the airport is to wait for the luggage on the conveyor belt. It takes eternity before one’s luggage arrives. The threat of it being stolen or damaged looms over your head till you get it safe and sound in your hands. After a wait of a few minutes my bag arrived. Loading it into a trolley, I started for the exit when I heard an announcement , “Will Mr. Vinayak Iyer who has arrived by Paramount Airways flight no….report at the assistance desk”. “Now what? Oh my God! I am dead! She must have filed a complaint against me. I am gone.” I wanted to run away but that might only complicate things. I tried to remember every section in the Indian Penal code with respect to “outraging the modesty of a woman” and approached the assistance desk. When you pick a peppermint in a grocery shop by mistake and you are caught for it, a lawyer mind will always think about the harshest punishment.

“I am Vinayak Iyer. I was told to report here”. A man looked at me and smiled, “Happy Birthday Sir, Paramount Airways is happy to offer you a drop facility to your local address”. He also gave me a bag which undoubtedly was a gift hamper. “But it’s not my birthday”, I quipped in. The man looked around and said, “But our cabin crew gave the message that it’s your birthday. You are Vinayak Iyer na?” “Well, I am Vinayak Iyer, but it is not my birthday”. Now the man was confused. After looking at a few papers here and there, he said in chaste Tamil which when translated goes, “Champ, come on. Take the facility and go home. Make my job easy. I too have to go home. Don’t make my paperwork more difficult”. I tried to argue with him. Reasoning would not work. Then a voice behind me said, “Sir, please avail the facility. If you prolong this conversation, I would have to call out for security”. Turning around, I saw her smiling at me. Big time fixer she was.

“So it was you”, I asked her as I collected my stuff and we walked out together. “Indeed, Ihad to stop you some way or the other. Either you would have argued till I came here, which you did or you would have coolly taken the bag and walked off. In that case you would have left your number”. I smiled feeling like a fool. Women were smarter. “Now give me your number, I will call you sometime from a public phone. I won’t give out my number as of now. I hope that is okay with you”. I remained quiet and fished out my card. It had been a hard day for me. I was in no mood for arguments. She read it and looked at me “Advocate and Solicitor, whom do you solicit”. I just smiled. Before the smile ended, she waved her hand, smiled at me and dashed forward. A group of her peers were waiting for her. They got inside a cab and sped off. All I could see was a scarf that came out of the window and fluttered in the air for a while. I didn’t know whose it was or for whom it was. I found my cab and went home. Mom’s love mixed with sambar and rice went inside me and I hit the sack. Akshara was on my mind, but I wanted her to get off my mind. I managed to do the latter.

“Vinayak Sir, a call for you. Some prospective client” said Meghna, the receptionist on the intercom. “Please connect” I said and waited for the voice. We always like the “sound of prospective clients”. Money sounds good! “This is Vinayak Iyer, Associate Partner, how can I help you, Ma’m”, I said into the phone as I heard a female voice say “Hello”. “Mr. Iyer, I just misbehaved with an air-hostess mid air. I was interested in engaging your services to defend me”, the voice said. I was about to say, “Ma’m, we are a firm of corporate lawyers. We do not take up criminal cases” when I realized whose the voice was. Mind games! “Well now that you have misbehaved with her, you have no choices. You will go to jail, Akshara”. This was followed by laughter on both sides. After the laughter died she said, “How busy are you right now? Can we meet for lunch?” “I would have jumped and said yes but I am to brief a senior Advocate over lunch. Would an early dinner suit you?”, I replied. “Yes, but it has to be an early one. I have to end my day by 9 at night. I got to be at the airport at 4 in the morning tomorrow. Make it 6 pm at Geoffrey’s, Ansal Plaza”. “Done”, I said and then the phone clicked. I spent the whole day in a frenzy. Shri Manmohan Khurana, the Senior Advocate who I was to brief cancelled his appointment. I would have killed the old timer but for his legal skills without which our firm would go nowhere.

