Indicative photo of Julia Roberts. Source: internet
This was a few years
back… …
I was away from the scorching heat of Delhi in June for10 days leading a
delegation to an international conference at Birmingham. All good things
come to an end rather too soon.The pleasant weather affected my sense of time
too, and what was jealously called a long jaunt by friendly colleagues back
home, alas had ended very soon. It was with a nagging sense of nostalgia that
our group left for the Birmingham airport to take the flight back home early at
7 a.m. on that beautiful June morning.
It was only on reaching the airport that I discovered that we would be
traveling to Zurich by an airline whose name I had not heard previously- ‘Cross
Airways’. Of course I was cross with myself for not having ensured that I
traveled by some renowned airline. That would have given me some comfort and
kept my nerves a bit calmer against the terrible fear of flying that I have.
After exchanging the fistful of small change for a slim chocolate bar, I asked
the shop assistant about the airline that I was to fly. I got a rather soothing
reply that the Cross Airlines was a subsidiary of the famous ‘Swissair’. This
bit of information and a few bites of the wonderful bitter chocolate made me
feel better. Just then the announcement requested us to proceed towards the
gate for taking a coach to board the plane.
It
turned out to be a cute little plane with four rows of seats- two each on
either side of the aisle. I don’t think the capacity of the plane exceeded 50
passengers. I hardly took notice of the two airhostesses and slumped in my
window seat in the last row of the plane. The fear of flying was back in full
form and I was becoming nervous. Obviously the mild tranquilizer taken before
starting for the airport was mild indeed.
I fastened my seatbelt and had a look around.
It was then that I noticed her
for the first time. She was the airhostess who had started distributing some
eau-de-cologne tissues and some toffees, starting from the middle of the plane
and was moving towards the end. She was serving the passengers in the second
row when it happened. The passenger told her something and she blushed. Her
cheeks became red and she murmured something. I strained my ears every bit but
could not understand a word.
Suddenly I noticed to my horror that the passenger
who had made her blush was a member of our delegation. I had met him for the
first time just before leaving India and the balding gentleman in his late
fifties had appeared to me to be – well, a gentleman. It was clear to me that
the old rascal had tried to make a pass at that sweet little hostess who would
a have been young enough to be his daughter. I almost swooned at the very
thought of this erupting into an unsavory incident marring the image of our
delegation. I had half a mind to go up to my colleague and give him a piece of
my mind but somehow restrained myself.
In the meantime the poor hostess had continued her drill and was serving the
rows ahead of me. When she politely brought the tray near me I told her in my
best French that I wanted ear plugs or some cotton for stuffing my ears since
my ears have excruciating pain if I don’t plug them during the plane rides. And
then it happened again. She blushed. Her pinks cheeks became red and the gaze
of her clear blue eyes dropped towards the ground. That was the most beautiful
blush I have seen in my life!
But alas, instead of enjoying the sight, I was
stunned at its happening. It must have been something that I had said, I
thought. I quickly repeated the sentence in my mind but could not find anything
offensive. I kicked myself for trying to impress her with my far from perfect
knowledge of French. I should have stuck to my Babu English in Panjabi accent.
I did not know what to do and the time seemed to stand still. And then a sweet
murmur left her lips, ‘Sorry Sir, but we don’t have ear plugs’. By that time
the blush had slowly evaporated and her cheeks had regained their pink colour.
And then she was gone. I strained my eyes following her. She moved towards the
front of the aircraft and started talking to the other air hostess, who was
tall and had a pleasant face with long sturdy legs and a gait that
disclosed her interest in sports.
The little one returned a little later. She blushed and handed me a small
vial with some liquid and again apologized for not having any earplugs in stock
and advised me to use the liquid instead. Thereafter she went to attend to an
elderly passenger across the aisle. I started fiddling with the vial, frankly
being in two minds.
I searched for my reading glasses to decipher the instructions printed in
small print on the vial . But very soon she came back. She blushed again and
apologized- this time for not having explained to me that the liquid was to be
put in the nose and not in the ears. While I was still trying to recover from
the last blush, the Captain of the plane was on the air informing that we were
about to land at the Zurich airport.
The landing was slow and smooth. The aircraft came to a halt and passengers
starting deplaning. My turn came at the end. Both the hostesses were standing
near the gate. As I came near the gate, it happened again – yes, she blushed
once again and apologized for the inconvenience.
It was only then that I realized that I had not had any feeling of fear much
less any problem with my ears during the entire plane journey!
……………………………………..
(First published in ‘SunTimes’, Bhubaneshwar
on November 21, 1996 and subsequently on August 6, 2012 on my website at http://www.fiftyplustravels.com/?p=2588)
