The Indian experience starts at T4

Without naming this airline that I regularly fly between LHR and DEL (there are just a few direct flights so take your pick) I sit in the security lounge today, sigh and resign myself to the inevitable. Chaos shall reign for what seems like an eternity, but in the end all will be well. There is no better way to prepare one self for India.

Three things are different today as compared to my other recent trips:
A) It's their busiest day since the holiday season and the airline seems surprised by this
B) I'm a bit under the weather
C) I've lost an important tier point on my airline card (not enough business/ intl' travel) which means I can't check-in at Business/Premiere (What a drag!)

The queue for web check-in, consisting (mainly) of the more cool people appears to be shorter than the regular economy one. However about 15 minutes later we've only budged a few inches. The Indian family behind me is getting more and more indignant by the minute.

Young lady at the back: “I always fly BA and this time I thought I’d try these guys but never again!”

The lady's grand-dad: “The lady behind the first counter has been on the phone for 10 minutes sorting out seating issues. Where is their manager?”

Another lady behind: “And look at the third counter, that gentleman with two luggage trolleys is still arguing.”

Her relative: “They are busy with that small baby and not checking anything in ….”

Me (feeling obliged to chip in as it became a free for all): I’ve been flying with [this airline] for over a decade and I haven’t seen it being this shambolic in along time.

The grand-dad to me: “So you are flying to Mumbai?”

Me: “No, actually I’m going to Delhi”

The grand-dad: “Are you Punjabi?”

Me (smiling and wanting to roll me eyes): No, I’m from Delhi. I was born in Delhi.

The grand-dad thought he had misheard me: “Aah you were born in London you say?”

Me: “Umm no, Delhi” . Grand-dad for some reason is not convinced but decides to accept this fact. Then says: “ So you will fly via Mumbai?”.

Me: “No there is a direct flight to Delhi”.
I decide to go into my Indian 'interrogation' mode : “So are you going to Mumbai?”

The grand-dad: “We are going to Ahmedabad via Mumbai."

After a few minutes he turns to his daughters: “Most of the people in this queue are going to Delhi. Mostly Punjabis.”  

At this point a (so-far) patient British lady right at the front, with some encouragement from the Indians behind her, decides to break the queue and walks briskly to the regular ‘economy’ counter as one becomes vacant. The others nod their heads in approval: “There are seven regular counters there and we are stuck with just one!". Then the lady at the only operational counter starts putting her coat on. The guys at the front of the queue beseech her : "Please don’t leave!” They finally let us go to some other counters. The guys behind me (the grand-dad and family) think it’s still too slow and head out to join the end of the economy queue.

When I finally reach the check-in desk the dude looks at me and says : “Going to Mumbai?”. I smile widely and say – “Nope, going to Delhi”. He looks genuinely surprised. I ponder whether my  combination of red lipstick, blue scarf and emerald green satchel make me look too glam for Delhi. (Or  clearly I don't look Punjabi enough!) Anyhow I smile and chide the guy for not speeding us through on web-check in. He apologises and says it’s the busiest day this year. 

At security I bump into the grand-dad again. He goes: “Still at security, I thought you would be through a long time ago”. I smile back – “Our queue was slower”. I dash for the boarding area as I know I’ve been cutting it short today. There is a LONG queue of people waiting to board. I hear the last bits of an announcement ‘Seats 31 to 63….” .That’s me I think and get in the queue. A few minutes later the queue isn’t going anywhere and then this announcement “The gate for Mumbai is closing, this is the last call for…..”.

I look around me at the throng of would-be flight mates and realise that the announcements are all from the adjoining lounge where the Mumbai flight is just closing. I want to leave this ‘pre-queue’ for Delhi but there are no empty seats. At this point, my friend from Boston decides to call and test Face Time. I have a bizarre but fun conversation while standing in the queue and pointing my camera around the lounge.

Then they announce that people need to queue at the other side and in one line. A mad rush ensues which results in five separate queues that appear to have no beginning and no end. I walk at a moderate pace in my most composed manner, circle all the queues and fall behind an old British couple who look most bewildered by the activity around them. I almost want to hug them and say – “It’s OK. It will all make sense when you are back from India and have had a few months to get over the assault to your senses that is bound to occur as soon as you land there.” Instead I just smile politely.

We all get in the plane eventually. The flight is delayed due to late arrival because of fog in Delhi. What, in February?? That’s unheard of. The climate is definitely going weird. In the flight, the grand-dad is finally proved right. Seated in front of me are four Punjabi blokes. They decide to make loud conversation amongst themselves across the aisle and demand whiskey whenever a trolley goes past.

The non-Indian couple next to me search for ear plugs and settle for their free headphones instead. I do a mental prayer – may they have the courage to face all that awaits them in the land of distorted reality that is India  :D