I left office at 4 p.m. I wouldn’t have met her in my black and white attire (too predictable and too recognizable). A quick change at home into a pair of levi’s and a white khadi shirt was followed by a quick decision between my Maruti Wagon R and my Enfield Machismo. I stuck to my bike and rode along to Andrews Ganj humming an old hindi chartbuster. I was there just before 6 p.m. I looked for her inside Geoffrey’s. I couldn’t find her. Then a hand went up and waved at me. My God!! She was unrecognizable without the make-up she put on during her work. She was pretty. The skirt and blazer had been replaced by a FabIndia Kurta and a pair of jeans. As I made myself comfortable into the plush chair, I could see her blushing. Well, I was blushing too. A new twist to my life’s tale.

“So, Vinayak Iyer, you wanted my number so that we could talk. So, here am I, in front of you, Shoot!” she said commandingly. Like an established lawyer, I started my opening arguments, “I am really honoured that you came all the way to see me. The call came as a pleasant surprise. I was in a fix as to how to react”. She spoke likea Defense Counsel when she said, “I did not come all the way to see you. I was in Delhi and I did not have anything to do. So, I fished out your card and called up”. How rude!! Truly, women are from Venus. We Martians cook so many stories to make them happy and look at the response from the Venetians. Always a letdown. Hiding my disappointment I suggested drinks. I was planning to avoid alcohol in case she was a teetotaler but her order of a “screwdriver” made me ask for my favourite “scotch on the rocks”. Three repeats later we had opened up quite a bit. We talked of backgrounds, of families, of education, of common interests and of course- our professions. She had a degree in Economics and was serving “geeks and goons” while I with my degree in History was also serving “geeks and goons”. We shared a common liking for the works of Hemmingway and Toni Morrison, poems of Neruda and Frost and could watch “Casablanca’ numerous times. Food was a plate of “Chicken Shaslik” for me and a “Paneer Shaslik” for her. She amused me over the fight with the chef for extra nuts and raisins in her “hot chocolate fudge”. The evening ended early for me and late for her. At half past ten, I dropped her off at her hotel. Expectations of a tight hug on the bike ride were never fulfilled as her hands were constantly on my shoulder and never moved in spite of constant breaking or accelerating. As I left, she waved with a smile. I was on cloud nine. Again in mid-air.

A few days later Akshara called again. A short call of pleasantaries. I enquired of her well-being and the call ended. Calls were followed by SMSes and futher calls and SMSes. The next time we met in Bombay. She shook all my bones by making me travel in a local train where the locals abused me in Marathi for not giving them way and then making me run at chowpati. We walked on Marine Drive where she talked nineteen to a dozen while I just nodded in appreciation. I hoped for rains like in movies but Rain God did not like me. Drizzles never happened. What a letdown. Almighty, why are you always so cruel to me? The day ended fast as always. She dropped me at the airport where I was taking a flight to Delhi. She smiled when she saw my ticket. I was flying Paramount Airways. “I am your master”, I teased her as I disappeared behind the security check.

Calls became frequent. My telephone bills went up manifold. The beep of SMS never stopped. My fingers ached from SMSing her. A delayed SMS would make her go crazy. I liked her possessiveness. Now I always travelled to Chennai fortnightly on board Paramount. Akshara would try and be on that flight.There was nothing said or done but we were behaving like a couple. Was I in love? I didn’t know. All I could say was, “I am stuck..stuck…at the sight of you..at the thought of you”.

I was in a state of slumber when the doorbell rang. I thought I was dreaming. It rang again. I dismissed it as a dream. It rang again. What a shrill sound. I went and opened it. My first sight were two huge bags followed by Akshara in her uniform. “I am on leave for two weeks. Can I stay with you? I hope you have a spare room for a guest”. I smiled, picked up the suitcases and let her in. One look at my house and she started yelling,”Except for the kitchen everything is in a mess. Lots of work to be done here. But before that I need to sleep”. I put her suitcases into the spare room, changed the sheets and tidied it up a bit. She opened the windows and let in some fresh morning air. Then she pushed me out of the room and bolted the door. I returned to my room and fell on my bed. Before I slept I looked at the watch. It was 3 am.

