For perhaps two or three minutes after I returned from the restroom my cousin preserved an unbroken silence. All this while I was non-chantingly whistling away to glory as if I was walking to receive an Olympic gold medal, he was plunged again in thoughts of how clever he had grabbed the vantage seat. This act is possibly achieved only by one trained in the Hard CBSE schools in Madras. In fact I was so relieved after my short but very much needed visit that I felt like back floating on the waves of Hawaii with a glass of orange juice and a group of Belly Dancers. (Of course I lied about the Belly Dancers)
My cousin, who now was wide awake like a night owl looking for its prey, started to do his part in the drama in trying to capture the attention of the girl (I am not making this up, but she was Cute. She had a pretty nose too). I was in no mood to play some part in this drama and was satisfied in being just an innocent guy watching every move of his. My cousin took some time to bring his art of palavering to its present state. In the past he was a crude babbler, but tonight he was prepared to match his wits against any Romeo under the Milky Way (except the Martian named M45 in J34 Black Hole). He started to hum some popular (acclaimed by many) Hindi songs, a thing that he has never done in the past, just because the female next to him was a Bengali and it was the only common ground between them. Of course you can't expect to start a conversation about Metaphysics and Astronomy with a cute female. However he was able to carry out peacefully some conversation about Hindi movies. They are the best and easy in the town now because all the movies today feature 4-5 songs featuring the Heroin doing some steps that need the highest ABDOMINAL DEXTERITY and also with the LOWEST costume possible on Earth (Also on Mars. Source: NASA Pathfinder) While all this was going on, it took the same Hostess with whom now I can claim acquaintance to separate them by bringing us the first can of Coke in our life. (Previously seen only in TV commercials)
My cousin and I were really thrilled at the service. I had already assured myself of the drink by passing; to be precise stretching, my hands like a Madras policeman would have done on seeing a motorcycle rider without a helmet. In order to give you a clear picture, we both were like guys waiting for Sakarai Pongal at ParthaSarathi Koil. Like any animal's instinct, whenever it comes to choosing between females and food, my brain takes the correct decision and sticks to the FOOD.
This situation was a bit different from the others that I had encountered; I thought that may be food in one hand and the female on the other would make me in a Win-Win situation. Unfortunately, it didn't workout like this for me because the female's (Who can't be taken for granted) eyes were drooping shut. Hence I also decided against my will and did what most males would have done; I went to sleep without the food of course.
For the next one and a half hour there was nothing worth mentioning except that all around me were sleeping while I was wide awake waiting for a chance to give my mouth some work. With conditions as described any quick thinker than I would have restrained from hearing the announcement and try to fade away into the night with minimum delay. Distressingly, I was thrown aback by the announcer with an accent that looked like a machine gun (Don't get confused with Bofors which never fires) firing 24 rounds/Min. All this firing, I mean talking, was to convey that we had safely (Not for the First Time) landed in Bombay. From the pilot's point of view, this was rather great but for somebody who was in the midst of his dreamland it wasn't much of a use. I was mad at them for waking me up just when I started to drowse. It is possible that sometimes a spirit like this lingers on throughout the journey but at this juncture all I could think of was that the Hostesses were to change and who would be for this leg of the journey. I feel that this is a rather good question to ponder when your brain needs something to do when you have time at your disposal.
The next part of my flight was not so adventurous because the Hostess this time was a Marati and was looking a shade better than the one before. All said and done, an airhostess in your bay is worth two in the bath tub – assuming you are no way near the tub.
My cousin, who now was wide awake like a night owl looking for its prey, started to do his part in the drama in trying to capture the attention of the girl (I am not making this up, but she was Cute. She had a pretty nose too). I was in no mood to play some part in this drama and was satisfied in being just an innocent guy watching every move of his. My cousin took some time to bring his art of palavering to its present state. In the past he was a crude babbler, but tonight he was prepared to match his wits against any Romeo under the Milky Way (except the Martian named M45 in J34 Black Hole). He started to hum some popular (acclaimed by many) Hindi songs, a thing that he has never done in the past, just because the female next to him was a Bengali and it was the only common ground between them. Of course you can't expect to start a conversation about Metaphysics and Astronomy with a cute female. However he was able to carry out peacefully some conversation about Hindi movies. They are the best and easy in the town now because all the movies today feature 4-5 songs featuring the Heroin doing some steps that need the highest ABDOMINAL DEXTERITY and also with the LOWEST costume possible on Earth (Also on Mars. Source: NASA Pathfinder) While all this was going on, it took the same Hostess with whom now I can claim acquaintance to separate them by bringing us the first can of Coke in our life. (Previously seen only in TV commercials)
My cousin and I were really thrilled at the service. I had already assured myself of the drink by passing; to be precise stretching, my hands like a Madras policeman would have done on seeing a motorcycle rider without a helmet. In order to give you a clear picture, we both were like guys waiting for Sakarai Pongal at ParthaSarathi Koil. Like any animal's instinct, whenever it comes to choosing between females and food, my brain takes the correct decision and sticks to the FOOD.
This situation was a bit different from the others that I had encountered; I thought that may be food in one hand and the female on the other would make me in a Win-Win situation. Unfortunately, it didn't workout like this for me because the female's (Who can't be taken for granted) eyes were drooping shut. Hence I also decided against my will and did what most males would have done; I went to sleep without the food of course.
For the next one and a half hour there was nothing worth mentioning except that all around me were sleeping while I was wide awake waiting for a chance to give my mouth some work. With conditions as described any quick thinker than I would have restrained from hearing the announcement and try to fade away into the night with minimum delay. Distressingly, I was thrown aback by the announcer with an accent that looked like a machine gun (Don't get confused with Bofors which never fires) firing 24 rounds/Min. All this firing, I mean talking, was to convey that we had safely (Not for the First Time) landed in Bombay. From the pilot's point of view, this was rather great but for somebody who was in the midst of his dreamland it wasn't much of a use. I was mad at them for waking me up just when I started to drowse. It is possible that sometimes a spirit like this lingers on throughout the journey but at this juncture all I could think of was that the Hostesses were to change and who would be for this leg of the journey. I feel that this is a rather good question to ponder when your brain needs something to do when you have time at your disposal.
The next part of my flight was not so adventurous because the Hostess this time was a Marati and was looking a shade better than the one before. All said and done, an airhostess in your bay is worth two in the bath tub – assuming you are no way near the tub.
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