Yesterday was a morning evening flight to and from Chennai. I
hate these morning evening flights. You wake up at obscene hours and then you
return at one such hour as well.
But it’s nice to crib about flights now. I remember when I first
started my career; flights were a dam big thing. I would look up to my bosses
and wonder if I would ever be in a situation to fly to every part of India. Would
I ever be that important? I remember my first official flight. It was to
Aurangabad. We had appointed one distributor there and I went to set it up and
other such formalities. I had asked my boss for some advice. Flights were a big
thing when we were growing up. All holidays were always by train or bus. Largely
by train. The second class sleeper train travel. And we loved it. But I was
also secretly proud that I had taken flights in my life. Since we lived in Dubai,
we would come to India every year for a vacation, I flew in around 18 flights. I
remember counting the number later when I grew up. I was a privileged person. No
one took flights and especially not international flights. Airports were big things
and people would come to receive you and drop you off the airports. So I grew
up thinking – wow – flights.
Then came my first one to Aurangabad. It was an amazing
feeling when the aircraft lifted off the ground after accelerating on the run
way. It was amazing surge of power. The next flights were going and coming from
Goa where I had to go to launch a branch. We reached late at the check in counter
and we were given the last seats which don’t recline. But hell – it was flight wasn’t
it.
And then I joined momentum consulting in which I filled in a
frequent flier form and became a silver card holder in just 9 months. BAM! Flights
were a routine in my life then. Still I think I was still living the dream of
being on flights everywhere, calling from a thousand kms away to reach in under
two hours. I think I used to have this ritual earlier where I would call
Jasmine before the plane took off and then I would call once I landed. I don’t think
that rite lasted too long.
Then in the middle when the economy was doing well and we
made some obscene amount of money we would fly off in all directions. I had a
few long international flying hours as well. If I thought flying once to Kolkata
for a two hour meeting was too much (to and fro same day), then I was once
flying to London for a four hour long meeting (that too business class). In fact
I was flying so much that once I clearly remember feeling very tired in the car
and I folded my hands. The very act of sitting and folding hands felt sore. I felt
that could not sit any more with folded hands. That’s when I realized I had
outgrown my flying dreams and ambitions.
So yesterday was another tiring day. I felt so tired at the end
of it. You wake up early, shower and catch a light breakfast (that’s the best
thing I learnt for me), catch a bad, then wait for eternity at the airport then
a two hour ride and then a one hour taxi and then full day meetings and the
then shit in reverse. Can any day devoid of any physical activity can be so
tiring. I would have never thought so. Starting at 4 am and hitting the sack at
11.30 pm and catching sleep on the flights – no wonder I had no energy left to
take Jispa running today. No chance in hell. All good intentions died with the
5.00 am morning alarm. Screw you too. Jasmine was like – don’t set alarm and then
decide – decide at the start itself. Yah… I know but I had great intentions
when I hit the bad. They evaporated at the sound of the alarm. What to do?