“Excuse me, Sir…..would you like to have your breakfast now. We would be landing in 30 minutes from now”- the same silky voice woke me up. I smiled and woke up. I made my way to the breakfast table where Paranthas stuffed with vegetables waited for me. “I couldn’t find many things for a spread, so make do with the paranthas now. I have kept a list of things I need. We would go out shopping once you come back”, her commanding voice intimidated me. As I got ready to leave I saw the list which was 3 pages long! Why do women have to shop so much. Do their hormones contain some secretion that makes them compulsive shoppers? I gave up thinking and picked up my briefcase to go. “Vinayak, Can you lend me your car. I need to finish a few things” she said making a coy face. I tossed the car keys, picked up the helmet and transferred the contents of my briefcase into a back pack and walked off to the parking lot.

In the evening she took me shopping. 4 hours of looking for things in the biggest up market mall in Delhi made me so tired that I lost my patience. But she hardly lost her zeal. After we came back home, she made me a light dinner. We watched “Casablanca” together. When the movie ended we chatted for a while on the balcony. Exactly at midnight she excused herself and went off to sleep locking her door. Was she Cindrella? “And what were you expecting dirty mind”. I smiled to myself and went to sleep.

The coming days were a state of bliss. We were living-in like a couple sans some things. Neighbours looked at us with smiles on their faces. Breakfast was always ready. She dropped me at the office every day. Meghna (the receptionist) announced that I had got married. Questioning gazes from acquaintances whom we met at different places were always dismissed with smiles. We walked, rode and drove around Delhi. She took me to watch plays while I took her boating in the Yamuna. We watched movies at Shakuntalam (my favourite theatre during my college days), ate at old places which had gone out of our social calendar by virtue of our student days expiring and walked around Lutyen’s Delhi. But one thing became a constant. Watching “Casablanca” after we came back home. She always went crazy at Bogart’s voice and laughed when I tried to copy him. She had this queer habit of poking me whenever she got a chance. And laugh aloud after she did that. A kid probably lived in her. I was falling in love with her without even caring what emotions she had for me. Truly, love was deaf, dumb and blind.

It would be frivolous not to accept the inevitable. It was bound to happen. I was shocked that there was an animal inside me but she cut me to size by saying, “the animal inside you is a pet”. Soon Vinayak Iyer and Akshara Deshmukh were man and wife in the true sense of the term sans the social sanction and the legal formalities. Two weeks just flew by. “Good times never last long”- proved to be an axiom.

As she got ready to leave I said to her, “Can you shift base to Delhi. We could stay together” She didn’t reply but picked up her travel bag. As I tried to move the huge suitcases she said, “Now that I have slept with you, are you throwing me out”. I dropped them and took her in my arms. After a few minutes she retorted “Mr. Iyer, your actions are spoiling my make-up. Plus, you ate up all the lip stick. It’s a Estee Lauder in case you don’t know.” “Screw you Askhara, I don’t care”, I said as I kissed her again. She drove to the airport with me by her side. I must say she drives like a Grand Prix driver which scares the hell out of me.

As we reached the airport and I unloaded her travel bag, the sadness on my face was explicitly visible. She made no conversations but kept on smiling at me. Then she started walking towards the departure terminal. I was irritated. Women would speak a lot in normal course, but never spoke when you wanted them to. Then suddenly she turned back and shouted at me, " I would be coming back the day after tomorrow. Make sure you don't mess up the house and wait for a late dinner". Then she blew a kiss at me and walked off. A smile came to my face as I opened the door to get inside the car.

The drive was fun. I was already counting backwards. The car smelt of her, the gear shift had her touch on it. As I eased my car into the highway, my cellphone beeped. A message from Akshara. My eyes lit up. It read, "I would be leaving my apartment next week. You want to share the rent or do I become your mistress?" She was such a fixer. I laughed and typed back after stopping the car (you sometimes want to follow the rules), "I can afford the rent but I can't afford a mistress. Look for a 'paramount alternative'. come back soon."

Life was on a roller coaster again.

P.S. All the characters mentioned are figments of imagination and resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

Dedicated to Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler whose immortal love story remains incomplete.