Fear of Flying

No, this is not a review of Erica Jong's book Fear of Flying which I used to surreptitiously read under the cover of thick blankets . I shall leave it up to interested readers  to find out what her version was about. What I can tell you though is that it didn't have much to do with aviation. 

I have always had  more than a passing interest in the field of aviation ever since I was a young kid just like a million other kids did so it doesn't mean I'm a special snowflake but lets just say that my interest in planes was more than just pointing at helicopters and Vayudoot planes flying above Aizawl and shouting to the pilot to "get me something!" (He never did, that scumbag pilot!) . I can identify many planes just by their shape and cockpit window type or whether their nose is pointy or curved.

My father who is from Bombay used to occasionally send me postcards of Air-India planes when he was away on higher studies and these postcards were my first introduction into the wonderful world of flying. My favourite sections of travel book for kids used to be the ones on planes and I used to painstakingly trace out each plane in my drawing book and invent weird sounding airline names for the planes that I had conjured up on paper. Maybe I am a special snowflake after all! 

I recall my first plane journey was from Silchar to Calcutta in the late 80s but all I remember is that there was this huge cow right outside the airport building door with a huge pile of cow dung next to it. I haven't been to Silchar airport since then but something tells me that things might not be that different. Apologies to my readership base from Silchar.

The best plane ride I've ever had was a few months ago when I flew in from Guwahati to Aizawl on an ATR72 Jet Airways flight, although there were a few nervy moments when I was certain that the pilot was gonna slam us straight into the nice little green mountain just beyond Lengpui Airport at Aizawl. Didn't happen and when I stepped back on Mizoram soil after a gap of 2 years I almost kissed the tarmac like one of the Popes used to do whenever he landed in Rome but I didn't ; anyway there was a lot of kissing later which I shall thoroughly cover in a new post.

I don't really have a fear of flying, I in fact quite enjoy the whole procedure of flying which I shall now here suddenly present in bullet format:

• ogling stewardesses
• getting in on the plane
• ogling stewardesses while they do their "in case of any emergency" skit
• holding on the the seat tightly when the plane takes off and saying a prayer
• look at clouds
• pee
• look at clouds
• glance at watch (Holy shit I can't believe its been only 12 minutes although it feels like we took off ages ago)
• get off plane with only hand baggage and sneer at passengers who have to wait at the carousel

To conclude here's a nice picture of an Air India Boeing 777 plane which has been given the name "Mizoram" . (source:flickr) These planes only fly the international routes so fat chance of getting to ride this one in person.

Wherever We May Roam

Heavy metal band Metallica's hit song "Wherever I May Roam... where I lay my head is home.." might be quite an apt song to describe the change of residences I and my parents have undergone through the years. Of course one can only imagine how incongruous it would be to see my father belting out "Wherever I may roam.." from the pulpit.

As most of you might know my dad (and mom) are employed by the Mizoram Synod Presbyterian Church - the largest Christian denomination in Mizoram. This entailed that we shifted our places of residence quite frequently due to my father being sent hither and thither for higher studies and his various postings under the Synod. Since the time I was born we have moved house at least SIXTEEN times. That's sixteen times in approximately 30 years! Most of you would not move house even once in your whole lifetime.

The obvious advantages of moving house often is that I'm not stuck with the same silly view from my bedroom for my whole life. I mean having to wake up every morning and having to see that stupid silly Reiek mountain for the rest of my life could be so very boring! Jokes apart it was a good way to make new friends and see new places at the expense of people contributing 1/10th of their income to the church. (Keep that 1/10th coming in folks!). It also enabled us to receive decent education outside Mizoram, something which many middle class families could not afford in those days. In the early nineties the only kids from Mizoram who could afford to study in Bangalore were those whose dads were doctors or engineers or related to a politician! We also got to live in relatively nice houses provided to my Dad by the Synod.

The other side of the coin is that I had to keep making new friends and I kept losing track of the friends I'd made. Sometimes I'm slightly envious of my friends who talk about their childhood friends with whom they grew up next door to each other their whole life. And when one keeps moving we don't have long lasting memories of the places we've lived in. And last but not the least the most annoying thing is the packing/unpacking/repacking of stuff that we need to shift from one place to another. I'm quite an expert now in packing 12 piece dinner sets so that even if dropped from 10 feet high they wouldn't break.

Anyway early this December my father was sent packing (pun intended) from his post as the principal of the Aizawl Theological College to Nagpur to take charge of his new post as the General Secretary of the NCCI (A Christian Organization). So poor old me and my creaking bones had to make the trip home from Bangalore to Aizawl to help out and help out I did! For proof check pic below -

We sent some of our stuff via plane from Aizawl to Calcutta via air and I had to go to Lengpui Airport and coax and cajole the Air India cargo staff in allowing us to send all our suspicious looking parcels via the Air India flight to Calcutta. Exciting stuff! My brother took charge of the consignment in Calcutta and sent it on its merry way via truck to Nagpur. We're thinking of starting a new business as movers and packers. The less said of the the journey from Aizawl to Nagpur the better it will be. Tempers get frayed when your total luggage weight exceeds the allowed luggage limit on the plane by 200 kgs!! Luckily we met (a) few friends at Lengpui Airport who helped us out in weighing our luggage with theirs. Hey DDB Thanks!

As I'd mentioned before the quarters provided to us are usually quite lovely and the place in Nagpur was no different so the soothing environment of the General Secretary's quarters helped in easing our minds so much so that my brother promptly decided to quit his job in Calcutta and move to Nagpur. It even has a bloody lotus pond complete with fishes in the frontyard. Groovy!

Pic below of House and Pond with my niece and her new found friends (Remember what I said about making new friends!)

The day we moved into the new place my dad told us with a smile on his face that we probably shouldn't bother unpacking since the NCCI office would be shifted from Nagpur to Delhi in 2013...

Unrelated Note: I changed over to the new blogger profile and it has totally messed up the fonts . Google, I am disappoint! (Yes Google owns blogger in case anyone didn't know)
Unrelated Note 2: Figured it out. The editor needed to be upgraded. I love you Google!.