Thursday, December 20, 2012

First Flight Blues

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1984 (Orwellian):

I was happily chatting with DB in our Joint Office C-239 at IIT KGP when Kanta Rao, our Office Attendant, barged in and told me that the HoD was asking me to see him urgently. This was totally mystifying since something like this never happened earlier with this HoD. When I went into his (Gas) Chamber, the dialogue was something like this:

He: You have to go to Madras IIT on the confidential work of participating in setting the Question Paper along with representatives of the other four IITs. The job starts next Monday and ends Friday.

Me: Why ME? I am not interested. There are surely more senior people eager to do this job.

He: Very true. But the Dean wants you to go. You will get airfare both ways and hospitality in addition to the usual remuneration.

Me: Is it an order?

He: Yes

That was it. And I was troubled on various counts. Monday was too close and that means I have no time to prepare. And, this air fare thing, I was scared. Among my many fears like fear of closed spaces, fear of strangers, fear of water bodies, fear of what wife will say...the fear of heights takes the cake. I never flew an airplane earlier and I was told that the monopoly IA had phased out the cozy propeller planes on trunk routes and replaced them with jet planes that fly above 30,000 feet. That was a little too much...25,000 would have perhaps been safer...

I told my wife my qualms and she sympathized with me and agreed to a compromise...I would travel by train on the onward journey and fly back. 

My HoD told me that though I was only an Assistant Professor with pay less than the stipulated Rs 1800 that qualifies for air travel, the Dean made an exception for me and issued an Office Order which I could collect from the Establishment Section and get the advance TA of Rs 12,000 for my (whopping) air ticket from the Cash Section. 

Which I did.

On my onward train journey I dropped for the Sunday at Gudur, 3 hours before Madras, and stayed with my parents (lest things could go finally wrong).

When I reached Madras IIT next day, I found the four other representatives were all senior professors known to each other (this job looked like their expertise). I was the lone strange particle among the lot and the junior-most. And tongue-tied. Each of them was flaunting a cheque-book-like thing in their pockets which I gathered was their Air Ticket. They were boasting to one another that it was their most valued possession since they had their Return Ticket also in it. It was all Jobberwocky to me...I knew only the old-gold one-way train ticket:



 

All of them seemed to be in a hurry to get back to their home towns after finishing the job asap. The Kanpur Prof wanted to finish the job in one day since he had lots of work back home which he left midway (why?). The others demurred but kept quiet. I was game for all the five days I was deputed to do the job. 

The second day the Administrator of IIT Madras met all of us and wanted to help us with our Return Bookings. All my colleagues told him that they have an Open ticket (whatever that may mean) and all they had to do was make a trip to the Mount Road IA Office whenever their job got done.

The Admin looked at me and I told him to help book my air ticket to Cal on Friday evening. He said ok. But he came back into our room within an hour and asked me to accompany him to the room next. There he told me apologetically that I was not entitled to airfare and so couldn't book my ticket. I told him that I have the fare in rupees in my pocket...and he was so so so relieved...and relieved me of my cash. And in the afternoon he gave me my cheque-book-ticket of IA.

Our job got finished by Wednesday evening and my four colleagues bade me good bye and said they would try and fly back Thursday morning flights.

And I had nothing to do on Thursday and so I took a train and went back to Gudur. On Friday I took the early morning train back to Madras (so I don't miss my evening flight) which reached me there at about 9 AM. And the flight was at 6 PM. I checked into a lodge and tried to sleep. But my nerves were jangling since my colleagues had told me they would all go to Mount Road.

So I went to Mount Road and hunted the swank IA Office and found a snaky queue with everyone sweating and cursing. I joined the line and the curses. It was too hot and humid...the AC failed and the newest gadget called the Computer failed too...

When, after two hours, I reached the window and pushed my ticket, the countress laughed at me and asked me why I wasted all my time and hers when it was written: "ok" in the appropriate field. 

Some lesson there.

I waited here and there and reached the good old Meenambakam Airport four hours before time and I was laughed in by the moochwala doorkeeper. And to beguile time I bought a dozen post cards from the Airport Post Office and wrote to all my near and dear...mentioning in the From Address Field: "Meenambakam Airport".

At last at 5.30 I was allowed to get into the Sec-Check and the ma'am at the door asked me:

"What is that on your shoulder?"

"My Milton Water Bottle"

And she smiled and asked:

"Don't you trust our IA drinking water?"

I grinned and took my front-window seat in the 80-seater Boeing 737 and was all nervy.

The plane finally zoomed and vroomed and took off...

It was as much of a disillusionment as marriage...


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