One day you are in Delhi. Same day in Indore. Next day in Mumbai. Then you might be in Gokarna. You are Jack’s complete lack of orientation.
You see faces passing by, you stop to look at them, pretending to yourself to be curious about the world around you. But, you don’t care anymore. Sounds are muffled, faces blurry, your actions involuntary. You are going along with the wave that is sweeping everyone into motion - the ticket counter lady, as she wakes up everyday to enter some numbers on a piece of plastic to produce a piece of paper; you explain Murphy’s law to her after having switched queues multiple times and still ending up in the slowest one. The steward who greets you and everyone in front of and behind you - "Hello Welcome", while thinking about what he'll do after he gets out of this job of serving the great Indian upper middle class. You can still hear his words as you move ahead in the aisle - whether he is actually saying it to someone else or it is the echo - it is the same to you - you can’t make out the difference. As you type, the only sounds you hear are your keyboard’s and the only smell is the stewardess’ perfume as she closes the luggage compartments. You crack your fingers. You write about cracking your fingers. Then you are blank, wondering what to write next. You start noticing the complete lack of the concept of private space as one guy starts playing music - the fact that he plays Bandeh by Indian Ocean makes you feel less .... umm.. what's the word - you can’t think clearly anymore. You hear people speaking broken English in the horrible Indian accent that we've been blessed with. You cringe at its sound. Probably you are a jerk for thinking so. An honest jerk. Does that make it better? I wonder how and when people started lying. Why would you need to? You can’t think through the answers. You think about your blog and question yourself whether it is too preachy. You drink water. You write about drinking water. You look at the hostesses and try to imagine what kind of a person she would be in real life. The chubby one with a smile on her face - she looks like someone who likes to spend time with her family. The good looking one with high brow - she's the one who likes to party. You judge and stereotype everyone. The steward with an apologetic smile on his face - you still hear his "Hello, Welcome Sir". You judge people around you although they haven't done anything to trouble you. Perhaps they have - you think you want them to disappear. But, you are not sure. You notice a lady wearing huge sunglasses enter and place her wide ass on the business class seat. You judge her. You think and wonder at the sense of entitlement people have. You peek at the laptop of the foreigner next to you. Your eyes are droopy. Another hostess - she has a nice smile. Not the sexy, hot kind of smile. Not even the cute kind of smile. Your girlfriend has a cute smile. No, what this hostess has is an ‘innocent’ smile - as many of my friends in the one-way street of love will say. The flight is ready to depart.
"Ladies and Gentlemen - this is a seat belt. "
"Put on your own mask before assisting someone else."
"Mutual funds are subject to market risk…"
“To attract attention while wearing your life jacket, take off your clothes."
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Hello Welcome!"
You listen to a story by the Foreigner who is an assistant director. You remark on how remarkable the story is.
You smile a condescending smile looking at the guy who is wasting his life on Candy Crush. You judged him.
“Sir, please switch off your laptop"
You fiddle through the in-flight magazine. You see the beautiful places you want to go to. Plans of going to such places begin shaping up in your head.
You look at the glossy ads of bathroom equipments with beautiful girls. You no longer remember the name of the brand.
“We’ve begun descent into…."
You close your eyes. Your thoughts jump from one to another. Your head hurts.
“Thank you for travelling with us."