I’m here. At last.
Part I: The flight.
Scheduled take-off 16.10
Harish checks in (no “sequel to Dunstin Checks In” jokes please) 15.00
Announcement of delay of flight SG-221 to Hyderabad 15.10
New departure time 19.30
Terminal 1B, Indira Gandhi Airport, Palam, New Delhi. The worst airport of any major world city. EVER. Thinking of ways to kill four and a half hours, in an airport that has no place to sit except on my own luggage trolley (i.e. squeeze buttock between two steel rods). And the A/C is not working.
Read some Chomsky, then read some Greene, then read some Einstein, then read some more Chomsky.
Located walkman. Located tapes of ‘Zooropa’ by U2, ‘The Very Best of Jethro Tull’ and ‘Rock in Rio-Live’ by Iron Maiden. Batteries not working. *extended pause to take breath before hurling abuse* … *sighs and mutters something about it not being worth it*
Half an hour before take-off, talk to Nimish on cell phone. I finally realise that my “college” is better than his. Nimish says something about causing physical harm to any BVPCOE grad who calls himself an engineer. Funny, I think. *mental note: Never call oneself engineer
before Nimish. EVER.*
People crowd departure gate in scenes reminiscent of Shivaji Stadium Terminus, Noida sector 12-22, Nehru Place terminus etc… Methinks and asks Spice Jet representative, “If I get into the flight last, will that I have to stand throughout the journey to Hyderabad?” He replies, “No sir, yahaan free seating hai isliye log aise hai.” In a patient, condescending voice. *Resist impulse to shout “KILL” and lunge for his throat* *mental note: Never make sarcastic comments to people who won’t get it.*
Board flight. Mind begins to boggle as to why people were fighting to get in first; as all seats look the same and there’s no view since it’s post-dusk and leg-space is non-existent everywhere. Take aisle seat next to a couple of phirangs.
Captain Tiwari greets us like a Himmesh-fan, “it’s rocking/I think you’re rocking”, Inlingua speaking classes grad voice. I begin to shiver in fear.
Kiss airhostess ass as am unable to move head fast enough. Thankfully; 1. She wasn’t ugly (proto-hot, actually) and 2. She didn’t care.
Rickety thing takes to the stratosphere. Turbulence throughout flight. Suck on cheap flight candies and read more Chomsky.
Damn thing lands at N.T.Rama Rao Airport at 22.30 (To any non-Indians, imagine naming an airport after an ACTOR!) I mean, Brad Pitt International Airport!
Take cab to Apurupa Elegance, Ameerpet, Hyderabad. Cab bastard thinks I’m Delhi-maal and demands 150 bucks. I tell him to shut his trap-hole in Telugu. Reduces rate to 100.
Happy Ending: Get well-furnished personal room in uncle’s place with following books of my cousins: ‘The Complete Works of William Shakespeare’, ‘Idiot’ – Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky. Eat home-cooked South Indian dinner and meet my 85-year-old grandmother.
Part II: Family History.
A story of incest, conceit, child marriages, priesthood, 11 PhDs and Communism
…some other time