Invasion

I am writing this from atop the World. Floating at 39000 feet above to be precise, provided the display is correct. I am flying to India from London for a month long vacation. This has been a very long day for me. Woke up at four in the morning and still up and flying. The time now is seven in the evening, of course GMT+1. I have never understood this mathematics with time zones. Nor am I interested.

I have witnessed the possible side-effects of invasion today. My British airways flight was from Terminal 5 of Heathrow airport, a newly built, well designed complex. As soon as I entered, there were Indians, everywhere. Not only the travelers. From desk to online check-in to security to gate, Indians, Indians and mostly Indians. I felt that I am already in India. I do know that there are specific areas in London, occupied mainly by Indians and its neighbors. But this is the first time in an airport, I see the dominance. I thought this is how invasion revitalizes itself with time in the other direction. It could be ‘the’ moment for proud Indians to take pride in their men who prove to be capable of ruling and disprove Churchill.

The moment lasts until you board the flight. Sorry, until you ‘try’ to board the flight. Our countrymen do not believe in reservations, at least in the ticketing though. Everyone tries to board the flight at once. I am sure of Usain Bolt losing if he wishes to try.

There was a typical south Indian family with more than a row of head counts aboard the flight. The key member of the family, who kept all the boarding passes apparently, was standing at the rear end of queue while others were almost at the counter asking the key member to jump the queue. Eventually he did. I imagined the railway stations of India. I realized that they feel at home. They had hand-baggage worth checking-in two. It took nearly fifteen minutes for them to settle down. We were all standing behind them waiting our turns. One of them even jumped from his window seat to the aisle ensuring that he doesn’t disturb the passenger at the center. It was funny to see because the passenger at the center was his wife. Very polite. The wife was indeed a step above him. She didn't consider sparing any of the cabin-crew. She always had something to ask for. At least biscuits. It seems, to her, it is a kind of ‘cash-back’.

My vacation has started from Terminal 5. How did I miss out all these fun for an year? Anyway, I don’t have to bother for one month from now.