Time has a way of bringing out the best and the worst in us.
This is the story about such a time. It was the 2nd of Jan when I received a message from Indigo airlines stating that my flight to Bhubaneswar scheduled at 5pm is delayed by an hour. Happy with the level of Indigo’s world class standards at maintaining punctuality, I gave it a 5 star in my head. Next day, I put my affairs in order and leave for the airport at 3:30pm, absolutely sure that my timing is impeccable and I can also squeeze in an extra half hour buying some cookies and watching Dexter.
When I reached the airport at approximately 1600 hours, I could not feel more proud about my own punctuality, finally Indians have mastered the management of time I thought to myself. I took my ticket from the kiosk, bought some cookies and headed straight to the assigned gate. Relatively empty. When will my fellow passengers learn! It’s not time yet though, there is still 15 more mins on the scene. I took out my laptop and my earphones and dug into my cosy indulgence, Dexter. 30 minutes pass away in a jiffy; the place is crawling with passengers, and just then I receive another message alert from Indigo.
We’re sorry to inform that your flight which was rescheduled
to depart at 1800hrs is now further delayed and will depart by 1900 hrs. So
much for punctuality.
There are a few people talking to the indigo check in assistants by the gate. Apparently, the flight which was coming from Chandigarh to Mumbai has been delayed because of “unforeseen circumstances”, weather is an untimely bitch. I come back to my seat and painstakingly explain to the Telugu aunty sitting next to me that the flight is delayed. She seems like a talker, glad I don’t know Telugu. My laptop reads a battery level of 90%. Guess, I have time to find out who Dexter kills in the next episode.
Half way through my episode, I hear a nice fat Bengali lady, in her early thirties shouting at the Indigo crew. She’s good, knows how to make a scene. Self-note, never get into a verbal spat with a Bengali woman. She’s gathering momentum; people have started to gather around the Indigo help desk at the gate. I see less of concerned expressions but more of Dhoom watching, popcorn lacking smiley faces. My Telugu aunty has now noticed this and is ready with her volley of questions! Damn!
I take a quick dodge and tell her I’ll go and find out about the squabble. A get closer to the impatient crowd and to my utter surprise, the attendant, who is perspiring now, tries to calm down the lady and other of her passive associates by telling them that the flight will be there by 2000 hrs. Good lord! I ask the nice young lady next to me, what the delay was about, and she gives me the complete picture. The flight 6E-264 which left Chandigarh was not coming to Hyderabad but rather was en route to Mumbai and due to ATC (Air traffic Congestion, read sucky infrastructure) is held up at Mumbai and will be landing at Hyderabad by 2000hrs.
Moment of clarity. I felt less for the impatient lady and more for the crew. The ratio of passengers to crew at the desk now stood at an overwhelming 30 to 3. One guy and two girls are smiling and putting up a charade until further information from Mumbai. The lady is inconsolable. She is furious and asking for her money. Bengali business lady is more lethal than African Black Mamba. She took a freaking parade of parade of passengers and in a matter of 30 mins had her own personal army, with a chain of commanders backing her up every time the crew opened their mouth trying to pacify the situation. The security person has seen their dilemma and goes back to support them, but in a verbal fight all his years of training is nullified.
I should head back now; after all I don’t want to be a part of a “good for nothing” crowd. I go back to explain my aunty who, by now, is resting her complete confidence and her pouty bag on me. After 15 mins of hand gestures and pointing at the big screen I finally get through to her. She’s a little upset, but I am glad she’s not the African Black Mamba! I look at the Indigo crew again, tough day to come to work. The flight is on its way to Hyderabad and will be here by 7:30pm, sounds good to me, and I guess this notification has worked like the Patronus charm. The Dementors is scampering back into their seats. Relief for the crew.
I called the guy, Sameer, and confirmed again. The gate has been changed, but the flight will be here soon. His courteous behaviour, even after a hurricane, appealed to my better nature. I went up to the now settling crew and took them to an eatery, close to the gate, for a Coke. The storm had subsided, people were now eager to get on the plane and leave. A sudden realization of imminent trip made people thirsty and I saw them manhandling the all so complicated soda vending machine.
These two hours had seen it all, the value of time and the ugly and naked faces of men faced with dire situations. The lights turned green and soon we started boarding. Sameer and the beautiful girls said thank you and wished me adieu. It felt like I just went through an episode of modern era Malgudi Days. Train could have been so much more interesting!
